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If Hotch hadn’t gone soft, Spencer would not be in this horrifying situation, so really, it’s his fault.
He’d finally given into Penelope’s Secret Santa plans that she proposed every year without fail -- complete with a different theme each time, this one’s being pink glitter -- and Spencer knew that she’d teamed up with Emily and JJ when her computer programme ‘randomly’ gave him Derek. They’d all been egging him on ever since they found out about his hopeless crush on the older man, but he flat out refused to make any kind of move much to their chagrin. How could he when there was absolutely no way in any kind of universe that Derek would love him back?
It felt almost like a ploy to embarrass him, and he’d be hurt if he didn’t know that Penelope was physically incapable of cruelty, but it had sent him into a complete tailspin. He’d spent the whole two weeks between drawing Derek’s name and the fateful day of gift-giving panicking about what to get him and then panicking that Derek wouldn’t like what he eventually bought. They’d all tried to assure him that it would be fine and Derek would love it, but it was hopeless; he couldn’t help but lie awake at night, second-guessing himself in every way possible.
Of course, it was only made worse by Spencer’s utter confusion. No matter how many times he badgered them, they denied it completely -- even after he plied them with red wine and a girls plus Spencer night -- and he failed to understand their plan. He had no idea how giving Derek a gift was supposed to magically make him attractive and get them together, the whole thing just seemed utterly impossible to him.
But he couldn’t change it: he couldn’t hurt Penelope’s feelings by not participating, and he didn’t want to leave Derek as the only one without a present either, so here he is, sitting at his desk with butterflies in his stomach the Monday before Christmas, anxiously awaiting Penelope’s summon into the briefing room. The words on the paperwork in front of him blur together as he taps his foot repetitively, rethinking everything all over again. Maybe he’d tried too hard, maybe Derek wouldn’t like his present, maybe he was being too obvious with his feelings, maybe the others would see right through him…
Unable to back down and with no escape route planned, though, he takes a moment to compose himself as Penelope calls everyone in and trudges towards the briefing room, ignoring Emily’s pat on the back and Penelope’s bright and hopeful expression.
“Now, since bossman has finally allowed the best Christmas game ever invented to take place in our humble workplace, I introduce to you,” Penelope begins excitedly, looking the epitome of Christmas in her little green print dress and red tights, “Secret Santa: BAU edition.”
Spencer allows himself to glance over at Derek sitting a few seats away between JJ and Hotch, and it only makes him feel worse when he looks as cool as a cucumber, the antithesis to the burning fury of anxiety whirling in his chest.
“I just hope Rossi was my Secret Santa,” Derek laughs, not helping Spencer’s anxiety at all.
“If I had you, Derek, I’d give you coal,” Rossi says, looking far too pleased with himself as the rest of the room laughs.
“Hey, no scrooges allowed,” Penelope pouts, looking to Emily for reinforcements. The reinforcement Emily provides is smacking Rossi upside the head, but it seems to please Penelope well enough. “Now, my computer programme will generate each person’s name randomly and their Secret Santa will give them their gift, got it?”
Spencer’s hands fidget violently with one another as they wait for Penelope to generate the first name, stomach flipping over on itself as he wonders if Derek is still going to be his friend after this.
He manages to get himself to pay decent enough attention to the game as soon as it starts, and he watches as Hotch is the first name drawn and Emily produces two tickets to the Christmas Eve exhibition at the Planetarium. It’s a great start and it relaxes Spencer a little as Hotch smiles widely and gives Emily a hug, the environment immediately feeling more Christmassy as the wrapping paper gathers in the middle of the table and Penelope turns up the music.
“Ooh, that’s me!” Penelope squeals as her programme generates JJ’s name and she pushes over her beautifully wrapped box, tied in a bow. They all compliment her wrapping skills as JJ carefully unpeels the paper to reveal an elegant, royal-blue jewellery box.
“This is gorgeous, Penelope,” JJ gasps, “thank you so much.”
“Open it!” she says, practically bouncing in excitement as her grin widens.
JJ does and pulls out an absolutely beautiful, delicate, silver necklace. “You remembered?” JJ asks in awe, as she looks up with glossy eyes.
“Of course I did,” Penelope says softly. The rest of them watch on as they hug one another tightly, both pulling away teary-eyed. “Oh, that reminds me! I baked cookies.” She brings out a tupperware box full of perfectly shaped gingerbread men decorated in white icing with copious amounts of pink sprinkles decorating the top.
“Oh, God, you’re a fucking miracle,” Emily grins as she grabs one first.
“These are so good, Penelope,” Spencer says, speaking up for the first time as he bites into one of the heavenly biscuits.
“Okay, okay, compliments later,” Penelope says, but she’s smiling warmly at the praise. “The next name is… me!”
She grins widely as Hotch reaches under the table to get his present for her out. “Admittedly, I did need some help from the rest of the team with this one,” he says a little sheepishly as she dives straight into the modest wrapping paper.
“Ahh, I love it!” she squeals as she pulls out a baking decoration kit full of colourful, glittery sprinkles and icing. It’s the perfect present for Penelope and everyone knows it: the next few days will be full of brightly decorated baked goods. Not a completely selfless present on Hotch’s part. “Thank you thank you thank you!”
She totters over to Hotch on her cute little kitten heels decorated with little boughs of holly and gives him a huge hug, and the others watch him surrender into it. Everyone knows Penelope is Hotch’s favourite and they have a close relationship, but it’s still amusing to watch him soften his hard exterior so quickly.
“Right, okay,” Penelope says as she gets back to her computer and brings up the next name. “Next up is Spencer.”
“Oh, that’s me,” Derek says, and Spencer immediately snaps his head to Penelope, who just looks away, clearly guilty yet utterly unremorseful. He can’t stop himself from flushing at the notion of Derek Morgan thinking about him, shopping for him, spending money on him, but he forces himself to act as normal as possible.
Derek slides over his present, messy wrapping paper taped hastily over a cardboard box which clearly houses the gift. Spencer smiles and makes shy eye contact as he begins unwrapping, feeling a little pressure at the audience of all their friends, but he soon relaxes as he sees what’s inside. Derek had given him a year-long subscription to a coffee delivery service along with the temperature control mug he’d mentioned earlier that month.
“This is great,” Spencer says, smiling earnestly up at Derek as he fiddles with his gifts. “Thank you.”
“Don’t take this as an endorsement of the quantity of coffee you drink, though, kid,” Derek jokes, getting up and walking round to Spencer’s seat just to ruffle his hair.
“Hey, no insults,” Spencer protests, “it’s Christmas.”
“Alright, alright,” Derek grins, heading back to his seat, looking very pleased with himself.
Rossi is next, and JJ hands him an expensive bottle of Scotch that he looks thoroughly pleased with. “Buying something for someone who has everything is not an easy endeavour,” she laughs as he opens the cap for a quick whiff, pointedly ignoring Hotch’s warning look.
Emily gets two places on a first-rate, overly expensive cooking course from Rossi: “you need them, Emily,” he laughs, “I’ll come along to supervise.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about my Christmas present being a simultaneous insult,” she says dryly, but she still leans over and gives him a hug. “Thanks, Rossi.”
Great, Spencer thinks, as he’s left for last. Derek looks over at him and smiles cheekily as he realises that Spencer must be his Secret Santa, even before Penelope calls out his name.
“What have you got for me then, pretty boy?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows expectedly.
Spencer blushes again and tells everyone to hold on while he rushes back to his desk to grab the big, flat parcel that holds Derek’s present inside. He takes the opportunity to try and calm down a little, too, breathing deeply as he escapes the loud, chaotic, and joyous environment for just a minute.
“Oh, wow,” Derek remarks as he walks back in with the package under his arm. “This looks interesting.”
Spencer sits down as Derek starts to hastily unwrap the paper that he’d spent far too long making sure was absolutely perfect.
He opens the box to reveal the hockey stick that Patrick Kane, Derek’s favourite hockey player, had used in the Blackhawks game they went to see together in 2009. It’s signed, and under Kane’s autograph, Spencer had written: “they know how to break the ice” in his neatest possible handwriting, a reference to the horrible pun Spencer had told him while at the game that later became a source of much of Derek’s teasing.
“Wow, Spencer, this is… this is amazing,” Derek says, a little awe-struck as he traces Spencer’s words with his thumb, skipping straight over the autograph in favour of his neat handwriting. He looks up at Spencer eventually and he wants to capture the expression on Derek’s face and frame it: he looks so grateful and nostalgic and elated at once, a beautiful cocktail of emotions that suit him so well.
“I’m glad you like it,” Spencer says quietly, pretty blush still settled on his cheeks.
(Neither of them notices the rest of them either rolling their eyes or giving one another knowing looks, they’re too wrapped up in looking at one another.)
★
They eventually disperse to finish up their work for the day, Penelope ensuring everyone’s armed with at least one gingerbread man to get through the last few hours, and Spencer feels infinitely more relaxed. Derek liked his present, he didn’t give anything away, and he certainly didn’t embarrass himself: everything went well. Plus, he now has a subscription to a coffee delivery service, so overall, he’s definitely had worse days.
He gets back to his paperwork and adjusts quickly to the transition from Christmas music to serial murder, racing through his case files in a desperate attempt to finish the day as early as possible. He’s going round to Penelope’s with Emily and JJ and it’s exactly what he needs after a long, anxiety-filled day. Plus, his good mood will carry over perfectly into an environment of pizza and red wine.
As the day draws to a close, he gets up from his desk to hand in his files to Hotch, and as he walks away from his office, Derek catches his arm. “Hey, come with me a minute?” he asks, a little cryptically.
“Oh, uh, okay,” Spencer stutters, caught off guard as Derek places a hand on his upper back and guides him down the hall, skin burning at the contact.
Derek pulls them into one of the unused offices and shows him to a comfortable chair. “I have another present for you,” he tells him in a low, intense voice that sends shivers up his spine. He goes to one of the filing cabinets, clearly having planned this in advance, and Spencer watches his strong body move under his clothes as he unlocks it and reaches into the top drawer, producing a gift bag which he sets on Spencer’s lap. “Open it.”
Spencer does, carefully, and unwraps a gorgeously preserved early edition of Pablo Neruda’s Cien Sonetos de Amor. He’d mentioned far too many times just how much he adored Neruda’s poetry and obviously, Derek had paid attention. It feels like a promise of something, like he’s missing the big picture as he’s zeroed in on this exact moment of unfettered intimacy, but he looks up at Derek with wide eyes after tracing the embossed cover with his index finger.
“Oh my God, Derek, wow,” he manages, trying not to sound as choked up as he feels. “Thank you so much, I have no idea how you managed this.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Derek dismisses, a gentle smile resting on his face. “I just hope you enjoy it.”
“I will,” Spencer promises, “of course I will. Neruda’s poetry is beautiful and even more so in the original Spanish. I’ve always wanted to own an early edition so this is just the most perfect gift ever. I can use all of your presents simultaneously, actually.”
Derek laughs, but it’s coloured with a touch of nervousness. “I actually have one more thing.”
“What?” Spencer says, bewildered. “Derek you don’t have to--”
“No, just. Trust me,” Derek interrupts, holding a hand up and smiling fondly. He reaches into his trouser pocket and pulls out a small velvet pouch. Untying it carefully, he extracts a small sprig of mistletoe.
Spencer immediately freezes, a cold feeling of dread settling into his bones. Derek is mocking him. “What are you doing, Derek?” he asks, voice hard.
His smile falls a little as confusion takes its place. “What do you mean? Isn’t it obvious, I--”
“I get it, I’m an easy target, but this is low even for you, Morgan,” Spencer spits out defensively, good mood from earlier dissipating fast.
“What, no, Spencer,” Derek protests, reaching gently for Spencer’s wrist as he stands up when Spencer does. “I’m being serious, I’m trying to kiss you.”
“Really?” Spencer asks in a small voice, suddenly feeling a bit stupid and a lot scared.
“Really,” Derek chuckles. “Is that okay?”
“Yes,” Spencer whispers.
The next thing he knows, Derek’s lips are on his own and his hands grasp Spencer’s cheeks gently. He tries to say everything he’s never been able to in the way he kisses back, but it’s such a whirlwind of a moment that it feels like he’s missed it when they pull away. All he knows for certain is that Derek kissing him makes him feel things he’s never felt before and if he could spend his entire life in that moment then he would without question.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” Derek murmurs, running his thumb over Spencer’s bottom lip as they stay in each other’s space, Spencer’s hands moving to Derek’s waist.
“Me too,” he confesses, looking into Derek’s warm, soft eyes filled with so much fondness and kindness it almost bowls Spencer over.
“How would you like to get dinner with me later tonight?” Derek suggests, cheekiness invading his features but not taking away any of their softness.
“I would like that very much,” Spencer smiles shyly. “Although Penelope might be disappointed, I was meant to go over there.”
“Oh I can assure you she will not be disappointed in any way shape or form,” Derek laughs. “She orchestrated this whole thing.”
“I knew it!” Spencer exclaims, shaking his head a little, making Derek smile warmly at him.
“That woman is a minx but if she got me you, she’s welcome to be as devious as she likes,” Derek admits.
“She’s going to have a lot of fun holding this over our heads, though,” he points out, half dreading Penelope’s reaction already.
“She most certainly is,” Derek grins. “Right. You leave first. I’ll pick you up at 7.30, is Italian food okay?”
“It’s perfect,” Spencer says softly, gathering his Neruda book along with the mistletoe and its pouch and reluctantly heads towards the door. He turns back to face Derek just before he does.
“I’ll see you later, pretty boy,” Derek promises, eyes still relaxed and fond in a way that makes Spencer’s stomach clench.
“See you later, Derek,” Spencer replies warmly, before opening the door and stepping back into the hustle and bustle of the FBI headquarters, away from the safe haven Derek managed to create out of a random disused office.
It feels like stepping into a new chapter of his life, though, like something fundamental has changed, the realities underpinning Spencer’s life shifting like tectonic plates, and if he can’t wipe the ridiculous smile off his face for the rest of the day, then that’s no-one’s business but his own (and the five other FBI agents who really aren’t as oblivious as he thinks).