Last night, the tension between you and Spencer had finally snapped. You had a fight with one of your friends, you were pissed, and Spencer asked you to go with him, after work, to a restaurant so he could take your minds off of things. Your BAU team knew — they knew you two were pretty much soulmates by now, and the two of you knew it too. But you also knew about Spencer's past: how he had lost Maeve, how he still had trauma from being in prison for a crime he didn't commit, and you didn't want to overstep, to scare him, to make him overwhelmed.

But you couldn't — it was impossible. Because Spencer Reid was in love with you like he had never been before, and Spencer, who didn't believe in love at first sight, was pretty much sure the feeling was there the moment you joined the BAU team. So he kissed you after dinner, and then he invited you over to his apartment, and one thing led to another — the two of you barely slept, really, using the time on the bed to do another kind of activity.

When morning came, though, Spencer was asleep — smiling and looking happy, cozy, like he hadn't felt in years. You scooted out of his bed and put one of his shirts on without waking him up, making sure he would get some rest, and walked to Spencer's kitchen. The smell woke him up.

When Spencer came to the kitchen wearing nothing but his grey cotton pants and his messy, pretty hair, he felt like he could melt right there and then at the sight of you: in his shirt, that barely covered the back of your thighs, making him breakfast. He knew he was fucked.

Spencer fought against it for a moment, but it won — and he walked to you, wrapping his arms around your torso as your back found his chest. Spencer's lips found the side of your head, and he kissed it.

"Morning." Spencer said in a whisper, caressing your stomach through the shirt, his shirt, you wore.

You leaned your head back a little to give him a gentle peck and chuckled, trying to focus back, but the way Spencer hugged you from behind was beyond distracting.