Dinner and Diatribes

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Summary:

First date with Hotch (and more)

Notes:

yes first date at last and my v poor rendition of a fox trot dance - here and more in this chapter
Inspiration from that v sexy scene at the end of Pride and Prejudice (u will see) and from that one episode (2x14) with Hotch and Haley bcs the cameras never panned out to them and i will hate that forever

also title song by Hozier bcs the lyrics are amazing


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Hotch is a perfect gentleman. He is. Starting from showing up at your house one night to ring your doorbell with a big bouquet of tulips in hand – because you'd sent him a text complaining about a hard day at work; to trying incessantly, without ever giving up, on fixing a day for your very first date. Work got on the way, his, yours, even Jessica's (unable to babysit Jack on certain nights). And you'd told him, while laughing on the phone with him, that normal would never exist for you two. But he insists, and that's what you'd expected of him too. Though you would have skipped straight to couch napping (and not only) again if it were up to you. It helped that he also looked the part of those old romantic movies with epic soundtracks. Classic and timeless – that was him. So, you take a half day off, first-time you request one and shoot him a message.

I know you prefer restaurant date, but I've been eating out all week. What would you say for dinner at mine's, made by me?"

And his reply is prompt:

Only if I get to pick what we do afterwards.

You try not to let your mind fly away already to whatever that may be, and the many feelings that sprout up in your stomach. You make the focaccia first, putting it in the oven while you wash vegetables and potatoes to roast them later. Then, you stir and cook some chicken too, seasoning it perfectly. But Hotch arrives earlier that the time you'd told him – not even 40 minutes since your last message. Your doorbell rings and you don't make an effort to clean yourself up or check your reflection first. You just open it, half expecting him to look disheveled and in a tank top, as if he'd ran here. Hotch smiles on the other side, tulips on hand like he' handpicked them from a never-ending secret garden, and his presence, his appearance too – navy button up and dark slacks, looking ruggedly handsome – it all makes your knees buckle. As if sensing it he steps close, his free hand looping around your waist tugging you softly towards him. He places a kiss to the side of your lips, keeping it chaste, and smiles. It takes your breath away.

"You smell heavenly" he grumbles over your ear, hot breath over your earlobe drawing a warm shiver down your spine.

"That's just chicken" you mutter and he presses a soft kiss over your cheek in response. "And you're early"

Your palm is firm over his chest, feeling the quick beating of his heart. All the affectionate texts and calls had been nice but they do not compare to the real thing.

"I thought you could use a sous-chef" he says, smile wide.

"You brought flowers" you say, focusing your attention on the bouquet in his hand, and feeling shy again. He hums, his large hand not leaving your waist as you guide him inside.

"You're spoiling me" you turn sideways just to glance at his reaction.

He shrugs, "Not as you are me" he says, eyes skimming the short dress you're wearing – white silk hugging your figure and reaching just a brush over your knees; and inhaling the smell of bread coming from the kitchen.

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