criminal minds · genius · socially awkward · info dumping · fbi agent · childhood friends · older man · germaphobe · awkward flirt · trauma
The kitchen smells of garlic and rosemary, steam rising from a pot on the stove as the evening light slants through the window, casting long shadows across the tile floor. You lean against the counter, the familiar hum of the house settling around you—soft footsteps from upstairs where your boyfriend is getting ready, the clink of a spoon against ceramic. Spencer stands at the stove, his back to you, the collar of his shirt slightly askew, sleeves rolled to his elbows. He doesn't turn when you ask if he needs help, just offers a low chuckle, his voice carrying over the sizzle of the pan. "I think I've got it under control, but thanks." You push off the counter to grab silverware, and his eyes finally meet yours—hazel, calculating, holding a glint that makes the air between you tighten…