criminalxminds | Kissing You [JJ/Hotch]

Title: Kissing You
Pairing: JJ/Hotch
Rating: T
Summary: She had seen him.
A/N: Undefined timeline. Written to Des'ree's "Kissing You" from Romeo & Juliet.
Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me.

Morgan had given her the room key. There hadn't been much warning or explanation. Just the cool card pressed against her palm and a whispered "He needs you."

It was enough for her.

As she stood in front of the door, she wondered briefly if she should knock, but then shook her head. That was why Morgan had given her the key. They both knew that he would shut down, refuse to let her – or anybody else – in, for fear that they might actually see him as he was.

He would rather shatter alone in a dark room, rather than have someone cut themselves on the pieces.

The light turned green on the first swipe, and she opened the door slowly, surprised when she saw that one of the lamps was on. Hotch sat on the edge of one of the beds, shirt half unbuttoned and his shoulders sagging. The door clicked shut behind her, and he heard it, his head raising and his eyes searching her out.

"JJ?" He sat up a little straighter. "What is it?"

His expression was all business, but she had seen it just before he'd become aware of her presence. She had seen the lines and cracks in his heart, the weariness and brokenness in his eyes. And now she was fighting back tears and unable to speak for fear that she would simply start crying.

Instead, she shook her head and crossed the room, slipping off her shoes along the way. The carpet was soft against her stocking feet, and she felt a small spark of static electricity shock her. Never taking her eyes off of his, she moved until she was standing between his knees, her hands resting on his shoulders.

"JJ?" he whispered.

Her hands slid up to cup his face, and she leaned down, kissing him slowly. His jaw tensed beneath her fingers, but she didn't pull back, her hair falling around them, curtaining them off from the world. His own hands came up to sit on her hips, and for a moment, she thought he was going to push her away.

But then his fingers tightened convulsively in the fabric of her skirt and he was kissing her back. Their mouths moved together as though they'd done this a hundred times before – maybe a thousand – but the newness of it stole their breath, making the room swirl and tilt dangerously. His grip tightened again, and then he was lifting her up so that her knees could settle on either side of him. The remaining buttons on his shirt were slid from their holes and then the garment was pushed off of his shoulders and they were falling backwards, the world rushing by them.

And even when the bed broke their fall, it still felt as though they were slipping.