when spencer gets home, at 11 pm, you hear him huff a sigh from the doorway and his bag thud to the ground.

you turn from your place on the couch, where you're cozy in a blanket watching tv, and he's wearing his fbi vest and slacks.

fuck. me.

you love when he wears that stupid vest, and he doesn't even know it, it makes him look so... enforcer-y. you almost drool. he turns to you and does that little eyebrow raise and soft smile.

"hey, babe." he says, rough and scratchy. hot hot hot hot ho-

"hey, you're home." he smiles and comes to sit on the couch and unbuckles the vest. he spreads his legs wide and leans his head back, his arms over the back of the couch.