Call Me Yours
Aaron Hotcher/Female Reader (9.4k words) Also available on AO3
Summary:
You blamed it on the alcohol.
The combination of a glass of wine with dinner, after-dinner drinks, a couple of shots, and the overall joviality of the night was surely the reason why you felt it was a brilliant idea to confess aloud your teeny tiny minuscule barely even there crush on one Aaron Hotchner to your friend Penelope.
OR
Five times you regretted telling Penelope your secret crush and the one time you didn’t.
You blamed it on the alcohol.
The combination of a glass of wine with dinner, after-dinner drinks, a couple of shots, and the overall joviality of the night was surely the reason why you felt it was a brilliant idea to confess aloud your teeny tiny minuscule barely even there crush on one Aaron Hotchner to your friend Penelope.
Thankfully, it had only been the two of you in her apartment when you blurted out your long-held thoughts on the BAU’s unit chief.
Penelope, of course, had been delighted to hear that you were smitten with the boss-man and wasted no time in plotting and planning your confession to him.
To which you had laughed heartily and patted her hand conciliatorily—and perhaps a bit patronizingly at such a silly idea—because there was no way in this great big beautiful world of ours that you would ever say those words to Agent Hotchner’s face.
Because then he would hear them and then he would know and then what would you do?
You supposed it wouldn’t be too hard to pack up and move to someplace like Timbuktu, or Wales, or New Zealand, never to speak with anyone ever again. You’re sure you could find a way to make a living wherever you ended up.
Because you knew that confessing to him could only lead to one thing and you weren’t up for that level of rejection, no matter how gently he tried to deliver it—and you knew he would be as kind as possible. That was an interaction you could live without, thank you very much.
You had planned to keep your burgeoning feelings tucked safely away in a hidden corner of your heart, only to be brought out on special occasions and holidays like fine china. Or, if you were being honest, after every interaction you had with the man and sometimes late at night when the loneliness was at its peak.
But you had never planned on telling anyone, let alone your co-worker turned friend who was notoriously bad at keeping secrets and a world-class meddler.
Thus began a war of wills between you and your friend; Penelope, determined to help you find love and happiness with a man she was convinced was just as smitten with you as you were with him, and you, ready to thwart her at every turn because there was no way a man like him would ever be interested in you.
***
The first skirmish happened a few days after your drunken divulgence.
You were standing in Penelope’s lair, taking notes on the tasks she needed your help with.
Like her, you were a technical analyst, though you worked in another department. You were nowhere near the caliber of Penelope—few were—but you were capable at your job. That was how you met her, in fact. You had been called in to help with some background checks and surface-level research while Penelope had been tasked with a deep dive that needed her full attention.
That was also how you met Agent Hotchner.
You had been hurrying out of the elevator and down the hall to the office your supervisor directed you to, focusing on finding the correct door—both nervous and excited to be assigned to help the prestigious BAU—when you accidentally bumped into a tall man exiting said office. Though bumped into was a gentle way of saying that you rammed your face straight into his chest at full speed.
You heard a low oof as the head-on collision caused you to bounce backward on your heels and you could feel yourself teetering before a large, warm hand steadied you.
You looked up—and up, he really was impressively tall compared to you—into dark eyes set in a rather stern face. The imposing man stared down intently at you with a furrowed brow and for one panic-fueled moment, you felt as though those eyes could see into your very soul.
But then rationality returned and you realized you were standing incredibly close to a stranger that you had literally just run into.
You had backed up immediately causing his hand to drop from your arm and your traitorous brain had quickly noted multiple things simultaneously; namely that his chest was appealingly firm, that he smelled amazing, and that his hand had felt comfortingly warm.
Any one of those thoughts would have been enough to make you blush, but the combination created an almost overwhelming heat that quickly flooded your cheeks.
“I am so sorry,” you blurted as you straightened, regaining your balance. “I wasn’t looking where I was going and didn’t see you and I didn’t mean to nearly bowl you over. Are you okay? I really am sorry—”
“Yes, I’m fine,” a low, gruff voice interrupted. “Are you? You hit pretty hard.”
Your face was positively flaming now.
“I am so sorry.” You shook your head. “I’m okay. No pain beyond excruciating embarrassment. I promise I am usually much more aware of my surroundings.”
The hint of a smile softened his features. “No harm done. Was there something I could help you with?”
You smiled, relieved that he wasn’t upset with you and more than happy to change the topic. “I’m looking for a Miss Garcia? My supervisor Agent O’Neill sent me.”
“Ah, yes. I was expecting you. I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner, I asked Sam to send me her best.”
The blush that had finally started to recede reared back to life as you grinned sheepishly. “Rest assured, my computer skills are much better than my coordination.”
And that’s when your life as you knew it was changed forever because Aaron Hotchner had the audacity to smile at you. Dimples and all.
Then he chuckled. Lowly and gruffly and insanely attractively.
And you were instantly smitten, with no hope of reversing the damage that had been done by the proverbial Cupid’s arrow that he’d just launched at you.
With no regard for your sudden life-altering moment, Agent Hotchner had unceremoniously guided you into Miss Garcia’s office, performed a quick introduction, and then sauntered off without a second glance, unknowingly carrying away a tiny piece of your heart in his hands.
It had taken you a few moments to focus on the task at hand, but Penelope had been patient with you, and once you were able to shake off the effects of meeting Agent Hotchner, the two of you got down to business.
You and Penelope had worked well together that day and you had since been asked back multiple times. Hence your summons to her domain today.
The two of you were wrapping up when a knock sounded at the door and Agent Hotchner entered.
“Garcia, I—Oh, good she’s here. I was just going to suggest you call in some reinforcements if you needed any help but seems you beat me to it.” He smiled at Penelope and acknowledged you with a nod. “Nice to see you again.”
It took you a second to realize he was speaking to you—as focused as you were on his incredibly distracting smile—causing you to rush out your response in a moment of embarrassment. “Oh, yes sir. Nice to see you too, Agent Hotchner.”
His eyes did a cursory scan of you, something you noticed he did every time you saw him, though you guessed that was something ingrained in him at this point after all his years as a profiler. “You can call me Hotch, if you’d like. Everyone else does.”
You prayed your face was not glowing as pink as you thought it was. “Oh, I… Thank you, but I…”
You sighed, frustrated with how you were stumbling over your words.
Thankfully, his phone rang before things became even more awkward and he excused himself. You could hear his curt “Hotchner” as the door closed behind him.
You kept your back to Penelope, but you could practically feel the elation radiating from her.
“Saved by the cell, huh?” Her teasing tone was only a tiny bit irritating. You couldn’t really blame her. You’d be teasing her if the situation were reversed.
You pressed your hands to your burning cheeks and turned to look at her. “Okay. On a scale of one to ten, how bad was that really?”
“Oh, a solid five.”
You groaned.
“But there is a silver lining.”
“How? I completely forgot the entirety of the English language and I’m sure I could heat the room with my face.”
Penelope chuckled and leaned forward. “Don’t think I didn’t notice him taking a good look at you. Those eyes lingered on their way back up, too.” She smiled smugly. “I told you that skirt was fire.”
“No, I seriously doubt that’s what he was noticing. He was probably just reading my incredibly awkward body language.”
“Oh, I’m sure he’d love to study your body in every language.”
“Penelope!”
***
It was two weeks later, and thankfully you hadn’t had another awkward encounter with Agent Hotcher.
Though, you knew it was likely you were living on borrowed time.
You were arriving to work with Penelope, having met at her favorite cafe to grab breakfast together before heading in. You each had decided to surprise your respective teams with their own treats as well, so you both were juggling your drinks and a large box of delicious-smelling pastries.
As you approached the entrance, one of the guards spotted you and kindly held a door open for you to enter. Not wanting him to wait, you hurried up the steps only to trip on the last one, nearly dropping everything as you stumbled about, trying to regain your balance. You managed to save the pastries, but your half-full coffee tumbled to the ground, the lid popping open and spraying you with the contents.
Penelope turned back to check on you. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just tripped.” You looked down to see your new heels completely soaked.
Bending down, you quickly dabbed at the coffee staining your shoes with the napkins you’d grabbed at the cafe, hoping the liquid would just wipe off. It did not.
You huffed as you stood. “Well, fuck. I just bought these.”
Good thing you kept an extra pair of shoes in your office.
Penelope blinked. “Did you just cuss?”
You blinked back at her. “Yes?”
She gasped dramatically. “I’ve never heard you cuss before!”
You resisted rolling your eyes as you continued past her into the lobby, thanking the guard who was still gallantly holding the door. You spoke over your shoulder to Penelope. “Oh, come on. It’s just a word.”
“I know but I can’t believe my little Cinnamon Roll just used an expletive!”
“Your Cinnamon Roll? I thought that was Morgan.”
“Nope. He’s my Chocolate Thunder. Or Hot Stuff. Or Angel Face. You are my Cinnamon Roll.”
You snorted as you walked through the metal detectors, gathering your items again on the other side. “How am I the cinnamon roll when you’re here?”
“Because that’s what you are, sugar.” She blew you a kiss as she grabbed her things.
You eyed her suspiciously. “This is going to be what you call me from now on, isn’t it?”
She smiled gleefully. “Yep!”
“Well, if I’m going to be Cinnamon Roll, then I’m calling you Cupcake.”
“Cupcake?”
“Yeah, because cupcakes are all bright and colorful, fun and sweet. Like you.”
Penelope grinned. “Aw, thanks.”
You wrinkled your nose at her. “You’re welcome.”
You balanced the pastry box in one hand as you pressed the elevator call button. “And I guess I’ll accept being your Cinnamon Roll. Makes a bit of sense, actually. They may not always be the best looking things but they are sweet and a little spicy. Maybe a bit dry sometimes but always enjoyable.”
“What’s dry but enjoyable?”
You startled at the deep voice coming from behind you, turning to see Agent Hotchner looking between the two of you. Beside you, Penelope was grinning mischievously.
“Cinnamon rolls.” She chirped, looking much too pleased at the turn of events.
You could feel the blush coming as you heard the ding signaling the arriving elevator.
Being the gentleman that he was, Agent Hotchner reached forward to hold the doors, gesturing for the two of you to enter. He followed you in and hit the buttons for both of your floors.
Penelope glanced at you with a smirk. “You like cinnamon rolls, don’t you sir?”
Agent Hotchner hummed in agreement. “I do. They’re my favorite breakfast treat, actually.”
“Your favorite, huh?” Penelope waggled her eyebrows at you and you thanked everything that was good that Agent Hotcher was standing in front of her and didn’t look around to see her display or the ever-persistent blush on your face his mere presence caused.
“Good thing I grabbed some to share this morning then.” Penelope winked at you.
Agent Hotchner looked over his shoulder at her, his eyes darting to you briefly. “I wouldn’t say no to a cinnamon roll.”
He faced forward again while you tried your hardest not to die on the spot.
Penelope nudged you with her elbow, her face more gleeful than you’d ever seen it.
The elevator slowed to a stop and the doors slid open to your floor, saving you from more of Penelope’s not-at-all subtle teasing.
Agent Hotcher stepped to the side, allowing you to exit, which you did with a nod, forcing yourself to look anywhere but him. “Have a good day, Pen. Agent Hotchner.”
“You, too.”
You closed your eyes at the sound. Did he have to say it all low and raspy like that? Didn’t he know he should be careful how he wielded that voice of his? It was dangerous, to both your heart and your knickers.
You rushed down the hall without a second glance.
An hour later, you received a text from Penelope, and you couldn’t help but laugh. She’d sent a photo of the team enjoying their pastries, with a heart drawn around Agent Hotcher as he took a large bite from one of the cinnamon rolls. See, her accompanying text said, he looooves cinnamon rolls.
***
A few days later, you were in the BAU bullpen chatting with Penelope and Morgan before heading home for the day.
You were chuckling at the back-and-forth banter between the two when a bright voice cried, “Miss Penelope!”
The three of you turned to see an excited Jack Hotchner rushing towards you, his beleaguered aunt not far behind.
You had met Jack a few times and always enjoyed seeing the cheerful boy, who was now giving Penelope a fierce hug.
“Hey, mini Hotch! How’s it going?”
Jack beamed up at Penelope. “I did it! I got an A on that presentation you helped me with. The teacher liked the design and everything! She said it was very creative.”
“That’s awesome!” Penelope cheered.
“Way to go, little man!” Morgan gave Jack a high-five while you and his aunt Jessica shared a grin.
“I was going to take him home like usual,’ Jessica said. “But he insisted he had to tell Miss Penelope immediately.”
“What was the presentation on, Jack?” You asked.
He turned with a grin. “Darth Vader: From Hero to Villian to Heroic Anti-Villian.”
Your lips curled into a matching grin. “That sounds amazing actually.”
“The teacher even let me do part of the presentation in my mask!”
“You have a Darth Vader mask?”
He nodded. “It’s a full mask that lights up and everything.”
“That’s so cool. Does it augment your voice and do the—“ You mimicked Darth Vader’s breathing as best you could. It was a poor imitation, but it made Jack giggle, so you counted it as a win anyway.
“It does! My dad got me the full costume for Halloween.”
“That sounds like the best costume ever. I’m sad I missed seeing it.”
“Oh, Aunt Jessica videoed it. I can show you, if you want.”
“Yeah, I’d love that.”
You looked to Jessica with a smile as Jack blurted out. “Okay!”
And with that, he spun and dashed towards his dad’s office.
“Wait, Jack! Don’t… Aaand he’s gone.” You looked towards Jessica, Penelope, and Morgan, who all just shrugged.
Moments later Jack returned, pulling a confused Agent Hotchner behind him. He stopped beside you and looked up at his dad. “I need your phone please.”
Agent Hotchner blinked. “What do you need it for?”
Jack pointed at you. “So I can show her that video of my Vader costume,” he said in a tone that implied he thought the reason was obvious.
“The video that your aunt, who’s standing right beside her, also has on her phone?”
“Yeah.” Jack replied.
“Then why did you need my phone?”
Jack shrugged. “I dunno. You always let me use it when I ask.”
With the long-suffering sigh of a father used to his son’s antics, Agent Hotchner pulled out his phone to pull up the video, then handed it to Jack. “Here.”
“Thanks, Dad!” Jack smiled sweetly at him.
You could feel your biological clock screaming at you as you witnessed Agent Hotchner completely soften and smile down at his son fondly, all the irritation from a moment ago forgotten.
Holy moly, but fatherhood was a good look on him. You’d never really been interested in the concepts of DILFs, but you certainly were now.
With your ogling, you nearly missed the start of the video when Jack held it a bit too closely to your face in his eagerness to share it with you. You steadied it with your hand and lowered it so you could watch it together.
You grinned as you watched Jack having the time of his life, fully decked out in the coolest Darth Vader costume you had ever seen, as he wielded his lightsaber and used the Force to ‘open’ a set of elevator doors.
You listened as he explained all the features of the costume and lightsaber, and how he still liked to put it on sometimes at home.
“Dad said the next free weekend we have, we can watch all of the movies together.”
“That sounds like a lot of fun. I used to watch them with my mom and we’d stock up on candy and popcorn. Of course, there were only three movies back then.”
“Really? Which is your favorite movie?”
“Return of the Jedi.”
Jack gasped. “That’s Dad’s favorite, too!”
You glanced at Agent Hotchner, shooting him a quick smile, before Jack drew your attention again by asking another question. “Who is your favorite character? I like Darth Vader but Luke is cool too.”
“Princess Leia.”
“Oh,” Jack said sounding a little disappointed. “But she didn’t have a lightsaber or use the Force or anything.”
“No, but she is a princess with a blaster, and she’s just as tough as the guys. She took down Jabba with a chain. And she’s really clever.”
Jack tilted his head and squinted his eyes in thought before nodding. “Yeah, you’re right. She’s actually pretty cool for a princess.”
“And her second favorite character is Han Solo.” Penelope chimed in. She turned to you with a much too innocent smile. “Isn’t he the one who inspired your admiration of tall, dark, and handsome men?”
If death by glare were possible, Penelope would become its latest statistic.
Jack spoke excitedly beside you while you kept your lethal glare focused on your friend and pointedly did not look at anyone else. Especially the tall, dark, and handsome man standing nearby. “Dad! She likes Han Solo, too!”
Agent Hotchner chuckled. “Yeah, I heard buddy.”
“She likes your favorite movie and your favorite character!”
“She must have good taste, then.”
“Oh, she does,” Penelope agreed. “Impeccable taste. In fact, you might be pleasantly surprised by the things she loves.”
You couldn’t bear to look at Agent Hotchner’s reaction to that, so you dropped your eyes to your hands, fiddling with the phone you were still holding.
His phone.
You squeezed your eyes shut before looking back up at him, only to find him already looking at you.
“Oh,” you breathed and quickly offered the phone back to him. “I’m sorry Agent Hotchner. I forgot I was still holding on to this. Thank you for letting us borrow your phone.”
“You’re welcome.” He smiled as he took the phone, his hand brushing against yours and it was just as warm as you remembered. “And it’s Hotch, remember?”
You fought against the urge to drop your head again to hide from his piercing eyes and forced yourself to nod nonchalantly, though your words came out more breathy than you liked. “Yes, sir.”
His eyes seemed to darken at that and you found yourself torn between losing yourself in his gaze and fleeing before he caught on to your desire to do just that.
Luckily, you were saved from having to decide by Jessica’s phone ringing loudly and drawing your attention. She gave an apologetic smile before giving a quick goodbye kiss to Jack and a fond pat on Agent Hotchner’s arm. “Sorry, I have to run. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”
Seizing the opportunity, you quickly followed suit. “I need to head out, too. I’ll walk with you.”
You gave everyone a short wave and spun to follow her, not looking back until you were at the elevators. A subtle peek provided you one last view of Agent Hotchner smiling down at his son, prompting your own soft smile.
You had only meant to steal a glimpse, but you could never resist it when he smiled. Before you could tear your eyes away, he glanced up and caught you watching, his warm smile now directed at you.
You jerked your head forward, embarrassed at being caught and hoping Jessica hadn’t noticed your crimson cheeks.
If the grin on her face was anything to go by, she had. Thankfully, she was kind enough not to tease you about it.
Even when you darted into the elevator before the doors were fully open and wedged yourself in the corner out of view with an unflattering squeak as you pressed your hands to your flaming cheeks.
***
You were making your way to the cafeteria to grab a quick lunch when you heard the rapid staccato of high heels behind you.
“Hey, Cinnamon Roll!” Penelope scurried to catch up with you. “Fancy seeing you here.”
You chuckled. “You mean here at the cafeteria where I almost always grab lunch around this time? What are the odds?”
She swatted at you with a tsk as she linked her arm with yours. “Don’t be cheeky.”
“Please. You love me being cheeky.”
“Yeah, but not when it’s directed at me.”
“Whatever you say, Cupcake.”
You made your way into the queue, peeking to see what was on offer for the day. The food was generally good, but sometimes the options were limited. You ended up settling for a sandwich while Penelope went with a salad.
You chatted while you ate, your lunch break going by much more enjoyably with your friend there.
You were discussing the recent episode of a show you both watched when Penelope looked up. “Huh. What’s he doing here?”
You followed her gaze to find Agent Hotchner in the queue. “Well, using my astute powers of deduction, I’d say he’s getting some food, just like everyone else here.”
She huffed. “You’re at full capacity cheek today. I meant, that he doesn’t usually come to the cafeteria.”
You shrugged. “He did today.”
Penelope hummed and then that mischievous grin you had learned to be weary of crept across her face.
Your eyes widened because you knew she was about to do something meddlesome.
And you were right.
Before you could stop her, she waved wildly and called out, “Hotch!”
His head swiveled in your direction and you could have sworn his face actually lit up just the tiniest bit when he saw you. He quickly paid and made his way over to your table.
“Hey, you two. Enjoying lunch?”
“We are,” Penelope replied with that puckish grin. “Would you care to join us?”
“Oh,” Agent Hotchner’s brows creased slightly. “I have a meeting soon so I have to run. Sorry.”
Was it just your endless hopefulness regarding him, or did he sound disappointed?
“That’s alright, Agent Hotchner. Don’t let us keep you. We were almost done, anyway.”
His eyes did his now routine scan of you before the corner of his mouth quirked up in a small smile that almost seemed wistful. “How many times do I have to tell you to just call me Hotch?”
That ever-constant blush warmed your cheeks yet again. You never knew what to do with yourself whenever he looked at you. This man always made you flustered beyond reason.
You could see he was waiting for you to respond so you blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “At least once more, Agent Hotchner. As always.”
To your dismay, his eyes seemed to dim as the quirk of his lips dropped a fraction.
“Right,” He breathed out.
He studied you for a moment longer before glancing at his watch and giving a quick wince. “I have to go. Enjoy the rest of your meal.”
He pivoted on his heel and was halfway to the exit before either of you could reply.
You watched him leave, barely aware of the open longing on your face. Once he was out of sight, you turned back to Penelope to see her biting her lip to hide a smile and her eyebrows well above her frames.
You tilted your head. “What?”
Her eyes shined merrily as she asked, “Did you just quote the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie at him?”
You didn’t know what to say as you felt heat flood your entire face.
“OMG, you did!” Penelope cackled.
“I panicked, okay? I’m fluent in movie quotes and it just slipped out!” You buried your burning face in your hands.
That only made Penelope laugh even harder. “This is why I love you so much, Cinnamon Roll.”
“I can’t help it! I get so nervous around him.”
“Is that why you refuse to call him Hotch?”
“I don’t refuse to. I just… I don’t know. It feels safer to just call him by his title. Less chance of me slipping and saying something we’d both regret.”
Penelope looked at you thoughtfully. “I’ve known Hotch for a long time and I’m positive he wouldn’t regret hearing that. In fact, I’d bet my favorite fluffy pink pen that he’d welcome it. Be overjoyed by it, even. He might even smile.”
You sighed. “Not this again, Pen. I love how supportive and encouraging you are about everything, but on this, you’re wrong. He does not see me that way and probably never will.”
“Well, you’ll never know if you don’t try. You should start by calling him Hotch next time you see him and watch his little frown turn upside down.”
“Not gonna happen,” you declared with a petulant shake of your head.
“So you’re just going to call him Agent Hotchner for the rest of your life?”
You crossed your arms defiantly. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
She smirked. “Are you gonna call him Agent in bed? Not my kink, but I can see the appeal.”
You gaped at her. “‘Penelope!”
She cackled again.
***
Your workday was finally over and not a moment too soon.
You slid into your jacket with a huff and snatched up your things, taking yet another deep breath when yet another ping came from your phone as yet another text was received.
They had been increasing in frequency for the last hour.
You stomped down the hall, jabbed the elevator call button, tapped your foot impatiently until it arrived, and darted in the moment the doors opened. Thankfully, it was empty so no one had to bear witness to your increasing frustration at the slowness of the elevator.
When it finally reached your desired floor, you stalked down the hall to your destination.
Your eyes dropped to the phone in your hand when another text came through as you burst into Penelope’s lair without knocking, already mid-rant. “Penelope Middle Name Garcia! Why have you been spamming me with DILF memes all afternoo—”
You looked up from your phone expecting to see a grinning Penelope, only to find Agent Hotchner there looking at you with a raised brow and bemused smile.
You jerked to a halt, torn between wanting the floor to swallow you whole in your embarrassment or plotting out the imminent demise of your meddlesome friend.
Both seemed like great options at the moment.
Then Penelope leaned out from behind her boss, wearing the most impish smirk you had ever seen.
You narrowed your eyes at her and she batted hers right back.
Problem solved, then. Plotting her imminent demise it was.
But, unfortunately, that would have to wait until after you’d recovered from your latest display of awkwardness in front of Agent Hotchner.
Who was still watching you and looked to be enjoying the moment nearly as much as Penelope.
Mortified, you scrambled to say something, anything, to redeem yourself.
“I’m so sorry, Agent Hotchner!” You squeaked—a sound that was high and breathy and not at all attractive.
Now you were rethinking your choice.
Yes, having the floor open beneath you and saving you from this sounded like the better outcome now.
Why, oh why couldn't you ever act like a normal human being around this man?
Determined to get out of this as unscathed as possible, you cleared your throat and tried again. “I apologize, sir. I didn’t mean to interrupt your meeting with Penelope. Please excuse me.”
You began to turn when he took a step towards you, his hand partly raised towards you. “No, no,” he said in a rush.
His hand clenched and he stuffed it into his pocket. “You didn’t interrupt anything. We were already done.”
“Oh, that’s good. I’m still sorry for bursting in unannounced.”
He chuckled and your heart raced in delight. “Well, it sounds like you had justified cause.” He looked at Penelope over his shoulder. “Maybe refrain from spamming memes during work hours, okay Garcia?”
Penelope smiled and saluted. “Aye aye, sir.”
Agent Hotchner shook his head and turned back to you with a grin you couldn’t help but return. His eyes locked with yours and for a moment, you lost yourself in their depths. You would have been content to remain like that but the moment broke when he cleared his throat. “Well. I’ll leave you ladies to it. I have a bit more work before I can head home.”
He nodded to Penelope and made to leave, pausing at the door. He looked back at you with a sly smile. “Oh, and it’s Grace.”
You tilted your head. “Pardon?”
“Garcia’s middle name. For the next time you want to yell at her for sending you DILF memes.”
Then he did something that you were in no way prepared for and would never forget in your lifetime.
Your eyes widened almost painfully as your face flushed.
He winked.
At you.
Agent Hotchner winked at you and was out the door before your brain caught up.
You stood frozen for a long moment before exhaling a shaky breath. You dazedly shuffled to the chair Penelope had acquired for the times you needed to work alongside her and plopped down, your eyes still trained on the door.
“Did…” You slowly turned your head towards an enthusiastically grinning Penelope. “Did Agent Hotchner just wink at me?”
Penelope was nearly bouncing in her seat as she clapped her hands excitedly. “Yes! He most assuredly did! And he teased you! Oh, this is the best day ever. I never thought I’d live to see the day Hotch teased a woman about DILF memes. And he winked! I didn’t know he could do that.”
You continued to stare in her direction, but all you could see was a replay of him winking at you. With as flustered as it made you, that wink should be labeled a deadly weapon. You would never be the same. There would be the you before the wink, and the you after.
Scratch that.
There very well may be no you after. Because you’re pretty sure you died. That was it. You were dead and your tombstone would read death by wink and tales would be long told of your tragic demise.
Because there was no way you were going to survive knowing that Agent Hotchner teased you and then winked, after saying the word DILF, of which he was the prime example.
You knew exactly why Penelope had been sending you increasingly inappropriate memes about DILFs. And it was because of the man that just left you as a puddle on the floor whom you were absolutely besotted with.
But then a horrifying thought struck you.
“Pen?”
“Yeah?”
“How likely is it that he knows those memes were about him?”
Penelope hummed in thought. “Honestly, maybe 20 percent?”
You looked at her skeptically.
“Look, Hotch is a brilliant profiler. One of the best I’ve seen, but when it comes to things like this, he can be completely oblivious.”
You shook your head. “I doubt that.”
“Trust me. He’s often the first to notice when a person is crushing on someone, but never if he’s that someone. He never sees it. Maybe he just doesn’t want to but I think he just can’t imagine anyone finding him attractive.”
“Seriously? Does the man not own a mirror?”
“I know. It’s crazy but he never picks up on it whenever he gets hit on. It’s like he has blinders up just for that.”
“Oh.”
“But,” she grabbed your hand and squeezed gently. “I’ve never seen him act the way he does around you. I’ve told you before but hopefully, you’ll believe me this time. I think he’s interested in you. I think if you were very clear with him, told him straight out that you’re attracted to him and interested in getting to know him, asked him on a date, he’d say yes in a heartbeat.”
You worried your bottom lip, anxiety rushing through your veins at the mere idea of confessing to him. “I don’t know, Pen. I’m not… I’ve never done that.” You sighed. “I’ve never been any good at this and the thought of telling him how I feel terrifies me.”
She smiled kindly. “I know. But don’t you think he’s worth it?”
Of course, he is, was your immediate thought. Who could ever think otherwise?
He was handsome, of course, but that wasn’t what truly attracted you to him.
It was all the little parts of him that caught your attention and drew you in.
It was his kindness, bravery, and strength. It was seeing glimpses of his humor and light-hearted moments. It was witnessing him being a good leader, a better friend, and the best dad.
It was all the things you knew about him and all the things you still wanted to learn.
It was the fact that he was a decent man, an admirable man, a good man.
Yes, you thought. He is absolutely worth it.
***
You sat at the bar, your chin resting in your hand. You glanced at your phone, checking the time again. Penelope had stopped by your office earlier that day, demanding that you meet her for dinner and drinks that night. As you had no plans, you readily agreed.
However, she was late so you were restlessly waiting in the lounge of the restaurant, sipping on a fruity cocktail.
A few minutes passed and you looked towards the entrance again, hoping to see your brightly dressed friend.
She wasn’t there, but someone else you recognized was.
Agent Hotchner was standing there, scanning the room like he was looking for someone.
Even in the low lights of the lounge, he caught your eye. He stood a head above the other mingling patrons, his dark hair softer than he normally kept it at work. He was dressed casually, for him, in a black button shirt and dark jeans. His sleeves were partially rolled, drawing your eyes down his arms to see his fingers tapping on his leg.
You looked up in time to see him notice you. He tilted his head with a smile and made his way through the crowd to you.
”Hello,” you breathed out when he was close enough to hear.
”Hello.” His eyes ran over you in that familiar pattern, lingering for just a moment where your legs crossed as you sat on the stool. “You look lovely.”
Your cheeks flushed, as was their habit when he was near, and you thanked your earlier self for taking the time to dress up a little for the evening. “Thank you. You look nice, too.”
He grinned as he shuffled closer to you in order to let someone pass. “Thanks. It’s nice to be out of the suit for the weekend.”
You had to agree. While he was distractingly attractive in his suits, he was devastatingly handsome dressed like this.
You’d have to remember to thank Penelope later for picking this restaurant. You were very much enjoying the view.
“It’s a pleasant surprise, running into you here.” He looked at the empty stools beside you. “Are you meeting someone?”
“Ah, yes. I’m meeting up with Pen, but I guess she’s running late. You?”
He nodded. “Same. Meeting a friend. Looks like he’s not here yet, either.”
You felt a flash of relief. He’s not on a date then. That’s good.
You smiled, looking up into his eyes as he stood beside you. So far, this had been the best interaction you’d had with him. No awkwardness on your part and no meddling friends nearby.
It was nice, being here with him. You wanted the moment to last.
Gathering all your courage, you decided to take a chance. “I was just having a drink until our table was ready. You’re welcome to join me while you wait.”
His smile grew, his dimples coming out to play. “I’d like that. Thank you.”
He sat on the stool beside you, his long leg nearly brushing yours as he adjusted.
You took a sip of your drink, peeking at Agent Hotchner as he flagged down the bartender. You couldn't keep your eyes from running up the length of his arm, watching his muscles flex and move.
You nearly startled when your phone pinged, buzzing against the bartop and drawing his attention. You shot him an apologetic smile as you reached for your phone, meeting his eye when his own phone buzzed.
You shared a grin at the coincidence, before you both checked your phones.
Sorry Cinnamon Roll, the text from Penelope read. I’m not going to be able to make it.
Is everything alright? You asked her.
Yes, everything’s fine. A thing came up. Sorry, sugar. You should stay and enjoy yourself though.
You held in a sigh as you began to type your response, stopping when another arrived from Penelope. Maybe you can find someone else to enjoy the evening with. A certain tall dark and broody someone, perhaps?
Suspicion flared within you and your lips flattened into a thin line. You already know he’s here, don’t you?
Hotch is there? WOW, what a crazy random happenstance!
You glared at your phone, hoping she could feel your wrath on the other end. Penelope Cupcake Garcia! Did you set this up?
You know my middle name’s Grace.
Your lips pressed together even tighter. PEN!
You waited impatiently until her replies came in rapid succession.
I plead the fifth.
Take a chance. He’s worth it, right?
Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!
But definitely do everything I would. 😏
It was moments like these that made you both love and hate Penelope Garcia
You chanced a peek at Agent Hotcher. He was bent over his phone, rapidly typing away. Maybe it was the lighting, but you could have sworn he had the beginnings of a blush on his cheeks.
He huffed and glanced at you. “Sorry about that.”
“That’s okay. My night with Pen has been canceled. She can’t make it.”
He hummed. “Dave just canceled on me, too. Somehow, I’m not surprised.”
“Does he do that often?”
“Rarely, in fact.”
“Oh.”
“I think our friends may have set us up.”
You buried your face in your hands. “Oh, no. This is all my fault. I’m so sorry, Agent Hotchner. Pen probably planned this whole thing and roped poor Rossi into it and…”
“You call him Rossi but still won’t call me Hotch?”
“I… I don’t… I’m sorry, Agent Hotch—” The look on his face stopped the words in your throat. His head tilted in a way that seemed stern, his eyebrows raised expectantly, but the quirk of his lips looked playful. Impish, even.
Was he teasing you?
“You’re getting closer,” He smirked. “Just drop the Agent and you’ll be there.”
Yep. He was teasing you.
And now you were blushing so hard you were sure he could feel the heat from there.
You pressed your lips together in a small pout. You weren’t sure what to do with a playful Agent Hotchner, but you couldn’t deny you liked it. Still, being teased by the object of your affection was not something you felt equipped to handle at the moment.
You took a fortifying drink of your cocktail, thinking back on Penelope’s encouraging words. You could do this. He was worth it.
“H-Hotch.”
“There you go. Wasn’t so hard after all.”
You huffed a laugh. “Actually, it was harder than you’d think.”
He ran contemplative eyes over you. “And why’s that?”
You finished off the last of your drink and turned to face him, leaning against the bar. It was your turn to study him. “Surely you know how flustered you make me.”
The corner of his lips turned down. “I had noticed, yes. I know I can be intimidating, but I never wanted to make you uncomfortable.”
“I never said I was uncomfortable.”
His eyes brightened. “Just flustered?”
You hummed. “I know you try not to profile your coworkers, but I’m betting it’s hard to just turn that off. So, what have you noticed about how I act around you versus everyone else?”
He straightened in his seat, bringing his glass to his lips as his eyes stayed focused on you. He took a slow sip before speaking. “You display signs of discomfort and hesitation with me, while you are more open with others, especially Garcia. You only make direct eye contact with me enough to let me know you are acknowledging me, but you often look down or to the side when we speak. You fidget and sometimes stumble over your words. I don’t see you do that with anyone else.”
“And why do you think that is?”
“I assumed it was due to my role as unit chief and the perception that I’m a hardass who never smiles.”
You grinned at that. “Now, we both know that’s not true. I’ve seen you smile countless times.”
His cheeks pinkened and your grin grew. “Yes, well. That doesn’t change the fact that others think I’m incapable of it.”
“It’s their loss then. I happen to like seeing you smile.”
His eyes dropped almost shyly and that was definitely a blush spreading across his face. “I… Thank you.”
You watched in awe as he shifted in his seat, exhibiting all the signs you knew you normally did when he was around. Could it be that he was the one flustered now?
You felt a well of confidence spring up inside you. You felt powerful in a way you never had before. You had somehow managed to affect this stoic man enough to fluster him.
You smirked. “You’re wrong, by the way.”
He blinked. “Wrong?”
”That’s not why I acted that way around you.”
”Oh.”
”Can you guess why?”
“Normally, I would think that you didn’t like me. That I had done something to upset or offend you, but if that were the case, I don’t think you’d still be here talking with me.”
”Correct. I definitely don’t dislike you.” At the tilt of his head, you could tell he still didn’t understand. “If you had seen me act that way towards someone else, what conclusion would your observations lead you to?”
He swallowed. “Normally, such behavior would signify attraction or some depth of feeling towards the other person.”
”Did it really not occur to you that was the case here?”
”Honestly, I didn’t want to get my hopes up. Didn’t want to assume you felt the same way.”
”The same way?”
The corner of his lip quirked up. “Attraction and some depth of feeling.”
You couldn’t keep the pleased smile from brightening your face. “Oh.”
You shyly tucked some hair behind your ear, his eyes following the motion. “Is… is that really how you feel about me?”
He stayed silent for a long moment, his focus firmly on you as if he were contemplating your features like one would fine art. ”Do you know why I kept asking you to call me Hotch?”
The abrupt change of topic threw you and it took a few seconds for you to respond. ”I thought you were just being nice.”
He shook his head with a soft smile. “It was because I hoped you’d feel comfortable enough to call me by my name someday. If I could get you to call me Hotch, then eventually, I might be able to convince you to call me Aaron.”
Your breath caught when he leaned in, his eyes never leaving yours as he quietly spoke words meant only for you. “But what I’d really like, is if someday you’d call me yours.”
You were pretty sure you had stopped breathing and that all the blood in your body was rushing to your face. Surely you didn’t hear that correctly. “W-what?”
He pulled back, his cheeks attractively flushed. “I apologize if I overstepped. I’m a bit rusty at it, but Dave suggested I try flirting. I’ll admit I got a bit nervous and that just came out.”
“Flirting? With me?”
He must have read something in your face because he smirked. “Yes, flirting with you.”
He leaned closer again. “Is it working?”
You’re sure your face is red enough to stop traffic. “Yes,” you managed to squeak out.
“Good.” He ran his hand down your arm, wrapping his fingers around yours and bringing them up to his lips, pressing a barely there kiss to your knuckles. “Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”
“Yes,” you breathed out.
He smiled down at you, dimples on full display and you couldn’t help but smile back.
“Not here, though.” He glanced around the bar. “I wouldn’t put it past Garcia to hack into their network to watch us.”
You chuckled and nodded knowingly. That was exactly what she would do.
He turned to wave down the bartender. “Please put both our drinks on the tab for David Rossi.”
You gaped at him and he shrugged with a grin. “He comes here all the time and he would have paid if he had been here. Besides, it’s the least he can do for plotting with Garcia.”
With a giggle, you conceded. “That’s true.”
He stood from his stool, offering you his hand to help you from yours. “Come on. I know a great Italian place nearby.”
He laced his fingers with yours once you were on your feet and led you out of the restaurant.
“It’s only a few blocks away. Since it’s a nice evening, would you like to walk?”
You nodded and allowed him to guide you down the sidewalk, noting that he took care to walk between you and the street.
You walked in companionable silence for a while before he spoke, his eyes trained ahead. “You know, I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.”
“Really?”
“Since the moment we met.”
You looked at him skeptically. “You mean when I barreled into you and almost knocked you off your feet?”
He grinned down at you. “No almost about it.”
You gasped playfully. “I didn’t make you fall.”
“Sure you did. And all it took was your smile.”
You ducked your head down. “You’re teasing me again.”
“I’m not.” You shot him a leveled look. “Okay, yes, maybe a little. But I’m pretty sure I fell for you the moment you smiled up at me after you finished rambling and were more concerned about me than yourself even though you faceplanted pretty hard. I was worried you might’ve broken something.”
“Hey! I didn’t hit that hard.”
He chuckled, giving your hand a squeeze. “Sorry sweetheart, but you did. I’m surprised there wasn’t an imprint of a button on your face afterward.”
The endearment surprised you but in the most pleasant way. You weren’t sure if it was just a slip of the tongue or a calculated move, but either way, you hoped you’d get to hear it again.
Despite that, you wanted to bury your face—preferably in his chest again, but in a much gentler manner than the last time—to hide your discomfiture. “I’m always so awkward around you. It’s embarrassing.”
“It’s endearing.”
“Oh, stop teasing me. There’s no way you find that even the least bit attractive.”
He stopped and you paused alongside him, looking up at him. His expression was serious but his eyes were soft. “I do. I find everything about you attractive. I think you’re beautiful, especially when you smile. Even more so when you’re blushing. You’re kind and sweet and funny. You might be the most charming woman I’ve ever met.”
You could feel your blush creeping down your neck to your chest. At this rate, you would soon be red from head to toe. “Pretty sure it’s you who’s the charming one.”
His lips lifted in a soft smile as his eyes took in the spreading warmth he always caused. “I’m glad you think so. Makes this easier to ask. I know I should wait until the end of the night but…”
He gently cradled your face in one of his hands, warm even against your flushed cheek. “May I kiss you?”
“Please.”
The hushed word was barely passed your lips before his were there, stealing the last of it for himself.
The kiss was achingly gentle, a soft press of lips that left no doubt as to his burgeoning feelings for you. It was a slow wooing, a tender plea, a solemn promise. A declaration that this was only the beginning of his intentions towards you.
It was a kiss full of hope.
Hope that this was only the first kiss of many, that this was the beginning of something wonderful, that you would accept what he was only too happy to offer. Himself.
You slowly broke apart, both breathing heavily.
That was, by far, the best kiss of your life, and you knew that they would only get better from there if Aaron Hotchner was the one kissing you.
That one kiss had conveyed so much and you needed to let him know that you got it, you understood, and you wanted the same.
“Aaron.” His name came out as a shaky sigh, but it was enough for him to freeze before dropping his forehead to rest against yours.
“Yes,” he asked just as quietly, his voice deep and husky.
“I feel the same.”
You felt him relax against you as he let out a stuttered breath.
“I never thought I’d have the courage to tell you this. You’re the brave one. But I just need you to know how I feel about you.”
You swallowed and met his eyes that were watching you intently.
“I’ve been yours since I crashed into you. You stole a piece of my heart with your kindness that day and I’ve happily given you a little more of it each day since. You make me happy every time I see you, and even though I’m flustered and awkward around you, you make me feel safe. You’re a gentleman, you treat your team like a family, and you’re an amazing dad. And you’re handsome. Like, distractingly good-looking. It’s a problem.”
He chuckled and you were pleased to see a blush brightening his cheeks.
“I like you quite a lot, Aaron Hotchner. And I’d really like it if—if I could call you mine.”
Your answer came with his lips brushing against yours once, twice, before they were insistent in their acquisition of yours.
This kiss was deeper. The celebration of a long-awaited victory that had your toes curling. You lost yourself to it and would have continued to do so were it not for the honking from a passing car.
Aaron gave you one more soft kiss before pulling away, his lips delightfully pink and plump.
“As much as I’d love to carry on, this may not be the best place.”
Despite his words, he pressed a kiss to your cheek and then another to your forehead. You grinned at him and for a moment, he seemed ready to lean right back in.
Instead, his eyes flicked quickly left and right, stopping on something behind you. With a squeeze of the hand that was still holding yours, he guided you to a recessed section of wall that provided a bit more privacy.
He positioned himself in front of you, his free hand coming to rest on your hip. He ducked down to kiss you once more, a tease of his lips that left you wanting more.
“Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”
“Never apologize for that. You can kiss me all you want.”
His grip tightened on your hip. “You called me a gentleman, and yet here you are tempting me to prove otherwise.”
You shrugged with a cheeky smile. “Just being honest.”
“Well, since we are being honest with each other,” he said, the words rumbling in his chest, “I feel I need to let you know that while I plan to do this right and take things slow, there is one important fact you need to know about me.”
“What’s that?”
He leaned in, his breath low in your ear. “When granted the liberty to do so, I’m going to show you just how much I love having cinnamon rolls for breakfast.”
You blinked, the words sinking in. “Cin-cinnamon rolls?”
“They are my favorite, after all.” He hummed as he pressed a kiss beneath your ear. “My little Cinnamon Roll.”
You gasped and pulled back, narrowing your eyes at him. “You heard Pen call me that, didn’t you?”
He chuckled. “Everyone’s heard you call each other Cupcake and Cinnamon Roll. Was it supposed to be a secret?”
“No, I meant that day at the elevator.”
“You mean when I told you I wouldn’t say no to one?”
“You…you did hear us!”
He smirked unrepentantly. “I didn’t mean to overhear, but you weren’t being that quiet. So, I just used it to my advantage.”
You swatted his arm. “I was so embarrassed and you’re saying you were teasing?”
“In my defense, it was Garcia who was the one teasing you. I was flirting.”
You pouted at him. “Everyone’s wrong about you. You’re not a stoic hardass. You’re a menace. All these months pining away for you, all the times I was awkward, and now you tell me you were flirting.”
“If it makes you feel any better, sweetheart, I was pining for you too.”
“It does.” You huffed, only a little begrudgingly.
He chuckled again and dipped down for one last lingering kiss.
You were breathless by the time he pulled back, smiling dazedly when he guided you back onto the sidewalk and resumed your walk to the restaurant.
Despite it having started because of a plot by your friends, your first date with Aaron Hotchner was everything you dreamed it could be. It was romantic, he was charming, and you were finally able to hold a conversation with the man.
It went so well in fact, that you soon had a second date, and then a third, and then a fourth. And after the fifth date, you found out personally that Aaron Hotchner really did enjoy having cinnamon rolls for breakfast.
In fact, he enjoyed it so much, he went back for seconds.
