EVERYBODY STAY CALM! K'S POSTING A FIC! i'm so sorry it's been literal ages oh my god hi guys how are you i hope you're all well here's the fic based on this ask :))
Summary: You've been secretly dating Aaron for almost a year when he decides to agree to a night out with the team. The problem? Once he's a little tipsy, he can't keep his hands off you.
Warnings: so much fluff it's stupid, very very light smut but still mdni 18+ only pls for my sanity, is this considered a crack fic? idk but it's silly and fun, fem!r who shaves her legs + has boobs, reader teases hotch within an inch of his life, and hotch is fighting for his life, hotch is a giggly bumbling drunk send tweet
WC: 5k
By the time Hotch’s keys hit the door, you’ve got dinner in the oven and a glass of wine already pressed to your lips.
By the time his arms wrap around your waist, he’s just Aaron.
“Finish everything?” you ask, setting your glass down and spinning in his arms. You only just saw him at the BAU office two hours ago, but that doesn’t matter. He kisses you like it’s been days.
“I did,” he says. “And you made dinner.”
You snicker, caught. He did say he’d make something tonight, but when he said he needed to stay later than you, you weren’t sure how much later. So you took dinner into your own hands.
Still, he pouts. “It was my turn.”
“Alright,” you shush him. “You can have tomorrow and Thursday. How’s that sound?”
He narrows his eyes at you. “Fine.” He pecks your lips, the playful anger gone. “What are you making, anyway? Smells delicious.”
You tell him the recipe, one of your favorites that you haven’t gotten to make in a while. He hums happily.
“That sounds perfect after today,” he groans, kissing you again. Today meaning a mountain of paperwork that you all had to sift through, and being Unit Chief, he then had to check and sign off on it all.
“Go get changed,” you tell him while loosening his tie. You’re already in your sweatpants and one of his old t-shirts, and you know he’s ready to be out of the suit.
“Did you shower yet?” he asks.
You shake your head, a little smile curling your lips. “After dinner?”
“Please,” he says, bending to kiss you one more time. “What wine are you drinking?”
“The one I bought last week,” you say. “Want a glass?”
“Sure,” he murmurs. “As long as you’re prepared to have me crawling into your lap later.”
“I’m always prepared for that.”
When you kiss this time, it’s simmering. A promise of something for later. Maybe in the shower, but not likely, because every time you’ve tried initiating that, Aaron has promptly scooped you up and taken you to the bedroom.
He leaves you with a kiss to your forehead before going to change. You turn and pull another glass down, pouring his wine. You take a sip of your own as you peer down into the oven to check on dinner.
+++
Dinner and two glasses of wine later and you do, in fact, have a lapful of Aaron Hotchner.
“Babe,” you scold him gently, but it’s through a fit of giggles. He’s half in your lap and half on the couch, simply because his six-foot frame would crush you if he fully climbed into your lap like this. “We’re supposed to be showering!”
He hums, lips pressed to your throat. “In a minute.”
You roll your eyes and run your fingers through his hair. “You’ve had barely two glasses.”
“I know,” he says, words muffled from where he’s buried his face. “I also just missed you.”
“You were alone for two hours!”
He lifts his head only to stare petulantly into your eyes. “Two hours too long.”
“Okay,” you accept defeat and bring him in for a kiss. “Fine, next time I won’t leave early to make you dinner.”
“Exactly,” he says, happy and content. “Because it’s my turn.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you laugh. “Come on, up, we need to shower.”
He groans but stands up all the same, extending his hand toward you. You grab it and he hoists you up and into his arms, giving you no room or time to argue with him.
And your response is always the same. “I can walk perfectly fine” all while wrapping your arms around his neck.
The shower, as it turns out, is mostly uneventful. You’re both too exhausted from the day to even try anything while standing up under hot water. That doesn’t stop you both from making out for a few minutes, though.
Eventually, Aaron steps out to give you space to shave your legs, but he stays in the bathroom, just rambling about the day.
“Oh, and after you left, I forgot to tell you, Penelope cornered me.”
“Oh?” you laugh, lathering the shaving cream. “What did she want?”
“She asked if I was coming out with everyone on Saturday,” he says.
“Oh, yeah,” you nod. “I told her I’d go.”
“Me too.”
You nearly nick yourself as you drop your razor entirely. “What?”
“Dave said he’s going, too, for once,” Aaron continues. “I haven’t in a long time, I figured I’m overdue.”
You wait a beat, trying to figure out what the hell to say. In the end you settle with “Okay.”
Aaron pauses. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s not your nothing voice,” he pauses, and then the curtain moves and he’s poking his head inside the shower. You know what he’s doing, so you deliberately avoid his eyes. “Honey.”
“What!” you reply, still not looking at him.
So he fucking crouches down so he’s in your line of sight.
You glare at him while sliding the razor along your calf. “Not fair.”
“What is wrong with me saying I’d go out on Saturday?” he asks. “I thought you’d be happy.”
“I just,” you pause, running your leg under the water. “Are you sure it’s…a good idea?”
He clearly, despite being a profiler, has no idea what you mean. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
You chuckle, setting your razor aside now that you’re finished. “Aaron,” you sigh. “Light of my life. Love of my life. You had two glasses of wine tonight and ended up in my lap.”
He balks. “But--”
“You just -- and I say this with genuine love because I do love it -- you get very…affectionate when you’re drunk.”
“I wasn’t drunk earlier. I’m not drunk off two glasses of--”
“You’re missing the point on purpose,” you scold him gently, turning the water off.
He steps back and grabs your towel, holding it out for you and wrapping you in it. “I know I can get a little…handsy.”
You snort. That’s one way of putting it. You’re recalling a specific night about a month into your relationship when you decided to stay over at his place. Since you weren’t driving home, it meant you were both drinking wine with dinner, and it took no time at all for your clothes to come off and Aaron’s lips to end up on your nipples -- after two small glasses each.
“And I don’t mind it when you get handsy, I love it actually,” you remind him. “But that’s when we’re home. This would be out in public. With the team.”
The two of you have kept things private for many reasons. One being that the team is nosy as hell, and the other being that you just simply wanted this to be your little secret for a while. So, you’ve kept things professional at work -- not that you won’t once the team eventually knows. You still drive separately to the office, you never arrive or leave at the exact same time, and you never stay in the same room when you’re out on cases, despite living in the same house in Virginia.
And clearly, it’s working. It’s working so well that -- bless her -- Penelope tried to set you up on a blind date with one of Morgan’s friends a few weeks ago.
It has been a delicate balance but one that you and Aaron seem to have perfected. Aaron says Dave is suspicious, but Aaron denies it every time. (But you both know that’s as good as confirmation in Rossi’s eyes, you just ignore it.)
You’re almost certain that they will know something is up if you both go out for drinks. Because, based on his track record, Aaron can’t exactly keep his hands to himself after some alcohol has hit his system.
He smooths his hands down your arms. “Are you worried about the team knowing?”
You shake your head, turning to face him, smiling. “No. I’m not.” You pause, deciding you might as well tease him while you’re at it. “I just don’t want you to do something to embarrass yourself.”
His mouth falls open a little in shock before he realizes what you’re doing. “I can keep my hands to myself. I’m a grown adult, you know.”
“Never said you weren’t,” you grin, loving the way he rolls his eyes and pulls you in for a bruising kiss.
+++
So, it becomes a little bit of a game.
One of you brings it up to the other almost every day until Saturday, each time placing a bet on how many drinks it’ll take and what exactly Aaron will do to “out” the two of you.
“I think you’ll be so struck by how much you love me that you’ll just kiss me without thinking,” you giggle, your head resting on his bare chest in the afterglow.
“Very likely,” he agrees. “Because I do that already.”
“I think you won’t though,” you reply seriously. “I think you’ll be too focused on not being handsy that you’ll overcompensate.”
He laughs. “Like what?”
“Like…ignoring me all night so they start wondering if you actually hate me.”
He laughs again, the sound rumbling in your ear, but when he speaks it’s obvious he found nothing funny about that prediction, even if it’s all in good fun. “I could never do that to you.”
“I know,” you murmur, letting your eyes slip closed. “What do we do if the team finds out? Like actually, what’s our plan?”
He shifts, tucking you further into his chest. “Just the truth,” he whispers. “I don’t care if they know. I’d actually like to sleep in the same bed when we’re out on cases, you know.”
“Yeah,” you smile. “Me too.”
+++
By the time Saturday’s late afternoon rolls around, you’re kissing Aaron goodbye to head over to Pen’s, your duffle bag full of your makeup and your outfit for tonight (that you won’t let him see) sitting at the door.
“Already?” he asks, frowning, holding onto you where you bend over to kiss him.
“Yes,” you laugh, running your fingers through his hair. “I told you I was getting ready with the girls!”
“Why can’t you just get ready here?” he asks. “We can show up together, tell them right away.”
“Aaron,” you scold playfully, knowing he’s also not being entirely serious. “You’re being so dramatic already and you’re sober.”
“I know,” he grins, reaching for you again. “Have fun. See you later.”
“See you later,” you kiss him lovingly.
Just as you’re about to pull away, he stops you, his hand tugging yours. “Hey.”
You turn back to him, knowing you’ll be late and not caring. “Yeah?”
“If they don’t find out tonight from me being…handsy,” he chuckles, just a bit sheepish. “I want to tell them anyway.”
You slide down to sit next to him on the couch. “Me too.” You cup his face, waiting for the right moment. “But I still want to see you try to control yourself tonight.”
He rolls his eyes. “I’ll be fine!”
“Mhm, just don’t drink any wine,” you tease, leaning in for one last quick kiss.
+++
Emily and JJ are already at Pen’s when you arrive, everyone welcoming you with smiles and open arms.
“The party can finally begin!” Pen squeals.
Music plays (not blasts, for once) through Pen’s speakers while you all eat lunch and gossip. You hear about the (disgustingly) cute conversation JJ had with Will the other day about their anniversary plans, and how vague he tried to be but she saw right through him. You hear about Emily’s cat and all the chaos he gets up to when she’s away, and how she swears he thinks he owns the place because of how often she’s gone. Pen talks about what movies her and Derek watched the other night, absolutely abysmal ones from the 80s that she insisted on showing him just to see his reactions.
And then they get to you.
“Yeah, what have you been up to?” Emily grins.
“And don’t say all work and no play,” JJ says with a fond eye roll.
“There’s gotta be something!” Pen agrees, lovingly shaking your shoulder. “Or someone…”
“Okay, okay,” you laugh, remembering Aaron’s words from earlier. It’s been long enough. You won’t outright deny it, but you’re not exactly going to drop the bomb on them right now. That would ruin the fun of tonight. “There might be someone-- I said might!”
“Ohhh, but your face said definitely.” Pen is beside herself, grinning and giggling. “Who is it? When did it start? Is it serious?”
“One question at a time,” you groan. Then, you smile just a little, the one you always get from thinking about Aaron for more than a moment, “It’s a secret, it’s been a while, and…yeah, I think so. I’d say it’s pretty serious.”
Emily’s jaw drops open. “Why haven’t you said anything?”
“You’ve been holding out on vital gossip!” JJ clutches a pillow to her chest.
“Honestly, I wanted to see how long I could keep it a secret,” you admit. “I was surprised none of you said anything.”
“Oh, I had my suspicions,” Pen says. “Especially after that blind date fiasco, which I am still so sorry about by the way.”
“No, it was sweet!” you assure her. “But I am already happily dating someone else.”
“Can we see a picture at least?” Emily presses.
You shake your head, hoping you come across as shy and not mischievous. “Maybe I’ll bring him to one of our outings one night.”
“You better!” Pen says.
You feel lighter somehow, just from telling them very vaguely about Aaron. It’s a bit comical how they still don’t suspect a thing, but you’re certain they’ll figure it out for sure tonight, especially if it goes how you’re expecting it will.
Soon, the four of you are getting ready, and they can’t stop talking about how you were holding this information back from them.
You’re doing your makeup and trying not to wear such an evil grin, but it’s hard not to. Your phone buzzes with a text from Aaron, his name just A❤️.
Heading over to Dave’s. See you in about an hour?
You love him dearly. And you can tell he’s clearly not handling this well already.
We’re getting ready and then we’ll be on our way. Feeling in control still?
Ha ha. Yes. I’ll be fine.
You roll your eyes and set your phone down. You give him one glass of whiskey before he forgets to keep it together.
+++
Aaron and Dave are the first to arrive, to no one’s surprise. They both order a glass of whiskey and hold down two stools at the bar.
“So…” Dave begins, and Aaron already knows where this one is going. “You two still keeping it a secret?”
After his earlier conversation with you, Aaron guesses there’s no harm in giving in and telling Dave the truth. Especially when he seems to already know it. “Maybe,” Aaron chuckles. “We’ve decided we’re going to tell the team.”
Rossi smirks around his glass. “Finally.”
Aaron rolls his eyes. “You can save the ‘I called it’ expression for another day.”
“I won’t, because I called it the first time you looked at her.”
Aaron gives his friend a look of expert incredulity, one he isn’t faking. “There was nothing between us back then.” Not on your first day at the BAU. That was Hotch’s first time ever meeting you. Strauss had done your interview.
“Not yet,” Dave says. “But I saw it.”
Aaron really doesn’t believe him, but he’s not going to argue about it. “Right, well, anyway, we’re not saying anything tonight.”
Dave raises an eyebrow. “You’re not?”
“No, tonight, she uh…” Aaron pauses to laugh. “She wants to see if I can keep my hands to myself. Which I can, for the record.”
“Oh yeah, you sound very convincing.”
“You know me, Dave, I won’t…” Aaron shakes his head, refusing to elaborate, but Rossi gets the gist.
“I don’t think that’s what she means,” he laughs. “You do know she probably means refraining from standing right next to her and putting your arm around her?”
A look of horror crosses Aaron’s face so fast that Rossi barks out another laugh.
“You, my friend, are in trouble,” Dave says, flagging down the bartender for another round.
Aaron really shouldn’t have more whiskey considering you and the girls haven’t even arrived yet, but he sort of feels like he needs it. He has no idea why it didn’t cross his mind that he won’t even be able to sneakily hold your hand -- how would he even hide that in a space like this? -- but now he feels like he’s in for a night of torture.
And when he sees you walk in, he realizes just how true that is.
+++
Okay, so maybe it was a cruel move on your part to wear the shirt that Aaron has complimented you in many times -- specifically the shirt that never stays on for more than a minute the second you get home -- but you couldn’t resist.
You and the girls intercepted Derek and Reid outside, so you all walk in together, nearly falling over with laughter when you see Hotch and Rossi already at the bar.
“We should’ve known Mom and Dad would be here so early,” Morgan jokes.
“Who’s who in this situation?” Emily asks.
You all share a look. “Do we even need to say?”
“Yes?” Reid pipes up. “For me?”
You pull him into a sideways hug and explain the joke as you all walk to the bar.
“First round is on me,” Dave promises, tipping his glass in a cheers motion.
“You’re so kind,” you chuckle. “First, second glasses?”
“Second,” Hotch answers quietly, but you didn’t need him to say. His eyes have that certain fire in them that he only gets when he drinks whiskey, and his jaw already has that certain tension to it that he gets when he’s trying to hold himself back.
And you just walked in. So this should be fun.
You all order your drinks and wait patiently, conversation flowing easily. You’re forever grateful that this team gets along as well as you do, because you spend so many hours together that it would be a nightmare if you didn’t like one another.
Hotch and Rossi stay seated at the bar for the most part, and you can’t help but wonder if Aaron’s reasoning is because he can have his back toward you. He’s gripping the bartop like it’ll save him.
The first round goes down fast and then a second is ordered, and the fun really begins.
“We are dancing tonight!” Penelope shouts. “I don’t want to hear any excuses!”
“You’ll never hear any from me, baby,” Derek grins. “Let’s go.”
You laugh as they head to the open space where a few other couples are already dancing (well, more like grinding) with one another. You stay at the bar with everyone else, deciding to be just a little bit of a menace and start up a conversation with Hotch.
You walk around to his side, so when he turns to look at you, his back is to everyone else.
“So…” you smirk, leaning your elbows onto the bar. “Come here often?”
Rossi’s eyebrows raise sky-high and the girls laugh loudly.
“Come on, Hotch!” you goad. “Loosen up a little!”
He gives you a heated glare that you’re thankful only you can see. It is a bit of an issue that you catch yourself having to school your features, though. The look in his eyes is enough to make your knees feel weak.
“You’re not playing fair,” he says, his voice low enough that only you can hear it.
You feign innocence. “What are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
You smile and laugh, acting like he’s just told you the best joke ever. “You’ve got to come out with us some more!”
You turn and waltz back over to the girls, rolling your eyes at them as you do.
“One day he’ll lighten up,” JJ jokes.
“Not today,” Emily mutters. “Do you see his face?”
“He doesn’t appreciate my humor,” you sigh wistfully, cracking a smile and looking over at Pen and Derek. “Should we join them?”
“Absolutely!”
“Reid, come on!”
“No, I’m--” He barely gets the words out before you and JJ are grabbing an arm, asking him for just one dance. He relents, but only with the promise that he can leave in the next thirty minutes.
It’s a mess and not at all coordinated while you all hold your drinks, but it’s fun nonetheless. A type of fun that you don’t normally get to experience together unless you plan nights like these. And honestly, it’s rare that nights like these even get to happen. You’re usually called out on a case days before.
Part of you wishes the team already knew about you and Hotch, or that you and Aaron weren’t playing this little game right now, because you want nothing more than to wave him over. You wish you could have him right here, his hands on your waist, smiling down at you as you sway in the dim lighting.
Instead, you feel his eyes burning into you from the bar. You know he’s looking before you even glance over to see what he and Rossi are up to. Rossi is looking at his phone, and Aaron is looking at you.
It’s a miracle no one else sees it, but it’s only because they’re all so focused on dancing with one another, and especially with keeping Reid there for a few more moments of fun.
The song ends and with it you focus back on everyone else and not on Hotch. The last thing you want to do is be the one to give it all away.
“Let’s steal that booth!” Emily shouts over the next song, nodding to the newly empty one.
You turn and wave Rossi and Hotch over, pointing to the empty booth that everyone is flocking to.
Everyone piles in and you’re on the very end. There isn’t any space for Rossi and Hotch to sit, but they’ve been sitting this whole time, and you can’t imagine Reid is staying for much longer. Pen and Derek probably won’t sit still for more than a few minutes.
Rossi stands on the other side next to Morgan, leaving your side open for Aaron. Dave has a knowing smirk on his lips, too, which just tells you he absolutely knows and has known for longer than you or Aaron will probably want to admit.
Aaron stands just a little too close to you, but in all fairness, him and Rossi are standing in the middle of the walkway. And it’s loud.
And you’re running out of excuses and reasons why you don’t want to throw caution to the wind and pull him down into your lap.
Another round of drinks is brought to the table, courtesy of Rossi, and everything starts to get that warm fuzzy feeling to it. You catch yourself wanting to lean into Aaron and you tense, hoping no one sees it or reads into it.
Aaron’s only saving grace truly is that he is drinking whiskey tonight and not wine. You know for a fact if it was wine that he’d have his head nuzzled in your neck right now, but instead he’s showing remarkable restraint, standing next to you and nursing his glass.
Reid does escape after a while, his social battery officially drained for the night. Derek ruffles his hair as he leaves, and Rossi takes his seat in the booth. Aaron stays standing, his feet cemented in the space next to you. Rossi offers to let Aaron sit instead, but he declines, and that is when you see the first eyebrow raise of the night from the girls.
Except they think you’re seeing someone else entirely, so the look comes off as more of a warning than anything else.
As the drinks and conversation flow, you can feel Aaron inching closer and closer, and when you crane your neck to look up at him, you see it.
He’s gone.
He meets your eyes and you smile softly while a huge grin breaks out on his face.
It isn’t long before you feel a hand on your shoulder mid-conversation, and then his waist pressing closer to you so you can lean your head against his torso. It’s such a quiet, domestic display of affection that it takes a moment for JJ, Emily, and Penelope to notice, but once they do--
JJ’s eyes go wide and she elbows Emily whose jaw drops open. Penelope starts to grin and then Morgan blurts, “What the--”
“No comment,” you interrupt, your hand resting over Aaron’s on your shoulder while he has an entirely different conversation with Dave. “Not until he’s sober, at least.”
The shock stays on everyone’s faces as they try to move on, but you can practically hear their burning questions trying to claw their way up their throats.
Especially when Aaron steps even closer somehow, and you turn to kiss his hand automatically. Aaron responds by dropping a kiss to the top of your head.
“Okay,” Morgan nearly shouts. “You can’t just--”
“Aaand we should go home,” you say, patting Aaron’s hand. “Come on.”
“Home!” Pen does shout. “She said home!”
“You can’t just leave and not tell us anything!” Emily argues.
“Oh, but I am,” you laugh, standing up and melting as Aaron’s arm immediately secures its place around your waist. He drops a kiss to your head without warning and you think Morgan is going to puke. “Alright, alright,” you look up at your very loving and very tipsy boyfriend. “Let’s go.”
“See you on Monday,” he says to the team, offering a wave with the free hand that doesn’t have a death grip on your waist.
“See you guys,” you smile, trying not to laugh too hard at him and how relaxed he’s acting.
As you’re walking him toward the door, digging for your phone to call an Uber, he leans down to whisper too loud in your ear, “Should we tell them about us?”
“Oh, honey,” you laugh, “I think they know now.”
Despite the fact that the PDA was very tame as far as PDA goes, you still have a flurry of text messages from the girls by the time you and Aaron get home. You barely have a chance to look at them, though, before he’s backing you into a wall and lifting you, wrapping your legs around his hips.
“Can’t believe you wore that shirt tonight,” he says in between breaths, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. “Why did you do that to me?”
“Because,” you giggle, but it breaks off into a moan when he goes for your neck. “I liked watching you squirm.”
“I think you’re the one who’s about to squirm.”
You pull him back with a hand in his hair and a smirk on your lips. “Promise?”
+++
Aaron didn’t have near enough alcohol in his system to black out and forget last night, but he doesn’t exactly remember right away, either.
“Good morning, sunshine,” you smile, running your fingers through his hair. He, unsurprisingly, ended up falling asleep with his head on your chest, right on your boobs. “Sleep well?”
He hums contentedly from his spot, seeming reluctant to move his head, but he does, if only to steal a kiss. “Did you?”
“I did,” you hum. “How’s your head?”
His eyebrows scrunch together. “Fine? Why?”
“No reason,” you giggle. “Just curious, considering you smacked it pretty hard on the headboard last night.”
He lifts his head from your chest, clearly assuming that you’re messing with him, and then it comes flooding back.
Stumbling just a little as you walked him outside to order an Uber. Do you think they think we’re dating? Your little laugh as you, politely, said, no, babe, you hid it really well. Until the end.
And then, giggling in the back of the Uber, like the two of you were getting away with something. As if you didn’t touch each other even in the most domestic ways at the bar with the team, as if the team didn’t catch on immediately.
Giggling even as you both fumbled your way inside, and then the heat flooding his body, finally having you alone. Lifting you into his arms, right there against the wall, grinding into you.
He sifts further through the memories, trying to recall what you’re talking about. He can expect some slanted picture frames in the hall from the way he stumbled as he carried you to the bedroom. It’s a miracle nothing broke.
He tossed you onto the bed, took way too long getting his belt off and then his pants, but left his shirt. You weren’t taking anything off, just propped yourself up on the pillows, watching him and giggling. You weren’t sober either, but he had considerably more than you, and was clearly feeling it more.
He remembers it now, your laughter in between words. Honey. Aaron. You’re too drunk. And his, admittedly unconvincing reply, I’m sober enough, c’mon.
Except he wasn’t. He crawled up the bed to hover over you and completely overshot, ramming his head right into the wooden headboard. He cursed and nearly fell on top of you, all while you were still laughing at him and asking him if he was okay.
He remembers grumbling into your neck I’m fine but you’re being mean which only earned him some more of your giggles.
Aaron raises his fingers to the top of his head now, pressing on the tender skin there. “Oh my god,” he laughs, burying his face back in your chest. “I’m sorry, honey.”
“Don’t be,” you murmur, gently scratching his head, careful of where he hit it. “It was really cute. And hot. You were really hard.”
He groans, shifting on the bed. “Don’t say that.”
“Why?” you tease. “You were so affectionate. Despite not knowing how to work your limbs.”
He kisses you just to shut you up. It works. “We can never talk about this again.”
“Too late,” you grin. “You haven’t even looked at your phone yet.”
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