Work Text:
There was something special about being in a town that makes a big deal out of Christmas. Sure, you were on a case and you’d prefer to be at home in your own home, with your own bedsheets and your family local, but at least you could keep in the spirit of the season while you were working. As much as was appropriate anyway. For now, the case was closed, but there was some maintanence being done on the jet, so you had time to relax. Real downtime, in a new place, and of course your first suggestion had been to go to the local winter market.
Initially, you’d invited the entire time, after all it was so rare to have downtime together and you may as well stay together so you could all get to the jet once it was fixed up. Hotch had agreed to go with you first, and after that the others had all seemingly come up with other things to do. JJ wanted to chat more with the local PD and make sure everything was smoothed over, Spencer had a call with his mom planned that he didn’t want to miss, Emily was going to go wine shopping with Rossi. It was all a little strange, but you didn’t comment. Hotch was company enough for a trip to the market.
The wind was bitingly cold, whipping against your skin like a slap with each gust. It made your face sting, your fingers becoming stiffer. It wasn’t snowing currently, but snow had fallen in the prior days and still lingered at your feet. It only added to the atmosphere, in your opinion. Seeing the little wooden stalls covered in a thin layer of snow, the stall keepers wrapped up in scarves and gloves, breath escaping visibly. It all just felt like the holidays. Hotch walked beside you, seemingly unaffected by the weather, at least at first sight.
“Is there anything in particular you wanted to look at?” He asked, voice softer than it was when you were working, gentler, something reserved for the more peaceful moments.
“I just thought it would be nice to browse while we had free time.” You replied with a simple shrug, and Hotch hummed with a nod.
“Well, go ahead. I’ll follow your lead.” You browsed slowly, looking at the contents of each stall one by one. When you passed by a food stand, you both indulged in warm drinks to help fend against the weather. There was a myriad of sellers, and even some game stands (none of which either of you planned on playing, because they were a scam quite frankly). You also chose to indulge in buying yourself a hand made ornament for your tree back home, as a souvenir.
Your empty drinks were tossed out, and you sat on a bench watching locals ice skate, just to pass the time. It was nice, quiet, peaceful. And really fucking cold. You couldn’t help shuddering as the wind blustered by again, nipping gently at your nose as it passed.
“Are you cold?” Hotch asked, looking at you with brows slightly furrowed.
“Of course I am, it’s baltic out here.” You said back with a soft laugh.
“Is your coat not warm enough?”
“Apparently not.” He hummed with disapproval and reached to take one of your hands in his without hesitation, inspecting your fingers, and testing their warmth in his.
“Come here.” He said, softer even than before, but before you could ask what he meant, ‘come where?’ had been your first thought, he’d pulled your hand into his coat pocket alongside your own. You were stunned for a moment, staring at your hand in his pocket, then up at his face.
“Hotch-”
“Is that better?” He asked, his fingers wrapping gently around your smaller hand, encasing it in the warmth he’d managed to gather for himself. You blinked slowly, still processing, then laughed.
“Yeah, actually. For one hand anyway.” He raised a brow at your comment, then stood and pulled you with him. You didn’t have a chance to question him before he’d taken your other hand and sipped it into his other pocket, leaving the two of you chest to chest.
“And now both hands can be warm.”
It was such a simple statement for how intense the moment felt. You were so close that it wasn’t just your hands warming in his pockets, but also your chest against his, your face with his breaths against it. There was a moment where neither of you spoke, just staring at each other as your hearts thudded loudly, the noise of the market around you fading away until all you could hear was the beating of your own heart.
Then someone tapped your shoulder.
You turned in their direction to find a stranger, and when they pointed upwards, your stomach dropped. Surely not? But then you heard Hotch laugh, and you knew. You looked up, finding mistletoe above you. There was no way you were doing this.
“I suppose it is tradition.” Hotch said softly, and your eyes widened. He said nothing further, just looked at you with head slightly tilted, waiting for you to agree or turn him away.
“Just don’t tell HR.” You managed to joke, and when your lips pressed gently together, both of you were laughing.