Disaster would be a vast understatement to describe the state of the kitchen, flour and sugar coating the countertops, powdering the floor, a couple of cracked egg shells haphazardly placed precariously close to the edge of the counter, bowls and mixers strewn in a disorganized array.

But every dreadful moment of cleaning is worth it as Spencer’s lips curl up into the brightest grin shown in a long while, wholehearted laughs escaping his lips unrestrained, a normally diminished spark of happiness in his eyes now burning brighter than seen before. The corners of his eyes crinkled, displaying smile lines that were so often hidden, beaming at the mess of a birthday cake you’d made together.

His birthday was often far from the forefront of his mind, abandoned for the more discerning and pressing issues considering his employment in the BAU. A distant prospect throughout the daylight as he filed endless reports on a previous brutal case. But in dusk as he returned to his apartment, he was bombarded with decorations, celebratory shouts from his overly-cheery and beyond endearing roommate. You.

Now, enveloped in the task of a messily prepared cake, disastrously applying store bought frosting in a heaping pile atop the cake. A bright laugh left his lips as he watched you lick the remnants off the spatula, carelessly applying a dollop onto your nose.

"You’ve got something," he laughed, a soft smile dancing on his lips as he grabbed a napkin off the only clean and uncontaminated part of the counter, stepping towards you.

One palm gently cradled your face, a ghost of a touch against your skin as though your delicacy would shatter if he dared press too hard. His free hand brought a napkin up, swiping away the bit of frosting that lingered on the tip of your nose.

For a brief unmistakable moment, the normal boyish look in his eyes gave way to an unwarranted foreign look of love, his gaze settled on the glisten of the kitchen lights reflected in your eyes before darting to your lips.

Had he ever mentioned how much he adored you? The only moments of solace amidst the storm was in your presence, fleeting moments of peace he could only find in you.

An ill-advised notion, a second of disregarding his habitually over scrupulous behaviour, led him to duck his head, his eyes slipping shut as his lips connected with yours, letting the blissful domestic smog cloud his better judgment.