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“They didn’t agree on much. In fact, they didn’t agree on anything. They fought all the time and challenged each other every day. But despite their differences, they had one important thing in common. They were crazy about each other.”--Nicholas Sparks, “The Notebook”
“Hotch. Your opinion matters to me.”
“My life matters to me. And I have and always will entrust you with it….
“Would you do the same for me?”
Beep Beep.
Aaron leaned back against the cool leather of the passenger seat, breathing for what felt like the first time in days. Really, breathing . Slow and steady, fresh air rifling through his hair from the open windows Derek insisted on when they got out of the city traffic and well down the highway. He attempted a sit-down shower that morning and tried to take the time to wash the blood off himself fully but… he had no idea blood could crust and curdle against his skin, hiding away so well from even the most thorough nurse’s scrubbing. He could still feel it there... he could still feel Kate there.Hotch knew he was always a bit of a brat as a patient in a hospital. He knew he likely fought off all the helping hands trying to sponge him down in a bed while he insisted on finding his clothes but… He’d never really washed the blood of someone he cared about from his skin quite like this. The spots on his scalp were the most troublesome. He wished in the moment, standing under that blistering hot spray, he could just shave his head entirely like Derek and start life clean and fresh that way. The air was warm and sultry as it filtered in through the windows of the SUV he honestly was not happy to ride home in for so very many reasons. Even seeing the black car parked outside the station was enough to make his heart pound. Flames rose against his vision, blood streaked across the asphalt, Kate’s bewildered voice rang out from all around--
“I can’t find my purse, Aaron--”
Aaron Hotchner would likely never climb into an FBI issue SUV ever again without those scenes assaulting him. He breathed. In. Out. Lean back. Look out the window. The horizon was hazy as the road narrowed to two lanes.
For some reason he wasn’t quite ready to investigate, Derek had chosen the Verrazano bridge and a very out-of-the-way coastal highway to carry them down the road on the way back home. The I-95 would have been quicker but… Aaron was admittedly happy to go a little slow right now, even if he would never admit it to the younger man currently humming along to Elton John beneath his breath with those sunglasses perched on his nose, chewing on a stick of beef jerky like it was a cigarette. His ears were ringing still, the left one so blown out and tender he could hardly hear. The pain ebbed and flowed as the ER doctor told him it would… he would likely have trouble doing much more than staying upright for weeks yet without feeling like he might vomit from the pain.Somehow, he didn’t mind the thought of his ideally temporary inequity… He was frankly too exhausted from the last few days to worry about not being in top shape 24/7. Seeing as all he had to look forward to at home was a depressingly vacant apartment and the promise of more death at work… A road trip where he just got to lean back and doze was a shockingly wonderful prospect. Hotch felt pretty content just listening to Derek try to hit all the high notes of “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” while the ocean air wafted across the four-day stubble of his cheeks. He closed his eyes and sighed, once again reveling in the fact that air was still filling his lungs.
I am alive. My Team is unharmed. We’re all going… home. All of us except Kate.
The pain he hadn’t allowed himself to feel after everything that had happened… the pain in his body and the far more insidious kind he’d never been very good at handling… it all started to close in on him the farther away from Manhattan they got. The memories burned into his brain were worse than the injuries seered across his skin and perforating his eardrum. The only thing that might keep it all bay was breathing. Just. Keep breathing.
Stay steady… there was nothing more I could do for Kate, I held her as long as I could… I trusted that kid, I trusted the ambulance, the driver--bomber… I wasn’t in my right mind, but… I know I would have trusted them anyway even if I hadn’t just been blown off my feet… I made mistakes… but everyone did, we were all sitting ducks that entire time, it was absolute mayhem, I could have lost them all, all at once…
Derek… Derek came the closest… Derek almost killed himself and I reprimanded him for his efforts…
Derek’s driving me home… Derek’s singing along to Elton John…he’s not bad, really… all those years of Church Choir… where’s he taking me?
Are we in Jersey? Maryland? It’s going to take us twice as long if he’s driving the coast…
Hotch’s head swam. His gut gurgled. Every bit of food he’d forced down at the hospital was absolutely disagreeing with him. He felt hot all over, his skin prickling, his hands restless where they sat in his lap tapping out of rhythm from the radio’s over-loud, weirdly muffled cadence--he felt like he was upside down underwater, not right--NOT RIGHT--pretend it’s fine--focus on Derek singing--
Oh god--I wish we could just stop somewhere, I just want to stop--process--wait--Oh, shit--
Suddenly Aaron felt horribly sick to his stomach. His head was so heavy from exhaustion and pain, his ear felt closed off and full out of nowhere, his entire equilibrium thrown off--a shrill scream resembling the sound of the car alarm after the blast sounding out, so completely debilitating-- He had to get out. He had to STOP. “Ah--uh--D-Derek--” Hotch gasped, cradling his head with one hand pressed to his mouth as he hunched forward in the passenger seat. Morgan stopped singing along, both hands back on the wheel as he glanced at Hotch in concern and immediately peeled off the sandy highway into the emergency lane. Aaron fumbled at the door handle and his seatbelt, gagging uncomfortably before he finally got himself free and was able to stumble off into a dune to let himself purge for the first time since stumbling away from a bombed-out SUV to stare at himself on a dozen blasted open television screens. Morgan knelt next to him, his hands on his shoulders while he shuddered through the last of his violent stomach upset brought on by stress and exhaustion and the injuries Aaron had yet to fully acknowledge. Aaron was so tired by the end of it he had to lean into Derek’s bracing hold, tossing his head back against the man’s shoulder with a gasp while he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He breathed in and out unsteadily, squeezing his eyes closed at the bright late afternoon sun glaring down at him. Morgan had yet to say anything other than, “I got you, Aaron… let it out, man… I got you….” Aaron wished he could say something but he just… he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop smelling singed flesh and blood, he couldn’t stop hearing Kate’s voice talking from a body that was already dead , her brain might have been alive but he KNEW, the second he saw her spine flayed open on the pavement, he knew… he was talking to a dead person who just hadn’t realized they were dead yet. Aaron vomited again, tears in his eyes now, the air no longer hitting his choked lungs… the panic attack didn’t relent for a long few minutes. By the end of it, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to drag himself back up to get into the car. He could breathe at least, but… walking… riding in a car… going home… he couldn’t do it. Derek apparently understood. Aaron wanted nothing more than to fall deeper into his arms and let the man hold him. He settled for listening intently to his comforting voice soothe him, his breath wafting across his ear with each gentle word he spoke. “That’s it, Aaron, you’re doin’ so well… I know this has been too much… you need a damn break… listen to my voice and breathe… breathe… in… out… that’s so good, so good, keep breathing, brother… can you smell the ocean? We’re so close, it’s just over that bluff, that’s where we’ll stop for the night, you need a damn break …” warm, strong hands rubbed his shoulders just hard enough to count, trailing down along his stiff spine, fingers pressing against every tight knot, kneading like they knew how much he needed that kind of touch… Aaron shuddered with relief when he felt Derek’s knowing grip squeeze his hips just right, his fingers sliding up beneath his suit jacket to meet his skin momentarily where his rumpled shirt had come untucked.
“Aaron…”
Breathe…
Why does he feel so good…
Derek’s voice was so close to him now. Aaron still felt ill, he still felt everything he’d been fighting off for days, everything he didn’t want to feel but… that voice was bringing him back like a cool breeze after a very long, blistering hot day. That voice was truth.
I trust him. I just hope…he trusts me…
“Aaron, I know you can’t hear well right now but just listen to me anyway… I’m going to help you get in the car… can you trust me to do that for you right now?” He heard Morgan speaking low and loud and slow… each word reached him like a telegram passing through a muffled wall of pain but he heard him . Aaron nodded shakily, moaning when the movement of his head sent spirals of pain through his brain. He gripped weakly at Morgan’s steady arm where it supported him around his waist, so strong, so ready for this... There was something tender in his touch Aaron wasn’t sure he could acknowledge just yet. Something he’d been ignoring for years every time their facades broke and it was just… them. Derek did not seem to be quite so affected by their proximity. He was too busy lifting Aaron up with a grunt while whispering encouragement and promises against the humid wind billowing in from the coast just out of sight. “Alright, let’s get you up… hold onto me, Aar, gonna get you in the backseat this time so you can lie down--that’s it, I won’t let you fall, lean on me as much as you need to, I can hold you up, you think you’re some big tough guy but, uh newsflash…” Hotch found himself glaring at his second in command with his mouth forming a frown, despite how ill he felt. Morgan just grinned in that devilish way he had, shrugging before he buckled the belt across Aaron’s lap and patted his thigh. The grin on his face faded but the hand stayed, gently squeezing him while all Aaron could feel was a sudden burst of lust coupled with confusion. “I’ll always be here to hold you up when you need to remember you’re human, Aaron…” … Hotch woke up with a start and realized the car was no longer moving. He felt confused and out of it, his head still pounding while he worked a disgusting taste from his dry mouth and looked around. The engine was running, AC going full blast while the radio played softly but one glance to his left proved Derek was nowhere to be found in the driver’s seat. The sun was low in the sky, nearly blinding him as it sparkled across the dark blue rolling waves of the Atlantic just ahead. Hotch blinked and looked around more thoroughly, trying to get his muddled mind together and figure out where the hell they were. They were in the parking lot of a somewhat seedy looking beach motel perched along the shore, a big wooden sign flashing “VACANCY” beneath the 50s era neon flashing “The Lighthouse Inn”.
What the fuck… where are we, Derek… we should have been back in D.C. by now…
Hotch turned his bleary gaze abruptly to the right when his door was opened from the outside. Derek stood there grinning at him, twirling a big silver key attached to a pink plastic card around his finger. “Well, good mornin’, sleeping beauty. Or, I guess, good evening… you might have guessed I took a detour from the beaten path, for both our sakes. I was getting tired on the road and you were snoring loud enough to wake the dead but somehow my eyes kept droopin’... time for a pitstop. This place looks like shit but I got us a deal on a special suite, come on…” Morgan was already unbuckling his seatbelt, sliding his hand over Hotch’s thigh again just right. Hotch stiffened in more ways than one, trying so hard to figure out what was happening and why he felt so light-headed. “Can you walk? I’ve got dinner ordered from a place down the road, they’re gonna deliver in half an hour, you need to eat after getting so sick, Aaron… I got you, just lean on me, our bags are already in the cabin,” Derek said gently as he helped Aaron step out of the car on shaky legs. “Where the fuck are we, Derek,” Aaron whispered, astounded at how hard it was to form simple words. He felt so weak and disconnected it was a wonder he could place one foot in front of the other as he allowed himself to be lead blindly across a sandy parking lot and down a path through the reed-ridden dunes. “Dewey Beach, Delaware. A little place I used to get away to when I first moved out to D.C., back when I was just greenthumb cadet, ready to rumble and get into trouble every weekend after training at the Academy. Hah, the first time I came here I was sorely disappointed in my original exploits. It’s a helluva quieter than Atlantic City, prettier than Ocean City and, just for you, it’s got these quaint little mid-century motels dotting up and down the beach with 10 pm noise curfews and private cabins perched in the dunes. And this one looks like its ours for the next two days.” Aaron blinked tiredly at the tiny beach shack huddled on stilts up over the dune. The faded gray-blue shingles looked as if they’d seen a good five decades of salty air eating away at them but it was sturdy enough despite the persistent ocean breeze rolling in with the waves from just a few hundred meters away. The large screened in porch called to him even while his mind registered the two days portion of Morgan’s proud little speech. “Two--two days, Derek, I have to be back in the office tomorrow, wha--I can’t--can’t take two days to sit at the beach and do noth-nothing--” he gasped pitifully while Morgan pulled him the rickety old steps to the door of the beach cottage. Morgan just huffed and shook his head, though Hotch didn’t catch it. The man was nearly dead on his feet and barely able to string a coherent sentence together, let alone argue with Derek Morgan right now. “Hotch, you’ve been put on a mandatory two-week recovery leave starting this morning. If you can’t remember that, even though I watched Strauss tell you not six hours ago, that means you might need more than that two weeks. Don’t try to argue with me, you know you can’t win right now, you’re basically drunk from that ear injury and you know I will take advantage of that if you try to lawyer up on me,” Morgan said as he got the old salt-swollen door open and pushed Hotch inside. Hotch frowned and stumbled accordingly, finally accepting that he might be a bit more affected by his injuries than he wanted to believe earlier. What Derek was saying should have been proof enough to that point but he still felt stubbornly opposed to submitting to any kind of weakness that might take him out of action, even if he himself would have insisted on it if it were anyone else on his team. He focused on looking around instead of getting angry at his forced ineptitude in the moment. It was never his strong suit to take injuries gracefully. He hated it on principle, the feeling that he might need to convalesce in any sense… the order that he do so… Especially when other people were there to try and take care of him. Other people he cared about, other people taking time from their lives to look after his wellbeing… people he cared about, people whose lives wouldn’t just stop when his needed to slow down… Certain people… Derek… why does it have to be Derek here with me… I’ve ignored it for this long but he’s making it so difficult now… why is doing this for me, what is he playing at… why does he care. Aaron leaned against Derek’s steady body gratefully when the room spun for a moment before he could get his bearings and adjust to the lower lighting of the dim, cool space.
Oh wow… this place hasn’t seen an update since 1967.
I love it.
The little cabin was octagonal, barely 600 square feet, if that. The kitchen wrapped along the wall, every ancient appliance a shade of mustard yellow. Aaron let Derek lead him around to the right through a tiny little sitting room arranged around a central fireplace, the mid-century modern lounge chairs calling to him just as much as the book shelf full of beach reads and boardgames did. He could just glimpse that porch through a pair of french doors, a daybed made with fresh white sheets waiting for him to take a very long nap on in the near future. He wasn’t sure where Morgan was leading him until he was in a small, clean bathroom, being lowered onto a toilet with the lid down. Aaron swallowed drily and shook his heavy head. “Derek… fuck… I need to lie down….” he murmured, truly feeling unwell again. “I know, man. You need to clean up first, though, I promise you’ll feel better after. Can I help you?” Derek replied softly, turning on the faucet of the old tub shower. Aaron took a few deep breaths and realized it had been days since he’d bathed. Scrubbing Kate’s blood from his body while confined to a bed did not count as getting clean. He could still feel the sticky residue clinging to his skin. “If by helping, you mean let me do it alone, then… yes,” Aaron finally responded, his voice haggard and exhausted but stern nonetheless. He wasn’t quite ready to let Derek help him take a damn bath. Even though… the thought made his stomach flip over and his heart speed up significantly.
That’s just the anxiety and exhaustion… nothing… nothing else.
Derek chuckled and raised his hands placatingly. “I just wanna make sure you don’t slip and break a hip, old man. If you think you can handle it, be my guest, I’ve got beers comin’ with that dinner delivery.” Hotch chuckled weakly, trying to push himself up and pretend the action didn’t send a terrible pain rippling throughout his wrecked body. “I’ll… be fine,” he whispered, palming at the buttons of his shirt where it was far too tight against his throat all of a sudden. He sensed Derek’s presence leaning close to him while he scrunched his eyes closed against the ringing in his ear yet again. “Let me help, Aaron…” Gentle hands drew his own away before deftly doing the work he simply couldn’t execute. Aaron found his forehead resting against Derek’s shoulder while the other man undressed him, button down, belt, pants, shoes… all of them gone before he heard Derek inhale slow and deep and those perfectly comforting hands left him standing cold and uncertain. “I can help you with those if you want… I, uh, drew a bath… Figured it’d be easier than standing up right now but… I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone right now, Hotch.” Hotch tried to steady himself against the wall and realized the those Morgan was referring to while staring resolutely at the wall with a light blush tainting his dark cheeks were his briefs.
Derek Morgan is embarrassed to strip me down when I’m basically catatonic. Hah. Ha… Huh…
Goddamit… why is that so fucking hot…
Why did he get us this little beach cabin? He could have just taken me home… we’re hours out of the way… is this… does he…
Aaron wasn’t thinking straight but then again… he hadn’t been thinking straight ever since Haley served him with divorce papers and he realized his life might be changing in more ways than one.
What if… he feels that same… same thing?
He realized he was trying to stand and strip at the same moment he felt his head absolutely split in two from the pain of trying to ignore his wooziness. “AH--D-Derek--” he gasped, nearly falling face first against the steaming clawfoot tub. Derek was there to catch him, holding him up, whispering in his ear…
“Hey, Aaron, hey… I got you, man, you are not alone, not gonna leave you alone…”
Aaron merely nodded with an exhausted sob against Derek’s shoulder while the other man helped him to stand and shuffle over to the tub full of rapidly cooling water. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Can I take these off? I won’t touch you anywhere you don’t want to be touched, alright?” Derek said gently, rubbing Aaron’s bare back up to the base of his neck with a squeeze. Aaron let his head roll into it, the knots in his neck begging to be worked out by Derek’s capable hands. “Alright… sorry, Derek… so tired, so… so overwhelmed. It’s all t-too much… sorry…” Aaron whispered as he allowed Derek to pull his briefs down and help him step out of them. He was so completely exhausted but… the feeling of Derek’s calloused fingers dragging along his legs to his ankle, pulling his underwear off, exposing him to the humid air of the steaming little beach shack bathroom… It awakened an entirely unthinkable possibility in the BAU Unit Chief’s head.
Two days…
Starting… now.
Derek stood back up slowly, his eyes fixed firm on the tile wall of the bathroom while he helped Aaron settle into the tub. He refused to let his eyes drift down where they wanted to drift… now was not the time, if ever there would come such a time… Hotch was a mess… he had to be there for him to help him, not fucking ogle him. Aaron sighed with relief as the warm water washed over his stiff body. He felt the horrible tightness dissipate slowly from his muscles with every second he submerged more deeply… every moment Derek’s hand guided him like that, keeping him from slipping too far when he just wanted to sink below the surface entirely… After a few minutes he realized Derek’s hands were there massaging his shoulders, his fingers kneading just deep enough to work through the knots but not hard enough to hurt. Aaron turned his face to the side, nuzzling the diligent wrist of his friend… coworker… whatever he was… He was too exhausted to care about hiding his feelings anymore. He was too broken… to far gone. Aaron Hotchner was getting divorced. He was under pressure from the brass above. He had nearly been blown to bits by a goddamned car bomb just a few days ago. One of his oldest friends and colleagues, his former lover for fuck’s sake… she was dead. He held her in his arms as long as he could after feeling that flame light again. Then he watched it flicker out and realized it was always just a decoy.
“HOTCH!”
Derek was there. Derek was here. Derek had brought him…
Here…
To this perfect place… I can rest here… with him.
He felt himself being lifted from the water after what felt like a lifetime of being lavished with gentle love and affection. The washcloth roving over his skin scrubbed the last of Kate’s dried blood away… the last of those scents from the explosion site, gunpowder and chemicals, smoke and antiseptic…
“Lean on me, Aaron, I have you… that’s it… wanna sleep on the porch?”
Aaron assumed he must have answered yes because when he next opened his eyes, all he could see was ocean. Ocean waves rolling darkly to lap at the shore below, reflecting an endless tapestry of golden stars from above through a screen that did nothing to filter the soothing primordial sound. He blinked a few times and realized he was wearing a pair of boxers that he would never buy… the loose kind that didn’t contain anything, nothing like his own boxer briefs he packed in his go bag. Aaron didn’t mind as much as thought he might, waking up with someone else’s underwear on his otherwise clean body. The sheets were crisp and smelled like lavender and salt. The pillow beneath his head was just firm enough to support his stiff neck. The air… the air was what had him feeling more relaxed than anything else. It was so fresh and cool, salty mist spraying across his face, the breeze ever-present through the screen… Aaron breathed deeply and stretched, his arms sneaking out from the sheets to arch above his head before he let them fall with a sigh across the pillow. He lay there contentedly for a moment just staring out at the waves before he realized someone was lying on the old daybed next to him. It was just a little snort that drew his eyes to the left and found Derek Morgan lying on top of the covers, fully clothed, gun and all, curled tightly against the daybed frame lining the old shiplap wall of the porch like he was afraid to touch Hotch at all. For a moment, Hotch could only stare in confused shock to find himself in bed with his second in command Agent. The steady beat of the waves against the shore helped him organize his thoughts the longer he gazed at Derek’s peaceful face. He started to remember more of the previous night. The days preceding it. Every little bit in between. The way he felt when Derek last touched him… the things the younger man had said to keep him grounded when Aaron felt as if he were spiraling completely out of control….
Derek… God, Derek… he’s here… just… sleeping next to me.
Here. In this… place.
Dewey Beach, Delaware. Ha…
This place has meaning for him and he knew I would like it… I do like it… no strip malls, no casinos, no stupid boardwalks…. Just… the beach.
Old motels. Weird cabins on million dollar plots of sand….
Derek…
Hotch shifted to his side to watch Derek sleep in his tight little ball. He appreciated the fact that the man hadn’t tried to cuddle him in the night. Even though… Right now, in the morning light… he would not have minded those muscular arms wrapping around him to hold him close. Aaron rather thought, the longer he watched Derek’s sleeping face, he’d be more than receptive to such affections.
Shit. Shit shit shit--
He rolled over with a huff when he felt himself respond to the wayward daydream. The small bed didn’t allow him to roll far before he met the edge of the bed with a gasp that kept going.
Breathe. Stop thinking about that. Derek’s not gay and… and I don’t know what I am, I’ve never known and I am not in a position to figure it out now--shit--just stop, that isn’t what this is, he can’t possibly be interested in that--
Aaron only stopped hyperventilating when he felt a hand brush his shoulder and squeeze gently from behind. The body lying there rolled toward him slightly. “Aaron? You okay?” Derek whispered sleepily, shifting so their bodies lay lengthwise along the day bed. The first rays of east-rising sun crept along their legs through the screen from the horizon beyond. One pair bare and one still wearing pants. Aaron noticed Derek wasn’t wearing shoes. His feet were bare and sandy, the cuffs of his pants rolled up like he’d walked the beach before coming to bed. Here. With him. Intentionally. Aaron didn’t know what to say. He started talking anyway. “I’m… I’m fine… Derek,” he whispered back with a shudder when Derek’s hand slid down his arm to grip his elbow. “Good morning,” he forced out politely, wanting nothing more than to give into his most base impulses and skip all the talking… the impulses were telling him to roll over and kiss the man holding him from behind, the man who brought him here to this beautiful place, the one man he could fight with and love angrily no matter what… the man who would always take care of him… respect him… and demand respect right back.
Derek… touch me… we don’t ever have to talk about it again… just… just touch me--
Derek shifted closer, resting his chin tentatively on Aaron’s shoulder, turning to nuzzle Aaron’s ear with a gentle puff of air that spoke more than he could actually articulate at the moment. It took all the control he had not to press a kiss against his throat while he hovered there, breathing deep, waiting for some secret signal… he stayed still, watching the gooseflesh prickle along Aaron’s neck from his bare chest… the flush gathering there didn’t help the gathering tension from having its desired affect upon both men caught up in the delirious sunrise moment. He heard Aaron barely suppress a whimper and felt his hips roll back to gain contact with his own, every muscle in Aaron’s body tightening moments before he sighed so contentedly… it was the confirmation he’d been looking for that their attraction was mutual, even though he’d still be asking, he still had to hear it voiced out loud… He always had to have explicit consent in these situations and this time… this time was so fucking different from all those other times. This time mattered more. “Aaron… Can I kiss your neck… can I… can I kiss you…” Derek whispered, rubbing his nose up along Aaron’s neck with a thrill in his gut that felt like he’d just taken a flying leap off a cliff into some unknown beyond. The silence gathered while he fell through the nothingness, wondering if he’d stepped too far over the edge. “Yes… Derek, fucking--just kiss me already--fuck--” Aaron gripped the teasing hand grazing his hip and rolled over to meet this newest challenge head on after dancing around it for far too long. His attraction to Derek Morgan had been boiling beneath the surface of their relationship for years. Now… he’d been given the go ahead. His head still hurt, he was still overwhelmed by everything he’d experienced over the last few days… months… years… but… he nearly lost his chance to explore this side of himself when Morgan drove that damn ambulance into a park in the middle of Manhattan and saved the fucking President of the United States from being blown to bits.
He deserves some recognition… and I deserve to feel wanted again.
He wants me. I want him.
The rising sun flickered across their faces suddenly while they stared each other in the eye, inches apart, years of strife separating them while those same years laced them together through shared experience. It was like coming home when they both realized what it was they were about to do. Derek bit his lip against a grin. Aaron scowled and cocked his head, focusing on Dere’s bitten bottom lip with an intensity that spoke quite a lot about his horny, unpredictable state. “What?” Aaron asked innocently, tracing a single finger down across Derek’s throat to play a soundless tune along his collarbone. Derek chuckled softly, reaching up to stroke Aaron’s wrist right back. “I’ve been thinkin’ about this moment for years… here we are at the beach… two days at our disposal…. I just need to ask you, Aaron, before I get too carried away…” Aaron focused on Derek’s shifty eyes. They met his and Derek took a deep breath. “Do you want… to be with me? In… in every way we can be together? No commitment, I'm not asking for that, I won't assume that kind of thing just yet but... just… for right now. Do you want to explore this with me?” Morgan swept his gaze across Aaron's shocked face before he squeezed his eyes closed and leaned back, letting go of Aaron’s body entirely, releasing him from any kind of obligation, any kind of perceived threat… Aaron was still vulnerable and sick, it wasn’t fair, he was asking too much, expecting FAR too much of his own need--He didn't expect the man to grip him tight and lean in, one hand sliding up to cradle his chin and make him look down. “I want it, Derek. Two days…. We have two days. Show me what it looks like when I have someone to love and no other obligation.”