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“At this rate, you’re going to make us late to dinner,” Spencer scolds, arm linked with Hotch’s in a way they don’t usually get to enjoy. Shoulder to shoulder, his arm woven through the older man’s, holding his forearm and feeling the solidarity there. Firm and comforting, confident – Spencer adores it. Isn’t sure he’ll ever get used to it. “Our reservation is at 6:30.”
“And Antonia will hold our table, no matter how long we want to take,” Hotch points out, a small smirk of a smile turning at his lips handsomely. They had spent the whole afternoon at the Smithsonian’s newest exhibit, Spencer reading every place card and notating his own past studies in between. Hotch getting the tour of a lifetime, as he always does. They are season pass holders to all the museum buildings, and usually they make a day of it with Jack, but today Hotch had brought them there mere hours before their dinner date. With access to the new permanent “Time and Navigation” exhibit at the Air and Space Museum, which he knew Spencer would be dying to see. They take the long way back to the parking lot; exit through the back of the Smithsonian Castle where the Enid A. Haupt gardens are, which is always Hotch’s favorite place.
Specifically the Moongate Gardens: a Japanese-style courtyard named after the circular stone archway, mirrored in shape by a fountain inlaid into the same pale stone, and surrounded by blossoming Sakura trees. It’s a chilly evening for that time of year, and they enter just before sunset – another favorite event of Hotch’s. He’d brought Spencer there on one of their very first dates. At sunset, just like this, when the light colored stone soaks up the last golden rays of the sun, painting the whole courtyard as vibrant as the sky. It was one of the most beautiful sights Spencer had ever seen, told Hotch so that first time – one year and three months ago. Hotch hadn’t answered with more than a soft, affirmative hum of agreement, but when Spencer had looked to him he saw that Hotch hadn’t been watching the sky or the scenic gardens around them at all. He’d been looking at Spencer.
They’d kissed until the sun dipped beyond the horizon. Ever since, the Moongate Garden has been a special place for them. Something they saved for the most special occasions, when it was appropriate to have emotion swallow them whole and they could savor the moment as long as needed.
Today was no such occasion; Spencer was sure of that.
And yet, Hotch was being unusually quiet. Not in the sense that he wasn’t talking, because their silences were always warm and companionable, but quiet in his mannerisms. Not revealing much of his thoughts or sentiments, keeping himself reserved – and he only does that when he’s attempting to hide something. To keep it a surprise. Spencer was becoming just as good a profiler as Hotch is, as Gideon was, he can catch on to even the smallest hint of secret from the smallest micro-expression; but Hotch is also very skilled in keeping his emotions in check. An unspoken battle of wits that Spencer hadn’t even known he was a part of until they ventured into the garden. Mildly surprised at the turn, and somehow feeling he must have missed something –
But today isn’t anything special. It’s not an anniversary of any sort: it’s not their first date, their first kiss, nor the first time they said ‘I love you’. Spencer had been living with Jack and Hotch for less than six months, so that wasn’t it either. He remembers every date, every moment, with precision and accuracy and cherishes them beyond measure. He remembers all of it – every date there is to remember.
Except for one.
There is one date Spencer doesn’t know, because it had only occurred for Aaron. But it changed his life, everything big and small, and he wants to make it just as important for the man on his arm. Holding his heart, without really knowing just how much.
“You’re really not going to tell me,” Spencer murmurs with a half smile, glancing at Hotch as they pass a couple leaving the garden, now having the space entirely to themselves.
“Tell you what?”
“What today is,” Spencer prods. “I don’t forget dates, so I’m sure you’re having fun holding this close to the chest.”
“A little bit,” Hotch admits, bringing them to the far side of the fountain, where a circular inlaid bench is set into the stonework.
“Alright,” Spencer laughs a bit, letting go of Aaron’s arm to take up his usual spot on the bench. “So out with it, enlighten me,” he teases further. A spark in his eye Hotch can never tire of, that never fails to steal his breath.
“You didn’t forget anything,” Hotch says with a small chuckle, as Spencer sits down. Hands on the edge of the bench in an endearing posture. Hotch sidles up to him, all warm dark eyes and secretive smiles. “We’ve been together 18 months.”
“And six days,” Spencer smiles fondly, curiosity in his gaze.
“But we’ve known each other much longer.”
Spencer pauses at that. His mind flipping through his mental rolodex calmly, that fond smile ebbing to something full of much more, love and time past and everything in between.
“Eleven years, five months, thirteen days,” he murmurs, and Hotch’s smile is so wide and adoring it captures all of his attention. Warmer than the last rays of the sun.
“That long?”
“The first day I saw you was in August, when Gideon got me into the FBI Academy and I was still technically a candidate,” Spencer says, a flush highlighting his cheeks and matching the hues of the sky. That had been a long time ago. He’d barely completed his third doctorate, had just decided to switch from sciences to humanities and pursue a career with the FBI. Aaron Hotchner had been the first person he met that embodied what an FBI Agent was supposed to be, in his eyes.
“There’s a lot of milestones I don’t remember with such accuracy,” Hotch says low and quiet in contemplation. Leaning against the stonework next to him, inside the circular design and close enough Spencer could knock his converses against his wingtips if he so desired. “I don’t remember what day I learned that you were joining our team, that you could do what you do, and how much it impressed me. But I remember the moment.” It had been the first time Spencer had taken his breath away, and made him smile, but he used to smile much more easily back then.
“I also don’t remember the day I first looked at you and saw you differently. It feels like it should have been an epiphany, but it was a creeping thing that grew over… all those years,” he says, a little stunned it had really been that long. The astonishment echoing in his voice.
Spencer smiles and Hotch can’t help but reach out and take his hand, still standing beside where he sits on the stone blocks, the world around them turning rosy reds and oranges like it always does at sunset. But neither are looking at the sky.
“I don’t remember which day I decided I was going to ask you to dinner, because it took a very long time to gather the courage to do so.”
“I remember,” Spencer says with a breathless laugh, eyes bright. “You tried and backed out twice before you finally asked me. I was ready to say yes from the moment I realized what you wanted.”
Because of course he was. When words fail them, Hotch and Spencer always understand each other – and it’s not often that words fail them. Hotch squeezes Spencer’s hands in his own, and doesn’t let them go. Once again working up the courage to speak what’s been on his mind and in his heart for the longest time.
“But there is one day that I do remember, with very precise accuracy.”
“This day,” Spencer elaborates, soft and still looking at him. A slight squint to his eyes as he tries to wrack his brain. “This day… last year?”
“Yes,” Hotch admits.
“We were… working, it was a Wednesday, we went on a trip together to the penitentiary upstate for an interview, and didn’t get back until late,” Spencer says, pulling the memories from thin air. “You – you were worried we wouldn’t be able to work alone together, while being together, and we did very well that day. Got our interview, no incidents.” He gives him a slight look, the reminders of Chester Hardwick hanging over their heads and Hotch ducks his head a bit in admonishment. That had also been a very long time ago. “We did it, we were able to work together, and we went to our separate homes that night.”
“We did,” Hotch says, rubbing his thumb along the ridge of Spencer’s knuckles lovingly. “Do you remember when we left the BAU that night, in the hallway outside my office door?”
Spencer’s smile goes a little dazed, as his perfect memory recall brings up every frame of that moment.
“How could I ever forget?”
Outside Hotch’s office that night, he’d closed the door and was locking it as they were leaving, when he called to Spencer by his first name. They were one of the only remaining people on the floor, barely a soul around to hear him.
Spencer turned back to him, all unruly curls and his oversized sweater hanging off his shoulders. Soft and exhausted and ready for home. Aaron had felt an overwhelming urge to ask him to come back to his place. They spent all day together, but not ‘together’ like they’ve become so used to, and Aaron realized then that he doesn’t want to go home without Spencer. Ever. That what they have at work and what they have outside of it is a separate dynamic, and that they could handle this.
Could handle more.
Aaron thanked him, for everything that day, and Spencer only blinked once in mild confusion before he realized what Aaron meant. ‘Thanks for proving me wrong. Thank you for not tempting our predilections or our instinct to gravitate closer. Thank you for being you, unequivocally and earnestly you.’
And Spencer smiled at him, soft and tired and more in love than he probably meant to look. They hadn’t said it yet, wouldn’t for a few more weeks.
“Always.”
There was no specifics mentioned. Nothing narrowed down, just a feeling. A feeling Aaron doesn’t want to live without another moment longer.
“Good night, Aaron,” he murmured, barely contained longing there in those three words, and Aaron watched Spencer walk away with his heart thumping heavily in his chest.
“It was the first time I realized that I wanted to hear you say that every night. Beside me, in my bed – our bed.” Spencer smiles even softer at Aaron’s words, because moving in with the Hotchners had been the best decision he’s ever made.
“It was the first time I saw… a future beyond next month, or next year. The first time I looked at you, walking away, and thought to myself –”
He sighs deeply then, head tilted and just looking at Spencer, and finally says the words he’s thought to himself over and over, moment after breath-taking moment, for the past year.
“I’m going to marry him, one day.”
Spencer’s breath catches, and he can’t seem to let it go again.
With Aaron’s hands still holding onto Spencer’s, he kneels down from where he stood, and grasps those slender palms tight, and asks –
“Dr. Spencer Reid, will you marry me?”
Spencer is floored. Feels the words wash over him like a tidal wave it’s so all encompassing, he had – not expected the question in the slightest. Hadn’t been sure Aaron would want to marry again, had only hoped and kept contingency plans, but Spencer had been content to love him and live with him and build a family even without a marriage certificate.
But the question surges through him, drudges up every longing look and fleeting thought and romantic notion.
There is nothing in the world he wants more than to marry Aaron Hotchner.
“Yes,” he gasps out. “Yes, God yes!” And then Spencer’s all but tumbling off the stone bench and right into Aarons arms. Sending them both crashing onto the cold ground beneath them. He takes Aaron’s devastatingly handsome face in his hands and kisses him with so much fervor and passion it leaves them both gasping for air.
And then – he smiles; bright, unbridled, kisses Aaron again so the man can taste it, feel it pressed against his own.
“I have a ring,” Aaron tries to tell him, between Spencer’s frantic, endearingly passionate kisses.
“So do I,” Spencer admits, and it stuns Aaron as Spencer kisses him slow and simmering. Wonderful. “At home, in my office, I didn’t know if you’d ever…”
“How could I not?” Aaron says, still stunned. “I love you,” he tells Spencer, low and spoken like Gospel. Like Scientific Fact. “I can’t imagine my life without you in it, and I intend to keep you in it. For as long as you’ll have me.”
“The rest of our lives sounds about right,” Spencer answers. His gaze follows Aaron’s hands as he reaches into his coat pocket for a small velvet box, reveals a silver banded ring, and puts it on Spencer’s finger. The young doctor watching as if in a trance.
When he looks back to Aaron, his eyes swimming in unshed tears, he kisses Aaron once more. Heavy and purposeful, so they feel every second passing slow as lost breath. As skipped heartbeats.
“I love you, too,” Spencer answers, as if it needs to be said. As if he doesn’t tell Aaron every day, every morning, every night.
And will continue to do so, every day that follows.
They stay there until the streetlights come on, wrapped up in one another, and the sun sets on the gardens surrounding them. They are very late to dinner. But Antonia does understand, and their table is indeed waiting for them when they finally arrive. And it continues to do so, every year on this day in early spring, for many, many years to come.
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