Work Text:
Title: "Confession Collision"
The day started with coffee. That should’ve been Luke’s first clue that things were about to go sideways.
Not just coffee—but Spencer’s coffee. Which Luke, in a moment of pure distraction while mentally rehearsing his declaration of love, accidentally grabbed from the break room counter.
“You took my coffee,” Spencer said flatly, appearing at Luke’s side like an accusatory ghost.
Luke turned slowly, blinking at the empty cup in his hand. “No, I—wait. Crap.”
Spencer arched a brow. “Hazelnut and a triple shot of espresso. I don’t even know how you drink that without vibrating through the floor.”
“I have good taste,” Luke said quickly, chucking the empty cup. “And you have…very soft footsteps.”
Spencer looked at him for a long moment, then sighed and walked away muttering something about caffeinated theft and personal betrayal.
Luke sighed too. So much for smooth beginnings.
Today was the day. The day he was going to tell Spencer how he felt. No more awkwardly long glances across the bullpen. No more pretending he wasn’t one mental breakdown away from writing “I heart Spencer” in a case file margin. No more pretending he didn’t spend every minute they weren’t together thinking about how Spencer would look in his oversized ARMY hoodie.
The plan was simple: wait until they finished the briefing, corner Spencer in the hallway like a gentleman, and tell him everything. Logical, concise, maybe a little charming. The BAU was full of profilers—honesty had to count for something.
But first, he had to survive the meeting.
10:14 AM - BAU Briefing Room
“Victim number four was found in a public park, staged similarly to the others—"
Luke wasn’t listening. Not really. He should have been, but Spencer was sitting across the table in his cardigan and glasses and oh God, Luke’s brain had chosen now to replay that dream from last week where they kissed in the back of the SUV during a stakeout.
Spencer raised an eyebrow at him.
Focus, Alvez, focus.
He looked down at the file in front of him. The victim’s name was…was something. He couldn’t remember. All he could think about was how Spencer’s lips twitched when he read aloud, and how his hair curled a little at the nape of his neck.
“Luke?” Emily said.
Luke jolted. “What?”
Emily stared. “I asked if you and Reid can take the witness interviews.”
Spencer looked amused. “I’ll drive.”
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine,” Luke mumbled. He tried not to sound like he was wheezing.
12:47 PM – On the Road
The car was too quiet.
Luke tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, sneaking glances at Spencer, who was flipping through the case file.
“You’re twitchy,” Spencer noted, not looking up.
“Twitchy?”
Spencer turned a page. “That’s the technical term. You’re bouncing your knee like we’re sitting on a bomb.”
Luke considered saying something clever, then remembered this was Spencer Reid, human lie detector with cheekbones sharp enough to cut through his last ounce of denial.
“I just…” Luke hesitated. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Spencer looked up. “Okay.”
“Not now. Later.”
Spencer blinked. “Are you breaking up with me?”
“We’re not dating,” Luke said.
Spencer tilted his head. “That would make it an even weirder time to break up with me.”
Luke gripped the steering wheel. “You’re not making this easier.”
“I didn’t realize I was supposed to.”
1:52 PM – Witness Interview
The witness was a 72-year-old man named Hank who had very little to say about the murder but a lot to say about his pet parrot, Captain Beakman.
Spencer asked about the timeline of events. Hank answered by pointing at the parrot, who promptly shrieked, “He’s LYING! LYINGGG!”
Luke tried not to snort.
Spencer shot him a glare.
“Sorry,” Luke whispered. “Bird’s got good instincts.”
Captain Beakman flapped his wings. “PRETTY BOY! PRETTY BOY!”
Luke coughed, face turning red.
Spencer blinked. “Was…was that directed at me?”
The bird whistled.
Hank smiled. “He likes you.”
Spencer looked disturbed.
Luke said, “Can’t blame him.”
There was silence.
Then Spencer muttered something that sounded a lot like 'traitorous avian' and returned to his notes.
4:03 PM – Back at Quantico
Luke had one chance left. He cornered Spencer by the vending machines. The hallway was empty. The overhead lights buzzed. His heart pounded.
“Spence—”
“Is this about the coffee again? Because I’m still annoyed.”
“No. Well, yes. But more importantly—”
“Did you spill something on my files?”
“No. I mean. Possibly. But not the point. Just…look at me.”
Spencer blinked up at him.
Luke exhaled. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something for a while. And I keep putting it off because I’m a coward and you’re intimidating and beautiful and—dammit, that wasn’t the order I wanted.”
Spencer stared. “Beautiful?”
Luke froze. “I mean. In a clinical way.”
“A clinical way?”
“You know. Statistically.”
“You’re calling me statistically beautiful?”
Luke sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “This is going so badly.”
“I’m actually enjoying it,” Spencer said, eyes twinkling.
“Of course you are.” Luke rubbed the back of his neck. “What I’m trying to say is, I have feelings for you. Big ones. The kind that don’t go away no matter how many times I tell myself you’re out of my league and probably think I’m just some meathead with a badge.”
“You think I don’t have feelings for you?” Spencer asked, frowning.
Luke blinked. “Wait, what?”
“I was going to confess two weeks ago,” Spencer admitted. “But then I overheard you saying you were ‘too emotionally constipated for heartfelt monologues.’ So I figured you weren’t ready.”
“That was about Rossi's wedding toast,” Luke said.
“Oh.”
They stared at each other.
“You like me?” Luke asked, voice cracking slightly.
Spencer stepped closer. “Luke, you’re one of the kindest people I know. You always carry an extra snack for JJ, you pretend not to notice when Garcia cries during animal rescue commercials, and you let me ramble about 18th-century literature for twenty minutes on the jet.”
Luke blinked. “I like when you do that.”
Spencer smiled. “Then maybe you should let me take you out for coffee next time.”
“I’d like that,” Luke said, finally grinning.
“Good,” Spencer replied. “Because I’m tired of you stealing mine.”
Luke laughed, reaching for Spencer’s hand. “Deal. But just so we’re clear—I was totally going to confess first.”
“Sure you were,” Spencer said, already walking away, smug grin in place.
Luke watched him go, heart hammering, smile growing.
Best confession fail ever.