Summary: The morning after (again).
Content Warning: Penetrative sex, brief breeding kink mention
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Waking up next to Spencer in my bed that morning was somehow even more ethereal than before. Although I'd shifted several times in my sleep, he'd found me in the darkness each time so that he could cling to me again.
I didn't want to move. I was worried I would wake him and we'd return to our previous lives like this had never happened. I thought back to how tired he had looked when he first got here. I still wasn't totally certain what a profiler is, but the haunted look in his eyes and the tension in his muscles told me it wasn't easy.
I ghosted my fingers over his hand splayed out on my stomach, and the touch only served to make him pull me closer to him.
He was like a child with his favorite toy, desperately seeking out the comfort only I could provide him. I continued to run my hands along his, eventually going up his arm and quietly giggling at the goosebumps that formed. I didn't want him to wake up, but I also didn't want him to be awoken with another notice that he had to leave.
I wondered what the morning would be like without a time limit.
When Spencer began to stir, the first thing he did was bury his face between my shoulder and neck. I giggled at the tickling sensation of his breath, and he responded by peppering the area with short, light kisses.
It was my favorite way to say good morning.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," I said through the laughter.
He didn't speak, just humming back contentedly as his kisses became more involved.
"Now who's the needy one?" I teased, tilting my head to grant him more access.
"Still you," he sighed against my skin.
"You know what I really need?" I began, starting the impossible task of turning onto my back while he refused to let go of his hold on me. "Coffee."
I couldn't help but laugh at the playful groan he released in response. He clearly agreed, and even followed the joyful sound with, "And they say the perfect woman doesn't exist."
It didn't mean anything, I warned my heart as it began to race. It was just a joke.
"Well, I didn't for the first ten years of your life. But don't worry, Dr. Reid. You have me now."
The brag, paired with the reminder of our age gap, earned me my release from his embrace. I was sad to lose it, but I'd also been scared of the effect it had on me.
"Your humility is my favorite part," he said in jest as he watched me squirm out from under his arm.
I stuck out my tongue, and he spoke again.
"Wait, never mind. I forgot about that part. That's my favorite part."
My face burned as I sucked it back in before pouting and climbing out of the bed. Grateful that I still had on my negligee, I stopped to pick up his clothes and tossed them onto the bed.
"Come on, lazy bones. I don't know how you like your coffee."
He just smiled, that gentle yet goofy look that told me he was enjoying himself. I didn't stay to watch him get dressed, deciding he deserved his privacy, despite the fact that I had shoved his dick down my throat the night before.
When he got to the kitchen, the pot was already on. I was leaning forward against the counter, half asleep on my propped up hand. He didn't take a seat at the table. He positioned himself directly behind me and wrapped an arm around my chest.
The man just couldn't keep his hands to himself. I wasn't complaining.
He slipped a hand beneath the front of my negligee, becoming more daring as he gently kneaded my breast and his mouth continued to mark my neck.
"What did I do to deserve all this attention now, Dr. Reid?"
It was a serious question. I had literally just been standing there. I had just woken up. I hadn't even cleaned my face.
"Nothing. You just exist."
I both chuckled and scoffed at the answer. So much for not wanting things to be emotional. Being the more responsible of the two of us, I focused on the way his tongue devilishly drew different sounds from me.
He suckled gently on the side of my neck, and his fingers began to tweak my nipple. A moan was ripped from the back of my throat as I jutted my hips backwards against him.
"God, when you react like that I can't help but think you want me to fuck you over this counter."
He was right. I did. Men weren't the only ones who had to deal with illicit thoughts in the morning. I figured he knew as much.
"Please," I begged, moving my arms so I could brace myself against the ceramic.
"Only because you asked nicely."
He withdrew from my neck. I heard as he drew familiar, crinkly foil from his pocket and I giggled at the anticipation. At the knowledge that he'd clearly pulled one from his wallet before he ever left the bedroom.
Soon enough, his fingers were trailing up my inner thighs, quickly encountering my very wet center that was still affected by the night before. Upon realizing I didn't need any preparation, he skipped it entirely. Slowly and with purpose, he slipped inside of me. I let out another loud moan as he filled my sore heat.
"Fuck," I heard him mutter under his breath.
I loved to know he couldn't entirely control himself with me. I wanted to know how I made him feel. It wasn't like the other times. There was no battle for dominance; I submitted to him immediately and freely. He was not rushed or driven by high emotions. His thrusts were slow, deep, and intimate. One of his hands returned to my chest, paying special attention to the breast that had been ignored before.
I leaned forward into his hand, my back arching to provide him with whatever relief he was looking for inside me. I panted out his name as my own version of a Sunday morning prayer.
It went on like that for a while. He took his time with me, like he was memorizing each nook and crevice he could reach. My legs were beginning to shake from his intrusion and also from my impending orgasm.
"Spencer..." I whispered his name differently this time, and his hands withdrew. I whimpered at the loss. But my disappointment was short lived, as his hand found its way down to where our bodies met. I gasped at the contact.
"What, (y/n)?" he asked with the utmost concern, beginning to make soft circles around my clit while he continued to fuck me from behind.
"I-I'm going to..."
I couldn't finish my sentence, collapsing forward as the stimulation became too much to bare. As it usually did, his other hand grabbed hold of my hair, clutching it tightly to pull me back up to him.
"Then do it."
His statement was a demand, but also its own beg. He wanted to feel me finish before him. I couldn't fight it even if I wanted to. The way he commanded control of my body was a force that could not be ignored. The ever tightening coil inside of me snapped, causing twitches and spasms to rack my body. My mouth tried to call his name, but my voice didn't come out.
I tried to grip the ceramic when he began to pick up his pace, fucking me harder as my orgasm went on. I knew how much he loved to feel me come undone from the inside. But he held on, continuing his brutal pace until even after I had devolved into a panting, dripping mess underneath him.
My soft mewls from the sensation of being fucked through peaked bliss were still not enough.
"What do you want, little girl?" he growled in my ear as he leaned forward, somehow thrusting harder. Another moan was bubbling up my throat as my feet left the ground with each impact.
"I want... I want you to cum. Inside me."
It was a beg laced with pants and high pitched whines. It was what he wanted to hear.
He grabbed one of my hands, guiding it to my lower abdomen and holding it there. I didn't realize why until the next thrust, when I felt a bump form as he moved within me. I hadn't even considered how deep within me he was. He was showing me how much of me belonged to him.
I'd already known, but the reminder was nice.
With a few more rough, deep thrusts, he had buried himself inside of me, and I could feel it against my hand. From within me I could feel him spilling into the condom.
I remembered my question about children. I remembered his answer.
That beautiful, sneaky bastard was imagining what it would be like to make me pregnant, whether or not he would admit it. I had put the thought in his mind. I just wasn't expecting it to have that profound of effect on him. I was more turned on by that than I'd like to admit.
I had said that I'd do anything for him.
He didn't say anything else. He released my hair and pulled out of me. He left me to prop myself up on the counter the best I could while my body trembled from the loss.
At some point, the coffee pot had finished. I figured there were worse ways to pass the time.
Spencer was gone when I turned around. I figured he had gone to the bathroom to clean up, and I tried not to think anything of it. I poured two cups of coffee and pulled out the cream and sugar.
When he came back, he'd come with his phone. He sat down at the table and silently read through messages from the past hours he spent with me. I watched him prepare his drink, immediately downing some of the contents despite its temperature.
"Good lord, do you even have feeling in your throat?" I asked, laughing as I continued to stir my cup.
"Interesting you would be the one to ask me that. After last night, I wondered the same about you."
Touché.
"Did you get any interesting messages? Is the ever-so-busy Special Agent Dr. Reid going to be whisked away from me without a proper goodbye again?"
The words were laced with only a little bit of bitterness. He ignored it.
"I don't know if I would classify our goodbye last time as improper. At least, not in the sense you're using the term."
He was avoiding an answer. I figured he had to go. Or, well, he wanted to.
That's fine, I told myself. He can go. Even though I didn't want him to.
I watched him, the way he continued to nurse his drink with one hand and look at his phone with the other. I tried to suppress the hearts forming in my eyes.
"When will I get to see you again?" I asked, my tone full of trepidation.
"I'm not sure," was his honest answer, given without ever looking up at me.
"We should do something fun."
That made him look up, with a sly grin forming on his face.
"Not like that, you perverted old man," I laughed.
He raised his eyebrows, choosing not to reply outright to my taunt just yet.
"As much fun as we have in bedrooms, I don't know much about you. I'd like to change that," I explained.
He watched me carefully, his eyes shifting away as he began to overthink it. I could see the cogs of paranoia turning in his mind. I think even he knew he was being sort of ridiculous.
"As friends, Spencer," I reminded with a gentle smile. "Let's do something fun. As friends."
The reserved half smile he gave would be good enough for me.
"Sure," he conceded, which filled me with a bubbly happiness I tried (and failed) to conceal. "I do have to go now, though. If for no other reason than wanting to change."
An understandable concern. I was fine with him leaving if I knew I would see him again this time. But still, something about him leaving so soon hurt a deeper part of me. I wondered if it was that dysphoria he was talking about, but decided not to question it, lest he tell me it was something more worrisome. Something like infatuation.
I nodded, leaving my coffee on the table as I took his already empty cup. He stood up, waiting for me to return before the both of us walked over to the door. Something about his hesitation resonated in me. My puppy dog eyes were out in full force as I stared up at him.
I wasn't able to smile as he left.
"I'll see you again soon. As soon as I can," he assured me.
I wanted to believe him, but I hated that I didn't know when that would be.
He reached a hand down, brushing loose hairs from my face and commanding my attention that I so readily gave.
"Don't look so sad," he instructed. "It makes it hard to leave."
My chest swelled with anxiety and adoration. I wasn't sure how to combat it. I hugged myself with one arm, and Spencer shook his head with a laugh.
"Still not following directions."
He didn't seem to mind all that much, though. He leaned forward and cupped my face in his hand. Our lips pressed against each other with a tenderness that made my head spin. We kissed each other in a way that was carelessly romantic.
When he pulled away, he stared into my eyes for a second too long. And when he waved goodbye and walked out of my door, I couldn't get the thought out of my mind.
Friends don't do this.