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“Could I have an extra one of those cardboard things?” Hotch pointed at the cup holders behind the counter.
“Zarf.”
“Bless you?” Hotch murmured.
“It’s called a zarf,” Spencer brushed his hair behind his ear and smiled. The young man behind the counter looked confused but handed Hotch the zarf. Hotch fumbled with his coffee for a moment and then followed Spencer to the door.
“Well, it’s also called a coffee sleeve. Zarfs were originally made of metal or wood and were used to hold a cup that didn’t have a handle. You always get a second one. What do you need it for?”
“Their coffee is so hot that it burns my fingers through the cup. So, two zarfs.” Hotch held up his cup as illustration.
“You could just add milk.”
“Not everyone wants to ruin a perfectly good cup of coffee, Reid.” Hotch huffed but he was smiling.
Spencer raised his own cup to his lips and took a sip before letting out a satisfied sigh and smiling. “Ah, perfect temperature.” Hotch chuckled shortly and held open the door to the FBI offices. He wasn’t sure when this had become part of their routine. One morning he’d bumped into Spencer at the coffee shop across the street and since then, through some sort of tacit agreement, they’d met there every day before work to grab a cup of coffee. He enjoyed these moments with Reid, who was rapidly becoming Spencer. It was nice to share, with someone other than his son, the comfortable moments where he was still Aaron and didn’t need to armour himself and be the forbidding unit chief that he was beyond the glass doors of the BAU. Of course, once they stepped into the elevator the soft smiles disappeared, the teasing vanished and they were all business by the time Garcia met them in the bull pen with an abduction case in Ohio.
The trouble started once those etched glass boundaries started to shake and blur. Suddenly, there were moments of Aaron and Spencer in the office and in the field. If he’d stopped to analyse it, Hotch would have shut it down instantly but the friendship had surprised him and the feelings snuck up on him.
Reid flapped a hand in the general direction of the coffee smell without removing his eyes from the map in front of him. When he didn’t connect with the expected cup, he reached slightly further but still no coffee. He looked to his left to see Hotch gradually moving a mug further from his questing fingers with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Reid huffed in exasperation and tried to quell his own laughter. When their eyes met, Hotch handed him the coffee without comment and only a nearly imperceptible smile in return for Reid’s broad grin.
“God, you two make me sick,” Rossi grumbled under his breath at Hotch’s retreating back. Reid choked on his coffee and Rossi leaned over to thump him on the back.
“Seriously, what?”
“You and Aaron. You’re so adorable it makes my teeth hurt.”
“Hotch isn’t adorable,” Reid protested even though half a dozen instances of utter adorableness clamoured for attention as his near infallible memory replayed scenes from the last few months, “and neither am I,” he added as an afterthought.
“Do you call him Hotch in bed?”
Reid was seriously glad he hadn’t risked another sip of coffee. “What the hell, Rossi? I’m not sleeping with Hotch.”
“You’re not serious?” Rossi gave him a glare that gradually softened into incredulity. “You’re serious. Why the hell aren’t you?”
“Because we’re just friends?” Spencer offered and bit at his lip.
Which was true. Almost. Except friends had an easy camaraderie between them. Dave would clasp Aaron’s shoulder. Derek would ruffle Spencer’s hair. But when Hotch accidentally bumped into Reid they would both feel like the world had slipped a little on its axis. That wasn’t friendly; that was more.
“Night, Morgan” Hotch murmured and the two shared a manly one armed hug before Hotch turned in Reid’s direction, swaying ever so slightly. Reid couldn’t help but grin at the sight of an inebriated Hotch before him but that turned to slight alarm as Hotch opened both arms and tugged Spencer into an awkward embrace.
“Hey, Aaron. Come on! This old man wants his bed.”
“That’s my ride,” Hotch grinned and gestured vaguely in Rossi’s direction. “Night, baby.” He called over his shoulder as he stumbled over to Rossi and into his rather preposterous Lamborghini. Spencer’s jaw hit the floor and he could see a similar expression on Morgan’s face.
“Did Hotch just call you baby?” Morgan gaped at him and then burst out laughing. “Hey, Baby Girl, he shouted over to Garcia who had just walked out of the bar fiddling with her phone. “Hotch just called Reid baby.”
“Aww,” Garcia cooed and Spencer cursed alcohol in general and his drunk team mates in particular.
“Enough, Derek. In the car.” Spencer practically growled out his words.
“Sure thing, baby,” Morgan chuckled as he slid into the passenger side. Spencer looked out the window to see Garcia congregating in the entrance with JJ and Kate clearly telling them about the baby incident. His life was a nightmare.
Still, in his bed that night staring at his ceiling, he couldn’t help the warm feeling that blossomed in his stomach at the fact that Hotch called him baby, no matter how accidentally.
If they’d really been friends, they would have laughed about it on Monday morning.
Hotch fidgeted nervously outside the coffee shop on Monday morning. He hadn’t forgotten his inebriated slip of the tongue and even if alcohol had managed to wipe that from his brain, Rossi wasn’t letting it go. He’d left Hotch outside his home with a cheerful “Goodnight honey!” Then Hotch had received a text in the morning: Good morning, sugar pie. And last night there had been an email enquiring as to whether Rossi had missed a pertinent memo about new regulations as to addressing fellow agents. He cited the examples: Baby Girl, Pretty Boy, Chocolate Thunder, and Baby. Hotch was seriously considering keying Rossi’s ridiculous car.
Finally, Spencer appeared and greeted Hotch with a small smile before brushing past him into the coffee shop, desperately seeking his usual beverage. Reid wasn’t acting any differently. Perhaps he hadn’t noticed? But no, Reid had been stone cold sober and Hotch had been loud. He was probably just being polite but Hotch knew that, with the exception of Rossi, the team would tease Reid over this rather than their stoic boss. He couldn’t allow that to happen.
Reid stopped Hotch at the door of the coffee shop. “Here you forgot your second zarf.” Hotch took it with a short nod and knew that this was the moment to broach the subject but they were already walking over to the imposing doors of the FBI building before Hotch worked up the courage and stopped his subordinate with a light touch on the elbow.
“Reid, I want to apologise for my behaviour on Friday. It was inappropriate and must have embarrassed you. I assure you that it will not happen again.”
Spencer fiddled with the ends of his scarf and took a sip of coffee. “You mean when you referred to me as baby?”
Hotch blushed brilliantly and was inordinately glad that Reid wasn’t looking at him. “Yes. I meant no disrespect. I really am sorry.”
Spencer looked up and Hotch realised that he’d been drinking his coffee not out of embarrassment but to hide an enormous grin. “It’s ok, Hotch. I mean usually I’d expect dinner and probably at least one sexual encounter before a pet name but I’m not averse to playing with the order of things a little.”
Hotch just gaped. Surely it wasn’t his most attractive facial expression but Spencer was looking at him with that crooked grin that Hotch adored. “Did you just invite me for dinner and sex?” he finally managed to choke out.
“Yup. I guess I did.”
“Great. Yes. That sounds great.” Hotch finally grinned back. “Would you like to come to mine? Jessica’s got Jack tonight if that’s not too soon.”
“Hotch, we’ve known each other for over a decade. I don’t think tonight can be considered too soon.” Reid smiled and the two men walked into work, shoulders brushing softly, and the world tilted a little on its axis.