Chapter Text
As it turns out, Aaron’s mattress is even nicer than the one in his guest bedroom. You wake up with your arm flung over his chest, hugging him tightly. One of his hands is tracing symbols on your shoulder, and the other is folded behind his head, propping it up as he watches you. His deep brown eyes are still sleepy, half-closed, but content.
“Good morning,” he whispers as you’re trying to decipher what he’s tracing on your skin. “And Merry Christmas.”
“Good morning and Merry Christmas,” you reply, his soft cotton t-shirt brushing against your cheek. You inhale, memorizing his scent. Clean, like soap and fresh linens. A hint of coffee and cinnamon. Traces of leathery, woodsy cologne. You want to stay here forever, but alas, you cannot. Maybe you can steal one of his shirts.
As you attempt to sit up, he pulls you back into his arms, groaning in objection. “Don’t get up.”
You giggle, laying on his chest again. “Gosh, you’re whiny in the morning.”
“Not whiny.” He turns your chin, placing a soft kiss on your lips. “Just enjoying my Christmas present.”
You can’t help the enormous grin that appears on your face. “Okay, Hotchner, that was smooth.”
He kisses your cheek next. “Aaron.”
“Aaron.”
The tip of your nose. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Mhm,” you agree, eyes shutting from the pleasant sensation.
He kisses each eyelid, then murmurs, his breath warm against your skin, “I’ve wanted to wake up next to you for a long time.”
You place a hand on his cheek, feeling the prickliness of his morning stubble. Never before have you seen him anything but clean-shaven. “I like you like this,” you admit, flushing from the revelation. “It feels more like you.”
He feigns dejection. “You don’t like my suits?”
“I didn’t say that,” you reply brazenly, biting the inside of your cheek. “I happen to look forward to seeing you in those every damn day.”
“Oh?” he says, raising his brows. Jokingly, he moves to get up. “I didn’t know you appreciated my attire so much. I can go put one on now if you—”
This time, you grab him and pull him back into bed. “Shut up and kiss me, Aaron.”
And he does.
At least, until you hear the padding of tiny footsteps in the hallway, followed by a childlike voice calling out, “Daddy? Auntie Y/N?” You pull away from Aaron, brushing your fingers through your hair. He straightens as well, sitting up against the bedframe.
Motioning towards the door, you say, “Take him to the kitchen for breakfast. I’ll sneak out in a few minutes.”
He nods, silently agreeing with your decision to keep the development in your relationship private. “Got it,” he whispers conspiratorially, taking a quick peak into the hallway. Finding it empty, he leans forward and steals one last kiss before climbing out of bed.
“Go!” you laugh, tossing a pillow at his head. He dodges, sticking a tongue out at you and making a quip about being a highly trained FBI agent. You roll your eyes and wave him out of the room, watching the door shut behind him.
For a moment, you sit on his bed and think. If you had stayed home for Christmas, you wonder what you’d be doing right now. Probably you’d still be sleeping, or you’d be distracting yourself with random menial tasks. Last Christmas, you’d cleaned your whole apartment until it was sparkling. But this Christmas…
This Christmas, you can hear the joyful laughter of the two Hotchner boys in the kitchen, and you can imagine what a perfect picture they make, and you don’t even have to imagine it, because it’s just a few steps away.
When you join them, it’s beyond your wildest dreams. Jack is elated upon your arrival, wrapping his arms around you. Your heart clenches for the boy—you’re sure he’s missing his mom even more today, and he’s been through so much, and all you want is to make him happy.
“Hey, Jack,” you greet him, ruffling his hair. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Auntie Y/N!” he grins. He points to his father, who is hard at work. “Daddy’s making a huge breakfast for us! He said we’re gonna have bacon and eggs and toast…”
You pull out a wrapped mixing bowl, showing it to Jack. “How about some fresh, homemade cinnamon rolls, too? I whipped up some dough last night.”
His eyes widen, jaw dropping. “I love cinnamon rolls! Auntie Y/N, you should come over for Christmas every year.”
You smirk at Aaron as if to say, I told you he only likes me for my baking! Aaron rolls his eyes at you and speaks to his son. “Jack, while we’re making breakfast, why don’t you go and grab the present you made for Auntie Y/N?”
This time, your eyes widen. “Present? I—”
“Yes, good idea, Daddy!” Jack exclaims excitedly, running off to his room. Aaron chuckles softly as Jack’s footsteps fade down the hall.
You turn to him, frowning. “Present? I didn’t bring anything for you guys. Now I feel terrible.”
“Don’t,” he says, leaning against the counter. “You being here is more than enough.”
Your nose crinkles in disbelief, but he looks so genuine that you can’t help but believe him. Before you can respond, Jack comes barrelling back into the room, clutching a gift box, which he promptly shoves into your hands as you crouch down to his height.
“Jack, you didn’t have to—”
“Open it!” he gushes, unable to stand still.
Gingerly, you lift the lid off the box and peel away a layer of glittery tissue. Inside the box is a white, heart-shaped ornament, hand-painted with your first name, decorated with red flowers and green leaves. Tears well up in your eyes, and your hands begin to tremble. Jack’s tiny hands cover yours, steading them.
When you look up at him, his bottom lip is jutting out. “You don’t like it?”
You shake your head, smiling at him. “I love it, Jackybean. It’s my favourite present I’ve ever gotten.”
In high spirits once more, Jack grabs your hand and leads you over to the tree, helping you pick the perfect spot to place the ornament. With Aaron’s help, you lift him up so Jack can put it there himself, the sounds of his laughter ringing through the living room. Once the ornament is securely hung, the three of you settle down for breakfast. Aaron whispers in your ear how Jack made that gift the day he invited you to spend the holidays with them, certain you would say yes. A flicker of guilt tugs at you for ever considering backing out, but it fades quickly as you realize you did come—and you’re overwhelmingly happy that you did.
Still, a part of you feels guilt-ridden for having not brought any presents to gift to the Hotchner boys. You hadn’t expected to stay this long, after all—but even so, any well-mannered person would at least bring something when visiting someone else’s home during the holidays. You settle on the couch while Jack sits cross-legged on the floor, tugging his presents out from under the tree.
Aaron rests beside you, an arm stretched on the couch behind your back, not quite touching. His fingers skim your outer thigh like a feather as he leans forward to see what Jack is opening. “That one’s from Auntie Jess,” he explains to the kid.
Jack tears open the wrapping paper, unveiling a bow tie too small for even him to put on. “Daddy, I think Auntie Jess thinks I’m still a baby!”
Aaron chuckles, pointing to the card beside the bow tie. “You might want to take a look at that, Jack.”
The kid glances at the card, which is a small note from Jessica alongside an image of a teddy bear wearing a bowtie. “Oh, it’s for Pudding!” he declares excitedly, eyes immediately darting around the room in search of the teddy. Aaron locates the bear behind the couch cushion.
As Jack fumbles with the accessory, attempting to tug it over Pudding’s head, the button eye that had been hanging on by a thread finally pops off, rolling across the floor with a soft clink. Jack watches it roll under the couch, his previously gleeful expression contorting into a shocked sob.
“I broke him!” he cries, rubbing the tears off his cheeks, only for them to be replaced with newer, fresher ones. “I didn’t mean to…”
Shoulders tensing at the sight, Aaron joins Jack on the floor, rubbing his back to console the distraught child. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. He’s not broken. I promise we can fix him up.”
“Promise?” Jack asks, lip quivering. Aaron nods, reaching under the couch to find the missing eye. Once he retrieves it, he displays it to the kid ceremoniously.
“Once Auntie Jess comes back home, she’ll help us sew him right up,” Aaron tells Jack, whose face immediately drops again.
“We have to wait that long?” Jack questions, frowning at the bear in his lap. “He’s going to be in pain…”
You place a hand on Aaron’s shoulder to get his attention. “Do you have a sewing kit?” you ask.
Dejected, he shakes his head. “No.”
Then it hits you. “Hang tight,” you say, a quick grin tugging at your lips as you dart off into the foyer, stopping by the coat rack. Grabbing your car keys out of your coat but not bothering to put the damn thing on, you dash into the cold and unlock your car, retrieving a small bag from the glove box.
When you race back into the living room, Aaron wraps a blanket around your shoulders, lips pressed together in frustration. “You can’t just run off into the cold without a coat on or you’ll catch a cold…”
Ignoring his chiding expression, you open the bag and pull out the emergency sewing kit you took from one of the many hotels you’ve stayed in for a case. “I have about a dozen of these, so I figured I’d keep one in my car,” you explain, a touch of pride in your voice as you revel in being useful.
“Why have I never thought to take these home?” Aaron muses, taking the sewing kit when you offer it to him. He sits at the kitchen table, picking up a needle and thread as Jack deposits the one-eyed bear in front of him. A moment passes with him simply staring at the tools, and then he attempts to thread the needle rather unsuccessfully.
Squinting at the offending piece of fiber, he tries another time, and then another, each time failing to put it through the hole. “Give me a minute. I can do this,” he grunts without looking up.
“Eyes getting weaker in your old age?” you tease.
His fingers fumble, the small hole in the needle seeming impossibly tiny. He glances at you, looking utterly defeated with his shoulders slumped. “I’ve never actually… done this before.”
You resist the urge to laugh at the image of this powerful, authoritative man brought to his knees by the simple task of sewing on a button. “You don’t know how to sew?”
He pouts, looking way too adorable. “It wasn’t exactly part of my training at the Academy.”
It makes sense, in a way—his late wife was, by all means, the perfect homemaker. Having married her soon after leaving his mother’s home, it’s understandable that certain skills, like sewing, never became something he needed to pick up.
The urge to tease him fades quickly, as you can tell he feels horrible about not being able to fix the issue causing his son so much pain. Jack turns to him and says, “Daddy, I thought you could do everything!”
“I can do a lot of things,” Aaron responds gloomily. “Just not this.”
You perch beside him, softly taking the needle from his hands. “Let me show you,” you offer. “I promise, it’s not as complicated as it looks.”
Aaron watches diligently as you thread the needle, as if taking mental notes. As you sew the button back on, his expression turns into one of admiration and relief. “I’m glad one of us knew what we were doing.”
“No one can be perfect at everything, Aaron,” you remind him, tying off the string. “Let’s call it good luck that I was here when you needed me.”
He leans in closer, rests his head on your shoulder, and lets out a hefty sigh. “I think I always need you.”
You affectionately pat the side of his head, grinning at the sappy comment. “I know. I’m very useful.”
The moment is broken when Jack loudly taps on the table before holding out his hands. “Pudding, please!”
The two of you break apart, having forgotten the child was watching you. You clear your throat, glancing quickly at Aaron before handing Jack the new-and-improved teddy bear. “There, all fixed up!”
Jack beams at you, hugging the bear to his chest. “Thank you, Y/N! I knew you could fix him!”
You squeeze the kid’s cheek playfully, and he lets out a squeal, and you chase him back to the living room so he can open up the rest of his presents. Aaron’s gifted him an elaborate-looking Star Wars lego set, and there’s a brand new train set from Santa under the tree.
There’s a gift bag for Aaron, too—a brand new novelty apron from Jack and Jessica that reads: I’m not old, I’m well-seasoned! You let out an obnoxious snort when you read it over his shoulder. Jack grins, clearly pleased with himself, though he probably doesn’t fully grasp the joke. Aaron simply hugs the kid and thanks him for the new apron, promising he’ll wear it soon. The atmosphere is warm and bright and happy, and you think to yourself: Now this is a very Hotchner holiday.
It isn’t until later, when Jack’s sitting in front of the TV playing with his new toys and you and Aaron are cuddling on the couch with mugs of spiced coffee, that you realize that, for the first time, Jack didn’t call you Auntie.
***