Spencer Reid x Reader One-Shots

Coming Out

Title: Coming Out

Word Count: 1010

Summary: The reader comes out as bisexual to Spencer, her best friend.

Rating: T

Requested by: tomato_tomatto

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     At tap on your shoulder breaks you away from the paperwork on your desk. You pull out one of your earbuds, which had been blasting music in an effort to drown out the din of the Quantico bullpen, and turn to look at the tapper. Your eyes follow the long finger up to a hand, a bare forearm, a dress-shirt clad bicep, a broad shoulder, and to the handsome face of your best friend, Spencer Reid.

His shadowed brown eyes seem concerned as he sets a cup of coffee on to your desk. He bites his light pink lip and then frowns at you.

     "Before you ask, Spence, I'm fine." You say, giving him your most convincing grin. He just frowns again.

     "(Y/N)..." He starts.

     "Spencer..." You mimic.

     "I can see that there's something going on. You have bags under your eyes, you're antisocial, you-"

     "Okay, okay! I get it. You're all-knowing, and I'm a mere slave to my emotions and tells. I'll tell you later. Now, can I get back to my paperwork?" You ask him, snippy and annoyed.

     He looks a little put out, but quickly perks up when he realizes what you've said. "You'll tell me?"

     You bite your lip. Spencer is right, as usual. Something is going on, something that had been going on for a long time. You had just broken up with your girlfriend. You desperately wanted to talk to Spence about it, because it had been a serious relationship and you were rather torn up about it. The catch is, he doesn't know you're bisexual. You didn't know how he'd react.

     You were scared. People had had adverse reactions to you coming out in the past, and you really didn't want that to happen with Spencer. You had been friends with him for nearly a year now, and even if the bisexual thing didn't bother him, the fact that you'd never told him might. To be honest, you were already heartbroken over the breakup, and you didn't want to lose Spencer too.

     But you needed to vent. Besides, if there was anyone you trusted in this world, it was Spence.

     "Yes," You say, resigned. "I'll tell you. Want to take the long journey up the elevator from your apartment to mine after work?"

     "Sure. I can bring you some food? Ice cream?" He offers.

     The man is a godsend.

     "Would you?"

     He nods.

     "I will love you forever." You declare, and he grins at you with a small wave as he heads back to his desk.

     You, meanwhile, try to calm down. Spencer is your friend. He wouldn't reject you. Not ever.

     You try not to stare at his retreating figure. After all, one of the contributing factors to your breakup with your girlfriend is your slight crush on Spence.

     And the long hours away from home.

     And how withdrawn you tended to get after cases.

     And how much time you spent with the team.

     These reasons seemed logical in your head, but two nights ago, they had been screamed at you through tears. They hadn't seemed quite so logical then. But how could you judge? You were emotional as well, crying and arguing. That seemed to happen a lot, later in your relationship with her.

     Blinking quickly to clear the tears that had begun to form in your eyes, you put your earbud back in. You have work to do.

     You do work. Or, you start to, at least.

     Then the song comes on. Your song. Yours and your girlfriend's.

     The tears start before you can stop them. Springing up from your desk, earbud thrown off, you dash off to the archives, which you know to be empty, brushing tears from your cheeks. Your head is down to hide your face. You get there quickly enough to run inside, close the door, and lean against a filing cabinet before you really start to bawl.

     Why you thought that you were okay, just mere days after the breakup, is beyond you now. Why did you even come in today?

     The answer to your question walks through the door.

     Spencer's eyes are wide and worried, and become more so when they latch onto you, sobbing and leaning against a filing cabinet.

     "(Y/N)?" He asks quietly, closing the door behind him. "Are you okay?"

     "Peachy," you hiccup out.

     "I know you wanted to wait until after work to talk about this, but you seem really upset..." He says as he walks forward, stand close enough for comfort but far enough for space. "Can you tell me now? I want to help."

     You bite your lip and sniffle. You're not sure you want to talk about this here, at work, where any bad reactions could be in display. But Spencer would never...

     "Screw it," you say. "I just broke up with my g-girlfriend."

     Spencer's eyes go wider. "Your girlfriend?"

     "I'm bi. I'm sorry, I should have told you, but I was scared you'd-"

     "Do what? Think of you as less of a person? (Y/N), you're my best friend. That would never change because of something as trivial as sexual orientation." He moves forward and pulls you into an embrace.

     You hiccup against his warm, cologne-scented shoulder. "T-thank you."

     "As for why and how, do you wanna keep talking, or wait until we get off work?" He asks, still holding you and speaking into your hair.

     "Can- can we talk now?" You ask hesitantly.

     "I can do you one better," he says, pulling back and wiping tears from your cheeks. "We can get off work now and talk."

     "That sounds really good, but... can we actually do that?" You ask.

     "Well, I've taken about three days off during my career here at the BAU. I think they'll be glad to see me go."

     You give a watery smile at that. You feel a little better already.