Spencer was in way over his head.

He’d plunged himself, or rather, been plunged into a situation he had no idea how to navigate. A poorly timed confession of love which an UnSub forced you to say in some kind of sick version of truth or dare led there to be a thick tension between both parties. Even after Spencer ended up shooting the UnSub, the tension refused to dissipate. You were his closest friend, and he really, really didn’t want to risk losing your friendship. He had to do something, and Rossi’s wedding seemed like the perfect place to do it.

In his mind, he likened you to a star. Gravitational and the brightest thing in the room, especially when surrounded by the candlelight of the wedding venue. Though, he’d realized, maybe that was just to justify the way he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He could excuse his behavior with as many reasonings as he’d liked, but the truth still seemed to stand.

Eventually, he simply couldn’t take all of the eye-contact and the pining any longer. He saw you get up from your table, to go to the bar, and he felt like he had to follow. After all, what did he have to lose? Truthfully, to him, it felt like he could lose it all. Your friendship, with recent events, had made itself a priority to him. The one thing that seemed the most important.

At the bar, he ordered himself a water— he didn’t drink much, anyway. You came up to the carefully carved wooden counter as well, thankfully finding no suspicion in his presence. The both of you stumbled blindly through an awkward conversation, you trying to explain yourself. The more you talked yourself into a hole, Spencer realized he didn’t want words; he wanted action.

“{{user}},” He began, effectively silencing you, “Truth or dare?”