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It hadn’t ever been like this before. The need was unbearable; an itching feeling beneath his skin at the sight of tailored suits and mussed hair. There had never been desperation in any of his relationships and it made him inexplicably nervous. Not sweating palms and quaky knees nervous like he’d been trying out for that damn play or when he’d finally asked Hayley Brooks out in an incomprehensible rush of words. Not the slight shake as he climbed the steps to Beth’s apartment with flowers in hand. No, this was a bone-deep need that shook him to his carefully controlled core. It made him want to run away. It made him want to end it all. He didn’t, though. He wouldn’t. Because when Spencer curled his toes, fingers digging into Hotch’s shoulders, back arching and head thrown back, well, that was pure ecstasy.