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"Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired" - Robert Frost
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White floors, white walls, it was almost like an asylum. The lab was cold, as it always was this late at night. The soft silence sometimes broken by the noises of your work. The delicate movement of your hands, trying not to screw up the measurements to your experiment. Mixing chemicals this late at night was not for the weak.
This academy wasn’t for the weak either. Constant work, pressure, and competition. It had multiple different levels and different types of classes, so students could do whatever they pleased, as long as they pass.
Your hand is steady, cautious of the meticulous drops of the clear liquid. So you’re lucky when the fast, heavy pair of footsteps coming down the hall is a clear warning. You pull your hand away, and wait for the someone to come to the doorway.
When he arrives, he hits the doorway so hard that his thin, black glasses almost fall off of his face. But he pushes them up, then meets your gaze. “I-I did it! I got it! You- you have to come look! Come on!” He says. His voice excited, and his face even more so.
“Did what, Spencer?” You ask, your voice teasing. You knew what he accomplished. But he wasn’t having it. He runs into the room, grabbing your hand, and pulling you out of your chair before you can stop him. His calloused hand grips your forearm, and it almost makes you laugh, because you can hear his voice in your head.
‘The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering.’
He leads you down the hallway, through doors and rooms, until you both reach his workshop.
The Steampunk Flyamajig
The name was a work in progress, but he had done it. You knew he could, he was fantastic like that. Never failing to impress you or make your jaw drop. But right now, you’re standing in his doorway, and you have no words. Your mouth is open wider than you realize, and your eyes are big. You bring your hand to cover your proud smile.
“I- Spencer this is…” you begin. And he pulls you further into the room. The closer you come to it, the larger it looks. The tall, metal, syringe-shaped space ship.
“Do you like it? I finally got it to work!” It was clear he was unable to contain his pure excitement and adoration. You step closer to it, bringing your hand to the freezing metal.
“It’s…unbelievable.” You cant help but stare at the machine. It’s built for indescribable things. Unimaginable things. And you can completely believe that your best friend Spencer Reid built it.
He brought his gaze to you with soft eyes through his glasses, before he takes them off to hold them in his hand; his eyes still on you. “You think so?” He asks. His voice coy, and slightly suspicious.
“I know so. It’s amazing Spencer. I-I’m so proud of you!” Now, you can’t contain your cheek-tearing smile. You turn to face him, and his eyes are low, accompanied by an adorable tired smile. You bring him into a tight hug, wrapping your arms around his neck while his hands go to wrap around your lower back, his thumb softly rubbing back and fourth against your white lab shirt.
“Want to…see the inside?” He questions.
You pull back from the hug, too excited to notice the soft, warm hue of red on both of your cheeks. “Yes!”
Somehow, he smiles wider at your excitement, and moves to turn the handle down. Your eyes go to his hand, admiring it. His hands are strong, the back of them patterned with long veins. You can’t help but imagine those hands wrapped around your neck, it makes you shiver.
When the door opens, the inside is small. It’s big enough to fit two people, and is precisely made for its purpose. It’s dimly lit. On the front, there is a switchboard, with buttons you had no idea what for. A small screen in the middle, with cold, grey metal surrounding it.
You turn in a small circle, admiring each and every part about it. But Spencer’s eyes were on you. You each had the same look on your faces. You were both admiring each and every curve, looking up and down for every detail.
Then you turn to him, and he’s searching you for a reaction, or for something else. His eyes are low, his lashes long and visible. His hair is as beautiful as ever.
“Spencer, this is indescribable. I mean it.” You scoff, and all you can think is how amazing he is.
“Thanks…” he says awkwardly, looking away. His hand goes to the back of his neck.
You look at him, take a few steps closer, and grab the glasses out of his hands, placing them back on his face. His coat was off, and he was in a simple white button-up, and a tie. It was slightly too small, allowing the curvature of his arms to show through. You forced your eyes to meet his stare, not his arms.
“Why are you here so late?” You ask quietly.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
You scoff, shrugging. “True. I’m here because I’m trying to figure out this stupid chemical mix. Your turn.”
You notice him hesitate, and your brows furrow a bit. “I’m here because of you.”
You are taken back by this, and you tilt your head. “Me?”
“I wanted you to…be the first one to see it. You know, when I finished it.”
You stare into his eyes, your heart melting at his words. “I…I don’t know what to say.” And at this, you see his face go red.
“You mean…a lot to me. So, I wanted you to be the first one to see it. I stayed late to work on it- so, so you could be the first.” He explains.
Something that Spencer never failed to do, was make you feel like a goddess. Like you were some special being that needed to be worshiped. He made is clear how much you meant to him, all the time.
You move to place a kiss on his cheek, it’s filled with gratitude, and adoration. You move back to face him.
“Thank you.” You whisper, you don’t back away when his hands to go cup your cheek, and you don’t back away when his eyes move to your lips.
It’s quiet.
Until..
“Can I kiss you?” It’s probably the most quiet you’ve ever heard him speak. In the small ship, it’s just you and him. His words spoken just for you.
“Of course you can.” You say, just as quiet.
He doesn’t hesitate to move in, your lips colliding with desperation and pure desire. His free hand joins your other cheek. And your hands go to explore his chest. He’s a masterpiece.
Sculpted by Michelangelo himself.
You can’t stop yourself. Your hands are all over him, his chest, his arms, his shoulders, his waist. You want to memorize him like the back of your hand. Your hands go to his hair, feeling the soft strands glide between your fingers, softly pulling. The noise he makes creates a sensation in your stomach. And you want it on repeat. You pull harder, and he makes the noise again, it makes you smirk under the kiss.
His hands go to your waist, gently squeezing. His kiss is like walking on air. His lips are plush and proper, but they don’t act like it. You let out a soft moan under the kiss, and it makes his hands squeeze harder. He mimics you, and his hands are moving downwards, towards your ass, and down to your thighs. He lifts you, and you put your legs around his waist. He moves to put your back against the hard surface of the ships walls.
He pulls back from the kiss, a gentle and loving look on his face. “You’re so beautiful.”
You feel your heart swell, and you can’t stop yourself from smiling. You pull him into an another kiss, this time it’s prolonged; it’s strong -natured, but not aggressive, and it takes your breath away.
He releases your legs, allowing you to stand. His hands go to hold your own, and it’s a sort of comfort. As if he’s telling you that you’re safe, and that he wants you to be comfortable. Your focus is on his lips, trying your best to lavish them as much as they are lavishing you.
But then he pulls away with a sudden sense of confidence, and begins to lower to where he is on his knees. He is looking up at you, his eyes searching yours for an answer. As if he’s asking a question.
You nod, your eyes wide. You weren’t expecting this. He reaches for the button on your jeans, and begins to fiddle with it until it comes loose. You feel heat pooling underneath his hands, this is just what you imagined, and it makes you put a hand over your mouth. He then reaches for the zipper, slowly moving it downward, exposing your lace panties. He licks his lips, as though he was incredibly focused. You had seen him do it before while he was working on something, but not like this. His brow was creased, and his eyes were low, completely entranced by you.
His fingers go to hook your jeans by the belt loop, and he pulls them down. His eyes stay on your panties for a moment, before looking up into your eyes with an adorable look. You bring your hand to his hair, softly pushing it away from his face. He smiles, takes your action as a yes, and puts his attention back to what’s in front of him. He does the same to your panties, hooking the edge and pulling them down.
He bites his lip, as if he’s looking at the most delicious meal he’s ever seen. He then grabs your legs one at a time, and puts them over his shoulder, allowing you to sit. Your back is against the metal of the ship, but you’re too busy to complain.
He places kiss after kiss on your inner thigh, each one making your breathing heavier and heavier, each one making you want him more and more. He knew what he was doing, because he then began to kiss lower and lower, closer and closer to your sweet spot.
You groan accidentally, and he glances up at you with a growing smirk. Then he finally gives in, and begins to embrace your cunt with his lips. Softly moving his tongue up and down, sending aggressive shivers down your spine. Your breathing shutters, and you lift your head, it hits the wall.
His hands squeeze your thighs, keeping your legs in place. His tongue hits a nerve, and you can’t stop it when you let out a soft moan. He pauses, looks up at you, and continues. As if he’s noting where and what makes you feel good. That fucking eidetic memory.
Your hand moves around his hair. The soft feeling helping to relax your nerves. When he hits the spot, your grip tightens, as well as his grip on your thighs. You note that.
“Spencer..” His name comes out in a long breath, and you look down at him with glossy eyes and upward brows. He almost passes out at the sight, it goes straight to his pants.
He moves his eyes to look forward, and you can feel him smiling. It once again makes you melt. His tongue moves up to your clit, making you physically jolt, accompanied by a louder moan.
“Fuck!-“ you put a hand over your mouth, trying to contain yourself, but he reaches up and pulls it down.
He pulls away from you just enough to speak. “I need to hear you.” He says. His voice was soft, almost pleading, accompanied by his begging eyes, how could you say no? “Please.”
Your face somehow gets even more red, and you nod.
He continues, interlocking his hands with yours, making sure they stay by your side. His tongue laps at your clit again, and you elicit moans that shouldn’t be real, but he makes them exist.
That fact that this is all happening in a spaceship that he made, makes it all the better.
“You taste so good.” He says. And his voice is unlike anything you’ve ever heard before. It’s low and sultry, filled with the most sinful tone one could have. For a second you aren’t sure it’s Spencer. But then he does that thing, when he laughs and scoffs at the same time, and you know it’s him. “Like honey.” He adds, before going back in to finish what he started.
You unsurprisingly feel the release coming, especially with the way his mouth is completely consuming your entire being. He licks and laps and sucks, making you squirm and moan uncontrollably. You never want it to stop. He goes back to that sensitive spot, making you whimper and cry out in pleasure. He stays there for a while, deciding that he wants to hear you come undone by him.
“Spencer, I’m-im gonna-“ but you’re cut off by the intense heat that pools beneath you, the long tingling sensation that makes you unable to think, the one that makes you weak in the knees. He continues even after you finish, prolonging your orgasm to its highest extent.
It’s only when you pull his face away from your body, does he stop.
You look down at him, your hand in his hair, him looking up at you by your gentle command. His eyes are glossy with lust, and when you smile, and he smiles back. Pushing your legs off of his shoulders, he stands, and kisses you.
It’s passionate, sweet. It’s a kiss you won’t ever forget. His hands return to your face, softly caressing your cheek, before pulling away to look you in the eyes. He was suddenly nervous, as if that confidence he had a minute ago was completely gone. He blinks, clearing his throat.
“Was that…good?” He asks.
“More than good. But now it’s your turn.”