Summary: Spencer comes to a conclusion during a late night with Reader.
Rating: G
Content Warning: Kissing
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It was a Friday night like almost any other; Spencer and I sat on my couch in my living room, separated by filler pillows that I'd hoarded over the years. Usually, we would simply and quietly catch up on the latest Doctor Who episodes we'd missed thanks to the incredibly rude serial killers, but tonight was one of the rare weeks where we managed to stay home for long enough to be caught up, so we were able to switch and continue where we'd left off on our rewatch: The Satan Pit.
I had barely taken my eyes off the screen for an hour, but I could vaguely feel Spencer losing focus. Occasionally I would glance over to see he hadn't been watching the show, and was instead watching my reaction to it. Normally, I would be more self conscious, but I couldn't care less when the Tenth Doctor commanded my attention!
As I watched Rose jump into his arms, being enveloped by the neon orange jumpsuit, I had to pause the show. Without even looking away, I made an exasperated noise, smacking my hands on my legs crossed on the couch.
"How do people not understand the cinematic masterpiece that is this episode?" I half shouted at Spencer, who knows better than to answer just yet. "Like honestly, did they even watch it? The constant contrast is present in everything! From the colors used in the Doctor's costume to the swells in the music— how else do you watch it? Do they not see it? Hear it? Feel it?"
This time, Spencer chuckled and almost started to talk, but I groaned and cut him off to continue my rant, "I just don't get it, Spencer."
He smiled that soft, goofy smile that he always gave when I got too excited. "Everyone loves the episodes by Moffat, but there are so many things just... wrong! Like you expect me to believe that the Doctor, in all his magnificent wisdom, would be more interested in fucking Madame de Pompadoure, rather than her contributions to the political landscape? She ran a war for seven years!"
I unpaused the episode, allowing the credit to continue to roll as I angrily shoved popcorn into my mouth.
"I mean, I'm pretty sure she also wouldn't have been that highly sexualized, considering she couldn't have sex for the last like, ten years of her life, and regularly helped bringing consorts for her King." I said as I crossed my arms and watched the screen go black with a sigh.
Quickly, I paused the show once more.
"Does he honestly expect me to believe that she was doing that because she was pining over a man who saved her when she was a little kid, rather than her health? I get it's supposed to be science fiction, but it's just irresponsible. You know?"
I finally looked over to the man who had been peculiarly silent throughout my rant. It wasn't entirely like him to not try to cooperatively overlap with me, or outright try to quiet me so he could actually speak. But in that moment, he looked at me with a look I'd only seen a few times before.
"Sorry, I should shut up—" I started, but was suddenly interrupted with a quiet but firm phrase that took me so off guard, I barely registered it at all.
"I think you might be my soulmate."
Silence filled the room as I stared, slack jawed and confused at a way-too-calm Spencer. People often say that butterflies are fluttering in their stomach, but in all honesty, mine felt like they were exploding. I had yet to take a breath, and I swear my heart stopped.
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Spencer Reid | Oneshots
FanfictionA collection of my Oneshots about our beloved Dr. Spencer Reid. Ratings and Genre listed in Chapter Titles!