Greek Pottery.

Greek pottery.

thank you for reading!! it started as a full on Spencer fic and the Hotch showed up and I'm only human 🫰

two slow dancers, last ones out

Summary: Unrequited love and a wedding are not a good match, but a luckily you have someone there to keep you company.

2k words

The wedding fell into place like a house of cards tumbling down, in a rush and without much fanfare. JJs dress was lovely, because of course it was, a sea of ivory white twinkling almost as bright as her smile against the placid night air. Everyone was able to make it and despite it being planned with just a few hours to spare the night was as beautiful as one would hope. Beginning of spring ushering a new chapter and all that nonsense. 

Not that you were bitter about it. 

At all. 

Or at the very least you were trying really hard not to be, because they were a lovely couple. Will loved JJ, and JJ loved Will. 

The issue was that Spencer also seemed to love JJ. 

Again, not that you were bitter about it. 

After months of quiet pinning and frustrated yet unreciprocated glances you had called it quits, because it seemed like no matter how many 18th century poetry readings you attended with him, no matter how many early morning car rides or late nights spent talking in hushed tones side by side on the plane, you were simply never going to be the one he wanted. 

And you had come to terms with it. 

Really. 

The fresh heartbreak had been ushered out and been replaced by humiliation a long time ago, looking back you were sure everyone could tell how stupidly in love you had been and how utterly un-reciprocated it was. Every time you remembered how optimistic and doe eyed you had been about the whole thing, something bright and hot burned in the back of your eyes. It was all just so painfully juvenile and you swore you had left the doe eyes behind alongside your cheer uniform and locker combination. 

The night had an air of finality to it, you knew that in one way or another nothing would be the same again, and you didn’t want to miss it. Even if it meant swallowing your pride and staying with the wallflowers until closing time. 

It would have been easier to do an irish goodbye to the italian planned wedding and slip quietly out the front door but you saw Emily sharing a last dance with Derek and even spied Rossi watching over his hard word with suspiciously misty eyes and you knew you had to stay. 

With one hand wrapped over your midriff and the other held aloft, nursing a now lukewarm aperol spritz by the side of the dance floor, looking at everyone swaying to some old jazz ballad, the singer's soft crooning voice setting your teeth on edge. The feel of a drop of condensation traveling from  your hand through your forearm sending a chill down your spine. 

The gentle weight of a black jacket being draped over your shoulders snaps you out of your pathetic melancholy, the wedding suddenly snapping into sharp focus as the heady scent of a woody cologne blankets you. Two big hands softly squeeze your shoulders in a silent apology before Aaron Hotchner appears next to you, leaning against one of the white columns with his hands in his pockets. 

He scrutinizes you with clever brown eyes, his gaze softly traveling from your pursed lips to your down-turned brows and you know he’s got your number when he gives you a soft sympathetic smile. Just a quick turn of his lips that few people would catch, but you did, and the knowledge that he knows exactly what’s going on through your head makes you feel exposed all of the sudden, you slip your arms into the jack and clutch it to you like it could keep you hidden. 

But Hotch is … Hotch simply put and you know above all he would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. So he remains quiet next to you, only moving to press his side against you in silent comradery, the comforting heat radiating off of him seeping into you.  

“Want me to get you another one?” He asks, gesturing to your long forgotten drink. “It’s not often we get to free reign of Dave’s stash” You know he’s trying to cheer you up and you both know it’s failing miserably but you still appreciate the effort nonetheless. 

An awkward sort of silence falls between you both until you decide to ruin it, apparently. 

“So, where’s Beth?” Your question catches him off guard, he clears his throat and looks down for a second before catching your eyes. 

“We broke up, last week actually” He states matter of fact. You nod understandingly and don’t ask but he clarifies anyhow. 

“It was mutual, she had a lot going on at work-”

“Huh, go figure”

“and I was” he hesitates “preoccupied” He doesn’t seem to be distraught, telling you like he would the details of a case, objective and to the point. 

“Ahh, so you decided to join the singles corner, welcome we meet every Thursday” You raise your glass in a mock toast before finally putting it down on a nearby table. 

Hotch raises his eyebrows and it’s all it takes for you to deflate. 

“Sorry, you were being nice and I was just bitchy” You sigh, frustrated and maybe a little bit tipsier than you’d like. 

“That’s okay, you’re sad, it happens to the best of us”

“Even you?” 

He just lets out a self deprecating laugh before handing you a glass of scotch from a passing waiter. 

“You saw me after the divorce, I distinctly remember going into a burning house so I would say a couple of drinks more than you’re used to at a wedding of all places isn’t the worst way to go about it” 

“That’s different, you were married this is just…pathetic” There was no point dancing around it anyway, you both knew he was fully aware of what you were talking about. 

“Well someone once told me that as much as we’d like to, sometimes we have to sit in those feelings before they can go away” 

“What a load of new age shit, whoever told you that was a quack” You smile at him anyway, pleased that even after all this time he remembered that. 

“Hmm, I happen to think it was useful,” Hotch replies, taking the scotch from your hand and finishing it off. 

“Any more pearls of wisdom this oh so sage one imparted upon you?”

“Yes, other times the only thing you can do is pretend that everything is alright for a couple of minutes” He says, extending his hand towards you and gesturing towards the dance floor “what do you say?” 

“You should stop listening to her” You reply but still accept, his hand engulfing yours as he expertly leads you through a sea of couples until you’re far enough that you can’t really see anyone else from your team. 

He takes you into his arms, one goes to your back and the other takes you hand into his ,you're still wearing his jacket so you just rest your head against his chest and close your eyes. 

“...so” You say softly, your words muffled against his shirt. With your eyes closed and your head resting against his chest, you’ve given up dancing and are just content to be cocooned in his arms while he gently sways you both to the tune of the music. Whatever is playing now has long faded to the edge of your conscience, sounding far away. 

“Have you ever considered doing all of this again?” 

“Getting married?” This close together his voice reverberates pleasantly through your whole body, it feels as if you’ve both stepped into someone else’s wedding and you know each other here. 

“Yeah”

“What, you had your turn in the hot seat and now it’s my turn?”

“Yeah” 

After a beat he says admits it so softly that you have to strain to hear him properly

“I would have wanted to”

He had long ago decided to settle for the life he had, being a father had to come first, the rest was something he no longer got to want. Or something he wouldn’t admit he still wanted anyway. 

You raise your head briefly to look up at him, his tone sobering you up, because you know him, know what he meant. If you had looked just behind Hotch towards the other edge of the dance floor you would have caught Spencer's inquisitive gaze or Penelopes’ delighted one. But you don’t, you’re laser focused on Hotch searching in his eyes for something you can’t quite grasp, a way to convey that he needs to stop atoning for something he shouldn’t fault himself for in the first place. 

You fist your hands on the front of his shirt briefly before smoothing out the wrinkles with your palms.

“I didn’t ask about before, I’m asking about you now” 

“It’s not that easy” 

“It’s a yes or no question, so yes it actually is” 

He tilts his head back in frustration, looking up at the night sky like he’ll find the exact words he wants to use spelled for him. 

“That’s not something I get to want anymore” “You can’t punish yourself forever” 

He begins to say something but you cut him off before he can, his hands tightening around your waist

“Nor should you try” He gulps and looks away giving in “think whatever you want to think but I know you and I think you deserve to be happy again” 

“I thought you said I shouldn’t listen to you” 

“Momentary lapse in judgment”  You reply with a teasing smile, not wanting to fully fuck up his night “so?” 

“...Yes”   Somehow the admission of desire feels like a betrayal and a confession at the same time. Both freeing and terrifying. 

 You go back to swaying together, in sync with one another and standing out against the livelier rhythm of the couples around you. 

From this vantage point you study his profile, from his strong nose to his thick lashes and back to his jaw. You never really paid attention to him but right now under the tea lights it dawns on you how handsome he is. 

“What about you?” 

“Oh I’m joining a convent” He chuckles and you feel it move through you. It’s a rare sound nowadays. 

“You’ll find someone” Hotch says with a certainty you wished you could have

“That’s just what you say to make people feel better, it’s up there with yes those bangs look great on you or like when you tell little kids that they can be astronauts or whatever” 

“I know you’ll find someone because I don’t think anyone could meet you and not realize how extraordinary you are” He says in an almost whisper. 

“There is someone who, categorically, doesn’t realize it, in this very same room” 

“Could be he didn’t know you as well as you’d think”

“Could be” You concede. 

Some time has passed now, although you can’t pinpoint exactly how long, it feels like the rest of the world went quiet and this is all that’s left. The sweet honeyed lilies, fresh jasmines and heady sweet daffodils of the garden are in full bloom. The night sweetly perfumed as the petals gently swayed to and fro.

From across the garden you can see JJ slow dance with Will, he’s saying something to her and she’s all smiles.  You let your humiliation melt into fondness, the warmth you felt for her pulling you out of your melancholy. New beginnings and all that. 

Pet portrait commission for Jocelyn.

Shows on the roster:

- Breaking Bad (currently in it)

- The Wire

- Sex and the City

- Game of Thrones / House of the Dragon (yes it's not good I'm still determined to finish both)

- Last season of stranger things

- Sharp objects

- Derry Girls

I can't keep picking up books and quitting a hundred pages in to start another one. Especially because I want to do a horror marathon in October, so I think my current reading list kinda has to be:

- Klara and the Sun

- Haunting of Hill House

- My dark Vanessa

- A little life (undecided if I'm actually going to keep reading this one tho, I have my limits)

- A Game of Thrones

Adenorah

my dog is being scolded for trying to eat a bee and my mom keeps talking to her like she's a toddler who gets what she's saying