A/N: For everybody who has been following my other stories, I'd like to thank you all very much for leaving such wonderful reviews! I truly appreciate each and every one of them, and I apologize for not having been able to reply back the last few times... I swear ff . net will be the death of me one day with their endless bugs and malfunctions...

Warnings for this story: SLASH + MATURE RATING, especially in the second chapter!

Disclaimer: I'm just playing a bit with my favorite characters...

Let Me Give You A Hand

There was the sound of something hitting the floor, followed by a small moan that pulled Hotch from his sleep. He was on alert immediately, automatically reaching into the nightstand next to his side of the bed where he had put his gun. Then he realized that the other side of the bed was empty and there was a light shining from the half-closed bathroom door of the hotel room that he shared with Rossi on this current case. He relaxed a little, but not enough to fall back asleep. Putting his gun back into the drawer, he propped his head into the cushions, his mind active as always.

This case was tearing on everybody's nerves, and he hoped that they'd finally reach a break with their profile the next day, preferably before one of them freaked out.

Especially Dave had been on the edge for the past two days, the case hitting entirely too close to home for him with an Unsub killing Marines shortly after they'd returned home from deployments overseas. Dave might not talk a lot about his time with the Marines, but Hotch knew what 'Semper Fi' meant to any Marine, former or not.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to his side to snuggle back into his sheets in a new attempt to get some more rest, when he heard Rossi moan again.

What was he doing? Wait, really? Was he...?

Hotch held his breath and listened closely. Another barely suppressed sigh made it out of the bathroom and to his ears. It left no doubt as to what Dave was doing in there. Grinning to himself, he couldn't help but feel his excitement heighten as he imagined his closest friend pleasuring himself behind the almost closed door. At the same time, he felt a bit guilty for eavesdropping so shamelessly. Debating with himself what to do, he barely dared to move, afraid that he could alert Dave's attention. His initial reaction was to keep pretending that he was sleeping and then act as if nothing had happened the next morning. But that was getting harder and harder – pun intended – the longer he listened to his friend.

Of course, this was not the first time he had been aroused while sharing a room with David Rossi. He couldn't actually remember when he had started to feel attracted to his best friend, but it had been going on for quite a while even before Rossi's return to the FBI. It was after Dave had come back that Hotch knew he didn't want to work things out with Haley anymore, despite the few halfhearted attempts he'd made anyway. Not that Dave was the reason for his failed marriage, anything but that, but ever since he'd met the older man, Hotch had felt deep down that something was missing between him and his wife.

His feelings for the older man had only grown deeper and deeper with every day that they worked together, with every time Rossi proved his friendship to him, and to his son Jack. He was always there, never once letting him suffer through anything on his own. That was something he'd never really experienced in his life before, and with all good things, it was also something he got used to fairly quickly. At some point, he knew he'd have to talk to Dave. Probably once it was getting too hard for him to keep all those feelings bottled up inside him.

He already couldn't even count the nights anymore that he was lying awake, either at home or in some non-descript hotel room bed when out on a case, touching himself and wishing that it would be Dave's hand stroking him to release instead of his own.

"Oh Aaron." The muffled groan from the next room had his thoughts freeze instantly. Did he just hear his own name? Or was it just his overactive imagination playing tricks on him? He almost chalked it up to wishful thinking, when he heard the all-too familiar timbre of Rossi's deep voice again.

"Fuck, Aaron-"

No, he clearly wasn't hallucinating that.

Slowly getting up from the bed, Hotch quietly walked over to the bathroom door, careful not to make any sudden noise that would startle Dave before he himself had made up his mind what he was going to do next.

This was his chance, now, wasn't it? He finally had the proof he'd longed to get for so long. Dave was just as attracted to him as he was to Dave. Maybe he should take this as a sign and do something about it.

Peeking inside, he saw Dave, his back turned to him, fully naked except for his boxer-shorts that were hanging around his ankles. Hotch felt his mouth watering at the sight of the older man's backside, and could barely stop himself from bursting in there and getting his hands on Dave's firm ass. Even from behind, the man oozed sexiness from every pore of his delectable body. Hotch could only see the movement of Dave's arm, but judging from the frantic rhythm, he was stroking himself roughly.

His hand sneaked into his own boxers, mimicking the movements on his own cock while enjoying the show in front of him. He knew they could both continue this until they came, and even then, Hotch was sure, it would probably be the best orgasm he'd ever had. But another exquisite moan from Dave made him reach a quick decision. Coming alone, by his own hand, wasn't an option anymore. Quickly stepping inside the bathroom before he could have any second thoughts, Hotch asked quietly: "Can I lend you a hand?"