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an-angels-fury · 3 months

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Two Men in Love

Hey people! Guess who came back with a fresh new Caspeter fanfic?! 😘

A big thanks for @eds-gryff for making 👉 THIS AMAZING, BEAUTIFUL VIDEO 👈 that inspired me to write this piece (that with some luck will receive like... 5 notes or something like that).

I'm really considering to start posting my fics on AO3. Who knows...

Anyway, good reading! 🫶

P.S.: A friendly reminder that English is not my first language, so don't fuck me up, okay?

P.S. 2: The fic's title comes from the song of same name by "The Irrepressibles" (THIS IS THE CASPETER ANTHEM I WON'T ACCEPT CRITICISM! 👌)

P.S. 3: The photos and quotes used on the aesthetic were all found on Pinterest, but the edit was made BY ME. DON'T FUCKING REPOST IT!!! 😡

The afternoon sun was already reaching its peak when Peter took the same usual route back home. He had left early in the morning to travel the long distance to the small village where he cared for his patients. The start of the day had been peaceful and, luckily, no particularly serious medical cases had to be dealt with, just minor incidents such as a 7-year-old girl with a broken ankle after falling from a tree, a lumberjack with a dislocated shoulder and an old fisherman who had some difficulty breathing - a problem definitely related to his advanced age and his addiction to smoking. Unfortunately, no matter how many times Peter warned him about the consequences of excessive cigarette use, it was a harmful habit that the old, stubborn man was not willing to give up.

The doctor was climbing the hill, coat and suitcase in each hand, admiring the green, undulating mounds that decorated the landscape that was beginning to form before his eyes. He couldn't imagine choosing a better place to spend the rest of his life - well, actually there was another place, but it was the only place he already knew he could never return to. For a moment, Peter found himself downcast, the weight of melancholy taking over his chest. It was a feeling he was already familiar with, although it became less constant with each passing year. A king could leave Narnia, but Narnia would never leave him as long as he lived. He was absolutely sure of that.

A loud noise woke him from his cloud of thoughts, and suddenly the bittersweet feeling in his heart disappeared. A dog with yellow fur and big ears came running towards him, barking at the top of his lungs, and the blond man didn't hesitate to drop his things and opened his arms to welcome him. When he least noticed, Peter found himself flung to the ground, laughing like a child as the animal on top of him licked his face, wagging the tail happily. When the dog calmed down from his euphoric state and allowed the poor man to recover, Peter sat down on the grass and scratched the animal's head right behind the ears - exactly in his favorite spot.

- I missed you too, big boy - he said with a big smile on his face.

That sweet moment was interrupted by a whistle coming from not far away. The dog turned his head and remained quiet for a moment, just looking towards the supposed place where the sound had come from. Soon after, a man's voice was heard, calling him by the name. Peter would recognize that beautiful voice from any corner of the world.

- Rhidon!

The animal didn't blink before barking and running away again. Without rushing, Peter got up and walked a few more meters until he finally saw the small cottage that, a few years ago, had become his new home. In front of the door, there was a very happy Caspian carrying Rhidon in his arms as if he were a giant baby. Peter couldn't help but laugh at such an adorable scene. The dark-haired man smiled back at him and made room for him to come in.

- I hope you're hungry. - Caspian said.

- Starving. - Peter joked.

The smell of fresh bread coming from the kitchen reached his nostrils, which quickly remind him that there were still some sweets and baked goods left in the special basket the baker's wife had given him in thanks for taking care of their sick son. Peter sat down at the table and allowed Caspian to serve him.

- Bon appétit. - Caspian placed the plate in front of his companion and leaned over to give him a little smootch.

The young telmarine had no cooking skills when he arrived in England, which was expected of a prince who spent most of his life being served by others around him. Fortunately, because he was a curious person and fascinated with everything that was different and unknown to him - one of the many reasons why Peter had fallen in love with him -, Caspian was quite willing to learn, especially having Susan and Lucy to help him. Although neither of the two boys were masters in the art of cooking, they loved creating new recipes and dishes whenever they had the opportunity. It was one of their favorite pastimes.

The cottage in which they lived was a simple but no less charming place. The walls were painted a beige tone and the windows were adorned with white shutters and small pots of wildflowers outside. It was possible to hear the slight creaking of the boards when walking on the wooden floor, but this was never considered a nuisance for any of the residents - on the contrary, it was considered a relaxing and even inviting sound for both. In the living room, there was a couch and an old armchair where the boys usually sat at the end of the day to relax in front of the cozy heat of the fireplace.

The location of the house couldn't be more perfect either. The cottage was built in a rural area, surrounded by nature and relatively far from any sign of human life. On the other hand, the place still had a considerable distance between the village where Peter always worked - and where he and Caspian went twice a week to buy the supplies and food necessary for their daily lives - and Professor Kirke's mansion, who had become a great friend, confidant and tutor for the two young people since their last adventure in Narnia. He was responsible for helping the Pevensie siblings teach Caspian everything about their reality - he still remembered fondly from time to time of the prince's shocked expression after finding out they all lived in a round world! -, as well as being Peter's greatest guide during his journey to build his career in medicine. The couple made frequent visits to the master's house, where they also met up with Lucy and Edmund - and sometimes Susan as well - to spend the afternoon drinking tea with cookies, telling stories and even plotting little pranks to make fun of the Professor’s poor housekeeper Mrs. McCready, who had already grown new strands of gray hair since the last time they were there. Sometimes it was as if they had never stopped being children.

But the best part of it all was that Peter and Caspian no longer had to worry about hiding their love. They could court, exchange passionate kisses, walk across the field hand in hand, rest their heads on each other's shoulders, lie embraced in the meadow in the sunlight. They were free to express all the affection and intimacy that other lovers shared when were together.

The two sat at the table without saying a word for most of the meal, just exchanging shy smiles and affectionate looks. Even after all these years, they still felt and acted like two teenagers in love.

- And you? Aren't you going to eat? - Peter asked, noticing that Caspian hadn't picked up a plate for himself.

- I had already eaten before you arrived. - Caspian explained - You came back early today. How was your afternoon, doctor?

The blond one smiled at the other man's playful tone and moved his hand towards his, interlacing their fingers. From there, Peter began to tell a little about the patients he had seen that day. The two continued talking for a while until, a few minutes later, they got up and went to the couch in the living room. Peter decided to take a new book from the shelf to start reading - one of those lent by Professor Kirke -, while Caspian allowed him to lie down on his lap and just stayed there, running his fingers through his lover's golden hair and carefully watching the change in his expressions as he flip through the pages of the book in his hands.

Caspian recalled that one of the things that surprised him most when meeting Peter was seeing with his own eyes who the man behind the legend was. From idealization to disappointment to acceptance and, finally, to love, he reached a point where he realized that Peter Pevensie - the flawed, vulnerable being who was willing to carry all the burdens of the world alone for the protection of those he loved most, even that this meant putting his own pain aside and suffering in silence - was much more fascinating than the heroic and majestic figure of "The High King Peter the Magnificent'' that he had learned to adore and idolize since he was a child. He felt honored to be one of the few people to know details—intimate secrets—that couldn't be found in any dusty old history book: like the way Peter's shoulders relaxed when he lay awake at night, incapable of surrendering to sleep, sitting against the window frame watching the stars; the unique and special glow that lit up in his smile whenever Lucy was with him; all the wonderful sounds that escaped his mouth when Caspian touched and kissed him in all the right places every time they made love.

Every touch, every gesture, every perfect imperfection made Peter, his husband - perhaps not officially recognized by the law of men, or even in the eyes of God, but real to them and their dear ones - the extraordinary man he loved so so much. And Caspian hoped he had the rest of their lives to show him that.

After a while, Peter got tired of reading and, in one quick movement, closed the cover of the book and sat down. Curious, Caspian remained quiet, looking at the other man, who soon spoke with a voice full of enthusiasm:

- Let's go outside!

Before he had a chance to react, Peter was already pulling him off the couch and guiding him to the front door. It didn't take a second for Rhidon, who was previously asleep on the floor, to wake up to his owners' excitement and quickly follow them. The three of them ran out into the open air, their messy hair flying in the wind and barefoot, feeling the earth, the fallen leaves and the dew on the green grass under the soles of their feet. At that moment, they were not gentlemen of English society, nor soldiers rebuilding their lives in a chaotic world ravaged by war, much less kings of a land full of talking animals and magical creatures. They were just two happy, carefree boys with indomitable spirits and fire in their hearts. They knew they had everything they needed.

When they were both exhausted and out of breath, Peter and Caspian lay down together and watched the way the setting sun painted the sky in strong shades of orange, pink and red. Well, just Caspian, actually. Peter had all his attention focused on the young telmarine's face. The former prince's beauty never went unnoticed in his eyes, even at a time when he still believed to despise him with every fiber of his being. Honestly, the fact that the High King felt so captivated by those piercing black pupils, that tanned skin, those long dark locks that fell over Caspian's broad shoulders in beautiful waves only served to make him even more annoyed with the other’s mere presence.

Not that this was the first time a man had made Peter feel this way. Apparently, romantic relationships between people of the same gender had always been seen as something natural in Narnia, which surprised him at first, considering the fact that he was raised in a world where such an attitude was seen as something abnormal and, at worst, a crime. He remembered the few occasions he had got the attention of some members of the court and messengers from neighboring kingdoms during his and his siblings' reign. There were times when he corresponded and even took the attraction game further. But none of his suitors had ever made Peter feel what he felt when he was with Caspian. And at first, it terrified him. It did because, even after so many years, he still heard voices whispering in his mind, calling him cursed names.

Sick. Unclean. Aberration. Sinner.

But with Caspian, something changed. Those aggressive words began to lose their force. All it took was the sweetness of his smile or hearing him call Peter’s name and suddenly, all the noise inside him was reduced to the purest silence. Now, he could hold Caspian's hand without feeling dirty. He could say "I love you" in its truest meaning without feeling the weight of guilt taking over his heart. He finally allowed himself to feel pleasure, not shame, in being hugged, kissed, touched and, above all, loved by his partner.

You love him and he loves you. You are happy. You are not hurting anyone. There is nothing wrong with that.

You are not broken. You don't need fixing.

Peter stayed like this, lying on the taller man's shoulder, admiring the calm and dreamy expression on his face.

- That's what I love most. - Caspian broke the silence, his voice calm.

- What?

- Moments like this, where we can be alone. Just you and me.

And then came the smile. That damn stupid, charming smile that always made a warm blush rise to his cheeks. And there was only one thing Peter could - and desperately needed - to do about it. He propped himself up on both elbows, held Caspian's face between his hands and pressed his lips against his, giving him a long, slow, fervent kiss.

That's what made Caspian so beautiful, the blond man told himself: it wasn't just his physical beauty, but all the color and beauty he brought to Peter's world. And he had no words to describe the extent of his gratitude for having this wonderful human being by his side.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The night was calm. The only sounds in the room were the continuous music playing on the radio station and a gentle breeze that blew against the glass of the closed windows. Even after they had already eaten dinner, Peter returned to sit at the table in the kitchen to pay attention to issues related to his work. He was analyzing some notes he had written over the last few weeks related to the project of a new clinic. For a long time, Peter saw medicine as a chance to wash his soul of all the blood he had shed in his former existence, to use his hands to heal and save lives instead of taking them. He wanted to prove to himself that he could be much more than a weapon, an instrument for violence and death. And in the end, he succeeded. But he wanted it to be just the beginning of an even bigger plan.

The young man was so deep in his thoughts that he almost jumped out of his chair when he heard the clinking of the saucer being placed on the table. Peter soon felt the hot steam from the teacup being blown into his face.

- To keep you awake. - Caspian's gentle voice reached his ears.

- I'm not that tired. - Peter replied without looking up from the papers - You know, you don't need to pamper me all the time. I'm already grown up.

Caspian just snorted at his husband's typical petulance. It was a silly behavior he was already quite used to.

- But that's how our relationship works: you take care of everyone. And I - he paused his sentence to approach and kiss Peter's left cheek and only then completed - I take care of you. So, accept this at once and stop complaining.

All Peter did was roll his eyes and simply accept his lover's affectionate gesture.

- Thank you. - Peter said, this time in a more delicate and less irritated tone. In return, Caspian held one of his hands and placed a kiss on his fingers, letting his lips take time to caress that pale, soft skin. When that contact finally ceased, the telmarine was taken by surprise when he noticed the way the man sitting in front of him stared back at him, following his every slightest movement, without ever looking away.

Peter's eyes were the first thing that caught Caspian's attention when they met. Those blue eyes, deep and clear as the ocean, sometimes calm and peaceful, sometimes restless and stormy, where giant waves crashed and broke against each other. Caspian always felt like he found a new adventure every time he looked into those eyes, a new secret to be revealed, a new dark corner to be found, an infinite number of possibilities and mysteries that would be impossible to discover in a single life. Even those who called themselves the bravest explorers would be intimidated by the sight of those turbulent and unpredictable waters, but Caspian wasn't one of them. He came from a long lineage of pirates, the daring and danger of the seas ran through his veins. He was not afraid of drowning - in fact, he gladly embraced this possibility.

Suddenly, a slow, romantic ballad started playing on the radio, waking the two lovers from their frenzy - or maybe it was just carrying them into a new dream.

- Would you give me the privilege of follow me in this dance? - Caspian invited him, speaking in a low, deep voice in a way that let his Spanish accent even more evident. He knew very well the effect such seductive move used to have on Peter and how to use it to his advantage.

- The tea will get cold. - the other one stammered in a failed attempt to disguise the desire that took his breath away.

The dark-haired man just chuckled cheekily.

- Just shut up.

Peter didn't even try to retort as he knew that any form of resistance would be futile. He just stood up and let Caspian guide them to the little slice of Heaven the two of them shared.

Since the first time he and his siblings were sent away from Narnia, Peter didn't believe that he would ever be able to feel such genuine joy in worldly things again, like taking an afternoon nap in the shade of a tree, inhaling the scent of the pages of a book when you open it, feeling a snowflake melting on your tongue or even practicing small acts of altruism and kindness on a daily basis that were capable of transforming lives in miraculous ways - he also quickly learned that he didn’t need to be a powerful hero to help those who needed it most.

And of course, dancing at night in the middle of the kitchen with your love. It was another one of his favorite pastimes. Two bodies united, moving in time and space. Heart against heart, beating like drums, sharing the same melody. They were flames, burning and turning everything around them into shadows and smoke, until there was nothing left but the music and two souls naked in the starlight.

The tea was left forgotten on the top of the table, along with all his responsibilities. At that moment, Peter's only reality was Caspian's hair tangled between his fingers, those strong arms running around his hips and the heat of the young man’s lips brushing the skin of his neck. He had never felt so much pleasure in being totally surrendered. All Peter could do was close his eyes, sigh deeply, and just exist.

After that, it's not known exactly how much time has passed. Any sense of hours or minutes became completely clouded and scattered. One moment, the two men were standing in the kitchen and the next, they had been magically transported to the bedroom, taking off their clothes and continuing their dance, but this time, to a rhythm that only they could hear. It was an old song of which only they knew the notes, the rests and the chords. They were the only ones who knew which parts of the body they needed to touch with their hands or mouth to make the other moan, scream and sing.

At the end of the act, the two found themselves thrown onto the messy bed sheets, sweaty bodies intertwined in the darkness. Peter rested his forehead against Caspian's collarbone and closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of his skin and concentrating on the heavy rise and fall of the boy's chest. Then, he felt Caspian wrap his arms around him and slowly slide his hands down his back, massaging specific points on his spine with circular movements of his thumbs. It was a calm, relaxing sensation that made all the tension in the blond's muscles disappear, allowing him to sink into a deep sleep.

It was still something strange to him, being with someone who made him feel safe, protected. In most situations, it was Peter who was forced to take on the mantle of protector, as the eldest brother and as king. It was a challenge to give up this role that he had imposed on himself for so long. It took patience and reflection for him to finally understand that his family was no longer in danger, that the war was already over. That he didn't need to fight anymore. Of course, there were still days when he was haunted by terrible echoes of the past, nights when he woke up to the sound of his own crying and the screams in his head, afternoons when he walked very attentively down the street or stood still for a minute in front of the cottage’s door in an unusual state of alert, as if he feared that something bad was about to happen at any moment.

Now, everything had changed. Peter had found someone he could show his demons to and he knew they wouldn't run away. Not that he had never been vulnerable when he was around his siblings. It was hard not to be when the four of them knew each other better than anyone else: Susan could read his thoughts with just a single look. After years of fighting side by side on the battlefield, Peter and Edmund's minds worked as one, always predicting and preceding each other's every move and strategy. Lucy's presence was enough to calm the storm of emotions that shook his insides.

But with Caspian, that feeling had a different flavor. It wasn't better, nor worse, it was just… new. Peter would face a thousand armies out of love for his family and his kingdom. The love he felt for Caspian made him want to lay down his sword and strip off his armor forever. It was the kind of love that made him want to live, not just survive.

Yes, sometimes all a king needed was a safe haven to lean on. Sometimes, what a king needed most was just someone he could be weak with.

#bia's failed attempt at writing #also I beg you all to please ignore any possible historical inaccuracy in this 🙏#I didn't specify the time in which the story takes place but I imagined it like 5-6 years after the ending of “Prince Caspian (movie-verse)#oh and can I mention HOW BEAUTIFUL 40's SONGS ARE?!!! I'm just commenting 'cause I heard many 40's vibes playlists on youtube #to get some inspiration while writing this fic and OMG I FELT SO RELAXED AND NOSTALGIC (FROM A TIME I WASN'T EVEN BORN) IT'S SO CRAZY!!!! 😍#the chronicles of narnia #chronicles of narnia #narnia #tcon #c.s. lewis #narnia au #peter pevensie #caspian x #prince caspian #caspeter #caspian x peter #peter x caspian #william moseley #ben barnes #disney #fanfiction #narnia fanfiction #narnia fic #narnia aesthetic #aesthetic #aesthetic moodboard #my edits #oneshot #one shot #my writing

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believemedarlin · 4 months

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The Perfect Man

Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader (3.9k words) Also available on AO3

Summary:

“You know, if you combined all the men on the team… they’d make the perfect man.”

“What?” Emily sputtered into her wine.

Penelope giggled while JJ looked intrigued

***

A drunken night out with the girls leads to some interesting revelations.

***

“Let’s play Fuck, Marry, Kill.”

A round of groans sounded from the table, but Penelope Garcia was not to be dissuaded.

“Come on, ladies. It’ll be fun!”

Her best puppy dog eyes firmly in place, Penelope implored her friends and coworkers with a practiced look. You were holding strong until she brought out the big guns and pouted at you.

A mere ten seconds later you caved.

“Okay, fine,” You sighed. “But can we use kick instead of kill? I always hated that option. Why do you have to kill them when kicking would be just as effective in showing your lack of interest? No death required.”

“Ooh, I like that,” Penelope immediately agreed with a nod. “You know I’m a pacifist at heart.”

She turned to the other two women seated at the table, pout back in full force. JJ gave in first, patting Penelope’s hand with an indulgent smile and a nod.

Seeing that she was outnumbered, Emily shrugged. “Sure. But I’ll need another drink if we’re doing this. I haven’t played this since college.”

“I’ll get us all another round.” Penelope jumped to her feet to join her and they made their way to the bar, weaving through the other patrons.

It was a rare Friday night off and the women of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit had decided to go out for a much-needed night of ladies-only fun and frivolity. They had happily left the guys to sort out their evenings and escaped the second the clock struck five.

They were all a few drinks in at this point, which is most likely the reason Penelope had suggested the game. She always got a bit playful when she drank.

They returned a few minutes later, fresh drinks in hand.

Once settled, Penelope leaned in, an eager smile on her face. “Okay. Fuck, Marry, Kick. Henry Cavill, Ben Barnes, Zachary Levi. And go!”

Emily took a sip of her drink and wasted no time in voicing her choices, followed by JJ and you. You took turns coming up with more and more outlandish options, and pleasantly spent the next hour drinking and laughing with your friends.

You had just finished giggling over Penelope’s reasoning behind her choosing to kick Willy Wonka and marry Jareth the Goblin King so she could enjoy a night with Conan the Barbarian when Emily leaned in with a smirk.

“I’ve got a good one. Hotch, Morgan, and Reid.”

The table erupted in a chorus of ooohs and laughter.

JJ bit her lip in thought. “Okay, since we know them personally and I’m a happily taken woman, I’m going to change mine to kiss, because it’s weird to say I want to fuck any of them. So, uh, I’ll go with kiss Morgan, marry Reid, and kick Hotch. But only barely, because I do not want him angry with me.”

“Easy,” Penelope chirped. “Fuck Morgan, marry Morgan, and kick Reid and Hotch.”

You, JJ, and Emily burst into laughter, with JJ swatting Penelope on the arm. “You can’t double up like that!”

“Can too! My game, my rules. Besides, it’s special circumstances with Morgan as an option.”

Emily snorted, then grinned. “Hmm. I think I’d go with fuck Morgan, marry Hotch, and kick Reid.”

All eyes then turned to you as you stared into your drink, taking entirely too long as you overthought the options.

Eventually, Emily cleared her throat and you looked up to see her watching you expectantly.

“What?” You grinned sheepishly with a shrug. “It’s harder than you’d think!”

The ladies teased you good-naturedly until you finally said, “Okay, okay! Um, I think…”

You blew out a breath in a long sigh. “Fuck Reid, marry Hotch, kick Morgan. No wait… Maybe fuck Hotch, marry Reid?”

Emily and JJ cackled while Penelope put on a fake offended air. “Why you gotta kick my beloved cinnamon hot chocolate Adonis not once, but twice? He’s the perfect man!”

"I mean, a lot of women would think that, yeah, but not me.”

Penelope gasped and pressed her hand to her chest dramatically. “Why, I never.”

You giggled with a shrug. “Sorry?”

“You’re forgiven.”

“What I want to know,” JJ chimed in with a mischievous grin, “is why you can’t decide between Reid and Hotch on who to marry?”

You buried your face in your hands to hide your blush. “I don’t know! Both seem like solid choices. I think they’d both make good husbands.”

Emily smirked. “Sure it wasn’t because you couldn’t decide which you’d rather fuck?”

Penelope and JJ burst into laughter again while you groaned into your hands.

“You all are menaces. I don’t know why I spend time with you.”

“Because we’re wonderful people and you love us.” Penelope teased.

“That’s debatable.” You mumbled.

“Oh, come on,” she leaned into your side and laid her head on your shoulder. “You know you adore us.” Penelope batted her eyes and you couldn’t help but grin.

“Yeah, I do.”

She cheered and called for another round of drinks.

The game wound down and devolved into a rather extensive list of men and women that each of the ladies wouldn’t mind enjoying some personal one-on-one time with.

You had been sitting in a comfortable silence for the past few minutes, chin in hand and elbow on the table, your mind pondering on something Penelope had said earlier. Your voice took on a contemplative tone as you mused aloud, “You know, if you combined all the men on the team… they’d make the perfect man.”

“What?” Emily sputtered into her wine.

Penelope giggled while JJ looked intrigued.

“Okay, just hear me out. Now, granted, everyone’s idea of the perfect man is different but for me… If we go by physical attributes first, you have to admit that each guy is objectively attractive on their own. I mean seriously, was it a prerequisite that everyone has to be outrageously good-looking to be a member of the team?”

The ladies heartily agreed with laughter and nods, but you gestured across the table to them. “I’m including you three in this too. Have you looked at yourselves? You’re all absolutely gorgeous.”

“Damn right, we are,” Emily exclaimed as she high-fived JJ.

You raised your glass to her and took a sip before expanding on your premise. “So by themselves, each man is handsome but combined…”

You tilt your head in thought. “For me, it would be Reid’s hair. I’ve always liked longer hair on a guy and have you seen those curls when he lets it grow out? And then add in Hotch and Rossi’s dark hair and … yeah. Next would be Morgan and Rossi’s facial hair. I don’t know about you ladies but I like a man with a bit of scruff, you know what I mean? Goatee or full beard or just a couple of days growth, hell even a good five o’clock shadow, as long as it’s maintained and not all scraggly, I like it. Oooh, remember when Hotch came back with a beard?

“Yeah,” you sighed, a bit more dreamily than you had intended, surely caused by the late hour and not the memory of a casually dressed, bearded Hotch. “Like that.”

All three ladies shared a knowing look, but you paid them no mind.

“Though there is something to be said about a freshly shaved face. It’s so soft…�� You sighed again.

“And then there’s height.” You knew you were rambling, but with the alcohol fueling you, there was little chance of stopping you now. “They’re all at least 6 foot so the height difference is perfect for both cuddles and forehead kisses.”

At this, Emily snorted. “Forehead kisses?”

“Yes,” you snipped primly. “They are the pinnacle of non-lip-to-lip kisses and they are my favorite thing. They just make you feel so adored. Now shush.”

You shooed her and rested your chin back in your hand. “Let’s see… Eyes. Honestly, I think they all have lovely eyes. I’m not picky on eye color really but I think Hotch’s stand out the most to me. I mean, have you seen his eyelashes? It should be criminal for a man to have such beautiful eyelashes.”

Another round of nods and hummed agreements sounded from the table.

“You know,” you continue with barely a pause, “I’ve never been a fan of really buff dudes, which sorry Pen, but that’s kinda why poor Morgan got kicked twice.” You shrugged unapologetically at her.

“I’ve always preferred lean guys. Not scrawny but not bugling out his shirt, you know? Strong but not shoved in your face. But!” You sit straighter in your chair, index finger raised to emphasize your point. “That’s just looks. Personality-wise, I’m drawn to kindness first and our boys all have that in spades. And they each show it in different ways, but it’s always present.”

You met Penelope’s eyes. “And Morgan’s kindness absolutely overrides his excessive muscle mass. He’s honestly one of the kindest people I know, even if he’d deny it. He’s not humble about a lot of things, but he is about that.”

Your eyes dropped to the table as your finger ran along the wood grain. “I also like intelligence and while yes, first thoughts go to Reid, the others are all brilliant too. Like, Rossi is so wise! It seems like he always knows what’s going on with someone before anyone else, and always seems to know just what to say just when you need to hear it. And they each have strengths that I admire. I genuinely like each of them as a person and I’m proud to know them and am honored they consider me a friend. Honestly, I feel that way about all of you.”

“Aw!” Penelope sniffled. “That’s so sweet. We love you too, you know.”

You gave her hand a quick squeeze and took another sip of your drink.

“What about lips?”

You blinked at JJ. “Lips? I’m not sure. I don’t know that I look at them much.”

Emily tilted her head. “You seriously don’t look at men’s lips?”

“Not really? I mean, I notice smiles. And honestly, how did I not start with that? It’s usually one of the first things I notice about someone. Smiles make everyone look twice as attractive. Oh, and a sense of humor! Gotta love a man who can make you laugh.”

“This one is definitely Morgan,” Emily chimed in and you nodded in agreement while Penelope raised her glass.

“Absolutely. He always makes me laugh, but so do the others. Rossi is snarky, which I appreciate as a fellow snarker. I can’t tell you the number of times he’s made me hold back a laugh during a round table. Reid can be really funny, too. Especially when we’re making Star Trek or Doctor Who references that no one else gets. Except you, Pen, but you’re usually in your lair. And Hotch—”

“No,” Emily cut in. “No way you think he’s funny. The man barely smiles.”

You tsked and leaned in, your tone turning a bit haughty. “First of all, I think it’s a good thing that he holds those back because have you seen how handsome he is when he smiles? His whole face transforms and he has dimples. Dimples . It’s ridiculous and no one would be able to focus on work if he was blinding us with his smile all the time. And secondly, yes. He’s hilarious, actually. He has a dry sense of humor that gets me every time. And he is so straight-faced about it. I laughed embarrassingly loud once at something he said and I had to leave the room because I couldn’t stop giggling. And the man had the nerve to be smug about it later.”

You shook your head with exasperated fondness, not noticing the raised eyebrows and pointed looks the other ladies were sharing.

“Anyway,” You sighed and leaned back in your chair. “Morgan is my biggest supporter, Reid nerds out with me, Rossi gives the best advice, and Hotch makes me feel safe. All things that would attract me to someone. So, with their powers combined…” You spread your hands in a sweeping motion. “The perfect man.”

“Huh,” Penelope hummed. “You know, I kinda see it.”

“See?” You grinned triumphantly. “We really do work with amazing guys.”

A cry of ‘hear, hear’ sounded around the table and the four of you leaned in to clink glasses.

Emily settled back in her chair with a smirk, her eyes focused on you. “Okay, you waxed poetic about the guys. Now, what about us?”

You grinned. “You, my darling lady loves, all hold a special place in my heart. There’s no way I could choose. You are each the perfect woman.”

Another cheer went up and everyone downed their drinks, laughing merrily.

The outing wound down about half an hour later. You each stumbled your way outside, Emily and Penelope deciding to share a taxi.

You stood with JJ as you waved the other two goodbye; you waiting for your own taxi and JJ waiting for Will to pick her up.

“You know,” she said conversationally, her eyes on the street. “You mentioned Hotch quite a few times describing your perfect man.”

You blinked. “What? I did not.”

She turned to you with a wide grin. “Oh yes, you did. No denying it now.”

You sputtered, not sure how to reply.

She chuckled and laid a hand on your arm, just as your taxi arrived. “Seems to me like he ticks quite a few of the boxes for your perfect man.” She leaned in to whisper, “So what are you going to do about it?”

JJ winked as she stepped back to open the door of the car that pulled in behind your taxi and slid in. “Just think about it, okay?”

You nodded numbly, mechanically climbing into the back seat of the taxi while Will and JJ patiently waited to make sure you were safely on your way.

You mumbled out your address and barely noticed the drive home, arriving much sooner than expected, as your mind was focused on JJ’s words.

You shook your head as you entered your apartment, determined to think no more of it. It was just a silly statement born out of one too many drinks.

There was no way you thought of Hotch that way.

No way at all.

***

The rest of the weekend was miraculously quiet and work-free. You couldn’t remember the last time you had so much time to yourself, so you took full advantage of it.

As days off always tended to do, they flew by too quickly and Monday morning arrived before you were ready for it. You greeted everyone when you entered the department, nodding to Rossi and waving at Morgan and Penelope as you settled in at your desk.

No new case had come in, so today would be an in-office day catching up on paperwork and caseloads.

You were productive throughout the day, completing most of the pending work assigned to you, and you were feeling quite accomplished with the diminishing stack in your inbox.

Only a few minutes remained in the workday when you stood from your chair, stretching your stiff back, and made your way up the stairs to Hotch’s office to drop off an armful of completed reports.

You knocked on his door, only having to wait a second before he bid you enter.

He was focused on the open file in front of him and he didn’t look up until you spoke. “These are ready for you to review, Hotch.”

His eyes shot up to meet yours before dropping to the folders in your arms. He gestured to the corner of his desk nearest you and went back to scribbling notes on the report. “You can just leave them there, thank you.”

You set them down next to another stack and grimaced. There were multiple bundles of files littering his desk. While in-office days were great for clearing your desk of work, it unfortunately always added to Hotch’s workload.

“Looks like everyone had similar offerings for you today. Will you be able to leave at a reasonable hour tonight? I’d be happy to help with anything if you need it.”

Hotch finished the line he was writing and looked up at you through his long lashes, a small, shy kind of smile curving his lips. His cheeks were just a touch pinker than usual and you blinked because you’ve never seen that look on his face before.

He looked almost bashful, a word you would never have associated with Aaron Hotchner.

But damn, was it a good look on him. He really was a handsome man, wasn’t he? Kind, funny, successful, and a great father. He was practically the perfect man.

You froze and blinked again at the realization.

“Oh, uh,” his deep voice broke you from your thoughts. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got it covered. I shouldn’t be here too much longer.”

“Right, of course.” You nodded and prayed he couldn’t see the blush you knew was rapidly spreading across your face. “Well, good night, sir.”

You spun on your heel and opened the door, ready to flee as fast as your feet could carry you.

His low, murmured good night followed you out the door and you nearly shivered because holy hell, even his voice was attractive.

You quickly grabbed your things and nearly sprinted to the elevators, not wanting to stay one second longer around skilled profilers who could read you so easily, knowing they would spot your flushed cheeks instantly and want to know what caused them. Or worse, they’d already know, and that was not something you were ready to discuss with any of them at the moment.

You had fully intended on ignoring JJ’s words from Friday night, but after your reaction just now, you knew she was right.

Hotch was pretty damn close to fitting the idea of your perfect man.

Or maybe, the idea of your perfect man came from Hotch.

You sighed as you entered the thankfully empty elevator, finally admitting to yourself the truth that had been staring you in the face for longer than you’d ever care to admit.

You had it bad for Aaron Hotchner.

Oh, you were in so much trouble.

***

Aaron watched as you left his office, your face a delightful shade of pink.

His eyes followed as you rushed to your desk, snatched up your things, and darted out the door.

He hadn’t meant to overhear Prentiss and Garcia’s conversation that morning as they reminisced over their night out last Friday. He certainly hadn’t meant to linger when they mentioned you and your adorable—according to Garcia—rant about the perfect man. And he most certainly hadn’t meant to lean in rather eagerly when they whispered about just how many times his name had come up as an example during said rant.

He had been pleasantly surprised and somewhat stunned by the information. He’d never thought of himself as an ideal for the perfect man.

Sure, he supposed he had a few attributes that some women might find appealing. He had a successful career and tried to keep in shape, though that was more for his job than vanity.

But he never imagined that anyone would look at him and think that he was a paradigm of their perfect man. Least of all you.

You were a brilliant profiler, exceptional in the field and able to hold your own in a fight when needed, but you were also caring with the victims and their families. You were witty and kind and easygoing. You were someone who smiled freely and laughed readily and did your best to cheer and encourage the team on tough cases.

Not someone who would think of stoic, hardass Aaron Hotchner as the perfect man.

Still, he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes from drifting to the window of his office throughout the day, seeking you out.

He thought back to when you joined the BAU and how quickly you became not only an essential part of the team but a much-welcomed member of their little family. Everyone adored you and Aaron himself had to admit that you had wormed your way into his heart.

He loved the time he got to spend with you when the team got together to unwind after a case and the little moments of levity you all shared in between working. He recalled the times he managed to make you laugh and the occasions where he found himself chuckling as well. You were easy to talk to and more often than not, the two of you fell into conversation whenever everyone else was either asleep or preferred to be left alone on the jet going to and from cases.

He genuinely enjoyed your company and found himself wishing he could enjoy it more often.

His eyes wandered to the bullpen again, zeroing in on you almost immediately. Prentiss and Morgan were standing by your desk when one of them said something that made you laugh.

Your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth opened to release an enchanting sound of delight. Aaron couldn’t look away and had to admit that you really were quite lovely. Inside and out.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat looking at you but knew it was longer than appropriate. He shook his head and forced himself to focus back on his work.

He managed to shove all thoughts of you from his mind for the remainder of the day until a soft knock sounded on his door late in the afternoon.

He didn’t bother to look up from the report he was notating after giving a gruff come in until he heard your voice.

Aaron couldn’t keep his eyes from darting up to meet yours before dropping them to the large stack of files in your arms.

He gestured for you to place them on the corner of his desk next to the ones Reid had deposited earlier and thought that would be his singular interaction with you for the day.

But then your caring side came out again and you sweetly offered to help him, a proposition that both filled him with fondness and nervousness.

After all his wayward thoughts about you throughout the day, he wasn’t sure if being in close proximity with you was a good idea or not.

Aaron looked up at you again, the late afternoon sun enveloping you, enhancing your features, and his only thought was that he’d been wrong earlier.

You weren’t just lovely. You were stunning.

In that moment, he was completely captivated by you and his thoughts ran rampant as he cataloged every minute detail of you. Your beauty, your kindness, your brilliance, and all the little things that made you you . Everything that endeared you to him.

But his thoughts came to a crashing halt when he realized that he was staring at you. He felt his face flush and he stammered as he gently declined your help.

You bid him a good night, but Aaron couldn’t take his eyes off the spreading blush on your cheeks. It kept his attention until you were out of sight.

He blinked and dropped his eyes back to the forgotten report in front of him, a slow smile creeping across his face.

He may not have meant to overhear the conversation that caused him to think about you all day, but he was starting to be glad he had. It seemed it was all he needed to face a few truths he had been in denial about for a long while now.

He was completely and utterly smitten with you.

Now, he just had to decide what to do about it.

Aaron sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

Oh, he was in so much trouble.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia #emily prentiss #jj jareau #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds fanfiction

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