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Entry tags:
[2-Aug-2021][Criminal Minds] Good Use
Title: Good Use
Day/Prompt: 2-Aug-2021
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Character/Pairing: Hotch/Morgan
Rating/Warning(s): Explicit, just in case
"You were too rough with this, Aaron." Morgan dangles the ripped tie in the air, grinning like it's a victory prize. His wrists remain raw and pleasantly sore, but the tingling's going away quickly. He can still spot the pink line on his palm from pulling it up and down to his every desire. "Shit, or maybe I was."
Hotch focuses on finishing the line of buttons, firming the shirt with a pat and the slide of his palm before looking at the casualty of their time.
"Damn it." He murmurs, but Morgan grins harder as if it's no big deal; for Morgan, it isn't. He doesn't wear his three-piece suits to work, doesn't strut in that fine fabric, and it's a damn shame— he looked rather good in the constant formal attire. Memories of Morgan done up fine, expensive suits nearly tempts him into abusing his authority and instating a mandatory formal dress code.
Meanwhile, Hotch wears the mandatory lawyer look he hasn't sacked from years ago: a dark black suit with a red, blue, or sometimes multi-colored tie and authentic leather shoes. Of course, he doesn't simply 'forget' his tie.
When the bullpen sees, they'll know.
Hotch curses under breath. That's the disadvantage of working with profilers— some of the world's greatest minds.
"Do you have one in your go bag?" Morgan asks, sifting through the drawers to find the bag.
"Yes," Hotch nods, sighs, "It's blue. The one I wore today is—"
"Red. Stripes." He got a glimpse of it before the tie went to better use, and it's still suspended from his fingers, waiting for its owner to reclaim it in its ruined glory.
Hotch plucks from his fingers, fastening a perfect Pratt while staring at Morgan.
Grinning and eyebrows raised, Hotch leans over.
"Well, at least it went to good use." He chuckles.
Day/Prompt: 2-Aug-2021
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Character/Pairing: Hotch/Morgan
Rating/Warning(s): Explicit, just in case
"You were too rough with this, Aaron." Morgan dangles the ripped tie in the air, grinning like it's a victory prize. His wrists remain raw and pleasantly sore, but the tingling's going away quickly. He can still spot the pink line on his palm from pulling it up and down to his every desire. "Shit, or maybe I was."
Hotch focuses on finishing the line of buttons, firming the shirt with a pat and the slide of his palm before looking at the casualty of their time.
"Damn it." He murmurs, but Morgan grins harder as if it's no big deal; for Morgan, it isn't. He doesn't wear his three-piece suits to work, doesn't strut in that fine fabric, and it's a damn shame— he looked rather good in the constant formal attire. Memories of Morgan done up fine, expensive suits nearly tempts him into abusing his authority and instating a mandatory formal dress code.
Meanwhile, Hotch wears the mandatory lawyer look he hasn't sacked from years ago: a dark black suit with a red, blue, or sometimes multi-colored tie and authentic leather shoes. Of course, he doesn't simply 'forget' his tie.
When the bullpen sees, they'll know.
Hotch curses under breath. That's the disadvantage of working with profilers— some of the world's greatest minds.
"Do you have one in your go bag?" Morgan asks, sifting through the drawers to find the bag.
"Yes," Hotch nods, sighs, "It's blue. The one I wore today is—"
"Red. Stripes." He got a glimpse of it before the tie went to better use, and it's still suspended from his fingers, waiting for its owner to reclaim it in its ruined glory.
Hotch plucks from his fingers, fastening a perfect Pratt while staring at Morgan.
Grinning and eyebrows raised, Hotch leans over.
"Well, at least it went to good use." He chuckles.