Say It (Hotch x Reader)// ✔

Screams and Dreams (Staying friends)

Summary:

You finally have a much-needed talk with Hotch

Notes:

Hey all im back with a v quick chapter that I couldn't figure out where to place with the upcoming chapter that is long-ish.
(Thank you Max & Lorelai for creating a very epic moment that I've always screamed about when I first watched it)

Title from the song by Faye and Sofflee

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"Y/N, could I see you in my office?" You stop at once, and watch Hotch for a brief moment. He waits for acknowledgement you'd heard him before heading then to his office, his go-bag and suitcase in hands. It hadn't been even 20 minutes since you had all been back from a case in Miami – a 2 hour and a half flight wrecking you all.

Emily at your side is preoccupied with Derek over a recent bet they'd made. And Spencer is hovering over his own computer, checking his emails with baby boomer attention. He clicks and taps the keyboard like one too, like he's never used a computer before in his life.

The only person who'd heard that is JJ, who you share a look with.

"What do you think that's about?" She asks, voice low so the others don't meddle yet.

You shrug.

"I bet it's because I walked slouching before busting down the unsub's house", or other stupid small unnecessary thing .

She gives you a smile in sympathy and a tiny thumbs up and you roll your eyes.

You dump your bags over your desk, ignoring the noise that comes with it. And follow him to the office, not caring that you'd made him wait.

You'd been dreading it – talking to him one on one. You'd both had been masters at it. Prime exemplary records in avoidance. Could have written a PhD or two on how to almost talk about your feelings and then erase them completely from the face of the earth, too. And it shouldn't have been that easy as it has been. In the office and in the plane – even in the car there'd always be other people around. And they were the perfect barriers (Hotch would agree so too).

And yet it tugged a bit at you, how he hadn't stopped calling you Y/N since that night on the roof. Not even in front of the team or local police officers. It never crossed his mind to switch and revert to calling you by your surname. It felt unfair that he did it. Like a personal attack, that he could refer to you as he pleased but still pretend everything was normal.

You gather about your wits and knock lightly on his opened door before walking in.

He stands behind his desk, pacing back and forth and looks up. It freaks you out. The sight of him doing anything but not stand calmly and authoritatively is freaky. If you hadn't just witnessed it, you would have wondered if he even knew what pacing was. When he looks into your eyes though, everything comes rushing back – his closeness, his lingering touches that were now inexistent, his smell, face close to yours, and the two times he'd touched your cheeks with reverence. Something unreadable crosses his eyes too at the same time. For a second none of you speak to allow the moment to dissipate on its own. It doesn't. There's small heat rising to your cheeks and neck in response.

"Shut the door" he says next, and you look at him dumbfounded.

"We need to talk and I'd rather not be interrupted"

That just confuses you more, but you follow his order on automatic. He still stands when you approach his desk and you pause. Should you even sit down? You put a hand over the leather chair and he sucks in a breath.