Spencer made it to the Bureau just under the hour deadline. Even so, he was the second-to-last one to arrive, and he hurried quickly towards the conference room where the others were. It had taken a little too long for him to swing by his apartment and grab his go bag out of the living room. The cab had been waiting outside, though, and he was already running late, so there was no time for him to change into his work clothes without making himself really late. Unfortunately, that meant that he not only had to walk into the conference room wearing the jeans, shirt and jacket that he'd worn out to the club—a style his team had never seen him in before and one that would probably earn him some teasing—he was also without his usual ability to cover up everything. His jacket was just long enough to cover his wrists so long as he was careful, but he hadn't had anything to hide the bruising on his neck.

Thank God for Remy. The man had pulled a long, thin maroon scarf out of his suitcase and had wrapped it around his neck for him until it covered the marks and looked like he'd worn it as part of the outfit. Spencer had tried to insist he couldn't take his scarf and that he'd just grab one at his apartment but Remy had just laughed and winked and said he'd get it back next time. Then the cab had arrived and Spencer had to go.

As he hurried into the conference room now, he couldn't help but wish he was still back at the hotel with Remy. Anywhere, really, where he wouldn't have an entire room of people—friends—staring at him. It was embarrassing the way that all eyes went to him. Kind of insulting, too, really, as they gaped at him. It didn't help matters at all when Penelope gave a low whistle and called out "Well look at you, Reid! Who knew jeans could look so good?"

"Looks like someone got pulled away from a date." David teased him.

Spencer felt his cheeks heat and tried to avoid looking at them all as he dropped down into his chair. His blush only made them laugh even more. "A date?" Emily asked, her tone laughing. "At five in the morning?"

"Four. I called an hour ago, remember?" JJ added in. She laughed at the glare that Spencer leveled her way.

Derek reached over and clapped a hand on Spencer's shoulder. "Way to go, pretty boy. Who's the lucky girl? She someone we know?"

Thank God for little favors. The friendly interrogation was cut off by Aaron's appearance in the room. All teasing stopped then and the group turned their attention to the case being laid out for them. Spencer tried to make himself focus only on the case and not on anything else. Not on the slight ache in his wrists or hips. Definitely not on the sore feeling that flared up every time he shifted around in his seat. He also fought to keep his hands in his lap and avoid his usual expressive gestures. Lifting his hands up in this jacket would only serve to show off things he didn't want to have to explain. He thought he did a pretty good job at keeping it all hidden, too. But he was so caught up in trying to be careful that he missed one set of eyes that never seemed to quite leave him.

But when the briefing was done and they were all told to head to the jet, Spencer found himself waylaid before he could leave the room. Derek took hold of his arm as he rose. "Stay a second, Reid."

Spencer turned curiously towards his friends. He gestured over his shoulder towards the door with one hand. "Is it important? I need to go change into work clothes before we head to the jet."

"It's important." Derek let go of him, but he didn't step back, instead staying right at Spencer's side. He looked around the room and Spencer realized that the man was making sure there was no one left in here with them. Uh-oh. Whatever this was, it must be important. Spencer straightened up a little and turned his full attention to Derek now, the need to go change completely forgotten in the face of his worry for his best friend. Had something happened to him? Was there something wrong? "Are you okay, Morgan?"

Derek brought his eyes back to Spencer now that he was sure that the room was empty. When he spoke, his voice was low and full of worry. "That's what I wanted to ask you. Are you all right, Reid?"

"Yes, of course." Spencer replied automatically. Why wouldn't he be? He tried to think of what he might've done that would worry the man and the only thing he could think of were his blushes while they'd been teasing him. But Derek knew him well enough to know that he blushed easily. So what was it that had him worried? "Why do you ask?"

"I saw your wrists, kid."

Just five words and everything inside of Spencer went utterly still. The first thing to race through him was panic. All this time, all these years at the Bureau, and he'd never ended up with a mark that he couldn't explain away or hide. This was the first time he'd really been caught out and hadn't had a story already prepared to help him cover it up. All he could come up with right now was "It's not what you think." And even as he said them, he knew how weak those words sounded.

Derek reached out, catching Spencer's arm in his and lifting it up just enough that the sleeve drew back and his wrist was exposed. He held it up between them and asked "What explanation do you have, then?"

Jerking his hand free, Spencer took a step back, needing that little bit of space between them. The slightly peaceful feeling he'd still been carrying with him from his time with Remy was rapidly fading away under the landslide of emotions Derek was stirring up here. One of the stronger emotions that came through was defensiveness that wasn't typical for him. "It's nothing, Morgan. I'm fine. Just leave it alone, okay?"

His defensiveness seemed to only worry Derek even more. Spencer knew it, could see it, and yet he couldn't' stop it. He wrapped his arms around his waist and drew back a little bit more. Derek was looking at him with even more worry now. Spencer knew that he was going to have to come up with something to say or some way to get himself out of this before Derek took it too far. But fate had something else in mind. Derek's whole body suddenly went taunt. His eyes narrowed briefly before going wide in surprise. Spencer watched him, unsure what the hell was going on. He didn't have to wonder for long. Derek reached out and hooked a finger on Spencer's scarf, tugging it down just enough that his neck was exposed. "Fine, huh?"

This time Spencer took an even bigger step backwards so that now there was a good couple feet between them. His heart felt like it was racing in his chest. Shit! Shit, shit, shit! What was he going to do now? Derek had seen the bruises on his wrists and now his neck too. It wasn't hard to see what he was thinking now, either. There was worry and pity in his eyes and a fierceness that Spencer always associated with the man's protective side. This was getting out of control, fast. "Morgan—Derek—it's not what it looks like. Really, it's not."

"It's okay, kid." Derek held his hands out on either side of him in a placating sort of way. "Everything's all right."

Oh, Goddammit. It was written right there in Derek's eyes. He believed Spencer had been assaulted. And why shouldn't he? He's seen the bruises on my wrist and the ones on my neck. What other conclusion would he draw? This whole crappy situation left Spencer with only two options. One, he could walk away and leave Derek thinking that he'd been assaulted. Or, two, he could do the one thing he absolutely didn't want to do and he could tell the man just how consensual it had been. Neither option was appealing. Still, he had no real choice. There was only one way to do this. "I wasn't assaulted." He blurted the words out, hoping they would be easier to say if he just said them quickly and got it over with. "It was consensual. I asked for it."

The worry in Derek's eyes didn't go away. If anything, it grew stronger. "Spencer," The use of his first name showed just exactly how worried Derek really was. "No matter what you did, it wasn't your fault. You know that. You've worked this job long enough to know that no one in these situations was 'asking for it'."

Well, hell, he wasn't making this easy, was he? Spencer blew out a breath and looked up at the ceiling so that he wouldn't have to meet Derek's eyes. There was no way he could look right at him as he said this. He was already blushing so bad it felt like his face was on fire. "No, Morgan, you're not understanding. I literally asked for it. I went out to a club looking for it."

"Oh."

Just one word, yet with so many emotions in it. In it, Spencer heard countless things he'd never wanted to hear from his best friend, and he ached for the part of their friendship that was about to change. Something like this always changes things even when people tried to claim it won't. Some would just walk away. Some, like he had a feeling Derek would, asked questions in an effort to understand. Yet even the ones who asked, they never understood, not really. How could they? If it wasn't something a person needed, how could they hope to understand what it was that drove someone else to need it? They'd never understand how the sight of those marks gave Spencer a small thrill. How he'd reach out and touch them, run his fingers over them, or even press in to bring that ache to life. They wouldn't understand how he liked even the feeling of pain when he'd shift in his seat.

It wasn't just that he enjoyed the pain, though he did in this context. It's the memories that the pain invokes. It reminds him for just that moment that he'd been owned, controlled. And, this time around, it reminds him of the care he received afterwards from Remy. A care he hadn't even known he'd craved.

Spencer had been lost in his thoughts, trying to figure out a way to explain all this, that when Derek spoke again, it actually startled Spencer a little. "Why would you want someone to hurt you?"

That was always a question people asked. Spencer curled his hands into fists and shoved them down into his pockets. Why had this been so much easier to talk about with Remy earlier, yet it left him feeling tongue-tied now? Because Remy understands. He likes the same thing, just on the opposite end his mind supplied. But being a profiler should give Derek a little more understanding than most, right? "You know about paraphilia and how it works. Everyone has their own kink, even if they don't always realize it. This…this is just mine."

"Pain?"

The word was sharp and it made Spencer flinch. He dropped his eyes, looking to the floor this time, still trying to avoid looking at Derek at all costs. I don't want to be doing this. I don't want to be having this talk right now. "One of them, yes."

Derek's voice tightened a little. "So you just went out and picked up someone at a club and just let them hurt you? Reid…did you stop to think about how dangerous that is? Whoever this person is, they could've hurt you. They could've killed you. From the looks of it, they had their hands on your neck."

"He didn't do anything I didn't want him to." Spencer said. And with that, he gave away his second secret, another one that no one had known. All by a slip of the pronoun.

To his surprise, Derek didn't even focus on that. He glossed over that like it was no big deal. "Choking games are dangerous, Reid. I can't believe you'd let some stranger do that to you. I can't believe you'd let anyone do that to you. How could you let someone hurt you that way? Seeing the shit we see every day, seeing how it can all go wrong, all the perverts out there who get off on bringing people pain, how could you just go out and hunt for something like that?"

The words felt as sharp as knives and Spencer swore he was bleeding inside. It never got any easier to hear this speech from people. He'd heard it before, in so many different forms. He'd been called so many names over the years. Freak. Pervert. Sick. Twisted. Wrong. Hearing it from the man who was supposed to be his best friend, it just made it hurt all the more, and it brought his defensiveness back out tenfold. With it came the shame. Damn him! What right did he have to stand there and make Spencer feel ashamed? Yet that's what he was doing.

Hurt and just a little bit angry, Spencer straightened himself up and he lifted his eyes for the first time and let them lock on Derek. He let his anger seep out into his words, giving him a courage he might not have otherwise had. "My sex life is my own business." He snapped, glaring at him. "I don't have to sit here and justify it to you, Morgan. The only people who need worry about my sexual activities, aside from myself, are the people I choose to sleep with, and I don't recall making that offer to you. Now, we've got a job to do. Let's go before we're late." And with that pronouncement, Spencer spun on his heel and marched off, temper carrying him away from his gaping friend.

Anyone interested in any more glimpses at this? I've got a few ideas planned to do more stories, more shorts, if you think you'd be interested in reading. Let me know!