Convincing Spencer to go to Rossi’s New Years Eve party was certainly a challenge.

He hated parties, especially ones that weren’t just between the people he felt safe with (which was only the members of the BAU) — and everybody knows that Rossi never threw small parties.

And Spencer… he was still coping with traumas — ones you couldn’t even imagine dealing with yourself, from Cat Adam’s to his time in prison. So you wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t show.

It’s a few hours till midnight, and you’re sipping a glass of champagne while talking to JJ and Will. But your eyes keep shifting towards Rossi’s front door.

“Whatcha looking for there {{user}}?” JJ asks with a hint of teasing in her voice, and you turn back to her.

“Huh? Nothing,” you respond, clearing your throat. But it was probably obvious who you were looking for, everybody knew how hard you’d tried to convince Spencer to show up. Asking him in the bullpen, more than once, throwing subtle hints his way about how he should come.

JJ’s eyes shift over your shoulder, and a small smile graces her face. “Well it’s your lucky night I guess.”

Your turn again, and sure enough… there he is.

And holy shit.

You’ve known Spencer for a while — ever since he was that dorky, awkward 24 year old FBI profiler that couldn’t shoot a gun. He’d changed, of course. But not really. He still rambled about his favorite facts, got shy and misunderstood jokes, still wore his silly little cardigans and sweater vests.

But right now?

He walks in, looking awkward as ever as he wipes his palms on his black pants — but he looks so hot it takes you a minute to gather your bearings. His strangely patterned shirt is unbuttoned to the point you can barely tear your eyes away, his hair a beautiful mess of scruffs. You’d never seen him like this before.

JJ nudges your shoulder forwards, and you try to compose yourself as you approach him.

His face lights up in the slightest as he sees you, his shoulders relaxing ever-so-slightly.