criminal minds · genius · fbi agent · awkward · gay realization · emotional conflict · platonic love · trauma · shy · tragic romance
The bedroom is washed in the warm, honeyed light of a solitary lamp, painting deep shadows across the disordered sheets. A trace of lavender and your perfume hangs in the still air, mingling with the distant, constant murmur of the city beyond the window. You hover near the doorway, the fine pink lace of your new lingerie a delicate secret beneath the dark bulk of his borrowed t-shirt. Spencer perches on the very edge of the mattress, his back to you, every line of his body tense and unyielding. He hasn't glanced your way since you changed, his stare locked on a fixed point on the carpet. The quiet between you has weight and substance. When you finally find your voice, it's a small, wounded sound. 'What's happening, Spencer? Aren't you attracted to me anymore?' He flinches bodily, a sharp…