#anyway. sorry for the tag ramble wow. tldr; I Love Him A Lot

[baalzebufo]

finally got the hang of this guy :) ironed out my style and design for him. also wanted to draw some different emotions

you messed with the wrong bug

[emotionalcello-makefanfics]

Summary :

“Excuse me, I think you underestimate the power of your cute smile. Nuclear warheads from the east throughout the west got nothing on you.” After solving a case, a detective tried to flirt with a hard-faced FBI agent. It doesn't go smoothly, but that doesn't mean he's going to stop. - - - - - “Smile to me like that again then I might not survive the night,” Chris swoons, and the one blushing is somehow Hotch, “Have you not been flirted on before?” “Not as boldly and creative as you do.” “Well, get ready Hotch, because I’m just getting started.”

Sequel : That Body = Absolute Unit and Not Now, But Someday

No Warnings Applied

Click title to read on ao3. Click keep reading to read on tumblr~

Words : 4k

The case of man shredder is finally closed. After four long days of following chunks of bodies in the alleys, they finally caught the unsub. It was the longest day he had ever experienced, and he had walked behind a hundred-year-old lady on the subway stairs before.

Detective Hamlyn – Chris for friends and lovers of the night- huffed and undo his bulletproof vest when they finally return to his precinct while police officers contain the unsub. The police officers, him included, notify the victim’s family, and their reaction is just as expected. They did a little briefing and say good work and goodnight as they close the case and tidy up.

The B.A.U. team seems rightfully s tired but they looked relaxed as they take this case as a win, so does Chris. With that, he feels it’s the right time to ask.

“Hey, Emily?” he called the agent by her first name. The last four days, he’s been bonding with agent Prentiss the most, though his true attention has been towards someone else. His hand inconspicuously pulls back his already rolled-up sleeves. Rubbing his arms as his warm beige skin starts to look paler.

“What’s wrong?” The agent narrowed her perfectly twin eyebrows. Her concerned voice and body language were caught by her colleagues who are sending the two of them watchful looks.

Chris had learned by working with them how scary their knowledge is, almost borderline supernatural. It’s crazy, but damn do they work.

“Nothing’s wrong!” Chris exclaimed in low voice.

“You looked nervous.”

Chris is doing his super-duper poker face right now. Maybe he needs to rethink his life choices too.

“I’m just... okay...” Chris groaned and wing it, “I didn’t see any ring so I’ve been meaning to ask if-”

“Oh...” Emily, flutter her pretty long lashes and leans away, “Sorry Chris, I’m not looking.”

Chris gapes, with eyebrows reaching to his hairline, “I’m not asking about you Em, no offense, you cute, but I was asking about...” Chris looks right and left, purposely ignoring Emily’s shocked expression. Chris leans down a bit and whispered, “I wanna ask if Hotch is single.”

Emily visibly froze, while Chris looks into the conference room with the mirror board through the glass window. By the oval desk he prepared for the BAU team, Hotch is by the table, reading case files and putting them in the file box.

To be honest, older man is not his type, and his face wasn’t that high on his priority list too. But seeing the man in action made Chris feel things in his chest, his head, and at some inappropriate point, his crotch. Honest to the holy gods, they were serious and focused on the job, and there was no romantic moment at all, but Chris is not the one holding the joystick to control who his heart rebels for.

SSA Aaron Hotchner, a man of few words, and a hard face. He doesn’t know how much suit and dress shirt the man brings but it seems like he’s been wearing the same black suit, and the same maroon tie with small dots and the same thin striped dress shirt.

In all the four days he’s here, never once did Chris ever seen him smile, not even a quirk upwards. His raven hair loosely coiffed, and eyes dark and deep and it just looks like two black holes with no end. They seem cold, devoice of emotion, but Chris knows that’s not true.

Under the light of day, when he tagged along with the unit chief to do a door to door interview, he saw the light hits his black irises. As they were concluding what they learned from the interviews, all that Chris can focus on is the light tint of olive green in Hotch’s eyes. Then slowly but surely, those sharp dark deep-set eyes pierce through his soul.

There’s more to that man than what he gave an impression of. Chris has been there as the man gives clear and cut-throat instruction, but at the same time considerate. Hotch is efficient, looks like a hard worker, respected by his team, but sometimes, when Hotch was all by himself, Chris can see how tired the man is. Even so, right now, the man just quirks up the tiniest smile as he looks into the missing teenager they saved.

His heart just stopped right there and then. A glint of light shines from his dark aura. Chris knows... oh he just knows he needs to get closer... He’s never been drawn to something this hard since he saw an authentic leather cowboy pants 20% off on Amazon

Maybe Chris just has a thing for mysterious emo boys? Well, not exactly mysterious emo boys. More like a stoic man, with a lot of baggage because of the emotionally draining job.

It helps that Hotch is dashingly handsome, and in contrast to his looks, Aaron is such a cute and boyish name.

TLDR: Chris is feeling some burning desire for the tall, dark and handsome FBI agent.

“Chris?” Emily snaps her fingers in front of his face, “Wow, you’re really whipped for my boss huh?”

“Am I? What does your profile say?” Chris tips his chin confidently.

“Well, in this case, your demeanor screams playboy, and you flirt with girls if she spares you even the tiniest spark of interest, but you don’t do casual relationship. You believe in love at first sight, you’re a naive romantic, but you’re persistent, patient, and you follow your gut. Now, your gut is pulling you right there,” Emily cocks her head towards her boss.

Chris cocks his head to the side with a smirk, “That never gets old, what you do is just so cool.”

“It can get annoying, I can profile what you google with incognito.”

Chris sweats, “Wait you can do that?”

The agent cracks a wide smile, “No, not with I’ve got so far.” Chris chuckled nervously and wipes his non-existent sweat on his temple.

“So,” his eyes are back on Hotch, unconsciously sweeping his dark chocolate hair back, “what are my chances?”

“Hotch was married once, and he just broke up with his girlfriend. That’s all I’m telling you.”

“Oof, total hetero huh? Not just that, everything he does is classic alpha male behavior.”

“That’s what I said too.”

“Fuck Jesus!” Chris spaz at Dr. Reid’s voice suddenly came from behind him. And as sudden as he says that, he’s gone just as fast, making a beeline to the coffee maker.

“Hotch is far from Jesus though, hair ain’t quite the same. And I never met Jesus, but I bet his skin is a bit more glowy, and you know, healthy,” Emily teased.

Chris spent a few seconds staring at Emily like she’s crazy, and then realized he’s the crazy one.

“You know what, I’m just gonna go for it,” Chris takes a deep breath. Tidying his navy dress shirt and makes sure his black fit jean isn’t crooked and his combat boots have no dirt on them. As he deemed himself presentable, he marches forward.

“Go for it tiger, good luck.” Emily cheers and Chris highly appreciates that more than Emily knows, heck maybe she does knows.

Heh, profilers. Oh, but Hotch is a profiler too. Damn, maybe he’ll know his intention just by a knock or something.

Here he goes anyway.

Chris knocks on the open door, catching Hotch’s attention, “Good work today.”

“You too, Detective Hamlyn,” Hotch nods, still no smile, “You’re cooperative, we hardly have any captain that do.”

“Yikes, I take it you’ve seen a lot worse?”

“Yes.”

Hotch stops tidying up the table and looks at Chris. Time stopped as his dark eyes investigate his micro-expression, but what Chris cared for the most right now is how pretty Hotch’s bottom lashes are. They’re short but full and intensely black, they go completely from one corner to the other.

“It’s nice meeting with you,” the older man said with a respecting and platonic nod as he continues to file.

Ouch, that’s worse than being rejected, being dismissed with a detached professional reply. Chris needs to be bolder.

“Yeah, nice meeting you too,” Chris takes a deep breath, “But you know... DC to Quantico is easily an hour train ride away, so it doesn’t have to be our last meeting.”

There’s a horse running in his chest, puncturing his heart with its hooves. Oh, and the look on Hotch’s face. He bet there’s a lot of murders and creepy bastards he takes on and he won’t even blink an eye, but now, Hotch blinks owlishly with his lips parted.

It doesn’t take a profiler for someone to know what Chris is implying.

“I...” Hotch looks away.

Oh no, it’s a dragged ‘I...’ means Hotch is about to reject him and currently trying to find the mercifully right word to do so, then they’ll never see each other again, like ever.

Time for bold tactic number 2.

“Look, even if you’re not interested, you’re a cool dude. I admire what you do, to face hundreds of sociopathic sexual sadist white males in his 30’s and still have your cool. Or maybe you’re trying to seem you look cool? I don’t know man I can’t really read any of you. I just... think you’re awesome and I want to get to know you. I swear I’m not up to something creepy. God, I’m rambling I’m sorry I’m nervous. Just um...” Chris takes a business card from the cardholder on his belt, and slide it towards the stunned agent.

“I’m down to hangout. If you’re tired of looking at the same face every day” Chris cocks his head towards the glass window, “Don’t hesitate to call, I don’t mind the train ride.”

Hesitantly, Hotch takes the card and inspect it. Chris had never felt this naked because a man looking so thoroughly at his business card.

“I knew Chris is not your full first name,” Hotch states, still with a stoic face. Emily could’ve profiled that, but Chris is not one and he doesn’t know what that reaction means.

“Nope, my real name is a tongue twister, so I just go by Chris,” he replies, like a normal person. He counts that as a success.

“How do you say your name?”

“Kristianto.”

Upon hearing it, Hotch doesn’t even bother to try, and Chris fully understands, “Malaysian?”

“Indonesian, on my mother’s side. Basically means Christian.”

Then Hotch stares to the card again, and Chris starts sweating. Should he escape now? Be like ‘okay call me maybe, bye’?

Then Hotch puts his card in his breast pocket and goes back to cleaning up the files.

“I’m busy most of the time, I don’t have a lot of free time,” Hotch’s voice drops low but soft like expensive faux fur and gentle as if meek.

“Duh, I can see that. I mean, as long as I get to see or hear from you, just a call or meeting for a short break, I don’t care, I’m down to do whatever you want.”

The look on Hotch's face is as if no one had ever said that before. Whoever was his wife or girlfriend, must’ve been the one pampered and forgot to pamper him back. Lucky for both of them, that’s his specialty. He’s not a people pleaser, but for Hotch? Boy does he want to please this man and show him a good time. That off-guard face he’s making just because Chris says something basic is the one that does it.

Chris, the casually pessimistic sanguine, now feel either optimistic or desperate enough to go anywhere this dreamboat is willing to sail him to.

“Really? Whatever I want?” Hotch, despite sounding monotone, looks actually excited. That just adds oil to his running engine.

“Yeah! I’m up until 2 am and woke up at 7 if you want to call me. My yelp game is strong so I can take you to the best restaurant and hangout spots around. If you want a chill daaa-I mean hangout! Yeah, if you want a chill hangout, I cook a mean chilly I learned from Binging with Babi-” Chris got choked up because of the sight behold in his humble presence.

Hotch smiles, at him. At him.

“Oh god...” Chris wobbles and quickly get a hold of the table.

“What’s wrong,” Hotch grabbed his arms. Repeat, Hotch is touching him. His grip is so strong he wants to be wrap in it and—now is not the time!

“No, nothing.” Chris dismissed, badly, as he awkwardly smiles like a creep and shifting his eyes anywhere else other than Hotch’s face.

“It doesn’t seem like nothing.”

“Profile me then,” Chris challenged out of desperation.

He got his poker face on, there’s no way the man knows.

“You reacted like this because I smiled.”

Why did Chris even try?

Chris doesn’t take kindly when Hotch looks at him incredulously after knowing that fact, “Excuse me, I think you underestimate the power of your cute smile. Nuclear warheads from the east throughout the west got nothing on you.”

Hotch smiles again, complete with a soft little scoff for extra damage. If that’s not a green light, then that little cheeky grin is too cruel.

“I’ve heard a few comments on my look, cute is never one of them,” Hotch admits.

“They either blind or have poor taste. Yes, your eyes are carrying shopping bags-”

“Hamlyn,” Hotch scolds half-heartedly.

“But they’re your charm! And-” Chris felt his brain scrambles like someone stuck a fork in it and spins it around like noodle in a cup of brain juice.

“Look,” Chris said, more to himself actually, “I don’t actually care how you look, or how sexy your voice is, dammit,” Chris lowly curse under his breath. “As you can see, I’m rusty.”

“You don’t say,” Hotch teased and seems to be having genuine fun, it’s not a sight for the faint of heart.

Smiling shyly, Chris glances at his boots, “Cut me some slack. I never actually approach someone like this. I draw the line on people I work with, but I really really like you, and I’ll be damned if I see you go without trying to at least get your number.”

The sharpness in Hotch’s piercing black eyes mellows. The wrinkles between his eyebrows are finally catching a break. With a loud thump on the files, Hotch is finally finished putting out the files on the table.

“What about now?” Hotch's suddenly said.

“What the what now?”

“I’m up for a drink, maybe a light snack.”

Chris short-circuit into oblivion. This is it. This is the shit man, pull it together!

“I... yeah! Sure! I know just the place.”

“Will it still be open this late?”

“It’s 24 hours, homebrewed beer, and the fried pickle is to die for.”

“That sounds nice,” Hotch sounded genuinely taken by surprise, he looks down to his watch, and he must’ve only noticed then that it’s 1 am, “I hope you’re not too tired.”

“No way, you just made me feel like I’m swimming in meth, not the best metaphor but yeah, you get it. I feel like I chugged a glass of liquid heroin, wait that’s not better. I swear I don’t have a drug problem.”

Then, honest to God, Hotch laughed. Not like the lame ‘haha’ chuckle no. A full laugh with a hand on top of his chest, and breathing shortly and eyes crinkled shut. This man has the ability to destroy him completely and Chris is so doomed. Oh so gladly doomed.

“Thank you,” Hotch said when he finally calmed down.

Chris doesn’t know what to think about when a man has to thank him for making him laugh. He’s glad though that Hotch doesn’t think he’s boring, or too forward, or even offending, god it was his biggest fear. Maybe this will go somewhere good.

“I’m done cleaning up,” Hotch notified.

“Great, let’s go, it’s a walking distance.”

“Perfect.”

Hotch grabbed his bag, and they walk out of the glass conference room. Only then he noticed Hotch’s team was huddled over together with watchful eyes directed at them. Most of the officers had already gone home and a few of the night shift officers already arrived.

“Hey, Hotch, ready to jet?” Agent Morgan called over. Hotch approaches them and Chris follows suit after grabbing his bag from his desk, keeping his jittering under the radar, hopefully.

“You guys go on ahead, I’ll fly by morning,” Hotch informed. This is the first time Chris sees his team seemingly suspicious of their leader’s decision. But honestly? So does Chris. One more day? For an outing with Chris? He hoped he’s not visibly blushing.

“What will you be doing?” Emily teased, looking pointedly at Chris who stuck a tongue at her.

“I have a date with Detective Hamlyn, goodnight everyone.”

Hotch turns around and walks away, leaving his team with jaws on the floor. No less Chris, who looks at Hotch’s back, then back to the five agents in front of him. He felt the eyes of five hyenas that looks at him sharply like he just killed their cubs or something. No words needed to know these people care about Hotch.

“I-It’s nice working with you guys?” Chris cleared his throat, “I’ll bring him back safely,” but that’s the wrong thing to say. He’s not taking out someone’s daughter for god sake.

“He’s waiting kid, chop-chop” Agent Rossi, his idol since he was in the academy, just ‘chop-chop’ him.

No need to tell him twice, “Goodnight!” then speedwalk towards Hotch.

Before the man even holds the knob to the front door, Chris hurries to open the door for him, instinctually. Given, Hotch looks stunned yet again.

“After you, my sir,” Chris bows and waves his hands towards the road.

“You do this to all your dates?” Hotch shakes his head amusedly.

“Yes, and it’ll gonna get worse,” chirped the old security guard, who gave him a side-eye and a held back smile.

“Sammy!” Chris put a hand on his navy dress shirt, “How could you, you know me better than that. I’m a gentleman to the core.”

The old man just chuckles and waves at the two men,  “You guys have fun!”

“Goodnight sir,” Hotch nods at the man and walk down the side road with him.

After a few seconds walking and stealing glances, Chris finally says, “You’re an open book to your colleague, eh?”

“They already know you’re asking me out.”

“Yeah, but they didn’t know you accept.”

“Really?” Hotch smirked and Chris gapes.

“You sneaky sneaky tease!” Chris exclaimed.

Hotch smiles again, showing his slightly crooked teeth on the bottom row. Suddenly the late night air doesn’t feel too chilly anymore.

“First time on a date with a guy?” Chris asked.

“Yes, you?”

“No, I think I went out three times with a guy, dated one, which only lasts like a few months.”

“Huh, your reputation serves you.”

“Hey, no! I’m always the one broke up on.”

Hotch quirks up the corner of his lips, “I know.”

“Smile to me like that again then I might not survive the night,” Chris swoons, and the one blushing is somehow Hotch. “Have you not been flirted on before?”

“Not as boldly and creative as you do.”

“Well, get ready Hotch, because I’m just getting started.”

“Aaron, please. I’m off duty.”

Chris bites his lips from the smile threatening to form, “Okay, Aaron. Then call me Chris.”

The rigid and stern unit chief is finally enjoying himself as they carry themselves easy through the late city night. It helped that the bar is only filled to half that night. Most patrons are office workers with their buddies just gathering up to unwind. The bartender of the night shift is an old friend of Chris and he gave them a seat on the bar. The tv, people chatting and playing pool sets as a throughout mood.

They spent the night hanging out with cold craft beers and two servings of fried pickles, talking about anything and everything. Like the 4-days old news, because they pay no attention to anything else when chasing their criminal. What their plans for the weekends are, or their plans when they go home. Chris is planning to put a sheet mask, takes a long warm bath and sleeps as much as he can as he needs to work tomorrow.  Horrifyingly, Aaron’s plan when he goes home is to work on a report.

After some persuading, lowkey begging, and a few embarrassing nicknames later, Aaron promised he’ll sleep first before touching those reports.

It’s noticeable how they edge away from personal topics like family, but Chris is fine with that. It’s only the first date after all. Even as they talk about pity things like their favorite foods and embarrassing university days, the air is comfortable.

He also learned that Aaron is not that much older than him, only by three years.

Boy, how many sleepless nights and emotional baggage did Hotch carry inside those eye bags Whether or not they’ll be an item, Chris is determined to make Hotch sleep more, or at least introduce him to sunscreen.

At 5 am, Chris drives Hotch to his hotel, and stops by the lobby entrance.

“I have a great time tonight,” the older man says, with smiling eyes murdering Chris with suffocation by handsomeness.

“Me too.” He was about to say something else, but he held back. He doesn’t want to push Hotch even further from his comfort zone.

“I’ll call,” Hotch’s words came to the rescue, and Chris is back from the dead and walks the earth again.

There’s a stupid smile on Chris’ face right now, and he’s showing it all.

“Okay, I’ll hold you to that.”

Hotch opens the door before his feet even touch the asphalt below he retracts and closes the door back. A hand planted on the side of his seat and a hand frames his face, that happened so fast, but when Aaron has himself in his merciful hand, he slows down as if he hesitated.

To proof there’s nothing to hesitate about, Chris caresses the back of Aaron’s neck and pulls him close. Chris doesn’t see Aaron close his eyes when he closes his, but the man doesn’t move away. His heart jumps out of his rib cage when he feels the warm lips on top of his. Aaron still tastes strongly of yeast from the beer with a tinge of saltiness from the fried pickle.

When Chris breaths in, he smelt a tinge of perfume blending with the smell of beer. The lips pressed against him nibbles on his, leaning even closer as Aaron’s hand plays with his hair.  He can’t help the smile on his lips at the ticklish feeling on his scalp.

For a split second of their kiss, they let themselves be. He lets Aaron takes whatever he wants, no matter how little.  

When Aaron finally breaks the kiss first, they stay in a close space.

“Thank you for tonight’s date,” Aaron whispered against his lips, and Chris finally has the gut to look into Hotch’s eyes.

How mysterious are those eyes. At first sight, it’s black, only when he’s this close and the light is right, he could see the slight low saturated green on his eyes. It obliterates his heart how much Aaron seems like he’s happy. It’s an honor but, Aaron treats it like it’s the first in a long time.

It’s only a date, but it’s starting to feel less superficial.

Maybe that won’t be such a bad thing.

“Your welcome, Aaron. Anytime. I mean it,” Chris hesitantly touch  Hotch’s face, rubbing the soft wrinkles on the tail of his eye with his thumb.

Thank coincidence it’s 4 AM. They’re really taking their time in front of the lobby entrance, but no one is behind them. Still, one of them has to end the night, they got work tomorrow.

“You promised you’ll sleep first right?” Chris says.

“I promise,” Hotch replies, and he finally leans back, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Aaron slips out of his car and walks to the lobby. Even then, Aaron took his time to look back and waves as Chris drove away.

The smile on his face sticks until he falls asleep.

It’s a good night indeed.