context: gn!reader x hotch, helping them with grieving
You were almost convinced that you should just quit your job. More and more often you found yourself on the roof of the BAU, tears streaming down your face as you tried to gather yourself. It was cold, the middle of winter but you were outside, a shivering, shaking grief filled mess. Your vision is so blurred that the trees and sky have become one big blob of various shades of grey. That's how you were feeling. Sadness was usually personified through the color blue but even that felt too vibrant. You were grey, dull, empty; just trying to make it.
If you could just see him one more time. Hear his laugh. Feel the warmth of his hug. Peter was not only your brother but your best friend and it feels like a piece of you is missing now that he's gone. You feel alone and like you'll never be understood again. So wrapped up in the memories and trying to remember what it felt like to have him with you, you don't hear the door to the roof open behind you.
Hotch stands at the door for a moment, just taking in your appearance. His eyes run over the way your clothing shapes your frame and how the wind ruffles your hair slightly. He can see that you're shaking, your hands firmly gripping the ledge of the building. When another sob leaves your throat he can't help himself, closing the space between the two of you and putting his arm around you.
"Hotch? What're you doing?" You quickly wipe your face and eyes which widen in surprise.
"Comforting you. Being here for you." He says it like it's obvious but you still don't understand, and frankly it makes you nervous for him to see you so fragile. You'd been able to focus less on your feelings for him when your brother passed, keeping him at arm's length. That wasn't so easy when he was with you now, seeing you in one of your most vulnerable moments.
"Oh, it's fine, sir. I'll be fine. Thank you." You place your hand on his to remove his arm but he just tightens his hold on you.
"You've come up here every day this week, I know you're not fine. We could talk about it, just the two of us."
"We're meant to be working right now." You say, as an excuse to not talk.
"Your head isn't clear and I'd rather us get you in a better place than worry about budgeting and finishing reports. Your feelings are important, you're important and I know you're struggling with this. Let me help you."
"Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden."
"Y/n, you could never be a burden. Why don't you tell me about him? If you're comfortable."
A big, hesitant sigh leaves you as you turn around, leaning back against the ledge of the building. Hotch's arm comes around you once more. He wants to comfort you but he's also grown used to the feeling of having you in his arms just that quickly. "His name was Peter, you know that. He was only a few years older than me with these inquisitive, kind hazel eyes. He was so...everything? Everything that someone would want to be. Patient, kind, and absolutely fucking hilarious. He could make me laugh at anything, literally anything until I was breathless. He would just say the stupidest things and you couldn't not laugh you know?"
Hotch doesn't want to interrupt but he nods, a small smile starting to spread across his face as he sees you come to life while recounting who your brother was.
"Sometimes I suspected that we were twins and our parents just said we were years apart so we couldn't constantly ramble about it. Because, I could tell him anything and he would just understand. I didn't have to explain myself or justify any of my feelings or actions ever because he just knew me so well. We knew each other so well. " The tears are starting to form in your eyes again and you take a deep breath, looking up at the sky as you wish the tears to go away. Hotch's arm tightens once more, pulling you closer so your head rests on his chest.
"He was such a gentleman. I don't think when I was with him I ever opened a door or paid for a thing. He took care of the people loved, he took care of me. He made sure that I didn't work myself to death in school and then when I started here he did the same. He always said, 'You have to loosen up Y/n, you have to live outside of goals'. Now I don't know what to do. The balance I had came from him. I don't know how to do this without him."
"We'll figure it out. You don't have to do this alone." It's a firm declaration, one that peaks your interest and makes you look at him.
"Hotch?" You ask softly, biting the inside of your cheek.
"Hmm?" He hums.
"Why are you being so nice to me?"
Hotch is the one that now hesitates, unsure that this is the right time to be honest with you about the feelings he's been harbouring for months. He truly came up here to be a support, he didn't want to make this about him, or make you more uncomfortable than you already were. But you look up at him with curious eyes, ones that he knows won't stop pestering him for information because you've done it before. It's something he loves about you. You watch him closely as his eyes flutter back and forth, swallowing nervously. With a deep breath he whispers, "Because I like you, Y/n."
Your mouth drops open as you blink through what he's just said. "You what?"
"I have feelings for you."
"You do?"
"I do. I always have."
"Well..." you look down at your hands, "...I'd be lying if I said I don't think about you in that way."
He chuckles in disbelief. "Really?"
"Yes, really, how many times have I bought you coffee? Not brought, because I'll bring anyone coffee, but bought you coffee? You get paid more than me, why would I do that? You thought it was because you're a good boss?"
"Hey, I'm a great boss." He defends, squeezing your waist in a way that makes you squeal.
"You're a great boss and I'd think you'd be an even better date if you ever grow the balls to ask me out."
"I guess we'll have to put that to the test. Dinner tonight?"
"Can I turn in those reports tomorrow afternoon?" You give him the widest pout and biggest puppy dog eyes you can manage.
He pretends to think about it, pursing his lips together and looking up at the sky which makes you laugh. It's a deep hearty laugh he hasn't heard in months and it makes him want to kiss you. "If that means we get to have dinner then yes."
"Then dinner it is."
He leans in slowly, continuing to make eye contact, silently asking for permission to kiss you. You grant it with the smallest nod and then your lips are pressed against his in a kiss that makes you feel a little less empty and a little less dull. His arms are around you in an instant, pinning you against him and you melt into the contact. You find yourself trembling in his arms, but not with grief; with anticipation. For the first time in months you're looking towards the future.
"Is there anything I can do to make this easier? Time off, a lighter workload?" He asks, his lips brushing against yours with every word. He can't take his eyes off of you. He felt like for the first time in a long time he was seeing the person he fell in love with again.
"Just be here."
"I can do that." You hum against him in response before tucking your head into the crook of his neck, and wrapping your arms around him, hoping you'll never have to let go.
