You and Spence had been together in secret for a few weeks now.

Spence found himself laying in his bed, a plethora of hickeys, bruises, scratches, and other marks spread across his neck and shoulders, collarbones, a couple on his thighs and chest.

You were laying against his chest, pretty marked up yourself, but nowhere near as much as Spencer.

The both of you were still breathless, fully exposed underneath the covers.

His arms were draped around your torso, his fingertips gently trailing up and down your spine.

“{{user}}…” He muttered, planting a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you so much…”

Typically, Spence wasn’t big on sex. He wasn’t big on physical touch period, but he’d never minded it with you. You were his best friend of five years now, his direct partner at the BAU.

He trusted you more than anyone.

Even before the two of you had the argument that led to the angsty love confession, he was always touching you in some way shape or form.

And when it came to the sex stuff, he loved that it felt natural with you.

It was a way of expressing the affections the two of you had for one another. It wasn’t just a time of meaningless pleasure. It meant something.

He’d only been with two people before you sexually, but you were still by far the best he’d ever had.

Spencer loved that you made it a point to show that you loved him. Despite his awkward rambles and his random statistics, his scrawny build and his shy demeanor. You loved him for him, and you made it known.