The ride back to Derek's apartment was quiet, except for the excited whimpers of Clooney in the backseat. When Derek parked, Spencer got out, grabbing his bags and walking upstairs, waiting for Derek to open the door for him. Once inside, he threw his bags down in the guest room, and Derek walked to his room, kicking off his shoes and laying down on his bed.

Spencer chewed on his lip, considering his next move. He took off his shoes and walked to Derek's bedroom, climbing on the bed and curling up beside him, resting his head on his chest.

Derek smiled, running a hand through his hair. "Hey there, Pretty Boy," he said sleepily.

Spencer bit down on his lip. "Does your mother know?"

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Does my mother know what?"

He sighed. "That you're bisexual and sharing a bed with another man?"

"Bise-" Derek looked down at him. "How did you know that?"

Spencer chewed on his lip, playing with the material on his shirt. "You've never been with a woman more than a night, but I've been here for nearly 40 days and you haven't kicked me out of bed once. No man is that comfortable with another man in his bed for that long-"

Derek laughed softly. "What happened to our moratorium on inner-team profiling?"

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was, I just, I've been around you pretty much non-stop for over a month and I figured it'd be okay if I made an assumption and I'm just going to not talk."

Derek shook his head, smiling. "She's known about my sexuality for years, and she's more than happy that I'm happy with it, but she doesn't know about this yet. It was her birthday; I didn't need to give her a heart attack."

Spencer sighed, closing his eyes. "Thank you again for doing this for me, Derek. And letting me bother you when my nightmares came back. You're really good at keeping them away."

"I'm glad I can do that for you."

They were both woken up a few hours later by Clooney jumping on the bed, stepping all over them and licking their faces.

Spencer groaned, burying his head in Derek's chest. "Is there anything on this planet worse than being woken up with dog breath?"

"Don't think so," Derek mumbled, sitting up. "Want to go out, buddy?"

When Clooney's response was running around excitedly and jumping off the bed, he sighed, getting off the bed. While putting on his shoes, Spencer pulled the blankets over his head, groaning.

"Nuh uh, if I'm getting up, so are you."

Spencer shook his head. "It's not in the roommate agreement."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "We don't have a roommate agreement."

"I'll write one. Rule number 1: Spencer gets to sleep when Derek has to get up and walk Clooney."

Derek rolled his eyes, clipping Clooney's leash on. "I'll be back in ten. Get up, I'm taking you out of the house."

"And if I don't?" Spencer asked against his pillow.

"Clooney here gets to wake you up."

Spencer groaned. "Fine."

When Derek had been gone for five minutes, Spencer sighed, getting out of the bed and making it. He walked back to the guest room, putting on his sneakers and rubbing his eyes. Derek came in a few minutes later, Clooney in tow.

"Ready to go?"

Spencer got up, shouldering his bag and walking out.

Derek laughed softly. "You're not going to need that."

Spencer raised an eyebrow. "Why not? We're going for a drive, aren't we?"

"Get your wallet and cell phone, put them in your pocket, and set the bag down."

Spencer dug through his bag, taking out his things and stuffing them into his pockets. He had to admit, he'd feel slightly naked without his bag.

"Now put this on," Derek said, holding out a motorcycle helmet.

Spencer looked over at it, eyes going wide. "We're going on your motorcycle? Derek Morgan, you do realize that in 2010 alone, there were 3,615 reported motorcycle deaths in the United States? Not to mention there were 104,000 motorcycles involved in accidents in the year 2006. They're the most dangerous motor vehicles to drive and are in accidents at a rate of 35 per 100 million miles traveled."

"We're only going about 20 miles, I think I'll take my chances."

"I realize after attempts you're supposed to seize the day and try new things, but can't you just sign me up for a cooking class or something?"

Derek looked at him incredulously. "Don't you trust me?"

"What? Yeah, of course. I've put my life in your hands countless times on the job and you've been the one person who protected me most since my attempt…"

He held out the helmet again. "Then let's go."

Spencer begrudgingly took the helmet, putting it on his head and fastening the strap. "You're the devil, Derek Morgan. I'll get my revenge. You always say that paybacks are a bitch."

"We'll see."

Spencer pulled on his jacket, following him outside.

Morgan straddled the bike, looking back at Spencer. "Get on."

Spencer took a few steps forward, considering his move. "How?"

"You used to ride a bike around school, didn't you?"

Spencer groaned. "Yes, but that didn't have a motor, travel at a rate of up to 100 miles per hour, or have a possibility of killing me. I have a renewed sense of living, Derek, and I don't want to die."

Derek rolled his eyes. "Just get on and wrap your arms around me. I won't let anything happen."

Spencer put the helmet on his head, straddling the bike and wrapping his arms around Derek's waist. "I hate you."

"We'll see if you're still saying that in a bit."

When Derek turned on the motorcycle, Spencer jumped, tightening the grip around his waist.

Derek smirked. "I thought you said you trusted me."

"I do. I don't trust other drivers not to attempt to run us over."

He shook his head. "Just hold on tight and keep that helmet on."

"Derek, I can barely hear you. How are we supposed to talk?"

"This isn't about talking. It's about relaxing. Now shh."

Spencer sighed, resting his head against Derek's shoulder as he took off.

As the ride went on, Derek could feel Spencer loosening his grip, growing more comfortable with it. He smiled to himself as he took a corner and Spencer clung to him for dear life.

"I know what I'm doing. I'm not going to let anything happen."

Spencer sighed, nodding slightly. "After this? You are not getting me out of the apartment for anything. This fulfills my adventures quota for the year. Possibly the next two years."

"I'm not even going that fast."

Spencer glanced over his shoulder. "Not that fast? You're going 58 in a 35, Derek!"

Derek shook his head, slowing down.

After they arrived back at the apartment, Spencer walked to the guest room, grabbing his journal out of one of his bags. While Spencer kept himself occupied writing, Derek unpacked his bags from the weekend.

When Spencer finished writing, he thumbed through his journal, sighing. He got up, walking to the living room.

Derek looked up at him. "Everything okay?"

He nodded. "My therapist wants me to share my inner most feelings, even if it's not with her. You're the one person I've been able to trust with everything, I just need your word that this is completely judgment free."

He raised an eyebrow. "Of course."

Spencer bit down on his lip, holding the journal out to him. "I want you to read it. It's everything I haven't been able to say out loud. I trust you enough to know that you're not going to hold any of it against me. If you want to talk about anything in there, I'm more than willing."

Derek took the journal, glancing at him. "You're sure about this? This is like reading someone's diary…"

"Yeah, I just need to get it all out there, and I can't exactly say it all without getting upset, but it's all in there, I promise."

"Do you want to stay out here while I read this, or-"

Spencer put up a finger, walking to the guest room and grabbing a few books. He walked out to the living room, setting them down on the table and sitting in the armchair.

Derek shook his head. "Is that enough to keep you occupied?"

"We're going to find out." He picked up one of the books, opening it.

While Spencer sat in the armchair scanning through his books, Derek read his journal, being sure to get every single word. He could feel himself getting upset, but didn't let it show. That's not what Spencer wanted. He wanted him to finally get a full understanding of what he did and what he was feeling.

Derek reached one part and put in a piece of paper to mark his page. "Spencer?"

Spencer looked up, closing his own book. "Hm?"

"…Who's Keith?"

Spencer bit down on his lip, sighing. He dreaded Derek asking that question, but knew it was coming. He set his book down, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes.

"If you don't want to tell me, it's fine. You don't have to."

Spencer shook his head, swallowing. "I did this for a reason." He shifted slightly, considering what he was going to say. "Keith was my first, and only, boyfriend. When I was dating him was back when my thoughts about suicide started."

"…Did it end that badly?"

He sighed. "We were great together at first, but six months before we broke up, he started turning to alcohol instead of talking through his problems. He'd get really angry with me, no matter what I'd do or say, and he'd hit me. A lot. I left him behind in Vegas when I came here for FBI training, and I never heard from him again. Someone back home updated me not too long ago that he was arrested for assault."

"He started this?"

He nodded slightly. "He's what made my self-worth so low in the beginning at the BAU, and he's why I started doubting myself and doubting anyone giving a damn about me." He pulled his arms into his sleeves, closing his eyes. "He knew about my mother and tried to tell me I was just crazy like her, and nobody would believe me if I accused him of assault."

"Did you ever?"

He shook his head. "He really knew how to get into my head, and make me feel like his word was law. I couldn't find it in me to tell anyone or walk away. That's why I was so eager to get into the FBI early. I got away from him and that's all I wanted."

"Does anybody else know about him?"

"Nobody back home knows what he did, but I ended up telling Garcia this weekend. Not to this extent, though." He bit down on his lip. "You're the first person to really know about him." He could feel himself getting upset and tried to hide it, but was failing miserably.

Spencer got up, walking over and sitting beside Derek. If he was going to open himself this much, he was going to have his security blanket right there with him.

"You didn't mention a last name," Derek said, looking up at him.

He pulled his knees up to his chest. "There's a reason for that. I didn't even give Garcia a first name, because I don't want anyone I care about to end up in jail for hunting that bastard down and giving him what he deserves. He'll get his eventually, and I don't want to lose someone that matters to me because of him."

Derek looked at the journal. "I don't have to keep doing this."

"You don't have to – I want you to," he whispered, wrapping his arms around his legs.

"You're sure?"

He nodded slightly, and the rest of that night was spent with Spencer answering any questions that Derek came up with.

When they went to bed that night, Spencer curled up beside him, resting his head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around him, seeming much more relaxed than he had been. Derek smiled, rubbing his back.

"Thanks for sharing all of that with me, Pretty Boy."

Spencer bit his lip. "Thanks for caring enough to want to know that much about me. I just hope you're not going to judge me too harshly because of it."

He ran a hand through Spencer's hair. "Do you know how strong you are?"

Spencer shrugged. "I have a scar on my wrist that begs to differ."

Derek shook his head. "You've overcome way too much to not be a strong person. Your dad leaving, your mom being sick, being bullied, an abusive relationship, and everything you've gone through since joining the BAU? You survived all of it. You're strong and you matter."

Spencer smiled slightly. "You mean it?"

"Of course."

Spencer exhaled, thinking about what he was going to do next. "Hey, Derek?"

He looked down at him. "What's up, kid?"

Spencer tilted his head up, capturing Derek's lips with his.

He couldn't help but feel relieved when Derek didn't push him away and seemed to be enjoying the kiss. Unlike with Keith, this felt right: he was in a great place and he was excited and genuinely happy. He didn't feel like he had to do this, he actually wanted to.

Derek reached up, lacing a hand in Spencer's hair, pulling him in closer. Spencer smirked, closing the gap between them. He didn't even notice that he'd started crying.

Derek pulled back, looking at him. "…Spencer, I'm sorry. What's wrong?"

Spencer shook his head, wiping his eyes. "Shh." He leaned in, kissing him again. "I don't want to talk," he started, between kisses. "I just need this."

Derek smiled, respecting his wishes. They only stopped when Clooney ran in, jumping on the bed and nudging their heads with his.

Spencer panted slightly, smiling. "That either means 'it took you two long enough' or 'you two are grossing me out."

"Let's go with the former." He scratched Clooney behind the ears. "Don't worry, buddy, you're still my number one."

Spencer laid back down, the smile seemingly permanent on his face. He reached a hand over, scratching Clooney's stomach. "There we go."

Clooney finally gave them space a few minutes later, curling up at the foot of the bed and falling asleep, snoring softly.

"Pretty Boy?"

"Hm?" Spencer asked tiredly.

"Nuh uh. There is no way you get to use that lip action and then go to sleep."

He internally groaned, opening his eyes and looking up at him. "What do you want to know?"

"What just happened?"

"Well," he started, yawning, "you told me how strong I am, and explained every detail, I asked if you meant it, you said 'of course', and then I kissed you." His mind started nagging him. "…and that's probably the last thing you wanted. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'll just go to my room and stop bothering you, I'm sorry."

Spencer pushed himself up, attempting to get off the bed. Derek shook his head, grabbing his arm and pulling him back down.

"Derek, what are you doing?"

He sat up, wrapping his arms around Spencer's waist, pulling him closer. "You did not do anything wrong, and you're not bothering me, you hear me?"

"But-"

"But nothing."

He sighed, biting his lip. "I shouldn't have done it."

"Did you see me telling you no?"

"No, but-"

"Did I pull back or act disgusted?"

"No, but that could've been you being nice."

"Have you been in my bed for the last month and a half?"

"Yes?" Spencer replied, unsure of where this was going.

"And have you talked to me every single night since then?"

"Of course, you're the one person I'm most comfortable with-"

"Have I ever mentioned anything about you being a bother or an inconvenience?"

"Not out loud-"

Derek cut him off. "Have I?"

Spencer quickly shook his head.

"Then what's the problem?"

Spencer chewed on his lip. "We're roommates and co-workers. Roommates and co-workers shouldn't be kissing. That's crossing a major line, not to mention the trouble we'd be in at work, considering we just had an anti-fraternization lecture last week. We should also factor in that I'm in a highly emotional mindset right now and shouldn't have even been thinking about doing it, let alone actually doing it. Then there's-"

Derek shook his head, leaning over and kissing him again. "After eight and a half years, I've finally found your mute button. Definitely remembering that one."

"So, you're not disgusted by me?"

"I would never be."

"…And you didn't mind it."

"…Does it look like I did?"

Spencer smiled slightly, laying back down and curling up beside him.

Derek sighed, running a hand through Spencer's hair. "You know, you're not the only one with skeletons in your closet, Spencer. You may have had yours aired out without wanting to, but I promise you, you're not alone."

Spencer raised an eyebrow, looking up at him. "What?"

"Everyone has had a 'Keith' in their life, whether it was an ex, someone you thought you trusted, someone you cared about – there's always somebody that's found a way to screw you over and turn you into a completely different person than you'd like to be."

"What would you know about it?" Spencer asked, trying not to sound insulting.

Derek sighed. "Carl Buford, Spencer."

"The owner of the community center that murdered children and we caught him five years ago… what about him?"

Derek rubbed his back, squeezing his arm. "He was mine. He drew me in, he let me trust him, he promised me the world: athletic scholarships and a career in the NFL if I'd listened to him. What kid was going to pass that up?"

Spencer wanted to respond, but knew this was a rare time where Derek wanted him to listen.

"So, I did anything and everything to impress him and make him proud of me. He'd let me drink with him, watch R-rated movies, and pretty much do whatever I wanted when I was in his company." Derek bit down on his lip, trying his best to keep his composure. "He would 'help' me, and he'd tell me no matter what he did, it was to further my career and make myself better."

"He was a pedophilic serial killer," Spencer butt in, finally realizing what he was saying, "Derek…"

"He made me what I am, Spencer. Everything he put me through, everything I had to get over? He shaped me. He made me want to become an FBI agent and get people like him." He squeezed Spencer's arm again. "I want you to remember that. We've all been through hell and back, and you're never alone."

Spencer tilted his head and reached a hand up, wiping a stray tear from his cheek. "If you ever need to talk about it, or anything, I'm here… I mean, you've done it enough for me, it's the least I could do."

Derek smiled slightly, kissing his forehead. "Thanks."

"Derek?" Spencer asked, shortly before dozing off.

Derek ran a hand through Spencer's hair. "What is it, Spencer?"

He chewed on his lip. "…What are we?"

"Well," Derek started, stretching slightly. "I'd say that just roommates and co-workers is totally out the window at this point."

Spencer smirked. "Obviously."

He rubbed Spencer's back, humming softly. "I guess, I don't know. Friends with benefits doesn't seem very fitting, considering we haven't gone there yet."

Spencer raised an eyebrow. "Friends with benefits? What's that? We have health insurance through work, along with dental. Those benefits?"

Derek bit down on his lip to hold in his laughter. "Sorry, I forgot how naïve you are about today's realities. Friends with benefits is another way to say friends who hook up-" he saw the confused look on Spencer's face and tried again. "Two people who know each other, and share a bed in a much different way than we are."

Spencer thought about it and it finally clicked. "Oh. Yeah, definitely not that."

"You've been in a dark place, and I don't want to say something that will put you in an uncomfortable position, so I guess it's up to you. What do you think we are?"

"Well, I think that we were co-workers, we're now roommates, and we're both horrible at determining anything, so we should just play it by ear and let things happen as they will."

"…Did you just apply logic to you mauling me with your lips?"

Spencer blushed, burying his head in Derek's chest. "Good night, Derek."

After Spencer had fallen asleep, Derek looked down at him. It was hard for him to believe the progress that Spencer had made over the last month and a half, and incredible to see where he was right now. He knew Spencer had his demons, everyone did, and was glad he could be the one to fix them.

"And Derek?" Spencer mumbled against his chest, barely awake.

"What is it, Spencer?"

He yawned, curling closer and pulling up the blankets. "We are not telling anyone at work what happened. Garcia would have a field day with photoshop."