Author's Note: This is just a fun little piece I wrote for a livejournal community prompt.
"Without a sense of urgency, desire loses its value" ~ Jim Rohn
***
"Maybe this is a bad idea." Hotch suggested with heavy breath as he broke from Emily's kiss to turn his head to ensure he plugged in the right security code to set his alarm.
"I don't care," Emily whispered in his ear before pressing herself against him completely, moving her lips to ghost over his neck so he could feel the heat of her fast-coming and heavy breath on his skin as she nearly begged him, "Don't care." Just for once, just for tonight, she wanted them to not care. To not follow protocol, consider repercussions, or think things out. She had her baser side and knew he had his; she caught glimpses of it as they'd danced at the Halloween ball – making playful jokes, flirting, grabbing her hips and moving his with skill most wouldn't expect from him as they danced – and she wanted them to indulge each of theirs together.
Hotch exhaled in a near moan as the sound of his beating heart thrummed in his ears, starting to drown out the voice of his conscience. He moved his hands to her hips first with the intent to gently pushing her away but finding his fingers grasping the fabric of her flapper's costume and holding it up between a few fingers as others splayed out across Emily's now bared thigh. Blood rushed throughout his body and his breath grew heavier at the feel of the smoothness of her thigh…even better than he'd ever imagined. Better than any fantasy he'd had.
Emily felt her body flush and heat with desire at his touch. The touch was so soft and yet strangely demanding of more at the same time. She grasped for anything on his costume that she could pull him by and found his beltline before starting to move them in the direction of his dining room table. The bedroom was too far and she didn't want to ruin the momentum they'd built. Shifting onto the table she moved quickly to start untucking her fellow agent's shirt before letting out a gasp when she felt fingers breech the fabric of her panties.
The fingers traveled a little more until they reached the female agent's slickened sex and their owner let out a low, guttural, noise of pure arousal. Hotch had waited so long, too long, for this and being so close now made his urgency grow. An urgency that had him tugging in earnest to remove the main bit of clothing that kept him from gaining full access to Emily's core.
Fuck the shirt! Emily's mind screamed as she switched her attention down to her soon-to-be lover's belt, unclasping and threading it out of its loops with a near snap. Her delicate fingers moved to his fly, pushing the button at the top through its hole before starting to pull the zipper fly down. As she did she felt his growing erection press against her hand and, with a smirk, moved a hand to rub the bulge firmly.
Hotch moaned out Emily's name, felt himself grow harder under her hand, and moved to kiss her deeply. And then he heard it. It was the unmistakable sound of his cell phone. Their kiss broke and Hotch let out a groan, as did Emily, as frustration quickly replaced arousal for both of them.
"Just ignore it," she begged, pressing her hips forward, reminding him just how eager she was for him.
"We can't," Hotch stated with a strength that impressed even him given the circumstances.
Emily nodded in silence, resigned to the knowledge of the fact that Hotch was right. Their job made them on-call no matter how inconvenient. She took a deep, calming, breath, and gave a small smile, "I know." Because they did care.