Fics like My Bedsheets Are Ablaze, I've Screamed His Name

“H-hotch?” Spencer squeaks, scrambling back against the dryer. It’s times like this where he forgets that they live in the same building, which is only facilitated by the fact that it barely plays a role in their day to day lives. It’s rare that Hotch offers him a ride, both of them so stuck in their usual routines that they end up taking their own ways to Quantico, and at work, it’s never a big topic of discussion either. Spencer also pointedly doesn’t allow himself to think about it, lest the potential domesticity of it all goes to his head and makes him slip up. Perhaps, he should have kept his guard up more. Then again, what are the odds of walking into his superior at almost 5 AM in the morning, doing laundry? “I-I thought you were away with Jack and Jessica this week.” Spencer sputters. “You’re wearing my shirt.” Hotch points out, flat, straight to the point. Or: Spencer has a slight mishap and needs to do his laundry in the shared laundry room of the apartment complex both he and Hotch live in. Half naked. In Hotch's shirt. It goes as well as you'd expect it to.

Fics like My Bedsheets Are Ablaze, I've Screamed His Name

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