Derek checked his heart rate as he jogged in place in his driveway. Clooney tugged at the leash, anxious to get inside. He was a very well behaved dog. As a tan, bradshire terrier, he was frequently mistaken for his breed’s cousin, the pitbull. While there was actually nothing inherently dangerous about either breed, Derek knew better than to trust strangers’ perceptions. He and Clooney had spent their first couple of months together going to behavior training courses. Despite passing with flying colors, Clooney’s ability to listen to Derek waned when he’d been forced to go on a long run and was within sight of their front door and therefore just feet from his water-bowl.
“Patience, buddy,” Derek muttered, watching the heart-rate monitor function on his watch count down. When the digital readout dipped below 70, he let his arm thunk to his side and walked the last few steps to the door, taking deep breaths. He unlocked the door but didn’t open it until he’d unclipped Clooney’s leash, knowing the dog would bolt inside as soon as he could. Derek couldn’t blame him; he was rather anxious himself.
While the dog ran for the kitchen, Derek turned down the hall and headed for his bedroom. The large master bedroom was located at the far end of the ranch-style house. It had windows facing South and East, and it was over an hour after the summer sunrise, so the room was filled with natural light. The morning rays fell across the king-sized bed in the middle of the room, where a mop of caramel colored curls could just be seen peeking out from under the comforter. When Derek got up for his run, Spencer had immediately seized the opportunity to spread out on the bed all spread-eagle, his long, gangly limbs taking up nearly the entire mattress. He hadn’t moved since.
Derek chuckled at the sight. He toed off his shoes before kneeling on the bed at Spencer’s back and leaned over his head, tugging the comforter down to reveal his peaceful face.
“Mornin’, Pretty Boy,” Derek purred into his boyfriend’s ear before dropping a light kiss onto his exposed neck.
Spencer inhaled sharply and stretched in all directions at once. “Mmm?” He blinked his eyes a few times, and slowly rolled onto his side so he could look up at Derek. Then he smiled, and the light in the room doubled. “Mmmornin’,” he mumbled, letting his eyes flutter closed again. “You’re back already? What did you do? Take a couple laps around the block?”
Derek scoffed but laid a gentle hand on Spencer’s side, tugging at him to encourage him to roll over. “Try a couple laps around the neighborhood,” he teased. “I just ran 4 miles while you slept in.”
Spencer was fully on his back now, his eyes open and already mischievous. “Only four? You must be getting tired in your old age.”
“Oh, is that what you think?” Derek started pulling the comforter off the bed while suppressing a smile. Three weeks ago had been his 37th birthday and Spencer had been joking about his age ever since. “Well, why don’t you come out from under all those covers and I’ll show you how much energy I got.”
“Noo!” Spencer laughed, trying to roll away from him. “You’re all sweaty!”
“And soon you will be, too. That’s how this works.” Derek loomed over the younger man, close enough to be imposing, but not actually pressing against him. He dropped his tone to sultry and croned, “You like it when I get you all sweaty. I know you do.” He brushed the lightest kiss against Spencer’s cheek.
“Not like this!” Spencer chuckled out, inching further away without any real haste. “Do you realize what kinds of toxins are on your skin right now? Fifteen minutes into a workout the body begins to release toxins that haven’t been processed by the liver or kidneys into the sweat glands. You just took a 40 minute run! That’s 25 minutes of toxins, bacteria, and lipids being expelled through your glands and onto your skin.” He smiled the whole way through his little tirade, but it was clear that he was serious.
Derek put on a thoughtful expression, nodded once, and hopped off the bed. “Guess I’m just gonna have to take a shower first,” he said simply, walking around the bed towards the master bathroom, lifting his shirt up and off. “Although,” he added, turning around, as if a thought had suddenly occurred to him and this hadn’t been his plan all along. He finished removing his shirt and chucked it in the laundry hamper next to the bathroom door and stood looking down at his gawking boyfriend with more than a little suggestion in his eyes. “You could always join me.”
He turned around and slowly put his thumbs inside the waistband of his running shorts. “Steaming hot shower?” he added over his shoulder before sliding his shorts and underwear down with one swift swoop. “Should get things clean enough for you.” He tossed the remainder of his clothes in the hamper like he was shooting a basketball, then walked casually into the bathroom bare-ass naked without bothering to turn around.
Just as he turned the corner in the bathroom and knew he was out of sight, he heard the distinct flump of the comforter dropping to the floor and a light padding of feet. Derek grinned in triumph as he turned on the shower head and adjusted the temperature to just under scalding. He saw out of the corner of his eye when Spencer reached the counter across from the glassed-in shower. Derek turned to catch his lover devouring his nakedness with eager eyes, his inside of his lower lip trapped between his teeth.
“You coming?” Derek’s voice was more gruff than he’d expected. The unabashed desire on his lover’s face had struck at something deep in his core and he could feel his heart-rate picking up speed faster than it had on his morning run.
Spencer grinned at Derek, finally meeting his eyes. He immediately turned to the sink and picked up his tooth-brush (it was blue with a Tardis on the handle, never to be confused with Derek’s plane red one).
Derek stepped under the hot spray, letting it wash the worst of the sweat (and toxins, bacteria, and lipids apparently) down the drain while Spencer got rid of his morning-breath. Derek was loading a hand with body wash when the glass door opened, letting out what little steam had built up thus far, but letting in the delicious Dr. Spencer Reid, wearing nothing but a smile. Derek reached out the hand that wasn’t loaded with soap and pulled Spencer under the hot spray while stepping out of it himself. Spencer “hmmm”ed his appreciation of the water temp and dipped his unruly curls into the jetstream while Derek began lathering up his own body.
In just three months, this had become routine. They only had one or two days between cases when they could share a morning (and the preceding night of course) together. The first time Spencer had stayed over on their first morning off, just days after they finally got together, events had unfolded much the same way: Derek let Spencer sleep in while he and Clooney took a run (he only did 2 miles that day, though, as he was too eager to get home to concentrate on the run), and then they showered together before returning to bed and continuing to work out their frustration for waiting so damn long to get together.
The memory flitted through Derek’s mind as he soaped his chest and arms and his smile deepened. Spencer chose that moment to slip his nimble fingers over Derek’s shoulders and pull him back under the water. Derek angled his head so the water cascaded down his back as he folded his arms around Spencers back and pulled him in for a proper “good-morning” kind of kiss. Spencer met him more than half-way, locking his arms behind Derek’s neck and molding his lithe frame to the contours of Derek’s muscles.
How easily they fit together still surprised Derek. Being able to stand completely flush to each other from head to toe just felt so comfortable, he wondered why he never noticed it with the men he’d been with in the past. Maybe it was just one of those things that was uniquely Spencer.
Derek trailed the last of the soap on his hands up and down Spencer’s back, massaging it into his skin. Spencer “hmm”ed again, the sensation reverberating through their joined lips and their chests pressed together, and Derek responded in kind. He deepened their kiss, slipping his tongue between Spencer’s gasping lips and tasting the remnants of minty toothpaste and a flavor that was all Spencer - coffee, chocolate, book-dust, and those damn pencils he always chewed on.
Derek’s hands were just beginning to venture a bit further south down Spencer’s backside when their little box of steam was disrupted by the twin peeling of cell-phone ringers coming from the bedroom. Two identical ringers were going off just milliseconds apart, making the sound echo around the glass and tile room more than it should have. It had to be their work phones, which meant they were being called in on a case.
Reluctantly, the two men released each others lips. Spencer rested his forehead against Derek’s and loosened his hold around the older man’s shoulders. “Should have known,” he sighed. “They haven’t called us in on a weekend in nearly 3 months. The average is once every 5 weeks. We were past due.” He knew he was rambling again, but he didn’t care. Spencer would do anything to hang on to this perfect moment just a little while longer. He had Derek in his arms. He had spent the night in Derek’s bed. He had Derek! All the statistics he’s memorized, all the probabilities he’s calculated over the years, and he could never have seen this coming.
Derek pulled his head back so he could look Spencer in the eyes. He gently cupped Spencer’s cheek, encouraging him to look back. They held each others’ gaze for a moment as the ringing of the phones stopped - the calls routed to voicemail. “Hey, Pretty Boy,” Derek purred. “I love you.”
Spencer had to swallow around a build-up of unfamiliar emotions rising in his throat before he could respond, “I love you, too, Der.”
Just as the phones began to ring for a second attempt, Derek leaned in and pressed a light, but lingering, kiss to Spencers lips. He sighed as he finally released his young lover, then quickly made sure the last of the soap had been washed from his body before stepping out of the shower and dashing into the bedroom, barely pausing to snatch up a towel as he left the room.
Spencer shook himself the rest of the way awake, already missing the warmth that was so distinctly Derek, and grabbed the shampoo bottle he’d brought from his own apartment for his second overnight stay here.
“Morgan.” Derek must have just caught his phone on the final ring as the echo of Spencer’s phone stopped. “I understand.” Spencer washed his curls quietly, trying to listen in on the call that would determine the rest of their Saturday. “Um, yeah? I think I know where Dr. Reid is.” Derek’s voice got louder near the end of the sentence, and Spencer guessed he’d turned towards the open bathroom door. “Sure, I’ll swing by and pick him up on my way in.” Spencer couldn’t help but roll his eyes and smile. He squeezed a dab of the conditioner Derek had bought him onto his palm and quickly worked it into his hair, all the while smiling.
They hadn’t been able to keep their relationship a secret from their team - it would be difficult in any office of only 7 people, but an office of profilers could never be fooled. Besides, Derek told Penelope everything, Spencer had always gone to JJ and Emily for advice, and Rossi had figured it out before either of them, so there wasn’t any point in keeping it a secret from Hotch. But the senior team-member had suggested they hold off on submitting an official “Consensual Relationship Agreement” to the bureau until they were sure where it was going - he didn’t want to give Director Strauss another reason to split up his team (it had only been a month ago that they'd lost JJ to the Department of Defense). So the techs and support staff, like the ones who make phone-calls to off-duty agents on Saturday mornings, weren’t aware that the two SSAs practically lived together.
Derek popped his head into the bathroom just as Spencer started to turn off the water.
“We’re meeting the team at the airport,” Derek said. “They need us on the ground, asap?”
“Where?” Spencer asked, his calculated work voice creeping back in. He stepped out of the shower and accepted the towel Derek handed him.
“Chicago.” Derek turned and walked back into the bedroom, the towel he had hastily wrapped around his waist threatening to fly off from the quick motion.
Spencer followed after, rubbing his towel through his hair. “Huh,” he said as he wracked his endless memory banks for recent murders in the Chicago area he would have heard about on the news, but nothing came to mind. “You gonna call your mom?”
Derek was halfway into his pants. “And say what?” he chided. “That there might be a serial killer loose in her backyard.” He finished buttoning his pants and waived off the suggestion. “You know protocol. Unless I have reason to think she might be in danger, she’s better off not knowing. Besides, she’s got enough to worry about with those two sisters of mine giving her trouble.”
Spencer could hear the affection in Derek’s voice, though he had kept his face stern. He couldn’t help but feel warmed through to the core, knowing how caring Derek was with his family. It wasn’t a feeling Spencer was used to, and it gave him a little thrill every time he caught a glimpse of it in his partner.
“You could call her just to say ‘hi,’” Spencer pressed. “Meet her for coffee or something.” He plopped onto the end of the bed to put on his socks and shoes. He never bothered to match up his socks and had simply grabbed two at random from the drawer that was just his in the middle of Derek’s dresser, but they both happened to have blue patterns this time. “I usually try to see my Mom when we have a case near Vegas,” he added.
“I know you do, Baby,” Derek said warmly. “That’s because you’re a good son.”
Spencer picked up his discarded towel and chucked it at Derek, where it transferred some of the dampness onto Derek’s light-gray shirt. “And what are you, then?” Spencer laughed. “A bad son?”
Derek dropped the towel in the laundry basket on top of his own and turned his best mischievous smile towards his boyfriend. “Oh, you know I’m bad,” he purred, sauntering across the few feet that separated them. He pulled Spencer to his feet and slid his arms around his thin waist. “And you like it,” he added before pressing his lips to Spencer’s.
The kiss was too brief for Spencer’s taste, so when Derek pulled back, Spencer clamped both hands behind Derek’s neck and pulled him back in. There was no way of knowing how long this case would last - how long they would have to just be Agent Morgan and Dr. Reid instead of Derek and Spencer. So Spencer kept his arms around Derek’s neck for as long as he dared. Derek obliged without hesitation, clinging to Spencer’s back.
But work was waiting. They knew it. They both lived for their job. That was one of the reasons their relationship worked - they could never resent how much the other spent on a case because they were both there. So they let their arms relax and slowly brought their lips apart, deeply breathing in each-other’s scents.
“We gotta go, Baby,” Derek mumbled, his voice gruff and a little sad. Spencer only nodded and the two finally broke apart. Their go-bags were already packed and ready to go - laying side-by-side on the floor of Derek’s closet. Spencer let Clooney out into the fenced-in backyard while Derek sent a text to his dog-sitter that he was heading out of town. Then they climbed into Derek’s truck and headed for the airstrip, making a brief detour through their favorite coffee drive-thru for breakfast. By the time they met up with the rest of the team, they were all business once more.