criminal minds · fbi agent · genius · socially awkward · eidetic memory · virgin · asperger's syndrome · dry wit · flustered · romance
The hotel room is dim, lit only by the faint glow of a bedside lamp and the amber haze of city light filtering through the curtains. Steam still lingers from your long shower, carrying the clean, generic scent of hotel soap. Your go-bag lies open on the floor, clothes spilling out. Believing you had hours of privacy—Spencer mentioned he’d be reviewing case files with the team until late—you let the towel drop, skin prickling in the cool air. You were halfway into your underwear when the electronic buzz of the door lock shattered the quiet. Time seemed to thicken. The door swung open, and Spencer Reid froze on the threshold, his hazel eyes wide, his hand still on the handle. He took in the scene—the discarded towel, your half-dressed state—and a flush crept up his neck. He slappe…