Hotchniss One-Shots

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"Can you stay on your side of the bed"

"My side of the bed? What do you mean my side" Emily smiled to herself

"I mean" he stopped and turned to his side to look at her
"That you are sleeping in the middle of the bed with your feet hanging over me"

"I don't know what your talking about" she teased moving slightly closer to him. With an annoyed huff he turned his back to her which only made things worse for him. Playing along Emily huffed in a mocking manner and turned on her side, waiting for a minute or two she slowly inched closed and lifted the waistband of his pyjama pants to tuck her icy feet against his back and ass.

"Oh for the love of God" he growled rolling onto her and pinning her hands against the headboard

"Hi" Emily smiled up at him as she batted her eyelashes
"You're on my side of the bed"

He froze for a moment, his stern expression slipping just enough to betray his amusement. "I'm... aware," he said, though his voice was softer, almost reluctant.

Emily tilted her head, her grin widening. "Aware? That sounds suspiciously like an invitation to stay."

Hotch huffed, rolling onto his side so he was facing her, the small distance between them charged with unspoken words. "Don't test me, Prentiss."

"Oh, I'm not testing," she murmured, her voice low, teasing. "I'm... helping you adjust to sharing the bed properly."

He tried not to smile, but the corner of his mouth betrayed him. "Sharing the bed is not a problem," he said, though his hands unconsciously shifted to keep her from inching closer.

Emily's eyes sparkled, and she nudged him gently with her shoulder. "Good. Then we agree."

For a moment, silence fell, punctuated only by their quiet breaths. Then, as if by mutual understanding, they leaned just slightly closer—foreheads almost touching, fingers brushing. Hotch's usual composure wavered, but he didn't pull away.

"Fine," he whispered, his voice rougher than intended. "You can... stay. Just... stay on your side."

Emily laughed softly, warm and victorious, curling up beside him. "Deal. But don't think I won't move closer if you snore."

Hotch let out a resigned sigh, but his hand found hers, squeezing gently. "Then I guess I'll just have to... tolerate it."

And for the first time that night, with the world outside forgotten, they let themselves stay exactly where they were—side by side, teasing, close, and perfectly, dangerously... together.

Emily shifted slightly, her knee brushing against Aaron's thigh, and he tensed for a heartbeat before realizing he didn't want her to move away. She caught the tiny exhale, the subtle acknowledgment, and smiled to herself.

"You know," she murmured, her voice low, "this is kind of nice. Just... quiet. No cases, no chaos."

Aaron turned his head just enough to look at her, his expression softer than usual. "I suppose... quiet has its merits," he said, keeping his tone carefully neutral, though the faint curve of his mouth betrayed him.

Emily's fingers brushed against his arm. "You're awfully stiff," she teased. "For someone who claims to enjoy quiet."

"I'm... cautious," he admitted, his gaze meeting hers for a brief, intense moment. "I've learned to be... careful."

"Careful," she repeated, leaning just a fraction closer. "Doesn't mean you can't... enjoy it." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Aaron's jaw tightened, then loosened, and he let out a small, reluctant laugh. "I... suppose you're right."

Slowly, deliberately, Emily rested her head against his shoulder. He froze for half a heartbeat, then shifted just enough to accommodate her, his arm brushing against hers. Neither pulled away.

"You're unusually quiet," she murmured, her voice barely above the hum of the night outside. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm... thinking," he replied, eyes forward, staring at the ceiling but feeling her warmth beside him. He would never admit it aloud, but there was a certain... ease in having Emily so close. Someone he trusted implicitly, someone who knew him well enough to push boundaries without overstepping.

Emily let out a quiet, teasing hum, pressing just slightly closer, her shoulder brushing his. "Thinking about me?" she asked softly, letting the question hang in the air.

Aaron's jaw ticked, and he gave a short, clipped laugh. "Don't flatter yourself," he said, but there was no edge in his tone—just a quiet acknowledgment of her presence, of how natural it felt to have her here.

Emily tilted her head, studying him. The familiar stoicism in his face softened in the dim light, and her heart thumped in a way that made her grin. "You're lying," she whispered.

"I... might be," he admitted finally, letting the words slip out like a confession. The sound of it—the quiet honesty mixed with restraint—made her chest flutter.

She reached up, daring, brushing her fingers along the side of his jaw. Aaron froze at the touch, his usual control faltering, just for a second. She leaned closer, resting her forehead against his shoulder this time, eyes closed, savoring the quiet intimacy.

"You know," she murmured, "we spend so much time running from danger, dealing with the worst... I like it when it's just like this. Simple. Normal. Just us."

Aaron's lips twitched. "Normal..." he repeated, the word strange and heavy, but not unwelcome. He shifted, letting his arm rest over her shoulders in a protective, tentative gesture. "I... agree. This is... good."

A few moments passed in silence, the kind that didn't feel empty but charged with unspoken feelings. Emily let her fingers trace lazy patterns on his arm, feeling him relax under her touch. He didn't say anything, just let her. Let her be close. And that was enough.

Finally, she lifted her eyes to meet his, catching that rare softness in his gaze that he only showed to a select few. "Aaron," she said quietly, her voice intimate, teasing, and vulnerable all at once. "You know you could stay like this forever, right? With me right here?"

Aaron's throat tightened. He wanted to argue, to maintain the rigid control he always carried—but her closeness, her warmth, and that subtle teasing smile made him pause. His hand moved to rest on hers, fingers curling around hers gently.

"I... could," he said finally, his voice low, almost a whisper. "If... if you want me to."

Emily's grin softened, turning into a gentle smile, and she leaned up to press a quick, tentative kiss to his jaw. "Good," she murmured, nuzzling against him again. "Because I do."

Aaron exhaled softly, a rare, unguarded sound. He shifted just slightly so their bodies were even closer, letting her rest her head against his chest. Her hand stayed in his, small and warm, a reminder that maybe... sometimes, it was okay to let go. To let someone in.

The night stretched on, but neither moved away. Outside the world could wait. The office, the cases, the chaos—they all faded. There was only the quiet hum of the night, the steady beat of Aaron's heart beneath her cheek, and the faintest, most dangerous thing of all: a shared sense of closeness that neither wanted to break.

For once, Aaron allowed himself to just exist in that small, fragile bubble with Emily. Side by side, teasing, intimate, and perfectly, dangerously... together.

And maybe, just maybe... it was enough.

Author's note: I'm back!!!!!