Pelaam© February 2009.
I had a request to write a story for these characters from Criminal Minds. It is not a programme that I have watched and the request was made anonymously, but I hope I have caught an essence of what was wanted and of the characters.
Chapter 01: Love Comforteth
"Somewhere there's someone who dreams of your smile." Unknown.
Spencer stared at his desk. In essence nothing had been drastically changed and yet the small difference that he could see had such potential it was almost like a tsunami flowing towards him. Taking a deep breath he walked towards the desk and perhaps his destiny. His slender fingers caressed the small crystal vase in which there was a single flower. A perfect yellow tulip stood proud and Spencer's fingers barely touched its petals as he devoured it with his eyes.
"Tulipa," he whispered. "In the language of flowers a yellow tulip means 'There's beauty in your smile.'"
Unconsciously the edges of young man's mouth turned upwards. He glanced around the room, but no one seemed to be paying any attention. He sat down, still smiling. He looked again at those co-workers in the room. It was possible, but extremely unlikely, that someone outside his team had left the flower. He gave careful consideration to the small group of people who were his friends and surrogate family.
He was quite certain that it had not come from Emily, JJ or Penelope. The women he worked with were more than comfortable, and confident, enough to simply approach him. This seemed both a successful way to intrigue him, engage his imagination. It would also safely gauge his reaction should his ...secret admirer...prove to be male. He assumed his benefactor would reveal something of themselves through the gift. He gave a shiver. He had never been wooed, courted or romanced. His life had been devoid of affection and love. It was difficult to let himself go, let himself trust enough.
Due to his life in academia he had never had a girlfriend or boyfriend. Spencer did not care about the packaging, although some of the packages around him were of exceptional quality and beauty, but what was beneath the surface was of great importance. The closest he had ever got in regards a sexual encounter was a curious hand, from an equally unwanted outsider, as they had kissed safely hidden from prying eyes. He had never been touched skin-on-skin or been seen naked in the eyes of a lover. He wondered if his lack of sexual experience would cause a problem. Then he looked at the flower and smiled again, his rapidly rising anxiety curtailed by the simple pleasure of the flower itself and the implied pleasure of the sender. He took a fortifying breath. If there were any he could trust his heart to, it was the people with whom he trusted his life.
"Love means to commit oneself without guarantee, to give oneself completely in the hope that our love will produce love in the loved person. Love is an act of faith, and whoever is of little faith is also of little love." Erich Fromm
****
"Love distils desire upon the eyes, love brings bewitching grace into the heart." Euripides
There had been no gift the following day, nor had there been any obvious change in any of the team, but Spencer had found himself smiling more often, remembering what the tulip had meant. He had thought about the other men of the team, wondering whether it really was one of them that sought to turn friendship into something deeper.
It was easy to associate someone with a name like Rossi as a romantic. However, Spencer did not think the flower was quite David's style. It was possible that Hotch would want to show an amorous disposition, but Spencer thought that their leader would be more inclined to have sent flowers to his home. That brought him to Derek. They were often compared as the brawn and brains of the team, as if they were opposites. However, opposites attracted and, more importantly, opposites could also be two sides of one coin.
He gasped with delight as he entered the office and saw the latest offering.
"Theaceae and dianthus caryophyllus," he murmured, taking in the sight of the white camellia and red carnation. "'You're adorable', 'My heart aches for you'". He whispered the flowers' meanings as he lifted them. This time they had been tied with a strand of red silk and a small card caught his eye. "'Thou art to me a delicious torment', Ralph Waldo Emerson." He automatically murmured the source of the quote, printed in perfect copperplate, as he removed the card slipping it into his pocket.
He added the flowers to the tulip in the vase and smiled at the growing bouquet. His mind, as well as his heart, was both engaged and intrigued. His unknown admirer was going to a lot of trouble to declare their feelings in a way that was safe and non-threatening. Spencer sighed as his fingers tenderly caressed the delicate petals. He hoped he would soon receive a more tangible hint of the identity of his wooer. The thought sent a fluttering of apprehension as well as anticipation through his slender frame and he abstractly carded his fingers through his hair. He was not going to let fear destroy what could be the best thing ever to happen to him.
"There is only one happiness in life, to love and be loved." George Sand.
****
"If I know what love is, it is because of you." Herman Hesse
Spencer lay naked on his bed and eyed the unopened tube of lubricant. He had blushed scarlet when purchasing it, especially when an inner voice, that would not be denied, demanded he bought a flavoured one. Rose. The thought made him smile despite the embarrassment that still coursed through his veins.
He had spent some time alone with Hotch during the day as the team worked on their latest case. He pushed the bad thoughts away, thinking instead of the solid male. He was not sure he had truly flirted, although he had tried to make more eye contact than usual and smiled more. Hotch had seemed appreciative of his behaviour, but had still remained the same Hotch. Spencer was now 99% certain their leader could be eliminated. That left David and Derek.
He put the tube away, not wanting to even experiment. He was a virgin and would remain so. It was perhaps the only gift he could offer to a lover. He closed his eyes and let a hand drift over his lithe form. There were hidden muscles beneath the surface, despite his slim build. There had to be. He could be called upon to perform demanding physical activity just the same as any of the others. He let his thumb rub back and forth over one cinnamon nub and then the other. His other hand slid to meander languidly through his modest nest of fur at the base of his erect penis.
He circled the hard flesh loosely, pumping gently, not wanting to come too quickly. The faces of David and Derek flitted through his mind. He began to imagine his hands were the hands of his admirer. He spread his long legs wider, as if inviting a phantom lover to kneel between them. He whimpered softly as he tightened his grip, one hand now cupping his sac, sliding the orbs within together and apart. The hand twisted as it reached the engorged head, encouraging more pre-come and the fluid helping the hand slide easily back down to the base. He imagined words of love spoken, kisses bestowed and the hand on his shaft began to move faster, demanding he reach his zenith.
A finger rubbed along his perineum and his breathing came in hot, moist gasps, meaningless words spilling from his lips as his head began to thrash. The finger moved back and forth, teasing, tantalising but no more. He groaned as heat suffused his body and his groin tightened with imminent release. His hips thrust upwards into the tunnel of the hand working him, the finger pressed against his hidden opening and with a cry he came. His semen streaked across his skin, decorating his stomach and chest. He slowly regained higher reasoning and his eyes flew open as he remembered the name he had called at the moment of his orgasm.
