Title: Unspoken

Pairing: Reid/J.J.

Rated: NC17 for smut value

By: Jen

The warmth on his arm reminded him that he wasn't alone in his own bed. The smell of jasmine hung in his nostrils, and even before he opened his eyes he could see the blond silk resting inches from his face. He slid his hand around her waist, pulling her closer to him, causing her to stir for only a moment. She whimpered, and snuggled against his chest. Taking a last deep breath he opened his eyes. Confirming it wasn't a dream, he looked skyward.

His ceiling was white cottage cheese, he had once calculated the number of bumps on it using a one foot square for estimation, but that was before her. Before her, when he couldn't sleep. Before her, when nightmares kept him out of bed for days after each case. Not now, now, he slid under the covers as soon he could upon returning from cases that took them away from home for days at a time. Now, he dreamed of her kisses, her skin, her giggle as his hand slid over her stomach.

Too long his life had been empty, though he never saw it until she filled the void. Too long he had envied Morgan's ability to entice the opposite sex until she enticed him. Too long he had watched her and wished, and done nothing. Too long, he had gone without knowing the true pleasure of a woman he loved. Too long since the last time she slept in his arms.

Silently he cursed having to leave her in a few hours, knowing she would not be waiting for him when he got home. She stirred again mumbling something into his chest before she turned away from him. He curled to her back and kissed her shoulder then her neck. She mumbled again, and leaned her head back against him. He kissed her forehead, and her eyes fluttered open, blue beneath black lashes.

She smiled, and turned back to face him. He took her mouth with his own, softly, then slowly growing harder with urgency. His fingers gently pressed her face up to meet his, his teeth catching lightly on her bottom lip. She whimpered in pleasure, sliding on top of him. He stared into her eyes as she positioned herself over his ready manhood. As he entered her, her head fell back, and she bit her lower lip, her hands digging into his chest. She slumped over him, her hair tickling his face, and kissed him while he began to thrust into her.

Leaning back, her hands resting on her breasts, whimpering quietly with each thrust, she smiled at his stare. He leaned up and kissed her once more, his hands wrapping around her pulling her close. Her head leaned over his arm; his teeth grazed her shoulder as she cried out in pleasure. Their bodies moved in rhythm, her hips working on top of his, his arms tensing around her, his tongue sliding gently across her collarbone.

He rolled over her, pressing her into the pillows, pushing deeper with each thrust. Her legs moved around his waist, his hands held her own above her head. Soon, she was reaching her climax, and her spasms bought him to his own. He thrust within her several times before resting his body on hers, their foreheads touching. He kissed her gently, and slowly, he moved to her side as their breaths slowed. He felt her slide into the crook of his arm, closed it around her and kissed her forehead again.

Hours later he awoke, and carefully slid out from under her. He watched her sleep as he knotted his tie, and whispered to her sleeping form what he could not say to her before quietly slipping out the door.

Sitting at his desk, Dr. Spencer Reid stared at Jennifer Jareau across the bullpen, on the phone, her form now hidden under a sensible suit. He wondered if there would ever be more than silent love making upon the arrival home from emotionally draining cases. He wondered if he would ever tell her that he loved her when she could hear him. He wondered if she even loved him, or just needed him. Once, after a long case, they had talked about nightmares. They had shared a cab, several drinks, and then one secret sexual encounter. Months had passed before she showed up at his door after leaving Elle in the hospital. He stood in his doorway, as she wordlessly slipped past him and into his room. Now, after every case that took them away from home, she shared his bed for one night they never acknowledged with words.

She caught him looking at her and smiled, her hand resting on her shoulder still stinging from the heat of his bite hours before. She had to break eye contact to maintain her composure. He had told her he loved her this morning, but only because he thought she couldn't hear him. After he reset the alarm for her and slipped out the door, she had laid in his bed counting bumps on the ceiling trying to get her mind off the fact that she loved him too. Now he was staring at her, and all she could see was his naked form on top of her own staring into her eyes as he thrust within her. He always made her feel like she was the only thing in the world when he looked at her, an disquieting ability unique to the deepness of his eyes. Regaining her calm, she ended her conversation and walked towards her office.

"J.J. we have a case in Boston," Hotch said handing her a file as he walked by. She looked back at Spencer who had heard and looked up. A case that would bring them away from this place that made her wish she was still in his arms. It was a needed distraction from him, distraction from the non-existence of their relationship, another reason to crawl into his bed instead of her own upon their return. Soon enough, she thought, this case will be over, and we will be waiting for a cab.

Spencer watched as she walked into her office to prepare the files for the team. He wondered what she had been thinking, wondered if he could resist the urge to follow her in there and say something. He wondered what words would even be appropriate in the face of so much left unspoken. Most of all, he wondered if the night before would be enough to get him through until they returned from Boston.