#touch drabbles

“Are you sure about this? I really don’t mind taking the floor.” 

“Hotch . . .we’re in freaking Alaska. A little extra body heat is not something I’m going to turn down.” The fact that you’d been harboring a crush on the man for years had absolutely no weight in the decision. 

He smiles, “As long as you’re sure. Do you mind if I go ahead and use the bathroom?” 

“Go for it.” 

The moment you hear the shower turn on you start changing. You thank God that you brought your cute pajamas; a nice fitting tee shirt and some silky soft pajama pants. Despite the cold, you can’t bring yourself to wear socks to bed. Instead you pull out the extra fleece blanket you brought and spread it out. 

You spend a few minutes going through your phone, when the door to the bathroom opens, and you’re forced to bite your lip. You’re not used to seeing Hotch in casual clothes, and seeing him in pajamas is an entirely different experience. 

It’s nothing special just a very nice fitting tee-shirt and some flannel pajama pants. He makes a mad dash to the bed and dives under the covers. He looks at you, “It is freezing.” 

“We’re Virginia natives, cold isn’t our forte.” 

He snuggles under the covers, “Isn’t that the truth.” 

You pass the next half hour with chitchat before turning off the lights and hunkering down in bed. You feel unbelievably safe with him right next to you, the scent of his body wash surrounding you, and his body heat at your back. You fall to sleep rather quickly with those factors. 

When you wake up the next morning, you’re toasty warm; and that should be wrong because you’re in Alaska. That’s also when you notice there’s a heavy weight surrounding you. 

Aaron is wrapped around you. One of his legs is slotted in-between yours, one of his arms is wrapped around your middle while the other rests on your clavicle, and his nose is buried in the crook of your neck. 

You shift around a little bit and the weight tightens around you, you hear a murmur, and then a kiss is pressed to the junction between your neck and shoulder.  Your face goes bright red, as you remember who you’re sharing the bed with. 

You should slip out of his arms. You know it. He sought your body heat out in the middle of the night and that’s how you ended up wrapped in his arms. Or maybe it was a dream? Or maybe a dream come true? You snort at that thought, you’re not that lucky. 

The snort is enough to startle Aaron from his sleep. He’s amazingly coherent for just waking up. On morning where Hotch isn’t wrapped around you, you usually need as least two cups of coffee to be functioning. 

He doesn’t jerk away, instead he slowly untangles from around you. He clears his throat as he shifts away and into a sitting position. “Sorry . . .I . . .” 

You sit up too, and wave it off, as you slide out of the warm bed and into the cold air to start grabbing things for your shower. “No big deal. You probably just got cold and sought out warmth. Basic human instinct.” 

He frowns for a minute, before he nods, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“Not at all. It was nice.” You freeze at the word and try to cover, “and warm. And I’ve been cold since I got here, and yeah . . .” Hotch stares at you before tossing the covers to the side. You can feel him studying you like he does an unsub; he’s looking for something. 

Just as he opens his mouth to say something, you dart into the bathroom and lock the door, “I’m going to take my shower. I’ll be ready to head out in ten.” 

There’s a second of silence before he says, “Good. That will give us time to talk about how you liked waking up in my arms.” 

Your mouth drops open, and you go silent, because really, how are you supposed to argue with that?  

“We can also talk about how I liked waking up with you in my arms, and how I’d like to do it again.” 

Bruce is watching you with a small smile on his face from his place next to you in the bed. Dick is cuddled on top of you, with his limbs spread out, and his head nuzzled into the crook of your neck. It’s been a long few days of Dick fighting the flu. It’s the first time he’s been sick since the two of you adopted him, and it had scared you like nothing else in your life. Bruce too. You’d never seen a doctor cower in fear like that. 

Neither of you have left his side. You’ve either laid in bed rubbing his back or sat with him while he emptied his stomach. You’ve also been making sure he doesn’t’ get dehydrated. 

Bruce gently moves to sit next to you, “You want me to take him?” 

You shake your head, “No. He’s finally asleep. Poor thing. I don’t want to wake him.” 

“What about you? You’ve slept even less than he has.” 

You head droops slightly, “I’ll be okay. You’ve gotten as much sleep as I have, and you’re fine. 

“I’m saying we leave, and we don’t look back.” 

Klaus stares at you, that stubborn look in his eye, that says retreat isn’t a word in his vocabulary. You’ve seen it multiple times since you’ve met. And since you started a relationship, it’s been the bane of your existence. 

“Leave New Orleans? Leave our home? I’m building an empire! A kingdom!” 

“We don’t need a kingdom! We have each other. We have Hope!” You walk towards him, and grip his tee-shirt in your hands, “We have a daughter!” 

“Don’t tell me about our daughter!” 

“We almost lost her! The New Orleans coven nearly killed me to get to her. If I hadn’t had that spell, we both would have been dead. You would have been alone again!” 

He pauses at that and you push forward with your argument, “The New Orleans witches have no power outside of the city. They rely on magic provided by their ancestors. If we leave, they can’t come after us. We can stay with Hope. We can raise her, be a family. Hell, we could have more kids.” Tears are streaming down your face now. 

Klaus steps towards you right as Hope starts crying. You go to her, and cradle her to your chest. You bounce her slightly, and apologize for waking her, but you know she’ll be hungry soon enough.

You stare at Klaus, who is watching you with careful eyes. “You need to decide which is more important: our family or power. I know I can’t have everything I want Klaus, but our little family is pretty damn close.” 

He approaches you quickly, and grips your bicep before pulling you and Hope into his arms. One hand settles on your waist, the other on top of yours on Hope’s back. He places a kiss, on the top of your head, “Don’t bother packing. We’ll buy whatever we need when we get where ever we’re going.” 

You sag in relief, and look up at him, “Really?” 

He nods, “Feed our daughter, while I make the arrangements. We’ll leave in an hour.”  You go up on your toes and kiss him with everything you have.

“Thank you.” 

“You know, there’s a party going on downstairs.” His head doesn’t lift from the paperwork in front of him, but his lips twitch. You walk further into the office, stopping right in front of his desk. “There’s balloons, that fancy champagne that you hate, pretentious little finger foods, and a bunch of people looking to talk to you. 

He looks up now, an eyebrow raised, “Are you trying to talk me into go back.” 

You lean forward with your hands braced against the desk, “I’m trying to talk you into staying up here and making out like teenagers.” 

Bruce chuffs, before collapsing back into his seat. You smile, and take a second to remove your heels before padding over to him. You lean down to kiss him, and he pulls you down in the same second so that you’re sitting on his lap. 

“We have got to stop throwing these parties.” 

One of your arms snake around his neck, while the hand of your other settles over his heart, “It’s for a good cause.” 

He snorts, “I saw you running away from those old biddies.” 

“They were asking when we planned to have kids, so I booked it out of there.” 

“Smart woman.” 

You shrug, “One of my endearing qualities.” 

Bruce smirks and places a kiss on your throat, “Oh, you have many of those. Another one, is ditching this place and going to a bar with me.” 

You smirk, and hold out your hand, “Only if I can drive.” 

You’re sitting in-between Bruce’s legs, with your eye closed, just enjoying the feeling. His fingers are moving deftly through your hair, while his focus is fully on his phone; a hair tutorial playing. 

You hear him mutter to himself a few times, before he tugs another piece of hair here and another there. Eventually the movements move away from your scalp, and when he reaches the ends you open your eyes. 

“I think I got it, but it’s not as pretty as in the video.” You hear the camera on his phone go off before he presents it to you. You look at the picture and smile. He’s braided your hair perfectly, but you’re sure he sees at least three imperfections. 

“Do you mind if I do it again? I really want to make sure I have this down.”

You look back at him, and he has his puppy dog eyes out, “Bruce.” 

“Please. I don’t want to embarrass Nadia” His hand reaches around to rest on your protruding belly, and “And with baby girl due in a few days we’re going to have our hands full. I need to know how to do her hair in case you’re asleep or feeding the baby.” 

You wiggle a bit to get comfortable, and say, “You’re a good dad Bruce. Go right ahead.” 

Your entire body hurts. It’s a regrettable side effect of having been shot at close range, and the only reason it isn’t worse is because of the Kevlar protecting your most vital organs. And all you want to do is go back to the hotel, curl up in Aaron’s arms, and sleep until the pain goes away. 

But the unsub, thrashing under you, as you try to cuff him, isn’t making that possible. You hear footsteps, and then there are more hands helping, and you feel someone lift you up from under your arms. You look up at Emily and give her a grateful smile. 

“You okay?” 

“Three shots to the vest. Close range. I probably have a cracked rib. Other than that, I’m okay.” 

She smiles, “Good. Can you go inform your man of that? Strauss held him back and he’s been pacing like a cornered lion ever since.” 

You nod, and start walking that way. With every step a new blurb of pain shoots through you, and then you see him. He’s wearing his vest, and his arms are crossed as he paces. 

Some nights, when Bruce comes home from patrol, when he takes off the suit, his entire body hurts. It comes from years of broken bones, falls, and fighting. You call the causes; the big three. On those nights, he doesn’t say anything. 

He takes off the suit, leaves the boys to finish things up and heads upstairs. He makes sure to shower first, and allow the warm water to get rid of most of the aches. he towel dries his hair, and then slips on his pajama pants. He doesn’t bother with a shirt. 

You’re already asleep when he climbs into bed, but he know you’ll wake up. You always seem to know when he needs you. Sure enough your eyes flutter open the moment he presses a knee onto the mattress. You take one look at him, smile and open your arms. 

You’re wearing a night gown that exposes your chest above your breasts. He crawls to you, and lays his head on the bare skin. You’re warm and you smell like vanilla. 

You don’t say anything. One of your hands lands on his shoulder the other in his hair. You fingers tangle there for a moment before your nails start to gently glide across his scalp. 

He lets outs a little sigh of content, before he tries burrow deeper, repositioning his head to your breasts, where he feels the silk of your nightgown. He stays there for a minute as you switch from scratching his scalp to playing with his hair. 

 Then he moves his head to that his ear rests over your heart. He listens for just a moment, as your other hand moves in-between his shoulder blades, and starts to rub at the knot there. He smiles, as your heart beat reassures him that you’re okay. 

Your lips twitch as Bruce’s fingers glide up your back, guiding the zipper of your dress until it reaches the top. You meet his gaze in the mirror, and he shoots you a wink. 

You remain still as he reaches over you to grab the necklace you’re wearing, his hand settled on your hip for balance. His fingers drag over your clavicles as he drags the chain across your skin, around your neck, and he does the clasp. 

His hands move to your shoulders, and he presses a kiss against your temple. 

“You know, I can dress myself.” 

He grins into a second kiss, before he starts a trail all the way down to your ear. He nips the top of your ear, presses another kiss next to your ear and whispers, “But isn’t it more fun this way.”