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"Are you absolutely sure I should go with this one?"
Derek had to physically restrain himself from rolling his eyes at his friend's antics. He had been sitting on Spencer's couch for the past two hours, watching him go from shirt to shirt and panic every time he saw himself in the mirror.
He loved Spencer, there was absolutely no doubt about that. But frankly, he was two shirts away from slapping the genius upside the head.
"Look, kid," he sighed, pushing himself up off the couch and walking over to Spencer, clasping both hands on his shoulders to stop the rambling before it even began. "How long have you known Y/N for?" He asked.
"One hundred and fifty two days, five hours and-"
"Five months, Reid. You've known Y/N for five months. And you've been in love with her for longer than I know you'll admit. I'm pretty sure she won't care what shirt you wear tonight, alright? The girl really likes you," he reassured the profiler before him, nodding his head. "Trust me, all she wants is to spend time with you, and the last thing she'll be doing is questioning your sense of style."
"But what if-"
"Nope. No buts, pretty boy. It's your first date, you look great, end of story." Derek said, leaving no space for Spencer to argue before he shoved the cardigan he had picked out into his arms. "I'll be in the car, okay? If you're not down there in five minutes, I'm dragging you out by the ear."
Spencer nodded stiffly, letting out a small sigh and as Derek left the apartment, pulling the door closed behind him with a gentle click.
What the hell had he gotten himself into?
He dropped the chunky cardigan onto the couch and turned to the mirror, staring at his reflection in silence for a few seconds.
Derek was right. He had known you for a few months now, and he was certain you liked him as much as you did him, if your body language was anything to go by.
Which... it was, obviously. He was a profiler, it was his job to be able to distinguish and pick these things apart.
After tugging at the collar of his shirt to adjust it and making sure all the buttons were buttoned correctly, he took a deep breath. Combing his fingers through his hair, Spencer straightened himself up to his full height and released the breath he had been holding in. Finally, he grabbed his cardigan back off the couch and left his apartment.
-
The two were now sitting outside the restaurant in Derek's car, which he had parked and shut off to give Spencer one last pep talk. However, not even halfway into his talk, he realized Spencer wasn't listening; no, his eyes were glued to you, the pretty girl sitting by the window inside the restaurant, stroking the spine of the book you held in your hand.
"Maybe I should've worn the other shirt…" Spencer murmured, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of the black button-up shirt he had decided to go with.
"Kid, you look fine- hey!" Derek's hand on Spencer's shoulder brought him out of his daze, causing him to look up. "She'll love you."
"Yeah…" Spencer said with uncertainty, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. His gaze shifted from Derek, back to you to see you were now toying with a strand of your hair. His lips slowly curved into a smile.
God, you were perfect.
"Yeah," he nodded, looking back at Morgan and grabbing the book he had gotten you from the book store a few nights ago. Based on your conversations on Greek poems and mythology, Spencer knew you would enjoy it, as it was definitely one of his personal favorites.
"Atta boy. Now, go get her, tiger," Derek chuckled, giving the young genius a playful shove. Spencer stepped out of the car, holding his head up higher than he had when he had first gotten in. With the book clutched in his hand, he looked back towards Morgan, who gave him a thumbs up and a nod.
Shutting the door, Spencer reached up to fix his hair, but stopped himself before he could. Swallowing thickly, he walked into the restaurant, allowing the waitress to guide him to his seat after he told her his name.
You looked up as he approached, snatching the book off the table before Spencer could see it. Smiling brightly up at him as he sat down, you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "Spence, hi!" You greeted.
“Hey, Y/N.” Spencer's heart fluttered, and he found himself immediately relaxing in his seat, your presence alone being enough to calm him. "You look beautiful," he said, his hands fiddling with the cream satin bow he had tied around the book in his lap.
"Oh, thank you. You're looking incredibly handsome, as usual."
You paused, your face filling with dread when you realized what you had just said.
"Wait, oh my god, I'm so sorry-"
Spencer's soft laugh stopped you before you had the chance to finish your apology, and he shook his head with a sincere smile. "No, it's alright. Thank you."
"And I like your shirt, by the way. It looks really good on you," you said, leaning forward and crossing your arms over the table. Your beautiful eyes trailed over Spencer’s body in a way that made him suppress a shiver. "Black suits you."
He bowed his head, cheeks flaring up at the compliment. Spencer smiled to himself, making a point to turn his head slightly to look out the window, where Derek was still sitting in his car, giving him a thumbs up with one hand and holding up his phone with the other.
With a subtle shake of his head and a light chuckle, he looked back up at you, thanking you softly.
All things considered, Spencer decided Derek had been right about two things.
One, the shirt was, in fact, fine.
And two, he was desperately in love with the girl with the sparkling eyes sitting across from him.