Yes Sir [Hotch X Reader]

Chapter 38

Warnings: Major fluff, sexual talk and general suggestiveness in the beginning, talk of choking and child abuse in the last half, religious trauma, serious trauma talk, me writing on desktop for the first time

You both rinse the cum off of your bodies, as much as possible, before standing up and draining the water from the tub. He keeps an arm wrapped firmly around your waist as you watch the water swirl down the drain together.  It serves two purposes; to keep you upright on shaky legs and to satisfy his need to keep you close. 

You end up rinsing yourself off with the showerhead, just to get the dirty water off, but you make the executive decision to run a new bath. It won't be as clean, but you're both going to shower in the morning again anyway. It's a habit at this point. You get a clean cup of water from the sink for his cut and place it on the side of the tub before you both climb in, resuming the position from earlier.

He pulls your back to his chest and lathers his hands with soap before running them over every part of your body. He's methodical and purposeful with it, but you have no doubt he's enjoying caressing and canvassing each part of your body. The dead giveaway is the large erection he begins sporting, which presses into your back again. You tease him lightly about his stamina, to which he chuckles and assures you not to worry about it because he's sure it will go away on its own. 

"How could I not be hard with my beautiful girlfriend laying on me, all naked and dripping?" he asks, punctuating his question with a kiss on your shoulder. You chuckle as he wraps his arms around your torso and continues kissing, but you're quick to remind him that his issue will go away the second you start disinfecting his cut, which makes him exhale loudly in complaint. 

With that reminder, you turn around to face him and wrap your legs around his waist again. You're quick to wash him, but you do take adequate time to squeeze his firm biceps, wipe his broad chest and feel his abs. He's not shredded like Morgan, or skinny like Reid, but instead has an athletic build with some softer edges indicative of having a kid. He's still strong and well-built, and you find yourself wondering how a man like that could ever have insecurities about anything. 

Aaron notices your staring, how your eyes linger over his features, and teases that you should stop "drooling" over him. You roll your eyes at him but smile before continuing your work. 

Finally, the time comes for you to clean his wire burn. You know he's dreading it, as much as he would never admit it. You get your equipment ready while he mentally prepares himself for the inevitable sting. You repeat the doctor's orders to yourself, preparing approved soap and the clean water cup with a dry washcloth. 

"It'll be okay," you remind him, touching his cheek tenderly and pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. "I'll be quick about it, it won't be that bad."

"I know," he murmurs "I'm not a kid, sweetheart, I can take a little pain." The scars that litter his abdomen are proof of that. You nod in a silent understanding, but you also knew that anticipation could be scary, no matter how severe the pain turned out to be. You bring your hand off his cheek but squeeze his hand, which he holds just as tightly. 

You use the clean water to rinse the cut and the soap to clean. You can tell the soap stings when it touches his tender flesh, but it's important to keep the wound sterile. He grimaces and squeezes his eyes at certain parts, mostly out of anxiety that he tries not to show, but he doesn't make a sound or complain. Instead, he squeezes your hand a little tighter while you attempt to cover the large surface area of where the wire tore his skin.

When you're done, you dry it tenderly and press a kiss to his lips as a reward. He returns it gently, clearly happy that the whole ordeal is over.

You both get out of the tub and dry each other off before getting dressed. You slip on a pair of his boxers and a GWU T-shirt that shrunk in the wash after years of wear.