Spencer hadn't been able to get Owen out of his mind. Even though they only talked when they were in each other's cities, Spencer didn't think he would ever be able to move on. Maybe it was the fact he could never forget anything- especially how loved he felt with Owen. He had been with the BAU for nine months now and had fully settled into his new routine.
Every Monday morning, he would water his plants, put fish food in the timed feeder, and pack his go-bag. He would miss the first two trains and settle for the third, and he would be on a jet to somewhere else by lunch. Spencer loved his life.
Owen was due to arrive in DC on a Thursday night- he told Spencer that there was some physics conference going on in DC and he was planning some small-scale fraud to stay with Spencer instead of a hotel. Spencer's stomach had been doing backflips all day, but it might've been the coffee he had been drinking. Spencer had rushed through some of his closing paperwork to make sure that he would be able to get out of Quantico with enough time to shower before he had to go to Dulles to pick up Owen.
His team could sense something was going on with Spencer, mostly because it wouldn't take a profiler to figure out Spencer was anxious about something. He had taken to pacing around the round-table room while reading case files, and he had ducked out for more smoke breaks than usual.
It's a bad habit. You shouldn't pick it up if you can avoid it.
Owen's voice rang through Spencer's mind every time he lit up, reminding him that he was smart enough to have never started smoking in the first. Didn't make much of a difference when he couldn't go an hour without a cigarette, and it didn't change the fact that Spencer had grown fond of the smell of American Spirits, light green.
Somehow, Spencer made it to 5:00, just in time to hit the locker rooms at Quantico before he had to head out to the airport. He was nervous, he could feel the sweat pricking in his armpits as he fiddled with the radio while he drove. Owen never used to make Spencer nervous, but ever since they had started their long-distance causal relationship Spencer had been having anxiety episodes every time he was supposed to see Owen.
Owen kissed Spencer when he picked him up from the airport, and Spencer didn't immediately push him off. Spencer assumed Owen was on some sort of emotional high- same-sex marriage had been legalized in Massachusetts the month before and Owen called him blackout drink in some gay bar to scream in his ear about it. Plus, Spencer appreciated the affection. He had been trying to date since he last saw Owen, but with how much he traveled for work he rarely made it past the second date.
Kissing Owen felt like home, even though Spencer really did feel at home in DC.
There was more to the question of whether or not Spencer loved Owen- he couldn't quite puzzle out what the feeling in his chest was. They didn't hold hands as they walked to Spencer's car, Spencer was sure to walk a few steps ahead of Owen at all times so he wouldn't be tempted. They resigned themselves to small talk while they walked to Spencer's car, and Spencer made the split-second choice to hand Owen the keys to drive home.
"I don't think I can drive, babe. I had a few too many beers in the airport bar and they had half-off Cape Cods on the flight."
Spencer laughed at that, but he couldn't shake the fact that he couldn't tell Owen was tipsy. Spencer was also excited to drive Owen somewhere, something Owen usually protested if he was able to.
When Spencer hit 110 on the highway back to DC, Owen didn't bat an eye. Instead, he bent down to rummage through his backpack for something, muttering something under his breath as he went.
"What?"
"I said that I guess this is probably the best time to tell you that I don't actually have a conference to go to."
Spencer choked on the coffee he was sipping, spitting coffee out on to his pants.
Fuck. He had just done laundry.
"What?"
"I wanted an excuse to come out and see you, I guess." Owen lit a cigarette as he cracked his window. "I had to 'consult' with some people on my thesis and I picked somebody at George Washington so I could come down and see you, but it really could've been done over email if I wanted to."
"So, you fabricated an elaborate backstory to get MIT to fly you out- all so you could see me?"
"Yes." Owen stared at Spencer, who kept his eyes ahead of him on the road. "Are you mad?"
"I think it's the sweetest thing anybody's ever done for me."
"Don't read too much into it, babe." Owen said, blowing out a mouthful of smoke, "I think I'm in love with this girl I met last weekend."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah- her name is Afra. I think you'd like her- she's a waitress at the bar we used to go to all the time."
"You think I'd like her?"
"Well, maybe like is a strong word, but I think you'd get along."
"Can we not talk about the other people you're dating right now."
"Oh, I'm not dating her. More like met her once and got her number, and now I'm too scared to talk to her."
"Still."
Spencer held his hand out and Owen stuck his half-smoked cigarette between his fingers. Spencer laughed and brought it to his lips. It was strangely intimate- sharing a cigarette with the only person Spencer had ever really loved before, and Spencer tried to squash the feelings bubbling up in his stomach.
"So, what are our plans for dinner?"
Owen rolled over in bed, head pounding and his mouth dry, sliding his feet onto Spencer's warm thigh in his half-awake state. He groaned and threw his arm over Owen, pulling the man into his arms. Owen curled into Spencer's side and yawned, getting comfortable for a minute before he remembered it was a Friday. He looked down at his watch- 9:38 a.m. plenty of time before his 11:40 meeting with a professor at George Washington. Spencer kissed the crown of his head as he woke up.
"It's nice waking up next to you." He mumbled into his hair, tracing his fingers along his stomach as he spoke. "Almost makes me want to quit his job."
"You better not. I didn't break your heart only for you to quit your job."
Spencer rolled his eyes and moved closer to Owen in bed.
"I know."
Spencer kissed the top of his head again, before kissing the back of his ear, his neck, and his shoulder, holding his lover tighter with each peck. Owen had to admit- Spencer got him on a level nobody else ever had. Plus, there was that thing he did with his tongue that drove Owen wild, which was a pretty convincing argument on its own.
"What time is it?" He asked, still kissing Owen's neck with one hand making its way up his thigh. "Because I can think of so many things I want to do to you before I have to go to work."
"9:42"
Spencer stopped kissing Owen and sat up, pushing off the sheets and duvet as he got up. "I'm late for work."
"What?"
"I have to be at work by 8. I'm gonna shower super quick and beg for forgiveness on the car ride over. Could you please, please make me a coffee before I go get chewed out by Hotch?"
"Sure," Owen said, rolling out of bed and stretching next to Spencer as he got out of the bed, getting up and walking around the room, grabbing the first top he saw. "Hot or Iced?"
"I don't care as long as it's caffeinated." Spencer called as he walked into the bathroom.
Owen made his way into the kitchen in just his boxers and one of Spencer's button-downs, listening to him turn on the sink and the shower attempting to speed up his morning routine. I turned on the kettle and got out the coffee and the French Press, before making his way to the fridge and pulling out a loaf of bread and a carton of eggs for his own breakfast. His morning routine was constant with or without Spencer, so he went through the motions with ease even in his hungover state. Owen started washing the dishes in the sink- a lot of glasses and a cocktail shaker.
He was pouring the hot water into the French Press when there were three quick knocks on the front door.
Startled, Owen opened the door to see a tall man in a suit.
"I'm sorry, I think I have the wrong place. I'm looking for Dr. Spencer Reid?"
"Who's asking?" Owen crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorway.
"I'm S.S.A. Aaron Hotchner, his boss. And you are?"
"Owen Polk, his … boyfriend." Owen stuck his hand out to shake and he took it. Firm grip, big hands, wedding ring on his left hand. "He's in the shower right now, if you want to come in."
"Sure." Aaron stepped into the living room, awkward and unsure of how to proceed. "I didn't know Reid…"
"That Spencer what?" Owen prepared himself for the inevitable, the homophobic remark, the comment made without a thought about how nobody could've guessed that Spencer Reid, Ph D. was dating a man with painted nails and a handful of very noticeable hickies.
"Dated, honestly. The team kind of assumed he was a hopeless cause." Aaron cracked a smile and his face warmed up. "It's nice to see that he has a life outside of work."
"Not really much time for that, with how much you guys travel." Owen walked back into the kitchen, leaving Aaron in the living room. "Do you want coffee?"
"I'd love some, thanks." He looked around Spence's apartment as Owen poured him a cup.
"How long have you and Spencer been together?"
"Two years I think? Somewhere around there." Owen tripped on his words as he handed him the mug. The two of them sat down at Spencer's dining room table, Aaron removing his overcoat and hung it up on the back of his chair. "We were both students at MIT when we met, and when he got the job in the BAU he both moved here."
"You don't live here?"
"I live in Boston- I'm in the middle of my Ph.D. right now. I'm just in town right now because I'm meeting with somebody at George Washington."
Aaron's face broke into a smile. "That's where I got my law degree! What are you studying?"
"Astrophysics!" Owen smiled at Aaron- he was cuter than he would have imagined and surprisingly easy to talk to. "Do you want milk or sugar or anything?"
"No, black is fine."
Owen lit a cigarette as he drank his coffee, examining the man sitting across from him. Something was setting Owen on edge, keeping him from letting his guard down. Owen heard the shower squeak off in the bathroom and excused himself to go warn Spencer of what was waiting in the kitchen. Knocking twice on the bathroom door before entering, Owen walked into the small steam-filled room and shut the door behind me.
"Owen, I don't have time for this- Hotch is going to kill me when I get to work." Spencer said, pulling on his underwear and attempting to towel dry his hair at the same time.
"He's here."
"He's here?"
"Sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee." Owen took a drag of his cigarette and ashed it into the sink as Spencer buttoned his shirt.
"Mother fucking- shit, I don't know… Did you talk to him?"
"Yeah?"
"Fuck!" Spencer exclaimed, still trying to rush through getting dressed. He had buttoned his shirt crooked and Owen reached out to fix it for him as Spencer zipped his fly. "Did he seem mad? And are you smoking in front of him?"
"Yeah?"
"Goddammit!" He exclaimed as Owen smoothed his collar as he pulled on his cardigan. "Where's my tie?"
"I don't think you grabbed one." Owen took a step back from Spencer as he fixed his hair in the mirror. "Are you okay? Are you going to get in trouble for this?"
"No, it's not that. It's just I didn't anticipate coming out to the team like this, to Hotch of all people first, hungover, an hour and a half late for work, with you in your underwear smoking a cigarette." Spencer reached for the door handle and paused before he turned it. "Are there any drugs out?"
"I don't know, does he care?"
"Owen I'm really not trying to get fired today."
"You won't." Owen opened the door for him and kissed his cheek as the two of them walked out.
Aaron was still sitting at our dining room table, drinking his black coffee, a slight smile on his face. He had probably heard the hushed argument from out there. Aaron stood up when Spencer walked out into the living room, picking up his coat from the chair.
"Reid."
"I know sir, I'm so sorry. This won't happen again."
"Reid."
"We just got in so late last night and I forgot to set an alarm and I was going to call from the car."
"Reid!"
"Yes sir?"
"Why didn't you tell me that you were in a serious relationship? Are you not comfortable enough with the team to share something like this? In any team, but specifically ours, honesty is crucial if we're going to operate as well as we can."
"I'm sorry sir."
It was a little funny to see Spencer defer to somebody, in the entire time we had been dating Owen had never seen him so apologetic. He was cute when he was submissive, and it was nice to see somebody else boss him around.
"You need to answer his question, Reid. If you aren't comfortable sharing something so important with the team we need to have a larger conversation."
Spencer stopped tying his shoes and stood up, standing between Aaron and Owen. Owen stubbed out his cigarette and lit a second one as Spencer started speaking, voice quiet but firm,
"With all due respect, sir, you don't expect anybody else to share their personal lives. You don't ask Morgan about the last girl he had a one-night stand with, or J.J. how her dates are going. Why am I being held to a different standard? Is it because I'm new, or is it because I'm gay?"
Aaron was silent as he looked at Spencer. Before he responded, he took the time to smooth out his shirt and straighten his tie.
"It's the rest of the team has been nothing but honest and open with you. I can understand being hesitant to come out, I can understand being private, but after so long with the BAU, I would hope that you would feel like you can have these conversations with the team. If you're unable to address something as important as this, then how can I expect you to be honest in your work?"
"I'm sorry sir."
"Don't apologize." Aaron handed Owen his coffee mug and picked his jacket up off of the back of his chair. "Thank you for the coffee, Owen. It was lovely meeting you. Reid, I'll be waiting outside."
Aaron walked out of the small apartment and closed the door behind him. Owen took a drag from his cigarette as Spencer sat down at the table, resting his head in his hands.
"He's wrong, you know." Owen said, standing up and moving to pour Spencer a cup of coffee, to go. "You don't have to come out to anybody. Especially your boss and especially if you don't want to. That's why it's called Don't Ask Don't Tell, Spencer."
"I know." Spencer grabbed Owen's pack of cigarettes from the table and lit one of his own, taking a deep inhale and blowing smoke across the room. "I just... it's hard"
"I know." Owen handed Spencer his coffee mug and kissed the top of his head before he stood up.
"Can I make it up to you?"
"Just don't get killed out there, okay?"
Spencer laughed as he stood up and kissed Owen with a mouth full of cigarette smoke and black coffee. "I'll do my best."
He grabbed his bag and his coat as he opened the front door, Aaron waiting in the hallway for him.
"Ready to go?"
"Yes sir."
The door closed with a slam and Owen was left alone in Spencer's apartment, once again.
Some things never did change.
It was a painfully boring day. Owen had a productive day, sure, meeting with some Professor Emeritus who creeped him out for most of the afternoon, and swinging by the grocery store after he left the George Washington to get something for dinner. Spencer was never too fond of cooking, and that with the fact that he was only in his apartment half the time meant that his cabinet had been bare bones when Owen peaked in making breakfast. He ended up splurging on a nicer than usual bottle of rosé for dinner since he would be home with Spencer.
Spencer called Owen right as he was walking to his car to let him know he was heading home, and that Hotch was giving him a ride.
"Ask him if he wants to stay for dinner."
"Owen I'm sure he has-"
"Spencer. Ask him."
Spencer sighed and Owen knew he was rolling his eyes on his side of the phone. "No."
He hung up the phone before Owen even had a chance to protest.
Twenty minutes after Spencer hung up the phone he burst through the door with a bottle of champagne and six wilting roses. He had clearly gone to the corner store a block away from his apartment. Owen was laying on the couch, flipping through an old sci-fi novel that he had found on one of the bookshelves.
"Hi, babe!" Spencer said a little too loud, dropping his messenger bag before going to join Owen on the couch. "Do you know what Hotch told me?"
Owen set down his book and rolled his eyes at Spencer, putting his feet in his lap and grabbing the roses from him.
"What?"
"That he was surprised I had been dating you for so long, seeing as I've had a few extraordinarily awful blind dates that he remembered."
"Well, you could've done that when we were dating," Owen pointed out. "I figured it was better to tell him you were in a relationship than that you were having casual, emotionally messy, gay sex."
"I know." Spencer said, handing Owen the bottle of champagne as well, "This is me saying thank you"
Owen sniffed the roses- even if they were dying he still appreciated the gesture. "You know I already bought a bottle of wine for tonight."
"We can have two." Spencer offered, running his hand up Owen's calf. "One for me, and one for you."
The two of them laughed and Owen made quick work of peeling the foil off of the top of the champagne bottle, freeing the cage. He pointed the bottle towards the front door and popped the cork, sending it flying across the room. He was even quicker to start drinking the wine spilling out of the top of the bottle, taking a long drink before passing the bottle to Spencer.
The two of them took turns drinking the champagne until the bottle was empty. He pulled the two of them up off the floor, leading the way to the kitchen.
"What kind of wine did you get?"
"A rosé," Owen said, throwing the bottle into the trash as the two of them walked by. "Why?"
"Dinner?" Spencer spun Owen around on his heel and pulled him in close, pressing his chest against Owens back. "I'm hungry."
"What are you cooking?"
"Cooking? Me?" Spencer laughed before he pulled the champagne bottle from Owen's hand, finishing it off and setting it down on the counter. "I was thinking of ordering a pizza, honestly."
"I went grocery shopping earlier."
"Oh?" Spencer asked, opening the refrigerator door and pulling out the bottle of rosé I had bought. "There is more food here than usual."
"Yeah."
Owen opened cabinets and drawers looking for the corkscrew, and when he found it Spencer grabbed it out of his hand. Spencer had his cell phone stuck between his ear and his shoulder, and made easy work of uncorking the bottle of rosé.
"Hi, hello can I place an order for delivery?"
Spencer had big hands, beautiful to watch work.
"The name is Spencer, Spencer Reid. Yes, same address as before."
He tore the foil off of the top of the bottle and dug the corkscrew into the soft cork of the bottle.
"Can I get two medium pizzas and a chicken Caesar salad? A Hawaiian and then a marguerite, please."
He yanked on the corkscrew hard and the bottle opened with a pop, and Owen was waiting with two wine glasses.
"I'll pay with cash. Yeah, thanks."
Spencer hung up the phone and poured two large glasses of rosé, and as he handed one to Owen he laughed.
"Pizza will be here in an hour." The two of them clinked their glasses together and Spencer leaned against the kitchen counter. "What do we do until then?"
"Hmm…" Owen laughed as he thought, "I can think of a few things I want you to do."
"Oh?" Spencer sipped his wine and reached out for Owen's free hand, pulling his boyfriend closer to him. "Tell me."
"Well, for starters you can pick up your dirty clothes." Owen pressed a kiss onto Spencer's cheek, reaching up on his toes. "And then if there's time left I got some film developed that I think you should see."
"Film? From when?"
"Just from moving, I think." Owen rested his head on Spencer's shoulder. "But I guess we'll find out when you clean up."
Spencer groaned and kissed the top of Owen's head as he straightened out, downing the rest of his glass of wine and kicking his shoes off as he walked through the living room. Owen finished his wine and poured himself another in the kitchen, hitting play on the stereo. and Spencer's classical music filled the apartment as Owen plopped down on the couch. He had a perfect view of Spencer dancing and cleaning in his bedroom- a brief reminder of their domestic bliss.
Watching Spencer clean was some form of entertainment for Owen- Spencer was so messy most of the time, leaving books half-read on every surface, throwing his clothes on the floor, dropping pens and lighters everywhere. He loved to clean, though- put everything back where it belonged, at least until it got messy again. While Spencer cleaned, Owen sorted the prints he had ordered. Spencer finished cleaning up his apartment right as Owen finished going through the stack, sorting out the stack of 4x6's and grinning. Owen's photography phase worked out well with Spencer's chemistry fascination- the two of them usually developed their film in the bathroom with headlamps on- an exercise best done a little tipsy and very high. These prints were from disposable cameras, though, and Owen had only remembered to drop them off at the Rite Aid on the corner three weeks ago.
"These are from moving?"
"Yeah, I think so." Owen turned around to face Spencer, shoving the prints in his hands a little too rough. "But I just finished the cameras a month ago- that's when I sent them in."
Spencer smiled, thumbing through the first few before setting the prints down on the table. "Did you get the slides?"
"What?"
"Or the positives, at least?" Spencer mumbled his words through a kiss on Owen's forehead. "I found the projector when I was cleaning up- the sheet too."
"Oh really?"
"It'll be just like in grad school."
Spencer and Owen went through the familiar motions, falling back into old routines. Owen stood on the back of the couch and hung a sheet to the wall with pushpins shaped like spaceships. Spencer found the slides in the envelope and warmed up the projector.
"What are we going to listen to?"
Spencer looked up from the projector at Owen, surprised by the question. "You normally pick the music."
"Well yeah, but I'm tired of it!" Owen laughed from on top of the couch and he waved his hand towards the bookcase full of CDs to his left. "Pick something!"
Spencer's social anxiety usually kicked into full effect at times like this, even after knowing Owen for so long he was still so worried about picking the wrong music. But there he was, half a bottle of wine in on an empty stomach and feeling bold. He picked an album by the cover like he usually did- The Velvet Underground & Nico self-titled. Spencer remembered buying it for Owen in a used CD store in some yuppie suburb, sticker still on the cover. He remembered Owen immediately peeling the sticker off and sticking it in his journal, forcing Spencer to listen to it every time they got in the car for the next six weeks. He also remembered Owen gifting Spencer half of his CD collection when Spencer moved, something he didn't ask for when they broke up.
Spencer loaded the CD into the stereo and topped off the two wine glasses on the counter right as the doorbell rang.
Spencer and Owen both called out "Just a minute!" and locked eyes with each other across the room, bursting out in laughter. The two of them raced to untangle themselves from what they were doing- Spencer beat Owen to the door and opened it up.
"Hi, yeah here's the money." Spencer handed the driver a fifty-dollar bill and grabbed the takeout from the man gently. "Keep the change."
Owen shut the door as Spencer sat everything down on the coffee table. They rushed to finish everything they had to do- mixing drinks and hanging up sheets, lining up the projector, and making sure the image was in focus. Spencer hit play and walked over to Owen, both glasses in his hand, one with the remainder of the rosé and the other with some pinkish reddish mixed drink in the other.
"Pick your poison, babe. Tonight, it's just like the old days." Spencer coaxed, pushing the mixed drink into his partner's hand as he fell onto the couch.
"The slides are loaded, all you have to do is start them."
Owen was laying on the floor with his back against an armchair, the salad in his lap as he picked at it with a fork. Spencer looked at him and he saw the 21-year-old man he had fallen in love with, and then the 23-year-old PhD Candidate he was pretty sure he was in love with now.
"Hand me the Hawaiian, please. Oh, and the red chili flakes."
Owen kissed the top of Spencer's hand when he handed him the red pepper flakes and Spencer laughed so hard he snorted.
"You're cute, you know. Even when we're not dating."
Owen rolled his eyes and hit advance on the clicker, and the wall of the living room lit up with a picture of Spencer, half-awake speeding down I-95 on the drive down.
Click
The next slide was another picture of Spencer, this time wearing gas station sunglasses, somewhere in Maryland. You could tell because he was holding a bottle of Old Bay towards the camera.
Click
A timed picture of Owen and Spencer in the doorway of the apartment. There were moving boxes stacked against the wall behind them. Spencer had kissed Owen at the last second, and Owen's hands were thrown up. It was a cute picture, cute enough to make Owen and Spencer reach out for each other.
"We're a pretty cute couple, you know," Spencer said over a mouthful of ham and pineapple.
"We are!"
The two of them clinked their glasses together and laughed.
Click
Owen and Spencer looked up- the next slide was Spencer making out with some girl in a dive bar. Well, it wasn't just some girl- she was one of the grad students who started the same time as Owen, but she was focused on Medieval Studies.
"Oh my god!" Spencer exclaimed, propping himself up on his eyebrows as he laughed at the slide. "You got that on film."
"Well, of course, I did," Owen said, sliding back to straddle Spencer on the floor. "It's not every day your straight-edge boyfriend takes MDMA at a bar and ends up having a threesome in a single stall bathroom."
That made Spencer laugh, and he laughed so hard he spilled his salad all over the floor. Spencer knelt down to clean up the mess, and he attempted to place a well-timed kiss on Owen's wine-stained lips. The two of them ended up toppling over, rolling onto the floor, Owen on top. As he tried to get comfy, he hit the clicker and-
Click.
A self-timer of Spencer leaving for his first day at the FBI Academy, hair combed and shirt tucked in. Owen was hanging off of him, in his underwear and glasses. The two of them were making out in the doorway, and he must have been more moved in then because the boxes were unpacked.
"Did I really kiss you like that on camera?" Spencer laughed, setting the pizza box down on the ground between him and his boyfriend.
"Why?"
"I don't know, don't want my political career to be ruined by some softcore porn getting leaked."
By now, Spencer was laughing so hard tears were rolling down his face. "I missed this, you know."
Owen tensed up on Spencer's lap, and Spencer's hands fell to Owen's thighs.
"I do too"
Owen and Spencer were both, by now, very drunk. They were both a bottle of wine in, and they had drunk fast. Owen was mad, too- he couldn't imagine a world where the people Spencer sat next to for 8 hours a day didn't know that he was a gangly 6'3 encyclopedia of a man that he could drink a case of beer alone in a night if he put his mind to it, or that he could rip an 18-inch bong without flinching.
"I don't know." Owen rolled off of Spencer and laid beside him on the floor, reaching his arms around Spencer's torso. "Do they know about your mom? Or your dad? Or how one time you peed yourself on a plane?"
"Why would I tell them that I peed myself on a plane!" Spencer said, in between laughs. "We fly everywhere, I'd never live it down."
"What do your coworkers know about me?"
Owen propped himself up on his elbows and the two of them burst out laughing, tears streaming down their faces.
"They know that I was absolutely head over heels in love with you," Spencer said, with that drunken half-smile taking over his face. "I think the words Hotch used were 'completely, totally smitten.'"
"Yeah?"
Owen pushed Spencer on, pretending like his heart didn't break at Spencer's use of past-tense.
"Yes. They know that you're an all-star astrophysicist at MIT who wouldn't move mid-program to live with me now. They also know that you're the smartest person I know. They know you knit me that sweater, the green and yellow one, for our 6-month anniversary- the tech was pretty impressed by that one."
"The tech?"
"What?"
"She has a name, Spencer."
"Fine, Penelope was impressed by your knitting prowess."
"Well, that's nice."
Owen reached out and kissed Spencer hard, teeth knocking together as they made out on the living room floor.
Yes, this was the good life. Growing up, free of the burden of reality, totally in control of their lives. This was their coming of age moment, the slide of Spencer making out with the grad student still on the wall above them and The Velvet Underground playing in the background. Owen had snuck a hand up under Spencer's work shirt when Spencer hiccupped into his mouth, breaking the moment they were in.
Owen rolled off of Spencer and Spencer hiccupped again, louder this time as he reached for his lover.
"No, get back here!" Spencer exclaimed, "I wanna – hic- keep kissing you"
"Oh, you do?" Owen pushed himself up off of the floor and he reached for the clicker. "We have more pictures."
"Can we do -hic- both?"
Owen rolled his eyes at Spencer down on the ground and he pressed on to the next photo.
Click
A candid of Owen doing a shot at some grimy bar in Dupont Circle- he was wearing his old clothes from undergrad, spiked leather jacket and combat boots with his hair spiked up and eyeliner smudged.
"I can't believe I used to look like that every day," Owen exclaimed, flopping down on the couch as Spencer settled in between his legs.
"I bet you were hot," Spencer said, reaching his arms around Owen's thigh and snuggling into it. "Angry at the world before you could buy beer."
Click
Spencer lying in bed, nude, reading a first edition of some French novel.
Click
Spencer heading off for his first actual day in the BAU. He was hungover, so he was wearing his glasses, and he had a dark purple hickey peeking out from under his shirt collar.
Spencer laughed from his spot between Owen's legs. "I wore a sweater all day so nobody would see that, you know?"
"You had to wear one today, too, didn't you?"
"Yes. Morgan pointed it out when we were all doing our paperwork together this afternoon."
"What can I say- there's something about you that makes me want to take a bite out of you."
"Do you want the psychoanalysis for that?"
"Not really."
Owen looked down at Spencer, the taller man curled up in between Owen's thighs, using them as pillows. Something pulled at his heart, made Owen realize that maybe he did love Spencer enough to keep doing the whole "flying out once a month" thing, even if he wasn't really a relationship person.
Spencer had always been his exception.