Word count: 2315
Wow it's been a long ass time anyways enjoy ( ˘ ³˘)
It was nearing midnight and you were regretting wearing such a flattering outfit.
It was only supposed to be grabbing a drink with your team, but you wanted to dress up a little because you rarely went out. Morgan wolf-whistled when you first arrived, making the rest of the table look up. You rolled your eyes and took the empty seat between Reid and Prentiss.
"So are you not gonna stay long?" Prentiss started, talking loudly over the music, but only half of the table could actually hear her. You gave her a quizzical look. "Well, I'll bet someone will offer to take you home with them within the hour. The question is, are you gonna take them up on it or not?"
You glared at her and Morgan, who was grinning ear-to-ear. "I'll have you know that I came here to spend time with my work family," you retorted, taking a sip from a glass of water that was waiting for you.
"Doesn't look like it," Morgan quipped.
Prentiss let out a laugh this time. You turned to Reid incredulously.
"Can you believe these two?" You giggled. "I'm not that late, am I? Are they tipsy already?"
Reid checked his watch, which sat above the sleeve of his sweater, as he shook his head. "Only by six minutes, but they've been drinking since they sat down fifteen minutes ago."
You moved your arm to prop your head up. "So, how long have you been here then, Doctor?"
Reid sat up a little straighter and cleared his throat. "Um, thirty-four minutes."
You quirked an eyebrow at his behavior, but you didn't see any glasses around him other than water. "No alcohol for you?"
He shook his head, averting his eyes to the drink menu but still overly aware of your presence. Maybe he just didn't know what to get.
"I don't drink often," you noted, leaning towards Reid and dragging a finger down the list to find a specific name. "but I think you would like this one."
He looked down at you, your head in front of his left shoulder, before stammering out an, "o-okay."
You smiled and leaned back. Although your proximity initially made Reid a little uncomfortable, he now found himself refraining from pulling you back. You stood up and let your hand rest on the back of his chair as you leaned in to tell him you'd go to the bar.
"Promise I won't spike your drink," you pulled back giggling before buzzing around the dancing and shuffling drunks to get to the bar.
When you were out of earshot–which basically meant a few steps away–Morgan reached across the table to clap Reid's arm.
"Ow!" he yelped. "What was that for?"
Morgan smirked, "you can't hide it, Pretty Boy, you l-"
"I do not," he interrupted before everyone else could hear.
Morgan leaned back in his seat. "See there, I didn't even have to say it. You know it."
Reid shook his head and leaned back as well, crossing his arms over his chest with a huff. His eyes searched for you again, instinctively checking on you in a way he swore was just because you were friends and in a dangerous line of work that required a constant buddy system.
He finally found you sitting at the bar, having just ordered both of your drinks. He watched the guy beside you look you up and down before sliding into the seat beside you. You glanced, then faced forward again, but the man leaned against the bar to be in your mid-peripheral vision. The distance made it difficult for Reid to read your lips, but he managed.
"Hello?" you politely asked to the man beside you.
"Hey baby," the man seemed to chuckle, "nice dress."
Reid noticed you lean slightly away from the man, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
"Um, thanks," your responded curtly, watching the bar tender.
"Want a margarita?" the man asked. "On me."
You shook your head. "I already ordered something-"
Reid stopped reading your lips, his focus now on your body language that implied you were uncomfortable and filled with anxiety, and the man's body language that implied he was not taking 'no' for an answer. You were great dealing with people in the field, but it wasn't like you could get up and return to the table empty-handed. Reid totally would have understood, seeing the situation, but you didn't know he was watching. You were too embarrassed to turn around; everyone would probably just assume you were about to get some action since you apparently dressed the part.
Reid's arm jutted out across the table before he could even think properly, smacking down in front of Morgan. Him, Prentiss, and Garcia looked up at him in shock. Before they could ask what the hell that was about, Reid began sputtering at 90 miles an hour.
"Morgan, some guy's making (Y/L/N) uncomfortable, and I'm not nearly as intimidating as you are so you need to go over there and help her plea-"
"Woah woah, just go over there yourself," he mused, encouraging Reid but still taking the situation seriously, watching you across the bar.
"No, you don't understand, I'm not-"
"Reid, you've got this. Just stand by her and he'll back off, promise."
Frustrated, Reid groaned and quickly stood from his chair, rushing to the bar. Morgan definitely would have marched over there and told the guy to get lost, but he didn't look like the kind to pick a fight, just a kind of desperate guy who wasn't too keen on boundaries.
He made it to the bar and stepped up beside you on the opposite side the man sat. The sudden presence made you shrink away, but your face lit up when you saw it was Reid. He opened his mouth but you quickly slid an arm around his waist, resting your chin on his chest as you stared up at him with a show-smile and pleading eyes, loudly calling him 'babe'. His heart thumped loudly in his chest and he hoped you couldn't hear it. In his peripheral, Reid saw the stranger slink away in defeat, and he let out a sigh of relief. You followed his gaze and saw the empty seat.
A relieved, breathy laugh came from your lungs, but you didn't remove yourself from his side. You instead rested your head on his arm when you turned back around. He awkwardly rested his hand between your shoulder blades, but retracted when it touched your bare skin.
The bar tender finally set down your drinks, apologizing for taking so long. You unwrapped yourself from Reid's side as you both picked up your glasses and made your way back to the table. You grabbed Reid's sleeve in the middle of the crowd, making him stop and turn to you. Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to hold yourself together. Reid realized something was wrong and guided you near the bathrooms, where it wasn't really quieter but at least it was less crowded.
"Spencer," you whimpered, turning into his chest. He was taken aback, to say the least, by the entire situation. His arms hovered above your shoulders, eventually wrapping around to pull you into a hug after setting both of your drinks down on a little accent table.
"Are you alright, (Y/N)?"
It was the first time you'd called each other by your first names. It seemed to be an unspoken rule in the BAU to just address your team by their last name. So while it was a small detail, it was nice to hear your name from Spencer's lips after months of working with him and quickly becoming his friend.
"I don't know what came over me. I just- I had a bad experience once and I started to panic," you admitted, now feeling embarrassed for making such a big deal out of this in front of Spencer. "I just need a second to calm down."
In the time he'd gotten to know you, Spencer never took you for one to want to talk about your feelings, so he didn't ask. If you wanted to vent, you would. He comfortingly rubbed your back as you calmed down, his cold fingers occasionally brushing your skin through the cut-out in the back of your dress. You shivered, and he quickly apologized, removing his hands.
You couldn't help but giggle. "Is that why you pulled your hand away earlier? You knew your hands were cold?"
Spencer could only stare back at you, babbling some excuse as you took both of his hands in yours and tried to warm them up. Your heart was racing but you continued as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
"You should invest in some gloves, Dr. Reid."
He smiled and played along. "Why would I do that when you're warming my hands right now?" He squeezed your fingers.
You could have sworn your heart skipped a beat, and you let out a breathy chuckle. "Yeah, I'm sure you love this Dr. Germaphobe."
"Hey!" he laughed. "I don't have mysophobia, hands are just generally covered in more germs than any other part of your body. You know, we're estimated to have around 1,500 bacteria living on each square centimeter of skin on our hands? And germs can survive for up to three-"
"Spencer," you interrupted with a shaky breath. He stopped abruptly. You never cut any of his ramblings short unless it was urgent. You tried to steady your breaths.
"(Y/N)? Are you okay? You're a little red." He observed, moving his hands to feel the warmth of your cheeks. His face was so close now as he examined you. God, was he beautiful.
"Your pupils are a dilated too," he squinted in the weird lighting. You could see the wheels turning for him.
Well, this was one way for him to find out. You reached up to hold his hands again, slowly bringing them back down as you cleared your throat.
"I like you, romantically," you blurted out before you could stop yourself. You held eye-contact with him and watched as his brain misfired.
"W-what?!" he screeched. "Since when?"
You weren't sure where this reaction was going. Slightly embarrassed, you answered, "um... like a couple weeks after I met you?"
Spencer dug his hands into his hair and frustratedly spun around before facing you again. He then lurched forward, wrapping both arms around you, making you happy albeit very confused.
"Spencer what the hell?" you laughed, fingers curling into the fabric of his sweater.
He loosened his grip to press a kiss to your cheek. "I like you too," a kiss to your other cheek. "God I wish you said something sooner, I haven't been able to focus for months!"
"Well, you could have said something too," you challenged, pulling back enough to look at him. You reached up to rest your hands on either side of his neck, gently twirling a wild strand of his hair. His hands found a place on your hips. "You're also... very difficult to focus around."
Spencer gulped. Your eyes flicked down to his lips, which quirked up as he followed your thought process. He slowly brought a hand up to cup your face, letting his thumb brush your soft lips. They sightly parted as you took in a breath, your gaze finally meeting Spencer's. His slow and gentle movements were a complete change from his usual fidgety fast pace. He was completely focused on you, on your body language, your lips.
You smiled, slightly leaning in. Spencer dipped his head down to meet your lips in the middle. A soft peck, then both leaning back to gauge the other's reaction. Spencer's arms glided around your back to pull you closer, your lips connecting again. Your hand tangled in his hair, the other gripping the fabric of his shirt like he would slip away if you let go. The kisses were gentle, yet so very desperate. Spencer let out a small sad hum as you pulled away.
"Let's head back to the table," you whispered, picking up your drinks. "They'll get worried."
His fingers brushed your shoulder, making you pause so he could give you one more kiss. You both smiled into it before you pulled back, clearing your throat. You approached the team, sitting back down beside Prentiss.
"Oh, there you are," she snorted, "Morgan wants us to arm wrestle to see who's stronger."
You shook your head, bringing your glass to your lips. "Emily is definitely stronger, no doubt," you admitted, "I mean, come on— have you seen her biceps?" Emily playfully nudged your shoulder.
"Hey Pretty Boy," Morgan taunted. "Your hair's a bit messy."
"Yeah?" Spencer put on his poker face as he reached up to fix it, or at least try to. "Sometimes I just can't control it."
Morgan hummed in response. Just as quickly as he brought it up, he forgot about it and moved on to Garcia in his tipsy state. You stole a glance at Spencer to find him already gazing at you. You shot him a quick smile before tearing your eyes away.
Only an hour and a half later, after letting the drink completely wear off, you were telling the team you were heading out, eliciting a chorus of aw's and boo's. You gave Spencer a possibly not-so-subtle look as you turned to leave. He practically shot out of his chair.
"Hey it's the middle of the night, let me walk you to your car." He hastily put on his coat, only to be pulled to the side my Morgan, who was now smirking.
"Go get her, Cowboy."