Gideon had picked the restaurant, which meant that it was perfect – the lights weren't too bright, and didn't flicker or turn on and off; there was no loud music, and instead just very quiet piano playing in the background; the chairs had hard backs and leather seats, no uncomfortable textures; the foods were varied, with enough to choose from.
It still ended up being too much.
He excused himself, walking toward the bathroom before crossing around one of the dividers, moving outside and sitting down on the bench, letting his messenger bag rest on his lap, a comforting weight. Outside, he could hear the chatter of people inside the restaurant, but it was flattened out and much less overwhelming, and the comparative darkness outside soothed his tired eyes.
When the door was pushed open, Reid didn't look at Emily – he knew it was her because of the way she walked, and because she always wore a block heel, but JJ was wearing flats today. Emily didn't say anything, but just sank down onto the bench beside him, close enough that her shoulder brushed Reid's, and they were hip-to-hip. She was wearing her leather jacket, and the texture of the fabric through his cardigan, smooth and slightly cold, was a pleasant kind of distracting.
"Too loud?"
"It's not really volume so much as the way different people's voices overlap with each other – I sometimes find it kind of hard to concentrate on one person speaking when I can hear so many different conversations. It's like I'm hearing everything at exactly the same volume, and I can't prioritise any stream of stimuli. It makes my brain hurt."
"I'm sorry," Emily murmured.
"It's okay," Reid said. "I just need a little while, and then I should be okay."
"How does it feel to have him back?" Emily asked. Her voice was gentle, quiet, as if she was worried what the answer would be.
"Good. We're not on good terms again yet, but, um, but…" Reid trailed off. He didn't want to explain anymore, didn't know how to without saying things about Gideon that he didn't want to reveal – not just about their relationship, but about Stephen, about what they'd talked about at Gideon's house.
"I understand," Emily said. "He keeps glancing at you, like he's making sure you're okay. You tell him about your new boyfriend?"
"No," Reid said. "He came over to my apartment, came in while the two of us were together."
"He doesn't approve?"
"No," Reid said. "Not really."
He listened to the easy sound of Emily breathing beside him, her inhalations and her exhalations, slow, even. She put out her hand, resting it on their knees together, and Reid hesitated for a second before he put his hand down into hers. She slid her thumb over his knuckles, ticklish, and he said, "Please, don't do that. Just— just hold my hand?"
"Okay," Emily whispered, and squeezed slightly, holding Reid's hand tightly in hers.
"Can I tell you something?" Reid asked.
"Sure."
"It's Aaron," Reid said. "Hotch." Emily was quiet beside him, and Reid turned his head to look at her face, but she was looking straight forward, her expression calculatedly neutral. "You already knew?"
"I strongly suspected," Emily said. "That thing you said about Hotch and your boyfriend being completely different personalities – for some reason, that caught in my head, and I didn't understand why until I saw the two of you get into the car together after a case a few weeks ago. It was like a switch had flipped."
"I've compartmentalised the Work Hotch from the Home Hotch in my head," Reid said, smiling slightly, and Emily laughed, leaning against him. "So, you know now, and Rossi, Gideon, they already knew. I wanted to ask your advice."
"With Hotch?"
"He wants things that I… I feel like he wants things that I don't know how to give him," Reid said softly. "And I'd like to give them to him, I would, only… I've never had a relationship like this before, Emily. I don't want to mess it up."
"You won't," Emily said, and squeezed again: Reid closed his eyes shut, leaning into her. "Spencer."
"Emily?"
"Do you mind if I tell you something?"
"No, of course not," Reid said, swallowing. "You can always tell me anything, Emily."
"I, um… You know I almost never date?" she asked. Her voice was almost a whisper, and she spoke in a very low register – not that anyone was listening to them, but it wasn't always about that. She was leaning into him, holding his hand very tightly, and he leaned back into her. "You know, sometimes I go out with a guy, and it's never right. My mother wanted me to be a real debutante, she had such expectations of me, of the sort of men she wanted me to marry, and I never did."
Reid concentrated on Emily's hand, on the pulse of her heartbeat under her skin, on the slight hitch in her breaths.
"The thing is," Emily said, "I think that maybe… I think that it's possible that I, um… I think I might be gay, Spencer."
"Oh," Reid said. He wasn't sure how to reply to that, exactly, wasn't sure what the appropriate thing to say was – he wasn't sure if there was an appropriate thing to say, if there was a proper response. He'd waited too long, trying to think of what to say – his silence was probably off-putting, upsetting, maybe even being perceived as rejection. "You know, the demographics of sexual orientation are—"
"Spencer, Spencer," Emily said, laughing, sounding relieved, and her cheek rested against his shoulder. "I don't need demographics, it's okay."
"It's okay," Reid echoed back to her. "For you to be… I didn't know."
"I've never told anybody before," she said quietly. "Not a single person. It was one thing, when you told us that you were… And then when Hotch mentioned that he was into men as well, it was, um… It was a very big moment for me. Thank you."
"You're not going to ask me to help find you a girlfriend, are you?"
"Do you know any women outside of the BAU?"
"Not really."
"Then why would I ask you to find me a girlfriend?"
"Well, exactly."
Emily was laughing, shaking her head, and she drew her hand back from Reid's, putting her arms out and encouraging Reid to turn in his seat, and hug her. He did so as tightly as he dared, squeezing her against him, and she hugged him back just as tightly.
"No," she said, with another huff of quiet laughter. "No, I just… I wanted to tell you. I thought you'd understand."
"I do," Reid said. "I think. But you could tell JJ and Garcia, you know, they'd… they'd understand. I think they'd be able to introduce you to people. To women."
"I will," Emily said. "But not tonight. What about you and Hotch?"
"I want to sit on it a while longer," Reid said.
"Not tonight," Emily agreed.
When the door opened, they both looked up, and Hotch leaned outside, looking down at Emily and Reid, his lips shifting into a slight smile. "Spence," he said in a soft voice, with a warm smile, "they have a Halloween-themed sundae. I assume you—"
"Yes, please," Reid said quickly, and Hotch laughed.
"Emily?"
"I don't want any dessert," she murmured. "But thanks for asking."
"We'll just be another minute or two, Aaron."
"I'll order for you. Coffee, Emily?"
"Please."
The door closed shut, and Reid glanced at Emily's smile, at the way she'd pressed her lips together to try to keep from laughing, her cheeks dimpling, her mouth twisted.
"What?"
"I don't know," Emily murmured. "I just think it's sweet that he knows what ice cream you like."
"I don't even know what kind of ice cream it is," Reid said. "Should I have asked? He wouldn't have told me about the sundae if he didn't think I'd like it. They wouldn't make pumpkin-flavoured ice cream, would they?"
"I think it just has a cookie shaped like a Jack-o-Lantern stuck in it," Emily said.
"Oh, good," Reid said. He looked at her, smiled slightly. "You ready?"
"Yeah," Emily murmured. "You realise everyone is going to make fun of your sundae?"
"Maybe," Reid agreed. "But not as much as they'll make fun of Hotch for ordering it for me."
"How can no one else suspect?"
"Emily, it's Hotch," Reid murmured. "And me."
Emily laughed, pulling the door open and letting Reid go first. "Yeah," she said as he stepped inside. "I guess you're right."