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#debating the timeline of Buddie and their divorce
bibuckagenda · 14 days
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Ravi “who’s Tommy?” Panikkar meeting Tommy for the first time and he asks him if it’s weird being eddie’s friend and dating Buck since they’re divorced.
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hockeyboysiguess · 4 years
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Countdown
a/n: what’s up everyone? i’m new in town because i found one stupid hockey boy which led me to another and you know how it goes. let me know if you want me to continue writing!
warnings: some swearing, a little bit of drinking.
Your feet were killing you, and you’d definitely had a couple more than you set out to have when the night started, but it was New Year’s Eve, you told yourself. It was the kind of night you could have a little too much. You rocked a little forward on your heels, trying to relieve some of the pressure on the arches of your feet, but it threw you off balance. Luckily, Mat was there with a steady arm to keep you to your feet. You could’ve done without the chirping that immediately followed the incident.
“You know, you could just take the shoes off if they’re bothering you that much,” he said, with a laugh edging at each word as he spoke.
“I’ve definitely explained this to you before,” you sighed. “You look at the shoe, you look at your feet, you tell yourself that your shoes and your feet are married tonight and nothing in the world will separate you. You can’t get divorced after two hours, would look bad for my next husband.”
“You are more committed to those shoes than you were with your last boyfriend,” Mat retorts, never the one to stop the banter first.
“He couldn’t support me like these babies can.” You point your toes and jut one foot out for emphasis, “He didn’t make my legs look this killer either.”
Mat rolled his eyes at you and laughed, a constant combination in your friendship that had become one of the most crucial in your life this past year. You’d met him towards the beginning of the year, and you got along instantly due to your identical senses of humor. Your friendship solidified with his willingness to try practically every restaurant in New York City with you and the fact that you always let him be the DJ whenever you were together. You tried to go through the timeline of your friendship, trying to find the moment something shifted and he stopped being your friend Mat and started being the reason you said no to dates with other guys when they approached you and why you refused to let any of you other friends set you up with anyone. You glanced over at the clock to distract yourself from your thoughts, 11:50pm. Ten minutes to midnight.
“Hey, I was just thinking about the day we met,” Mat told you, a smile on his face carrying over to yours as you remembered the first time you met him.
Ten.
- Months ago, you were at a party pretty similar to this where everyone was a little less dressed up and the alcohol was a lot worse. You were standing with two of your friends, debating on if you wanted to stay longer or head out to the bars when a ping pong ball landed in your cup.
“Hey! My buddy needs a partner for pong. Can you play? Doesn’t matter if you’re shit; he’s probably worse.”
You shrugged, said, “Why not?” and stepped up to the table next to him. You set your cup down on the table and turned to your new partner for the evening, “If I have to carry this team, now’s the time to let me know that you’re dead weight.”
His face was a little taken aback for a second, but then a wide smile formed across his face. He nodded softly.
“I like you,” he said. “You’re right, I am totally about to be dead weight. My name’s Mat by the way.”
You introduced yourself to him and proceeded to win the next two rounds of beer pong with Mat making three cups the entire time. You made fun of his accent. He pretended to be upset that you got away with breaking the elbows rule because you had boobs and they distracted Tito, but the distraction was to his advantage so he said he’d let the rule breaking slide as long as you promised to be his pong partner for the night. You agreed to take him on as charity case for the night if he tried a Thai-Greek fusion brunch with you tomorrow morning that none of your other friends we’re willing to go it. He took the deal and your friendship began.
Nine.
“– seasons of How I Met Your Mother? Jesus, is this even going to be worth it?” Mat complained
“Get the popcorn, sit down, and shut up,” you told him. “I cannot believe you haven’t seen this before. It’s a classic.
“Friends is a classic,” he sighs as he sits down on the couch, dropping the popcorn bowl between you. “This is a cheap imitation. Besides, I thought you would hate this. Isn’t Barney like very anti your whole super feminist thing or something and doesn’t Ted just suck?”
“If you don’t realize you have to take everything in this world with a grain of salt yet, then you are beyond help, Barzy.”
You binged it in under three weeks. While you’d lived the last episode premiering live with your family, you didn’t think you’d ever seen anyone as pissed off at the ending of the show than Mat was. Your sides hurt from laughing so much at his insane ranting about how they could have possibly done that to him, with all of the time he invested in this show. He took it personally and swore he’d never watch another episode again. You still couldn’t bring it up without making him start a whole diatribe. It was your party trick together even though Mat wasn’t quite in on the joke.
Eight.
- Days in Spain in June. Mat insisted on you joining him on his post season tour of Europe. By tour he meant never leaving Spain but going on a lot of wine tours and pretending he knew a lot about wine even though he couldn’t tell the difference between a three-hundred-dollar bottle of age merlot and a bottle of Barefoot if his life depended on it.
“Oh, isn’t this a fabulous red vintage?” Mat said to you, doing an impossibly bad British accent in an attempt to sound fancy. “I can taste floral,” he sipped the wine again, smacking his tongue against his lips loudly, “and citrus notes in this one. You’ll quite like it, madam.”
“You’re gonna get us kicked out,” you sang softly to him as you noticed the daggers he was getting from your tour guide.
Mat slung his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in tight to him. You could feel his muscles tense under his thin t-shirt, and your breath caught in your throat. Some part of you had known he was attractive this whole time; you’d just never been forced to pay attention until this exact moment when you were pressed up against him. You pushed the thoughts to a far corner of your mind. This was your friend Mat and you didn’t need anything more than that from him. You didn’t want it, you told yourself.
Seven.
- Seconds left on the clock. You were pretty sure you hadn’t breathed for the last 5 minutes of the game and you were gripping your seat so hard that your knuckles were starting to go numb. The Islanders were down by one going into the last two minutes against Tampa Bay. Tito had scored to create a 3-3 game with just over a minute on the clock to play. You didn’t want this to go into overtime and neither did the guys. They wanted to complete the comeback win here and now.
You watched as Mat shifted the puck side to side on the ice. You saw him glance up at the clock for a brief second, then he looked back towards the net and he saw his shot. He took it without any hesitation. You were on your feet before the puck hit the back of the net. Mat was immediately engulfed by his teammates, swallowed up in a sea of blue and orange jerseys. His games practically gave you a heart attack, but you’d never turn him down if he asked you to come and he asked you to come a lot.
“Hey there, superstar,” you said, the smile in your voice obvious as you met Mat in the tunnel after he’d finished up his interviews and changed.
“Hey there,” he laughed, giving your shoulder a little shove
You looked around as you walked out with him. He was walking you through that final shot, second by second, but you couldn’t focus on his story. You saw the girlfriends, fiancées, and wives of the other players greeting their respective partners and for a split second you let yourself imagine that with Mat. You hadn’t really thought about it before, but as soon as let that wall down and the flood gates opened, and your feelings for Mat hit you square in the stomach. You wanted to be like them, have what they have, and for a split second, you let yourself want that with him. You wanted him to look at you like the other guys looked at their girlfriends and wives.
“Um, hello?” Mat’s large hang waving in front of your face pulled you out of your moment.
“Oh, sorry. Can you start over? I got a little sidetracked.”
“You okay?” he asked, concern coating the words and his brows furrowing.
“Super-duper, superstar. Try me again.”  
Six.
“-Entrées is way too many. Look, I know you’re practically a championship level competitive eater for fun, but this feels like an exercise of your skills we don’t need to practice.”
“Two things. One, calling pancakes an entrée is a little much. It’s just pancakes,” you retorted, “and two, they serve six different kinds of pancakes here, so I’m getting six kinds of pancakes. Join me or get the hell out.”
Mat’s nose scrunched up as he laughed at your response. God, you loved his laugh. You loved it most when you were responsible for it, not the girl he met at the bar last night who was definitely responsible for the marks peeking out from under his shirt. Seeing those when he sat down made you felt like all the air had left the room. You shrugged off your thoughts as best as you could. Mat wasn’t yours to be possessive of, but that didn’t make the pit in your stomach settle either. You took a sip of your orange juice as Mat’s laughter slowed.
“God, how do I still think you’re cool even though that was super lame?” he asked you, stealing your water since his hungover self practically chugged his when he arrived
“Barzy, some things in the world are magical and they’re better left unexplored and unexplained.”
“Like all women,” he said proudly, like he’d discovered something profound.
You rolled your eyes at him. Even when he was an idiot, you still wished he was your idiot and not some girl at the bar’s idiot, but you wouldn’t risk this. This friendship was too important to you to jeopardize for your stupid middle school girl pinning. You put your feelings back in the box they’d let themselves out of just as the pancakes arrived.
Five.
“You think you’d had five drinks tonight?” Your eyebrow is arched as you look back at an incredibly hammered Barzy. You knew he had to be at least eight deep, more like ten, but instead you said, “Are you sure it’s five?”
Mat nodded profusely, looking more like his bobblehead then himself in that moment. You turned your palms up at him and shrugged a bit, giving him a look of complete disbelief. He proudly put down his beer and yanked his sleeve up to show you his wrist. On his wrist were five incredibly smudged tally marks of various lengths. He hadn’t even managed to realize you were supposed to cross the last one across the other four for every set of five, so there were just five incredibly crooked lines drawn on his wrist in Sharpie.
“See? Five tally marks, five drinks,” he told you, like you were the idiot in this situation.
You nodded in fake understanding as an incredible drunk Mat reached for you. He was significantly touchier with you when he was drunk, his large hands always finding your skin and making a series of thoughts you shouldn’t have run through your brain as your heartbeat picked up in your chest. His hands rested on your upper arms this time as he lined himself up with you, forcing you to make eye contact.
“I’m fine. Don’t you worry about ol’ Barzy here,” he slurred.
“You’re twenty-two,” you laughed. “Hardly makes you an old man, my friend. Come on, I called an Uber. Let’s go.”
You took on of his hands from your arm and held it, dragging him slowly out of the party. He had the attention span of a golden retriever puppy when he was drunk, so it was a good thing you had some practice with this and started your journey to the car ten minutes before your Uber was supposed to arrive. By the time you made it outside, it was already waiting for you. You gave him one small shove and he practically fell right into the car.
“You know,” Mat told you as the car started to roll away from the party, “you’re a really good friend, ya know.”  
You smiled at him but turned your face away quickly as you felt the tears start to sting in your eyes. Maybe it’s the few drinks you’d had yourself, but Mat calling you a good friend was definitely supposed to feel good, but all it was make your heart clench inside your chest. It confirmed everything you were feeling. You and Mat were friends, good to great friends even, but that’s how he saw you, his friend. You never wanted to be the kind of person that complained about someone not liking them back, but you finally understood where everyone else was coming from. This feeling was awful in a way you couldn’t quite describe. It was like a hand had reached into you, found the place where your feelings for Mat where, and squeezed hard, except that hand wasn’t actually all too careful to target that one spot and instead squeezed everything inside your chest until you could barely catch your breath and the tears were rolling down your cheeks. Thank god that Mat had way more than five drinks and was already asleep against the opposite window because you couldn’t keep it together the entire ride home.
Four.
“You really want four dogs at once?” The disagreement coated Mat’s voice. “That’s a lot of dogs at once. I think you need to reconsider this part of your life plan.”
“Four is a very reasonable number,” you replied, not even bothering to look up from your phone. “And this is my twenty-year plan here, Mat, not yours. You don’t get a say.”
“I’m your best friend. I deserve a say here if I think you’re going to screw up part of your life,” he countered. “You’re going to be beholden to these creatures. And you’re gonna have four of them! They’re going to need you constantly. You’re not going to have time for anything else.”
“I do plan on like, having someone around at some point,” you reminded him. “Step nine of this plan was to find that man, finally, and one of the key criteria is that is likes dogs, so he’ll help share the workload.”
“And then you really only have two dogs,” Mat mumbles under his breath as he start to nod in understanding. “Okay, okay, I concede. You’re right, four is the correct number of dogs.”
You laughed in response to his agreement, “Now I’ve just got to find a man and convince him like I convinced you.”
“Took you all of a minute to get me on board with your plan here. I’d sign up to co-parent four dogs with you. You’re gonna be a killer pet parent. I’m sure you can get some other schmuck to agree with you. He’s not going to be as hot as me though, so that’s going to be a downgrade for you right there.” You didn’t let his words sink in. You let them flow right out of your head as soon as they came in. It was for the best, you told yourself.
Three.
- Hours into your co-worker’s engagement party and you were about ready to scream. If one more platter of engagement cookies with their initials and faces came past you, you were going to explode. The only reason you’d make it this long was Mat and the fact he tipped the bartender big time when you got your first drink, so he was making you doubles and triples when he was only supposed to pour singles at the open bar.
“This sucks,” you sighed to him, taking a swig of your drink.
“This party is fucking pathetic,” he said to you. “How are people this boring before they’re thirty? I just don’t understand. If I ever get engaged to someone who wants to have cookies with our faces on them at our engagement party, please shoot me.”
“I expect you to do the same if I ever think that’s a good idea,” you laughed as your spoke.
“You know what,” Mat paused only to down the remaining third of his drink in one go, “it’s time to blow this popsicle stand.”
“Jesus, Mat, they haven’t even made a toast yet or anything. We can’t leave yet,” you tried to remind him, even though it was completely half-assed since you might have been more miserable than him.
“Oh, come on, be irresponsible. Let’s go do something actually fun,” Mat said, leaning into you as he spoke. “You’re in a killer dress. You look incredible. There’s this cool bar down the road I’ve been wanting to try, and we’re dressed for the occasion.”
You scrunched up your nose as you thought. You wanted out, but you also really didn’t want to be rude since you’d have to show up to work on Monday regardless. Mat took your drink from you as you thought, taking care of the rest of your glass with ease even though the bottom quarter was definitely straight vodka due to how slow you’d been drinking. He looked at you, his eyes softly begging for you to get the hell out of here with him. You sighed and grabbed one of his hands, making your way towards the back exit. You couldn’t see the smile on his face, but you felt his fingers slide between yours as he gave your hand an appreciative squeeze.
Two.  
- Times that you’ve almost told him how you feel in the last month. The holiday season had you feeling particularly emotional in general due to a combination of Hallmark movies and the holiday parties’ people were having were giving you a few too many opportunities to be drunk around Mat. Drunk you was a little looser lipped than sober you. Both times started and ended the same way.
“Hey, Mat, can I talk to you for a quick sec?”
You placed your hand on his shoulder as he spoke, pulling him slightly so he’d turn to face you. Each time he agreed and followed you away from the crowd, tucked away in a less traffic area of the party.
“What’s up? Are you too drunk? Do you need to head out? I can call an Uber. Or should I call a Lyft?” he asked in rapid succession.
“No, no,” you shook your head. “I, uh, I wanted to tell you something actually.”
“Okay, shoot,” he replied instantly. “You know you can tell me anything.”
Your mouth went dry as the desert and your carefully rehearsed speech dissolved in your mind. You looked at him, his eyes dark as his traced over your face, trying to figure out what could have been important enough for you to pull him away from the party. Your eyes danced across his face, his strong jawline, his kind eyes, his soft lips. You wanted him. You wanted him so badly it hurt, but the idea of losing him from your life kept your mouth shut both times.
“You know what. Actually, it’s nothing. I figured it out myself. Let’s go get another drink.”
One.
You snapped back to the current moment, pulling your head out of the past. You watched the clock turn to 11:59pm.
“Sorry, I zoned out there,” you told him.
“It’s alright. Tito dropped in when you faded off, so no hard feelings,” he laughed as he spoke, “Um, actually, there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about and I guess, why not start the new year off with a bang?”
You took a deep breath in as you looked over Mat’s face curiously. He was nervous. His hands were fidgeting with his cup. He was shuffling from side to side, foot to foot, transferring his weight with each movement. He looked down at the ground, unable to meet your eyes and mumbled something you couldn’t hear. The countdown for the last twenty seconds had already started, so there was too much background noise to catch his words.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you?” You had to shout to make sure he heard you.
“I like you!” he screamed back. “Fuck that, I’m in love you with and I really, really fucking don’t want to see you kiss anyone else at ten seconds because I’m pretty sure it’ll break me at this point.”
Ten. Your mind was racing. Nine. Mat wanted to kiss you. Eight. Mat liked you like you liked him. Seven. No, Mat loved you. Six. He took a step closer to you. Five. He was so nervous, nervous he’d just ruined everything because you still hadn’t said anything. Four. Your feelings burst out from the box you’d put them in, running through your body, making your heart rate kick up in your chest. Three. Mat leaned his face closer to yours. Two. Your eyes locked with his. One. You rocked up on your toes and pressed your lips against his.
His hands found your hips, pulling you desperately closer to him, practically crushing you against his chest, but his lips were soft and gentle against yours. The room exploded into cheers around you, everyone celebrating the ball drop and the new year, but you barely noticed them, until you pulled back from Mat. His eyes scanned your face, trying to figure out exactly what you were feeling.
“I love you too, Mat.”
“Thank God,” he chuckled to himself as he leaned down to kiss you again, “and happy fucking New Year to me.”
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criminallyfanatic · 5 years
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You’re no fun - part two
Hotch and Reader have been friends for a while, reader works for the BAU, and reader was there when Hailey divorced him, went into witness protection and died. Now he’s dating Beth and there’s some unresolved feelings left between the two of them. But what will happen between them, and will the past come back to bite them? set during season 8, but i’ve moved some of the events round to suit my timeline (because I can and because drama!) 
Aaron Hotchner x reader 
part one / part two / part three / part four / part five 
                                                              *
You had been at the Rossi’s barely half an hour, and you were practically worn out already. To be fair you had been chasing Jack around the garden for nearly 10 minutes. You were worn out much quicker then he was and you found yourself falling onto a bench as he zoomed past. You watched him for a moment, chuckling to yourself,  before your attention was pulled away as you felt someone sit down next to you. The person held out a glass of water to you, which you took gladly before your eyes drifted up the extended arm up to see it was Rossi. You offered him a warm smile in appreciation. 
“Thanks.”
“I thought you might need it, all that running around.” You took a large gulp, almost finishing the drink. 
“That boy has too much energy.”  you motioned over to where he was now zigzagging between those closer the house, trying to engage whoever he could into a game of tag. Well, just as long as it wasn’t you. 
“So, where’s Aaron?” he asked, turning his attention back to you.
“He’s, at home. With Beth. For a romantic evening.” you jazzed up the romantic, trying to hide the turmoil in your stomach as you said it. 
He studied you for a moment, as if trying to figure you out. he appeared to come to a conclusion before leaning back in his seat. “So, you’ve been lumped with babysitting duty.”
“no, no, I volunteered.” you were still slightly out of breath. 
“Have you gone mad.” You both chuckled for a moment, before lulling back to silence, your attention once again returning to Jack, who had now managed to pull Spencer, Penelope, JJ and Will into his and Henry’s game of tag, whilst Derek and Alex watched on in amusement. 
“But really, I love spending time with Jack, and Aaron and Beth have hardly seen each other lately, it just seemed like the nice thing to do.”
“Well, it’s commendable.”
“Oh sure, except for the fact that I drove, so now I can’t get drunk.” You both laughed once more, again falling into a comfortable silence. But you couldn’t stop your thoughts from drifting back to Aaron and Beth. Luckily, you got a reprive from your spiralling thoughts when you saw Spencer fall to the floor, signalling the start of a major dogpile. 
                                                             *
By the time you and Jack got home it was late. Despite that, Jack still seemed to be full of energy, which astounded you. As you climbed the stairs of his apartment building the two of you hatched a plan. Jack wanted to prank his dad, still in a silly mood after the fun at Rossi’s. When you got to the door he jumped into your arms and laid his head on your shoulder, pretending to be asleep and you gently rapped on the door. 
You could hear Aaron walking closer through the door and Jack let out a soft giggle from your shoulder. You hushed him quickly, just before Aaron opened the door. He went to greet you but you quickly made shushing motions before gesturing to the sleeping Jack. He let you in, and just as you crossed the threshold jack popped up and shouted at his father. 
“Raaaah” Aaron jumped back, clutching his chest in fright before the three of you dissolved into giggles. Jack fell from your arms and run to his dad, who picked him up. 
“We got you dad!” Jack was grinning from ear to ear, clearly delighted with what he just did. A similar smile was found on both yours and Aaron’s faces as you both gazed at Jack, finding his excitement utterly adorable. 
“You sure did buddy! I’m surprised your still awake, it’s really late.” he looked towards you then, as if searching for clarification as to how Jack was still possibly awake.
“Don’t look at me! This ones been running around all evening playing tag with basically everyone and yet he’s still awake. I think I’m more tired than he is!” 
It was at this point that Jack let out his first yawn of the night, before he buried his head into Aaron’s neck, which caused both of you to chuckle.
“We should get you to bed mister.”
“Yeah, I should probably head off then...” 
“Wait,” Jack’s outcry stopped you in your tracks as you moved to leave, “I want (Y/N) to read me a story too.” You and Aaron looked at each other, silently debating how to proceed. You could tell he wanted to know what you thought from his eyes, so you shrugged. You wouldn't mind hanging out with Jack just a little longer, if Aaron was ok with it. 
“Sure, why not.” Jack slipped from Aaron’s arms, now running down the hallway to his bedroom, giggling gleefully to himself. Aaron turned to you, a smile on his face, waiting for you to show how you wanted to proceed. 
“lead the way Agent Hotchner.” you said, motioning down the hallway. He gestured to Beth on the couch, who you only now just realised was till there, to say he would only be  minute before heading down the corridor. You waved to Beth before following after him. You couldn’t help but notice the twinge of jealousy in her eyes as she regarded the two of you. 
                                                            *
Jack was snuggled up under his blanket having brushed his teeth and put his pj’s on. You and Aaron were knelt either side of the bed. Just before that Jack had carefully selected two books he wanted read to him. At first Aaron had protested, saying it was too late, but he just couldn't say no to that face too long. And so, you were now halfway though reading the second book as both Hotchner boys looked on at you with admiration, a look which you missed, being too wrapped up in perfectly delivering the story, with voices and facial expressions to match. 
As you wrapped up the story, both boys let out a small cheer. You played along and gave them a gracious bow, or as best you could on your knees. As Aaron finished tucking Jack into bed, placing a kiss on his forehead you got up from the floor and moved towards the door, ready to leave. Once again, a small “wait” from Jack stopped you in your tracks. 
“What is it bud?”
“I just wanted to say a proper thank you to (Y/N) for taking me to Uncle Rossi’s and getting to play with Henry.” 
“Ok,” Aaron got up from the floor, heading behind you to the door, “I’m just going to check on Beth.”
As he left, you knelt back down on the floor, leaning on Jacks bed. he lent towards you, a soft smile adorning his face. 
“Thank you (Y/N).”
“Hey, it’s no problem. It was really fun.” you ruffled his hair, returning his smile with one of your own. 
“Can we hang out again soon?” 
“I’m sure we can. Promise.” You both shared one more small smile before he lay back down. You pressed a quick kiss to his forehead before leaving the room and turning the light off. 
Walking down the corridor back to the living room, you could hear what sounded like hushed voices arguing. they seemed to peter out and stop as your footsteps grew louder, but there was no mistaking the tension in the atmosphere. 
“goodnight (Y/N). Aaron.” Beth turned swiftly on her heel and left the apartment, leaving the both of you stood in silence, you still processing the strange departure. 
“Is - is everything alright?” he stayed quiet for a moment longer before turning to you. 
“yes. Everthings fine. he slipped past you into the kitchen, leaving you stood awkwardly in the middle of the living room. 
“So, I should probably go.” you called out to him before moving to leave the same way Beth had. For the third time that night your attempt to leave was stopped by a Hotchner man calling “wait.” It seemed they couldn’t get enough of you. 
Rather than leaving through the front door you instead followed Aaron into the kitchen.  
“Look, I have an unopened bottle of wine left and I really don’t want to have to drink it alone.” you considered declining, but he looked defeated, his shoulders sagged slightly and his voice didn't just didn’t its usual spark. you decided you just couldn't leave him alone.  
“And here’s me completely sober.” You watched as he pulled two new wine glasses from the cupboard and filled each of them with a generous amount. he proffered one to you which you took gladly, happy to have something to do as you could still feel the tension from earlier. You both drank in silence for a moment, before you decided to break it. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” 
“Not really no.”
“Do you want to watch late night trashy TV and get drunk?” He let out a laugh that almost sounded like a sigh of relief before nodding. 
“That sounds like exactly what I need.” 
You found yourselves curled up on the sofa, reminiscent of many a night after his divorce. You both had been so close and when those divorce papers came through, you could see just how much it affected him, and all you wanted to do was to make him feel better. So, you both found you had an affinity for late night television and wine. It had helped then and it seemed to be helping now. before you knew it you were a bottle of wine down and definitely too drunk to drive. 
“Woah.” you wobbled at bit as you stood up, your joints cracking as you extricated yourself from the sofa. He reached out to steady you, his eyes studying you. 
“You are way too drunk to drive. Stay here tonight, I don't want any accidents on my hands. You can take my bed, I’ll take the couch.”
“No, Hotch, I’ll take the couch, I’ve done it enough times.” many of those late night sessions after the divorce had ended with you on this couch. Although, admittedly, some had ended with the both of you in the same bed. Strictly platonic, of course ,but sometimes he just found he couldn't be alone. 
“fine.” He went into his room and came back a few minutes later with a spare blanket and pillow and a pair of his joggers and a t-shirt. it was practically routine by now and the two of you were just falling back into it. you said goodnight and he went back into his room and you were left to fall into a restful sleep on the couch. 
                                                               *
tags:   @stonedxsoldier    
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