Work Text:
(Picture Prompts by Keira Marcos)
People often said that Spencer Reid was complicated.
They looked at him and only saw his intelligence and personality quirks. Colleagues and local LEOs looked at his revolver and raised an eyebrow, silently asking why he wasn't using an FBI standard issue weapon. People were affronted continually when he wouldn't shake a stranger's hand. They were intimidated by his seemingly endless knowledge of facts and helplessly stumbled along as his mind connected dots they couldn't even see.
They saw his preference for printed paper over digital files and jumped to the conclusion that he must hate technology. They found him socially awkward and assumed that he couldn’t form any sort of meaningful personal relationships, let alone romantic attachments.
They assumed that one would have to constantly stretch oneself to keep up with such a man, to accommodate his shortcomings as a ‘normal’ person, and to be prepared to discuss nothing but complex literature and scientific journals or the intricacies of nerdy fandoms.
That’s not what Aaron saw.
He saw a brilliant young man who had to grow up too fast. Who had suffered more than most and come out stronger. Who in the face of the worst humanity had to offer, came out with the capability to love and forgive every time. And who could enjoy the most simple things especially because he could value all their aspects.
He saw his husband, curled up in his favourite chair by the fireplace with their son, helping Jack practise his reading with patience and pride.
He joined them claiming the corner of the couch and set the larger of the two cups of coffee he was carrying within Spencer’s reach. It took only seconds for the smell to waft over and break him out of his concentration. Spencer reached for the mug with a beaming smile towards Aaron and inhaled the aroma with closed eyes and a content hum. When Jack stretched to smell it as well, he lowered the mug enough for the little boy to reach.
“Urgh. Yours smells not as bad as dad’s but still urgh.”
Aaron laughed. “That’s because papa likes his coffee with an awful lot of sugar.” He blithely ignored the mock glare his husband sent him.
“But sugar isn’t good for you!” Jack protested with a betrayed look at his papa.
“You’re right,” Aaron agreed. “We’ll have to make sure he makes up for it by eating lots and lots of vegetables.”
“No! Aaron Hotchner, that is beyond the pale!” Spencer complained in a huff. But then he looked down at Jack’s solemn nods and slumped in defeat.
This was happiness. And nothing about it was complicated.