Spencer and Owen had booked their trip for the third week of March when MIT was having their spring break. It was the first time the two of them had made travel plans together- booking flights over the phone and getting a hotel room. Neither one of them was old enough to get a rental car, but Owen had a friend of a friend who would pick them up from the airport.
Owen spent February and March the same way he spent January after getting mugged- working crazy hours at MIT and picking up bartending shifts whenever he could. Spencer had stopped bugging Owen about his work schedule when Owen started sending him academic papers on coping with trauma, but Spencer was a little worried about how Owen would react to a whole week without work, in a different city and a cheap hotel room.
The two of them were both excited though, for the prospect of seeing DC but also to be spending a whole week together, uninterrupted. Owen had taken the lead on packing their suitcases- ever since 9/11 Spencer had gotten exceedingly anxious about accidentally committing a felony against TSA.
"Do you know where my passport is?"
"Why would I know where your passport is?"
"Because you know everything." Owen sighed and looked up from his suitcase at his boyfriend, laying across their bed. "Can you go look for it? In the office, maybe? With the rest of my identity documents."
Spencer agreed, kissing Owen on the top of his head as he walked past him to go scour their office.
"Can you check the weather for next week too?" Owen called out to his boyfriend. He wasn't sure if he heard a response, but he trusted Spencer to find out.
Owen heard the sound of Spencer rummaging through the drawers of his desk and the dial-up internet starting. His boyfriend had heard him after all. Owen flopped down on his bed, eagle spread and tired. All of the extra time he had been spending at MIT had left him mentally exhausted and he was ready for a break. Maybe I can just close my eyes for a few minutes, Owen thought, settling down into his bed.
"I found your passport. It's going to be super wet next week, so bring a rain jacket." Owen felt Spencer sitting down next to him on the bed, and his boyfriend setting his passport down on his stomach. "If you're tired, I can finish packing."
"No, I can do it."
Owen didn't even convince himself with that. He ended his sentence with a yawn, and Spencer kissed his forehead. He was asleep before Spencer had moved his passport.
The next morning, Owen woke up before Spencer, which was strange. It was a Thursday- Spencer taught an 8:10 seminar for some reason, and Owen knew it was going to be a long day. They were leaving Friday afternoon after both of them were done with their classes and meetings for the day.
Owen liked waking up before Spencer, even if it didn't happen often. It reminded him of living alone, putting himself through his old routine of making coffee, walking to his mailbox to get his New York Times while he waited for the pot to fill, and doing the crossword over breakfast. Owen grabbed the newspaper from his mailbox without looking at the front and made it back to his dining room table before he looked at the cover.
BUSH ORDERS START OF WAR ON IRAQ; MISSLES APPARENTLY MISS HUSSEIN
Owen wasn't surprised, exactly. This had been a long time coming, and most of the country supported military action. It wasn't fun to be confronted with the realities of United States Imperialism at 7 am before he had started his coffee, though.
Spencer was going to want to move their trip to DC- even if he and Owen weren't talking about politics together, there would be no way to avoid the protests and resistance to the war if they went to DC tomorrow. Maybe this would be good for Spencer, though, seeing the realities of what his government was calling for up close and personal.
Whatever. Owen rolled his eyes and flipped his newspaper to the arts section, pulling out the crossword and fishing a ballpoint pen out of one of the kitchen drawers. He sat back down at the kitchen table with his pen and his coffee, but he couldn't focus on the crossword in front of him. His eyes were drawn to the front page, the cover stories on the ins and outs of the United States foreign policy and military involvement.
Owen might have left the social sciences when he graduated from college, but he was still a sucker for articles explaining the world around him. Spencer found him in the kitchen half an hour later, drawing out a timeline on a napkin, trying to figure out what was going on.
"What happened? They discover time travel?"
Spencer yawned as he spoke, making his way past Owen towards the coffee maker.
"Bush invaded Iraq."
"What?" Spencer dropped his mug into the sink, swearing loudly when it shattered.
Owen was quick to help his boyfriend clean up the mess, explaining what he had read so far to Spencer as they cleaned up the ceramic shards from the sink.
"So, I take it you want to move our trip to DC?"
"Why? All we have to do now is add picketing the White House to our to-do list."
Spencer rolled his eyes at that- he knew Owen was half-serious.
"If I get arrested I'll get barred from the FBI."
"Oh, come on, Spencer, you're not going to get arrested for picketing the White House. What are the statistics again?"
Spencer held his tongue- he knew the statistical likelihood of him, a non-threatening 21-year-old white guy in a blazer and an ugly tie, getting arrested for waving a sign in front of the White House were small. He also knew Owen was definitely joking. But that wasn't the point- it was the principle of the thing.
"I don't want to do anything that could jeopardize my future, Owen. I have things I'm going to do with my life, and I can't fuck that up on purpose."
"Why are you yelling at me over a fucking joke, Spencer?"
Spencer hadn't realized he had raised his voice.
"I'm going in early today." Owen stood up fast from the kitchen table, leaving his newspaper and coffee. "I can drive myself."
Owen knocked on the door to Mark's office twenty minutes after he got to MIT. Mark worked insane hours, but Owen was a little surprised that he was there before 8 am. It took maybe twenty minutes for Owen to start crying on the floor.
"I just don't know what happened, Mark! Everything was fine until he applied for that stupid FBI position and now everything is falling apart!"
Mark just sat there, in his desk chair, letting Owen have his moment.
"I love him so much but I'm so scared for him- I just want him to be safe and I want him to stay with me! What's wrong with Boston?"
"Well, for starters the sun sets at 4 pm and the snow is grey instead of white, and we're sitting on a bunch of floating garbage from the 1700s."
Owen rolled his eyes and wiped away his tears. Mark was right- Owen didn't really like Boston either, but his life was here! He had worked hard his entire life to end up at a good school, and Ph.D. positions at MIT weren't something to throw away.
"He doesn't have to yell at me about it! I just can't believe he yelled at me! I mean who does he think he is, yelling at me?"
Owen sniffled and sat up.
"Mark, I don't want to break up with him. I love Spencer so, so much but I don't know what to do."
"Who said you had to break up? You could just put in the work to move past this, couldn't you?"
"I don't know, Mark. I've never dated anybody this long- Spencer hasn't either. He's never dated anybody, really.
Mark sighed and reached down to pat the top of Owen's head. He knew Owen well enough to let him ramble for as long as he needed. Owen was retelling every argument they had gotten in since January- little things about splitting bar tabs and big things like making Spencer get rid of his dining room table when he moved in. Owen felt like his relationship was falling apart at the seams, and the more he talked about it the more raggedy it seemed.
Spencer sent Owen an email after 2 hours of anxiety about it. Short and sweet, asking if they could eat lunch together. Owen's response was equally short: sure.
Owen was going to be in his office if Spencer knew him at all. It was a quick walk for Spencer to get there, and he knocked on Owen's closed door.
"It's open!"
Spencer opened the door to see Owen sitting at the table in his office with two people- undergrads puzzling through an E&M Problem Set by the looks of it. There were equations and diagrams on the blackboard, and Owen was pouring over a textbook. He looked up at Spencer, eyes still red from crying, and smiled half-heartedly.
"Hey, Spencer. Can you wait 10 minutes? We're most of the way through figuring out torque on a loop."
"Yeah, sure."
Spencer hesitated, unsure of where to sit. He cleared off one of the chairs in Owen's office and made himself comfortable, watching Owen talk his kids through their problems.
Owen was a lot better at teaching than Spencer. He was patient, letting his students guess their answers and work towards their answers on their own. It probably helped that these were smart kids, too- MIT Physics majors were at the top of their field for a reason. It took a little longer than Owen's estimate of 10 minutes, but the undergrads were on their way with their problem sets mostly done.
"Can you close the door?" Owen asked Spencer, sitting down in his office chair.
"Why do I feel like I'm in trouble?"
"Should you be?"
Spencer paused when he closed the door. He felt like he should be getting chewed out right now. He had fucked up this morning- yelling at Owen even if he didn't mean to.
"Owen, I don't know what to do here. I've never been in a relationship- this is the one thing I can't figure out how to do with a book and it's killing me. I'm so sorry for yelling at you and I'm sorry for being such an asshole about the FBI thing."
Owen smiled at Spencer. He was tired, emotionally, and physically, and trying to hold off on crying until after lunch. Spencer hadn't seen him cry yet, and Owen was trying to hold on to that as long as he could.
"Can we get something to eat before we talk?"
"Sure."
Their walk to the nearby Greek place was quiet- Spencer wasn't sure what to say to Owen and Owen didn't want to say anything, in case he started crying. He knew it was silly, a stupid boys don't cry mentality was just an internalization of toxic masculinity, but he didn't want Spencer to see his feelings.
Owen ordered a beer with his lunch, even though it was 12:30 on a Thursday. Spencer didn't comment on it.
"So, can we talk now?" Spencer pushed the basket of fries towards Owen. "We're eating."
"Sure." Owen picked at his coaster. "I'm sorry for pushing you so much on the FBI thing. You're allowed to have your dreams."
"But?"
"But nothing. You're a grownup- a fucking genius by any standards. You can do what you want with your life."
Spencer sighed. "Okay."
Owen bit his lip, sipping his beer to keep himself from talking. He didn't want to tell Spencer that he couldn't imagine a future without him, that he knew he would follow Spencer to the ends of the Earth if it meant they could be in love just like this forever.
"I don't want you to get hurt, Spencer. I know what happens to gay people in the military and in the government office buildings and I don't want it to happen to you."
Spencer grabbed Owen's hand on top of the table. "You don't have to worry about me, Owen. I'm a grownup, remember?"
Owen laughed at that, smiling at Spencer and squeezing his hand back.
"Plus, who's to say the FBI will ever hire me after they thought I was a terrorist. That kind of thing sticks in your record."
Owen liked DC more than he wanted to admit. He loved the bars and the free museums, how it was a little warmer than Boston, and that he was getting Spencer's undivided attention. Spencer held his hand when they walked around, something he didn't like doing in Boston.
Spencer was feeding Owen strawberry ice cream on the National Mall. It was something out of a coming of age movie- the sun was shining and it wasn't that muddy out. Spencer still managed to complain about the cold, though.
"If we were in Las Vegas right now it would be 85 and sunny."
"And then you'd be complaining about how sweaty you are."
"I don't know how you're eating ice cream right now."
"It's 60 degrees out?"
Spencer looked at Owen, who was smiling at him. His boyfriend was wearing gas station sunglasses and a ratty flannel over a buck fush shirt he made with his ex-girlfriend, but he was the prettiest thing Spencer had ever seen. Owen's dark hair was all over the place, his cheeks flushed pink, and he looked like something out of a painting.
Owen kissed his boyfriend, pushing his sunglasses on top of his head.
"Are you ready to go?" Owen asked, grabbing his ice cream from Spencer.
Spencer looked towards the National Gallery. It was busier than he would've thought, for a random Tuesday in March.
"Yes!"
Owen finished his ice cream, throwing the empty bowl into a nearby trashcan. Holding Spencer's hand, the two of them made their way towards the museum. Spencer was scanning the crowd out of habit and stopped in his tracks when he recognized a face.
Aaron Hotchner, second in command at the BAU and the one who pinned him on the cafeteria floor as he was handcuffed, was walking into the museum, hand in hand with a woman who Spencer assumed was his wife.
Spencer's chest tightened and his vision blurred. He couldn't imagine what would happen if he ran into him in some gallery- would they make small talk? Would Aaron even recognize that this was the man who had tried to arrest him under the Patriot Act? Spencer's mind was moving at the speed of light and all he could focus on was how he felt like he was about to be sick.
"What's up?" Owen looked at his boyfriend, head tilted and eyebrows furrowed. "Are you okay?"
"I want to go, Owen. I don't think I can"
Spencer looked back to the entrance, his stomach twisting into a knot.
"Hey, Spencer, look at me." Owen pulled his boyfriend towards him. "What's going on? You spent the entire flight here rambling about Mary Cassatt and how much you wanted to see her paintings, and now you don't even want to go to the museum?"
"I just, I can't Owen. He…"
Spencer trailed off. It was absolutely insane of him to be doing this. Irrational, silly, childish. To be throwing a fit overseeing Aaron Hotchner, on his day off, entering a museum filled with thousands of people, terrified to enter.
"He who?"
It was silly. Spencer knew it was silly and he didn't want to tell Owen why he was panicking, so he stayed silent. He could feel his heart about to burst out of his chest, the cold sweat on the back of his neck, and how clammy his hands were.
"Spencer, if you're this upset we don't have to go. It's fine- really"
"Okay." Spencer's heart rate dropped a little when Owen said that. "Thank you."
"Of course." Owen held Spencer's hand a little tighter as he spoke. "Now I get to drag you to New York to go to the Met this summer."
Spencer looked at Owen, eyes blurring from tears he didn't know were in his eyes. Owen was beautiful in the sunlight, brown eyes warm and sparkling yellow in the light. Spencer reached out to push the hair off of Owen's face and his boyfriend smiled at him.
"What do you want to do instead?"
"Well, maybe we can go to the White House? Stop at the liquor store for cardboard on the way?"
"Don't joke." Owen kissed Spencer's cheek, lips sticky from his ice cream. "C'mon, we can go to the Spy Museum like you want to."