Dune Point {Spencer Reid x Reader}

• Five •

As you opened each box, Spencer asked "Is there any way you want to organize these?"
"Uh, just give me that box," indicating the one he was crouched over, "and we can just put them in any order." Spencer nodded, handing you the much smaller box labeled 'PERSONAL' and began unpacking the others.

"Why is it labeled 'PERSONAL'?" Spencer inquired.
"That's personal, genius." You quipped back with a smile.
"Well, I just figured there was a story there or..." Spencer trailed off, looking at you expectantly, hoping you'd give him a meaningful answer.
"Uh, it's just..." you took a sigh, "some of my favorites, I guess."
"You guess?" Spencer kept his expectant look, waiting for something more. But all you gave him back was, "I guess." You nodded and unpacked.

The two of you remained contently silent as Spencer filled the shelves with your other piano and vocal books while you sifted through the ones in your box to make sure they made the move safely.

"What song is that?" Spencer spoke up, catching you off guard.
"Hm?"
"What are you humming?" You hadn't noticed you'd been humming one of the tunes out loud as you skimmed the music. You began to burn up thinking about the song. It's all about teenagers discovering sex and singing about being touched. So you meekly replied, "It's, uh... T-Touch Me from Spring Awakening." You awkwardly nodded with your own version of Spencer's signature tight-lipped smile and averted your gaze to take a sip of your coffee.

"Hm. Never heard it. It sounded beautiful though. Very... sensual lyrics." Your eyes widened and you almost spit out your drink as Spencer gave a playful smirk.
"I was singing the lyrics?!" You clasped your hand over your mouth. You knew you were humming the chorus, so that only meant you were singing only the most sexual part of the song.

Touch me
Just like that
And that oh yeah,
Now that's heaven,
Now that I like,
God that's so nice
Now lower down,
Where the figs lie

Spencer laughed with you, presumably at how red you'd become.
"So, what else lies in that inventory?"
"Oh, uh, just musicals that have really beautiful music. I usually play these ones in particular when I... really feel the urge to, uh..." You trailed off, hoping Spencer was understanding what you were getting at. He was, but he wanted to hear you say it. He was dying for you to tell him something. He hated the unknown.

Spencer Reid definitely had at least a hint of a savior complex.

"The urge to what?" He wasn't so much as pushing, but friendlily nudging. He then noticed your silent hesitance and quickly followed up with, "I'm sorry you don't have to talk about this if you don't want." Then he quieted down and patiently awaited your reply.
"...to burn." You sheepishly muttered with a crack in your voice, feeling Spencer worried eyes dig into you.

Gathering all the bravery you could, you pulled your focus from the space around him and placed your eyes on Spencer's.
"Can I... see?" Spencer pushed the Drowsy Chaperone piano book he was holding into the cabinet he was filling up and held out his hand that awaited your company. "I just wanna see how you're doing."

You knew this much was true: at some point you were going to have to rip the bandaid off... and you also so desperately missed the grasp of Spencer's hand holding yours. Thus, without a second thought, you glanced to the floor as you gently placed your hand in his comfortable grasp, the tips of his long fingers holding your palm open.

Suddenly the room felt airless, devoid of all oxygen as Spencer's eyes examined the welts. He soon noticed your hand begin to shake in his and your breathing significantly pick up.

"Y/N?" Spencer lifted his head to look at you, noticing your face flush.

"Okay, hey, hey, Y/N, it's just me. Okay? It's just Spencer." Keeping his grip calm on your hand, he brought his left hand up to your shoulder, clutching it a bit harder than your hand trying to still your movements. You dared not to look at him as you felt yourself begin to fade in and out of reality. Spencer moved the hand that rested on your shoulder to cup your cheek and turn you to face him, but you dodged his concerned gaze.