For The Record [HotchxReader]

(6) late night bath

note: partially inspired by the song "Lift" by Radiohead.

Leaning over to Hotch, you whisper: "Wanna get out of here?"

"I'd love to." He whispers back.

He finishes his beer and raises his voice: "I'm heading out."

"Aw, man!" Morgan whines.

"My face hurts, I need to go to sleep." Hotch replies.

Emily smiles at him understanding: "Alright Hotch, see you tomorrow on the jet."

"How will you get to the hotel?" JJ asks worried.

Hotch's keeps his face emotionless and nods towards you: "She kindly volunteered to drive me."

"Of course she did." Reid mutters under his breath.

You shoot him a warning look. He just stares back at you.

"Good night, guys." You get up and smile at Dana.

While you leave with Hotch, you hear her ask Emily: "Do you listen to girl in red?"

You get into the SUV and start to drive to the hotel.

"What did Reid say?" Hotch asks, still using his work-voice.

You clear your throat: "He said Of course she did."

"Why would he say that?" He furrows his brows.

"Because he suspects us sleeping together."

Hotch sighs.

"I don't think he will say anything. He just wants to know cause I'm his friend." You add.

"I hope so, I really don't want to have that conversation with him; or the director, for that matter."

"Hmh." You comment. "Do you think it could get us in serious trouble?"

His eyes are still glued to the outside, New York passing by: "I don't know. It's not explicitly

forbidden, but..."

"Yeah." You breathe out.

This time, you were lucky enough to 'being forced' to share a room with Hotch.

"How do you feel?" You ask Hotch, who is sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Better than when I was strapped to that chair."

Tears start to fill your eyes. It was easy to ignore what happed today while you had to work,

and later being at the bar. But now...

You quickly change into sweatpants and sit down behind Hotch. Putting your arms around his

chest, you close the gap between his back and your chest. You lay your chin on his shoulder.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not now." He buries his cheek in your hair.

You kiss his neck: "Alright, but I'll hold you to that."

He laughs: "I expected nothing else."

ɤɤɤɤ ɤɤɤɤ ɤɤɤɤ

Hotch is sitting in the bathtub the hotel bathroom blessed you with. You sit next to it, arm

on the brim, head on top of your arm. Your left hand dangles in the water, touching his knee

now and then.

In the bright, white bathroom you can actually see his face, his wounds. There are already

forming bruises on his cheek. His eyebrow has a cut in it.

"I'm still very angry at Barr." You tell him.

Hotch smiles at you, grabbing your hand: "I gathered that when you emptied your magazine

into his chest."

"Yeah, that was unnecessary, sorry."

"He pointed a gun at two federal agents, with the clear attempt to shoot. I would have probably

the same."

You rub your face: "Okay. Let's not talk about that while I enjoy looking at my naked boyfriend

in the bathtub."

"Fine by me." Hotch smiles and caresses your cheek.

The look in his eyes scares you a little. You really don't want to fuck this up.

You start to run your fingers up and down his chest, all the way to his neck.

Tracing his collarbone and muscles until he relaxes, you look at him.

You give him a smile and lay your head back on your arm.

Hotch swallows hard. You let your hand sink.

"Where have you been?" He asks quietly.

You raise your head, your heart pounding faster: "What do you mean, Aaron?"

"It feels like I have been waiting for you." He looks down on his hands.

You gasp, taken off guard by his words.

"Well, the first time you got married, I was probably in middle school." You jokingly tell him.

He lets out a small chuckle.

You grab his hand: "But I got here as fast as I could."