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"I want you desperately. I want your strength and your softness, your hands, all of you.
I want you, from me, to have the experience of being loved."
- Anaïs Nin, from a letter to Henry Miller written c. August 1932
Little Hank lets out a delighted peel of laughter and Derek cannot keep the smile off of his face. Especially when the sound is followed by Reid continuing to make silly voices from the book he’s reading him.
“Look at that sea, girls--all silver and shadow and vision of things not seen. We couldn't enjoy its loveliness any more if we had millions of dollars and ropes of diamonds.”
Hank giggles, tiny hands gripping the pages of the novel. Morgan worries for a moment that his chubby hands may catch on the edges and slice open, but was he watches Spencer hooks a hand under Hanks and guides them away from danger. Hank pulls Spencer's hand up and begins chewing on his sleeve.
Morgan chuckles as he walks back into the living room and takes a seat next to his two favourite pretty boys.
“You know, Reid, I think Anne of Green Gables is a little old for him right now.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t underestimate little Hank,” Spencer grins down at the baby, “He’ll be reciting Tennyson in no time.”
Hank looks up at his god father with wide eyes, sleeve still firmly clasped between his gums. Spencer leans close to him and says, in a wonderful Kermit the frog voice;
“Four gray walls, and four gray towers, overlook a space of flowers, and the silent isle imbowers; The Lady of Shalott.”
Everyone in the room dissolves into giggles before he has even finished the verse. Morgan picks up his giggling son and holds him against his chest. He’s going to get sleepy soon, and it’s easier to pry him away from Spencer now than too unhook his sleep stiff hands from the man’s shirt collar. He knows that from experience, now.
“When is Savannah back?”
“Couple of hours. She’s picking up a shift for a friend of hers.”
Reid nods and looks down at the book in his lap. Morgan watches his fingers flick at the pages and leaf green cover.
He is nervous, but Morgan already knew that. As attentive as Spencer is as a godfather he doesn’t often come around without calling ahead, and that’s exactly what he did tonight. And this time Morgan can sense he’s not nervous about interacting with Hank. Something has been on the tip of his tongue ever since he came here tonight.
Morgan stands with a sigh and nods behind him.
“Help me get him down?”
Spencer jumps to his feet and rushes ahead to the kitchen, already talking a mile a minute about proper milk temperature for the eradication of bacteria, and milk health regulations or something like that. Morgan is much too sleep deprived to be able to follow right now.
He frowns. Spencer is holding himself differently. Not nervous differently, more like bruised ribs differently. He hasn’t said a word about the BAU’s most recent case but from what Garcia told him this morning it had been a dozy, and there had been an explosion.
“You okay, kid?”
Spencer pauses in the middle of measuring out of ‘proper’ serving of milk to blink up at him.
“I’m sorry?”
“You’re holding yourself a little funny there.”
Spencer looks away, shrugs. And then blushes.
Oh.
Okay. That’s not what he expected. Morgan suddenly very much has to know what’s been eating the kid up all night if it makes him blush like a school girl.
Spencer finishes preparing the milk and hands it off to Morgan who hitches Hank up against his chest, positions the bottle, and lets the little man do his own thing.
“He’s a genius,” Spencer smiles down at the baby, “He’s already showing development long ahead of his stage in life, you and Savannah should consider and early learning program for him in the near future because if he continues at this rate-”
“As much as I love how invested you are in my kid’s life, Reid,” Morgan interrupts, making sure Reid hears the levity in his voice, “I don’t think you came around here tonight just to discuss early learning programs.”
“I-”
Spencer bites his lip and goes quiet. Morgan lets him gather his thoughts, the only sounds filling the kitchen coming from a euphorically eating Hank.
“You know Luke?”
Morgan almost startles. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but mention of the team’s newest member wasn’t it.
“Yeah. Yeah, I know Alvez. Seems like a good guy.”
Spencer won’t meet his eyes. His fingers are unconsciously undoing and redoing a button on his cardigan.
“Something happened.”
“Okay. What?”
“He kissed me.”
Morgan feels his heart lurch and his shoulders tense.
“Spencer if he is doing things that you don’t want him to do you need to tell Emily a-“
“No! its-its-,” Reid runs a hand through his hair, blush still firmly in place as he stares down at the benchtop, “it’s not like that.”
“Alright,” Morgan hitches Hank up on his chest as he finishes his bottle and begins to doze on his shoulder, “Then tell me what it’s like.”
Spencer sighs and then finally looks up and meets Morgan’s eyes.
“It started with the case before last. We were called to Phoenix about a serial arsonist…”
…
Twenty fires in two weeks. They tracked the progress from afar, but the team is only called in officially when the eighteenth fire kills a woman and her two kids. By the time the wheels of their jet touch down on the tarmac on Phoenix two more fires have been set, and buy the time they make it to the police station two more people have died from smoke inhalation complications.
When they clear the rubble from the second newest fire they find the arsonist had tied up and thrown someone on the building as is burnt. At the newest fire they find he has done the same, but this time to two people. It’s so rapid an escalation that it’s obvious now that he has accidentally killed he likes the feeling of it. And he’s not going to stop chasing that feeling.
He has no type when it comes to targets. He hits poor buildings, and rich buildings, ones filled with people and ones devoid of all life. No one is safe and the whole city feels like its buzzing with anxiety.
The local cops aren’t very welcoming. They are afraid and under enormous pressure. With record high temperatures and a water shortage they are fighting an uphill battle to even control the fires, let alone catch a killer on top of all that.
And Spencer-
Well, Spencer is dying.
Luke chuckles as he watches him fight a losing battle with the SUV’s air conditioning.
“Shut up.”
“I’m just saying man,” Luke chuckles, steering the car up a dusty road towards their destination, “You’d be a lot more comfortable without that tie and cardigan.”
“It’s a dry heat.”
“It’s a sauna. Especially if you’re wearing wool.”
Spencer finally gets the vents to spit out blessedly cold air and he groans in relief. Its lasts about two minutes before the air goes from chilly, to cold, to warm.
“I hate the government.”
Luke laughs again. He’s doing a lot of that recently, around Spencer. A few months ago he would have seen that as a sign that Luke was being dishonest or over compensating for being the new guy on the team. Now, after everything they have been through, Spencer can see that Luke, for whatever reason, just enjoys his company. He thinks Spencer is funny.
It’s nice, how quickly Luke decided to be his friend. With Elle there was always a barrier, when Emily first started she was too nervous to get to know well, and everyone else took time and effort. He didn’t have to put in effort with Luke, didn’t have to try. He seemed to be interested in every inane fact that Spencer spouted off, every retelling of the movie he saw last night, every book that he was excited to get home and finally read. It was … new.
Spencer wonders if the others have noticed it. Maybe that’s why Emily has been pairing him off with Alvez recently. Maybe she isn’t worried that he needs a protector now that Derek is gone. Maybe she can see that for the first time in his life he has easily made a friend.
“Here we are,” Luke announces as they pull up to the farm house that is their destination, “Emma Wilkinson’s home.”
“There’s no guarantee she’ll give us any useful information.”
“Yeah,” Luke sighs, “But maybe she’ll have an air conditioner.”
She doesn’t. But she does have three kids. Three, screaming, over sugared children.
It’s obvious from Ms. Wilkinson’s behaviour that she is dealing with several domestic breakdowns at once. She answers their questions about her estranged husband between changing a diaper and sticking a spanner into the guts of their broken-down air cooler.
“-I really wish I could help you more b- Xavier James Wilkinson you spit that out right gosh darn now you hear me! But I really haven’t seen the bastard in two years, and I always hang up when I realize it's him callin’ me. What did you say he did again?”
“That’s alright Ms. Wilkinson, we just want to speak with John, we don’t know if he is involved in anything at this point in the investigation.”
“Do you know of anywhere he would go that would make him hard to reach? Somewhere where there’s no cell reception or maybe where he purposely turns his cell phone off?”
“Um,” She bites her lip and tucks a strand of her long brown hair behind her ear, “His daddy’s old studio maybe? Johnny always fancied himself an artist you see, even though he never painted, just liked setting gunpowder on fire and makin’ pictures out of the burns, not very good ones if you ask m- Molly put that down! We do not hit our brothers with trucks! Molly! Oh- do you mind.”
Before Spencer could protest he was holding a small child in one arm and a spanner in the other. Luke smiled at him, obviously trying not the laugh at him, and texted Garcia for information about John McCombs ‘daddies’ art studio.
“We have an address,” he said seconds later as Spencer hesitantly bounced the baby on his hip, “It’s not too far from here- not even a mile away from what we suspected was the first fire. I’ll send a message to Emily and we can meet the rest of the team out there.”
Which is when little Bartholomew turns green and empties his stomach all over Spencers shirt and cardigan.
Spencer doesn’t freak out exactly. But he doesn’t not freak out either. Somehow Luke manages to get the baby back to his mother, excuse them politely and get him back to the SUV without Spencer needing to do anything other than follow him blindly.
He comes back to himself when Luke begins to unbutton his shirt.
“Woah-I,um-”
“Just getting you out of these as quickly as possible,” Luke tells him in his calm agents voice, “Nothing untoward going on here, no reason to sick Garcia on me or anything.”
Spencer chuckles mentally at that, but somehow the expression doesn’t manifest physically. He can’t feel any of the- yuck- on his skin, but he can feel his skin crawling. He tries to tell himself that the baby seemed perfectly healthy, that it was probably just a normal reaction for the child to do that, that he hasn’t got any malicious bacteria’s on him. But then the irrational part of his brain starts listing all the horrible diseases that child could be carrying, that he could now be infected with-
Luke strips his shirt off of him in one fluid motion and takes the cardigan with it. Spencer would be impressed, if he had the brain capacity to be anything other than panicked right now.
“My bag,” he chokes, “I’ve got disinfectant in my bag.”
“Don’t worry,” Luke leans into the open SUV door, balls his clothes up into a spare evidence bag, and pulls a large bottle of anti-bacterial disinfectant out of the glove box.
Spencer snatches it from him and begins to slather it on to his chest and arms and neck, and oh god he hopes none of it got into his hair, he doesn’t want to get a haircut-
After a moment, and after covering every conceivable crevice, it begins to dry, and Spencer takes a long calming breath.
And then he realizes he is standing shirtless and oiled up in front of his teammate.
“Uh.”
Alvez doesn’t react though. He keeps his eyes firmly on Spencers face and offers him a T-shirt.
Spencer relaxes. Nudity is not easy for him. Even non- sexualized semi-nudity with only one compassionate witness. The fact that Alvez isn’t making a big deal out of this- isn’t trying to make a joke to ease the tension…it really means a lot to him.
With a thankful smile Spencer slips the t-shirt on.
And it falls around him like a circus tent.
“Huh?”
Oh. Its Luke’s spare shirt. Of course, it is, Spencers spare clothes are back at the hotel. But this is Luke’s shirt.
It smells like his aftershave.
“Is it okay?” Luke asks him, genuinely concerned, “I know you don’t like germs but it’s all I have. We could ask Ms Wilkinson for a shirt if its making you uncomfortable.”
“N-no it's ok.”
“Are you sure?”
Spencer smiles.
“Well besides the fact that it makes me look as skinny as a rake, yeah its perfect.”
And then serious Luke is gone and his sunshine smile is back. Something punches in Spencers gut at the sight and he is surrounded by the smell of Luke, and-
Oh crap.
Oh no.
He has a crush.
“We had better get strapped into our vests and get going if we want to meet the team there.”
“W-yeah! Yes, let’s do that.”
Spencer pushes his epiphany to the back of his mind, focuses on the task at hand, and they are back on track in no time. After they apprehend the guy, and Luke is getting stitched up by a flirty paramedic that Spencer irrationally wants to sneer at, Emily corners him.
“Nice shirt. Do I want to know?”
“There was this baby at the arsonists wife’s house, and it just- didn’t like me much, it seems.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Emily smirks, “Just tell me when you’re ready-”
“Tell you what? There is nothing to tell!”
“-cause if you and Alvez are knocking boots on company time I’m going to have to start filing different paperwork.”
She walks away laughing, leaving Spencer standing there blushing and stuttering likes he’s going in to shock.
He really, really, needs a shower.
..
“…Okay so a baby threw up on you, he gave you his shirt and you realised you like like him. I’m not following here kid.”
“That’s just- that’s just the backstory, nothing happened until- until two days ago.”
“Okay. I’m listening.”
…
Spencer was not anticipating the explosion. One second he was on his feet the next he is being pulled back and thrown down into a ditch near the barn they had been approaching. Alvez follows him down and covers him with his body, wrapping his arms around Spencers head just before there is a loud noise and a sudden gust of scorching hot air, followed by a rain of wood splinters and shrapnel.
Spencer blinks his eyes open, ears still ringing from the deafening noise. The first thing he sees is the cut of Luke’s jaw.
“Alvez,” he croaks, words sounding muddy to his own ears, “Alvez, I think it’s over.”
He extracts an arm from under Luke’s side, distantly registering a stinging cut on his shoulder, and reaches up to cup the other man’s head.
“Luke!”
Luke rears up suddenly, panting heavily, before leaning back down into Spencers space, eyes wild.
“Are you okay?” he all but yells, hands skimming over Spencers face and body, “Where are you hurt?”
“Luke! I’m not hurt!”
Not severely anyway. A few cuts and bruises, nothing that could cause any lasting damage, and nothing to make Alvez look as freaked out as he does now.
“I heard the click,” Alvez babbles, still searching for injuries, “I thought it was a claymore, an IED- and I just- I had to get you out of there. I could just see you- I could just see it blowing you off your feet and I-”
Spencer grips Luke’s shirt just over his chest and forces him to look him in the eyes.
“Luke. I am okay,” he says seriously, keeping his voice level and calm, “You kept us safe. Thank you.”
A look overcomes Luke’s face, a pained and wild, and then Spencer is being kissed.
Being really, really kissed. Intense, and hot and like no one has ever kissed him before. A large hand is cupping his head and he is pressed against Alvez from mouth to ankle, and he can feel every inch of him shaking. His mouth goes slack with shock and he is just starting to kiss back when Alvez breaks off, looking suddenly
“Sorry,” he pants, “I’m- I didn’t mean to force you-”
Spencer grabs his collar and pulls Luke back down, sealing their mouths together so he can give as good as he got. Luke whimpers and kisses back, tongue slipping in beside Spencers making him moan, a hand slips up under his tac-vest, fingernails scraping against the skin of his stomach making him shiver and fist Luke’s hair and hook his leg around Luke’s hip, pulling him down so their grinding against each other and-
“Alvez! Reid! Sound off! Come on guys, report!”
They jump apart, panting and flushed, as Emily yells through their earpieces.
“We’re good,” Luke replies, not taking his eyes off Spencer, “There was an explosion on the north side, no one injured. No eyes on the unsub.”
“JJ and Tara apprehended him, the bomb-squad are here to dismantle the rest of the explosives. We’re regrouping around the front of the barn.”
“We’re on our way.”
Luke pulls Spencer to his feet and brushes him off, hands lingering somewhat as he straightens his vest.
They don’t say anything to each other. They just share a look, nod and then they are back on the job. The only trace of what happened is a patch of disturbed dirt and Spencers flushed red mouth.
Damn beard burn.
…
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“…you player, Reid!”
“No-I’m-
“And in the middle of a case. Damn.”
“Shut up.”
Morgan laughs as Spencers face flushes bright red.
“So, you like him, and he likes you enough to kiss you in the middle of a serial bomber investigation. What’s the problem?”
Spencer sighs and slumps against the kitchen island.
“We came straight back to DC after we arrested the unsub,” he all but whispers, “And he got called into a meeting as soon as we got back to the office. I haven’t had a chance to talk to Luke.”
“Ah,” Morgan says in realization, “So you’ve had time to pick apart everything that happened and are now freaking out over it.”
“I’m not freaking out!”
Morgan raises an eyebrow and Spencer relents.
“…okay, I’m freaking out.”
“I’ve seen you do this before, pretty boy. Something good happens to you and you over analyse it until you convince yourself that your either don deserve it or that it isn’t a good thing after all. So, tell me why exactly having a try at a relationship with a hot ex-army ranger who is goofy over you is a bad thing.”
Spencer bites his lip in silence for a long moment before answering, speaking so fast Morgan has trouble keeping up.
“I’m a former drug addict who is potentially living with an undiagnosed autism spectrum disorder, who gets hyper focused and forgets people exist for long periods of time, and has trouble with mine and other peoples emotions, and after the time I spent in prison you can add PTSS to the top of that list, so I’ve been acting erratically and sometimes lashing out at people who I care about. I’ve haven’t been in a long term relationship since I was twenty three, and from what Luke has hinted at he hasn’t either, paired with his PTSS from his time in the army, not to mention we are on the same team and are employed by a historically homophobic institution, plus no one on the team even knows I’m bisexual because Gideon encouraged me to hide it-”
“Hey, hey, hey!” Morgan holds his hands up pleadingly, “Slow down kid or you’ll swallow your tongue!”
Spencer rolls his eyes, but relents. He takes Hank from Morgan’s arms, rocking him gently.
“Okay,” Morgan starts after a moment to absorb all the information that was just spewed at him, “You should go for it.”
“What!” Spencer hisses, whispering so he doesn’t wake the baby, “I tell you all that and you say I should ‘go for it’. Did you even listen?”
“I listened to you focus on the negatives,” Morgan continues, getting up to lead his two favourite boys to the nursery, “Tell me some positives.”
Spencer hands Hank over with a frown on his face.
“He always listens when I talk,” he confesses in a near whisper, “And he has my back, and he fully trusts me to have his. He and Garcia joke around all the time, but he would actually take a bullet for her. For all of us, he’s so loyal, and-and true hearted like a freaking Knight of the Roundtable. He came with me to a Korean movie screening a couple of weeks ago and now he wants to learn the language, and he laughs whenever I try to speak Spanish. He’s smart, smart in one of the most adaptable ways I’ve ever seen, and-” he lets out a small sigh, “-handsome, and he really loves his dog. He- sometimes I think he’s guessed some of the stuff I’ve been through, but he never pries he just looks at me like- … like he’s gonna stick around so when I’m ready to tell him- … he made me cookies last week…”
Morgan smiles, and lays his son down in his crib, kissing him on the forehead as he goes off to sleep. He knows there is more than that. Knows from a few contacts that Alvez made a few threats to keep Spencer safe in prison, and followed up on those threats. Knows from Garcia that Luke goes out of his way to make Spencer ramble, and always smiles like is Christmas. Knows from JJ that Luke has asking subtle questions about Spencers past relationships for weeks now.
“So,” Morgan says as he straightens up and clasps Spencer shoulders, “Go for it.”
“What if it goes wrong?”
“What if it doesn’t?”
Spencer looks at him pleadingly, like Morgan can make this all better.
“I’m just-…. Afraid.”
“Well, as a wise woman once said; ‘Stay afraid, but do it anyway.’”
A wide smile spreads across Spencers face.
“Carrie Fisher.”
“Yeah,” Morgan laughs, slinging an arm around Spencers shoulders as they leave his son to his dreams, “So go out there and make your Princess proud.”
“General. She’s a General in the new movies.”
“Do not make me physically push you out the door, Reid.”
…
Reid is actually at Alvez’ door before he can formulate a plan. Morgan’s pep talk had inspired a confidence in him that had carried him across town and to the other man’s door before he could think about all of this properly.
And now here he is. Standing on his doorstep, dresses in his second worst cardigan, the thick brown one with self-cut thumb holes, and his most scuffed pairs of shoes.
And he just knocked on the door.
Oh crap.
What was he thinking? Just because Luke kisses him in a moment of terror after almost dying from a bomb explosion doesn’t mean he wants a relationship, let alone wants Spencer showing up on his doorstep at nearly ten at night after a long exhausting week of work.
He’s halfway up the path when the door opens behind him and a soft voice says-
“Reid?”
Reid whirls around and there Alvez is, standing in his brightly illuminated doorway, the yellow light spilling across his skin like gold, and Spencer can see plenty of it because he’s dressed in a pair of red and black checked pyjama pants and- and he hasn’t got a shirt on- oh lord.
“H-hi,” Spencer stutters.
Luke smiles, soft and kind.
“What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine!” he blusters, “I just- well I was in the- no I wasn’t, but-but I was thinking-”
Which is when Roxy pushes out from around Luke’s legs, bounds down the pathway and jumps on Spencer, knocking him off his feet.
“Shit!” Luke exclaims, rushing down after his dog, “Are you okay, man?”
Roxy has settled on his chest, tail wagging as she licks his face.
“I’m fine,” Spencer laughs, “Hello Roxy.”
Roxy whines, shimmying her but in happiness. Luke laughs, looking embarrassed, before lifting Roxy clean off Spencer. His arms look nice doing that. Really nice.
“You wanna come in and use my washroom,” Luke asks him as he picks himself off the ground, “I have antibacterial soap.”
“Yeah, yeah if it’s okay.”
“Of course, it is.”
Which is how he ends up in Alvez’ washroom, washing dog slobber off his face as said dog sits in the doorway, watching him with big eager eyes. He smiles at her and she whines happily.
“I’m sorry about that,” Luke says as he comes into the washroom, holding out a fresh towel, and still gloriously shirtless, “She doesn’t usually do that, I trained her not to jump on people.”
“I have a strange effect on dogs,” Spencer winces as he wipes down his face, “And babies.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” Luke laughs.
Spencer smiles and they drop into a companionable silence. Well, silent except for Roxy’s whines.
“I was just about to make myself a coffee, would you like one?”
“Isn’t it a little late for coffee?”
“Not for me, how about you?”
“Oh, no, not nearly too late, I just thought-”
Luke laughs and motions over his shoulder. Spencer follows him with Roxy hot on his heels. He leans against the kitchen counter as Luke starts the coffee going.
It’s the second time Spencer has been in a kitchen with an uncommonly handsome man tonight. He wonders if this is the start of a new pattern in his life.
He watches the muscles in Luke’s shoulders move and he finds he hopes it is.
“All I’ve got is filters, so it will take a while,” Alvez says with a chuckle.
“You prefer filters?” Reid asks.
“I prefer whatever gets me my caffeine at the end of the day,” Luke says as he turns around and leans back on the counter, “My sister gave me the set for Christmas.”
“Oh, are you close to her?”
“Yeah, we used to try and kill each other when they were little, but when we got older she turned into my best friend. I stayed with her after I first came back,” Luke smiles, momentarily making Spencer forget how to think when he crosses his amazing arms, “You don’t have any siblings?”
“No, no. It was always just me and my Mom,” Spencer shrugs and mimics Luke’s posture, “Though Morgan has sort of adopted me into his family. His Mom and Sisters actually invited me into their Christmas family portrait last year.”
“Matching sweaters?”
“Yeah,” Spencer grins, “And antlers.”
Luke laughs, pure sunshine spilling from his face.
“Oh my god,” he laughs, “How has Garcia not plastered that all over the office?”
“Well … she’s in it too.”
Something mischievous sparks across Luke’s face.
“You have to get me a copy.”
“Well, maybe I could. But not for free.”
Luke’s face shifts again, his smile shifting from charming to absolutely sultry as he pushed off of the counter and stepped towards Spencer. But then, half a step away he falters, and the look slipped away into … doubt.
“I, uh,” Luke says softly before swallowing, “I kinda guessed you were here to talk about what happened.”
Spencers heart lurches.
“Yes,” he whispers, all his eloquent words suddenly gone.
“I really need-” Luke searches for words, face cast in worry, “I need to apologise.”
“Huh?”
“I forced you into that kiss, I didn’t ask permission and even if I was a hundred percent certain you felt the thing between us too I never should have put you in that situation, the explosion was no excuse-”
Spencer really wished Luke was wearing a shirt for this conversation. His eyes keep dropping down to stare at the way Luke’s chest jiggles as he gestures through his speech.
“-and I’m just so sorry if I hurt you, or made you uncomfortable and I will completely understand if you report me to Emily, I won’t contest-”
“I liked it!” Spencer interrupts, voice spurting out of his too loud for the silent house as his face blooms bright red, “I-um- liked it when you kissed me.”
Luke, it seems, was not anticipating that reaction.
He freezes, mid-sentence and gesture as he stares slack jawed at Spencer. Then slowly he unfreezes, small intimate smile spreading across his face. He steps closer to Spencer, to he can practically feel the heat radiating off of his chest.
“Really?” Alvez asks, almost teasing.
Spencer smiles up at him, but it still feels nervous.
“When I first met you,” he twists his hands into the front of his cardigan, “I was determined not to like you. I, childishly, thought you were replacing Morgan. And then you showed up and when I rambled about, about Cain and Abel of all things you just smiled … exactly like you’re smiling at me right now.”
Luke chuckles and reaches forwards to wrap his hand around Spencers, stopping their nervous motion.
“I like to listen to your talk.”
Spencer shivers.
“And then the baby threw up on me,” he continues in a near whisper, “And- I have a lot of issues with being undressed around people, there was this thing with bullies at school and then this thing with Anthrax, and I- you made me feel safe. I was freaking out and vulnerable and you made me feel safe. I- that means a lot to me. That’s when I sort of woke up to … feeling this.”
Luke squeezes his hand.
“I realized when we were in that sex shop.”
“What?!” Spencer shouts, “We barely knew each other.”
“I knew you were cute and scary smart,” Luke laughs, “I knew I liked you as more than a team mate, as more than a friend, when you broke all my expectations and strolled into a bdsm shop like you were walking into a bookshop or a grocery store. I wanted to know more. And the more I knew the more I liked and I just sort of … woke up half way through a crush.”
Spencer smiles.
“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun. ... Austen.”
“Oh, I really want to kiss you now.”
Spencer leans forwards minutely.
“You can. If you’d like.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Spencer laughs, “And-and maybe take me on a date?”
“You want me to take you? You’re the guy who knows about obscure basement movie showings weeks in advance, and who has special after hours access to that Curiosa Library across town, I think I’d like to see what a Spencer Reid date looks li-”
Spencer cuts him off with a kiss. Its closed mouthed and somewhat juvenile compared to their last one, but an electric current still zings down his spine.
Luke chuckles, cups his cheek and guides his head to the side, instantly turning the kiss more intimate. Spencer sort of falls against his chest. A warm, strong, arm wraps around his waist and Spencer wonder why the hell they weren’t doing this weeks ago.
Spencer twists a hand in Luke’s hair like he remembers from last time, and he moans.
“Not fair,” he pants when they break apart, “I’m trying to be a gentleman.”
“Really? I’m not.”
Luke moans again, eyes fogged with lust.
Spencer runs a hand down his side, biting his lip when his fingers trace across the edges of firm abdominal muscles. He’s never had such a physically fit romantic partner before. His last boyfriend, so many years ago in college, was as skinny and lanky as he was. He’s got some muscle now, but he’s got absolutely nothing on Luke.
He has the sudden image of licking up Luke’s stomach and he feels his knees tremble.
“It’s too late for me to take the train home,” Spencer whispers, lips brushing Luke’s with every word.
“Hmm. A gentleman would offer you his bed.”
“Only if you’ll be in it too,” Spencer feels his blush return, “We don’t have to do anything if-”
“I know,” Luke kisses him softly, once, twice, “I know we don’t… coffee first, though.”
Spencer snorts.
“Bit of an unconventional coffee date.”
Luke steps away from him with a cheeky grin.
“Unconventional? I haven’t even broken out the chocolate sauce and whipped cream yet.”
Spencer laughs and grins at him as he steps fully away to tend to their coffees. He thinks he’s looking at him with a fond expression.
They still have a lot they’ll have to talk about. About how sometimes Spencer will have bad days and he won’t be able to touch or kiss without feeling ill. How his insomnia can get the best of him, and how it’ll take a lot for him to ever think about moving in with someone, down the line. How they live dark lives and one day, despite what they may think and hope, they will have to leave it behind. And how they’ll inevitably always carry some of that darkness with them. How Spencer wants kids and a house with a library one day, but he’s never thought about how he would get there or who he would share it with. How one day he may lose himself the way his mother is now. They’ll have to talk about their shared PTSS problems, and how Luke has nightmares (he’s overheard enough choked off screams through hotel walls to make that deduction) and the survivors guilt that he carries like a cross on his back. They both have bleeding hearts and cruel parts and Spencer has no idea how to make that work in a relationship.
But right now, standing in this warm kitchen with a very shirtless and attractive man, surrounded by the smell of coffee and standing across from Luke’s fridge which is covered in funky magnets, an uncertain future stretching out endlessly in front of them, he finds he doesn’t care.
They’ll jump off that cliff together. When the time comes.
Roxy buts up against his leg and he strokes her head softly. Yeah, he could get used to this.