A friendly chitchat.

That was what the previous night had started off as.

Just you and your supervisor, sitting in his kitchen, venting about your failed relationships.

One thing led to another until here you were. The morning after, fully exposed under the covers of his bed.

You could smell food being cooked, and Hotch was nowhere to be seen, so you just assumed he was in the kitchen.

You weren’t really sure what to make of the situation.

You’d both agreed that this was just a distraction, no strings attached, no feelings involved. Strictly casual.

You were more than fine with that. But he was still your supervisor… so should this really have happened in the first place? Even if it was just a casual fling?

You carefully crawled out of bed, rubbing your eye with your palm as you reached for your panties and Hotch’s button up from the previous day.

Hotch caught glimpse of you as you left the bedroom, a soft smirk pulling at his lips as he flipped an omelette.

“You stole my shirt.” He said in that typical stoic tone, though you could hear the underlying amusement in his voice.