CM Fic: Building a Home (Chapter 2/8)
Title: Building a Home (Part 2/8)
Rating: T
Pairings: Reid/Hotch (established relationship)
Characters (entire story): Reid, Hotch, Jack, Jessica, Garcia, Morgan, Prentiss, Rossi, and JJ
Characters (this part): Reid, Hotch, and Jack
Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.
Word Count (this part): 3,460
Summary (entire story): Aaron and Jack move in with Spencer when renovations drive them out of their new house. Will it be a disaster…or a beginning?
Summary (this chapter): Aaron frets and figures a few things out during the first awkward night and morning that he, Jack, and Spencer live under one roof.
Part 1
“Wherever thou art, that is home.” - Emily Dickinson
Aaron shifted his shoulders awkwardly as he struggled to keep his duffle bag from sliding off his shoulder and adding even more pressure to his arm while trying to keep two large pizza boxes lying flat using only one hand and his hip. The other hand was busy holding Jack’s, guiding him up the stairs to Spencer’s (and theirs too, for now) apartment. By the time they finally reached the right floor the arm balancing the pizzas was sore, Jack grip on his hand was so tight it was starting to cut off his circulation, and Aaron was completely frazzled.
The duffle strap fell to his elbow yet again and he almost dropped the food. Suppressing a frustrated grunt, Aaron tried to look on the bright side: at least this was the only load they needed to carry that night. At least he’d have Spencer’s help this weekend when he brought over everything else they’d need during their stay. At least Jack was big enough to carry his own overnight supplies in his backpack. At least when he went to bed that night he’d have Spencer there with him to massage his sore muscles.
“Here we are,” Aaron told Jack, mindful to keep his tone light and bright as he brought them to a stop in front of Spencer’s (their; he needed to start thinking of it as their) door.
He bit back a sigh when Jack just clutched his hand even tighter in response. This was all his fault - a kind of karmic punishment for coining the term ‘The Reid Effect’ after one hapless (but, in his defense, very funny) encounter Spencer had with a group of snotty little urchins and their Cujo-esque dog. True, he hadn’t expected it to catch on with the rest of the team, but he also hadn’t put a stop to it once he found out it had become a recurring joke. Unfortunately, he never realized how much Spencer had taken it to heart until after they started dating.
It made Aaron want to smack himself every time he thought about it. Under different circumstances Spencer would have understood that it’s normal for a child who’s recently lost one parent to cling to the one he has left. Hell, he’d have been lecturing Aaron on how all the pep talks in the world wouldn’t stop a child from shying away from an adult he barely knew after George Foyet had so cruelly betrayed his and his mother’s trust. Thanks to one stupid joke, however, none of that rationality had been there three months earlier when Aaron had reintroduced him to Jack as his boyfriend: when Jack had shied away from him and clung to Aaron, Spencer had been convinced it was because he - like all other children - hated his guts.
Jack had stopped being so clingy with Aaron in Spencer’s presence soon enough, but sadly that did little to change things between the little boy and his father’s boyfriend. Spencer was too afraid of doing or saying something to make Jack hate him more to reach out without Jack’s expressed permission and Jack was too shy around this almost-stranger who was clearly important to his dad to give him that permission until Spencer reached out more. Now they were stuck in vicious pattern of skirting around each other, stealing furtive glances, and making the occasional attempt at communication, which always seemed to end with Spencer babbling nervously while Jack stared until the poor young man clammed up in embarrassment. It pained Aaron to watch this and know there was nothing more he could do to help until the two of them helped themselves.
Maybe the holes in his floor were actually a blessing in disguise. Maybe living together would help Spencer and Jack get comfortable enough around each other to finally start building a real connection. He could hope, right?
“Hey, buddy,” said Aaron as gently as someone whose arm was killing him could. “Daddy’s hands are a little full here. Can you knock on the door?”
Aaron was sure Spencer wouldn’t hear Jack’s soft, hesitant knock - he’d barely heard it himself - but a few seconds later the door flew open. “Hi,” said Spencer quickly and a bit too cheerful, clearly in Anxious Spencer mode. He looked down at Jack, swallowed hard and flashed the kind of smile one might have when attempting to reason with a knife-wielding maniac. “Um, hello Jack. Why - why don’t you come in?”
“Thanks,” smiled Aaron, sending his best encouraging look Spencer’s way. He shut the door behind him with his foot and turned around just in time to see Spencer and Jack’s eyes meet. He held his breath, hoping, praying; but all hopes deflated as he watched the two people he loved most in the world look away from each other and stare timidly at different parts of the floor. Suppressing another sigh, he went on: “We should eat before the food gets cold. Jack, why don’t you go wash your hands?”
“Okay, Daddy,” said Jack quietly. He glanced around and bit his lower lip. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“End of the hallway,” supplied Spencer, trying to sound casual and failing miserably.
Jack murmured a quiet “thanks” and hurried off. Spencer stared after him for a second before turning to Aaron with a guilty look on his face, like he thought he’d driven the boy away or something. “I - uh, I,” he stammered.
“I’ll set the table,” offered Aaron as he set the pizzas down on the table, cutting off the apology Spencer was about to make for whatever he’d imagined he’d done.
Spencer bit his lip, his eyes turning downward again where they locked onto Aaron’s duffle. “I’ll take this to the bedroom,” he offered, snatching it off his lover’s arm before Aaron could say anything and sprinting off to what was now their room.
Aaron shook his head wearily. ‘It’s only been a few minutes,’ he reminded himself as he made his way to the cupboard he was pretty sure Spencer kept all of his dinnerware in. He opened the door and found himself staring dumbstruck at what was in there. One side of the bottom shelf had a stack of four blue-tinted opaque plastic dishes, the kind that supermarkets generally marketed as a picnicker or tailgater’s cheap green alternative to disposable plates, and four plastic bowls with the same color and texture of the plates. A half-empty pack of off-brand paper napkins, a few mismatched mugs that had obviously been picked up from clearance shelves, garage sales, and rummage sales, and a stack of four tall, fat aqua blue plastic cups that were so old and well-used that the lips of each one of them was either chipped in a couple of areas or peeling off altogether resided on the other side. The other shelves were completely bare. Workable enough for a bachelor who subsisted largely on take-out he could eat from a carton, but the three of them were going to constantly be doing dishes.
He made a mental note to bring over some of his dinnerware and glasses tomorrow and went about setting the table.
There was a startled squeak coming from the vicinity of the hallway, letting Aaron know Jack and Spencer had probably run into each other there. He peered around the corner to see his son and lover standing there with the expressions and defensive postures that a camper might have if he awoke in the middle of the night to find a raccoon in his tent. They were actually looking at each other instead of the floor, which wasn’t exactly a vast improvement but at the moment he’d take what he could get.
“Hey guys,” he called to them. “Everything’s just about ready out here. Jack, why don’t you find a place to put your backpack while I get everyone’s drinks around?”
Jack’s eyes flickered around uncertainly, as if he thought the apartment was a minefield and he’d trigger an explosion if he set his bag down in the wrong place. An extreme fatigue started to penetrate Aaron’s bones; but then Spencer surprised all three of them by coughing and clearing his throat. “Ah, you can put it in the closet over there if you want,” he said quickly, pointing toward the door by the entrance that Aaron knew opened to a walk-in closet he used for coats and storage.
Jack stayed rooted in his spot until Aaron gave him a reassuring smile and took his hand. “Right this way,” he gently urged his son.
“I, uh, I cleared it out for you to use,” Spencer awkwardly informed them as Aaron pushed in the door.
Aaron opened his mouth to tell Spencer how thoughtful that was and how he didn’t have to do that. Before he could say a word, however, Jack finally spoke up. “Is this going to be my room?” he asked, eying the empty closet thoughtfully.
“What?” Spencer looked shocked and a little horrified. Aaron couldn’t entirely blame him - it was a good size for a closet but it definitely wasn’t one of those walk-ins that inspired people to exclaim ‘it could be a bedroom!’ “No, I - uh - no, I’m - you don’t have to stay in there.”
“You’re going to sleep on the couch tonight, buddy,” Aaron told Jack. “Tomorrow we can figure out where’s the best place in the living room for your bed. Right now, though” he lowered his voice as if he were about to whisper an important secret, “there are two pizzas on the table that need eating. Is there anyone here who’s going to do that?”
“Yeah!” smiled Jack shyly and hurried over to the table.
“Yeah!” echoed Aaron. He raised his eyebrows expectantly at Spencer. “Uh, yeah,” Spencer chimed in hastily.
His spirit lifting, Aaron chuckled and gave Spencer a peck on the cheek. Spencer turned beet-red and went rigid. “Not here,” he hissed, trying to nod meaningfully toward Jack without being obvious, which only made him look like he had an uncontrollable head tic.
They would have to discuss that later, as Aaron had no intention of refraining from perfectly acceptable demonstrations of physical affection when Jack was around. For now, however, he just steered him to an empty chair before heading into the kitchen. “What does everyone want to drink?” he asked.
Spencer started to stand. “I can -”
“I’m already up,” Aaron assured him firmly. He knew Spencer’s strict sense of propriety would compel him to try to be the perfect host; setting boundaries now would hopefully keep his lover from trying to wait on them hand and foot for the next month (‘at least’). Grabbing the stack of three cups he’d left on the counter, he asked them: “What does everyone want?”
“Soda, please,” said Spencer reluctantly. He stole a quick glance at Jack, who was twisting his napkin in his clenched little fingers. “I - I only have soda and milk - and tap water too, I guess. You…you two can have any of those.”
“Thank you,” said Jack softly. “Can I have some milk please, Daddy?”
“Sure thing, Jack,” smiled Aaron. Jack and Spencer were actually talking to each other! Well, participating in the same stilted conversation might be more accurate, but it was still encouraging: it had been about three minutes and there was still no babbling, no staring, and no humiliated silences. He had high hopes this was a sign that they were ready to reach out to each other.
The thought put him in a very good mood - good enough, in fact, that when he opened the refrigerator door and got a look inside all he did was shake his head lovingly. “Sweetheart,” he called to Spencer, “you didn’t have to clear out the fridge too.”
Spencer looked confused. “I didn’t.”
Aaron froze. “But there’s only a gallon of milk, a two-liter of Pepsi,” he opened the butter compartment in the door, “and a half-eaten Snickers bar in here.”
“There’s a Snickers bar in there?” asked Spencer, genuinely surprised.
Aaron’s jaw clenched as his good mood swiftly gave way to concern, though he did manage to keep smiling. Jeez, how many times had he been over to that apartment? How had he missed the positively Dickensian nature of Spencer’s fridge? “We’ll go grocery shopping tomorrow,” he announced, and immediately regretted it when Spencer’s face fell. He almost apologized but knew doing so would only embarrass his lover further.
Swallowing a discouraged sigh, he handed everyone their drinks and placed two slices on Jack’s plate before taking his seat and helping himself to the food. An awkward silence filled the air as the three of them chewed and Spencer and Jack kept their eyes glued to their plates. Aaron looked back and forth between them, trying to think of anything to say that might help them regain their fragile momentum. “So, Jack,” he tried. “What did you do at school today?”
Jack froze up for a second and then started shredding his napkin - a nervous habit he’d picked up since Haley died. “Ms. Armstrong read us Paul Revere’s Ride,” he answered quietly.
“Oh, the poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow?” spoke up Spencer excitedly. “Did you know it was written in 1860 and published in 1861? The American Civil War was looming at that time and Longfellow meant his poem to be a call to action for the Northerners, a way to urge them to be courageous and proactive while also reminding everyone that they had a common history. It’s actually full of historical inaccuracies: for example, there were in fact two other riders - William Dawes and Dr. Samuel Prescott - besides Revere that night; and Prescott was the only one who made it to Concord to warn the militia. Revere was captured by British soldiers who took away his horse! A better - certainly a more accurate - account of Paul Revere is…”
His voice trailed off when he finally noticed that Jack staring at him with those solemn, dark eyes. “Never mind,” he mumbled, mortified, as his cheeks turned bright red.
Aaron watched as they looked away from each other once more and bit back yet another sigh. One step forward, two steps back. And he had no idea how to help them break the pattern.
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Later that night, Aaron was in bed writing out two lists when a pajama-clad Spencer tiptoed into the room. “I think he’s still sleeping,” the young man whispered.
Aaron smiled. “You don’t need to whisper,” he informed Spencer, amusedly exasperated. “He doesn’t have super hearing.”
“Okay,” nodded Spencer just a little lit louder.
The young man anxiously glanced over his shoulder, as if expecting Jack to barge in at any second. Aaron probably would have had the same expression on his own face if his son was knocking on the door while they were naked in the throes of passion. “Spencer, relax,” he said with a laugh. He held out a hand and gave him a hopeful look. “Come to bed. Please?”
With one last glance at the door, Spencer slunk over to the bed and lay down, careful not to make any physical contact with his boyfriend. Aaron smirked wryly before putting an arm around him and pulling him close. Spencer tensed for a few long moments before he could make himself relax. “What are you writing?” he wanted to know.
“Just a couple of lists for tomorrow,” Aaron told him. “Everything we’ll need from the house and a grocery list. We can probably cross off most of the grocery list when we bring over all the food from the house, and whatever’s left we’ll buy sometime this weekend.”
Spencer read them over and winced, feeling very inadequate. “I’m sorry,” he said in a small voice. “You shouldn’t have to bring over all this extra stuff or stock my kitchen. I can’t believe I’m so…”
Aaron placed a finger on Spencer’s lips. “Unless the next thing out of your mouth is something along the lines of ‘generous’, ‘kind’, or ‘thoughtful’ I don’t want to hear it,” he said, firm but gentle. Emotion flickered in Spencer’s eyes; Aaron moved the finger and placed a gentle kiss on each eyelid. “Most people aren’t ready to take on two long-term guests at a moment’s notice - I know I wouldn’t have been.” Holding up the paper, he went on: “Spencer, nothing on these lists would do me or my son any good if the kindest, most generous, and” - he stole another kiss - “most beautiful man I’ve ever met hadn’t given us a place to stay.”
“I love you,” murmured Spencer, burying his nose in his lover’s neck.
Aaron felt a wave of contentment wash over him as he imagined going to sleep like this every night. He could get used to this…. “I love you too.”
“And I’m going to try harder with Jack - I promise.”
“I appreciate that,” Aaron told him warmly. He kissed Spencer one more time, set his lists aside, and turned off the lap. “Get some sleep, sweetheart. Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day.”
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‘The three of us should make dinner together tonight,’ decided Aaron the next morning, yawning and stretching as he made his way to the small apartment’s living room. ‘Maybe Spencer and Jack will start to relax around each other if they work on something together. God, I hope -’
He stopped short when he saw Spencer. Instead of brewing up coffee he’d declared he needed when he woke up that morning, his lover was peering into the walk-in closet through the crack made by the barely-open door. “Spencer?” asked Aaron, perplexed.
Spencer silently shushed him and beckoned for him to come over. Tentatively complying, Aaron peeked in and blinked, bemused when he saw Jack wrapped up in his fuzzy Bugs Bunny blanket, asleep in there on the floor. He cocked a questioning eyebrow at Spencer, who pulled him into the kitchen so they could talk without waking up the boy.
“I went to check on him, you know, before I made the coffee but he wasn’t - well, he wasn’t anywhere I could see,” explained Spencer, his words coming out a bit jumbled. He took a deep breath and tried to convince himself it was all right to calm down now. “I was afraid he’d…well, I guess I was starting to…I was about to come and get you when I noticed the closet door was open like that.”
“Sorry he gave you a scare,” said Aaron. “I’ll talk to him about it today.”
“Oh, don’t do that,” Spencer waved off the apology. “He didn’t do it on purpose. I think he was just….” He glanced at the closet, considering. “I know it’s not exactly an ideal bedroom; but it’s got an overhead light and enough room for a roll-away bed, and he’ll be able to see the nightlight in the living room if we leave the door cracked. I know you might need to use the closet for storage but…maybe Jack will feel more comfortable here if he has a space that’s just his, you know?”
Aaron wrapped his arms around Spencer. “There’s probably room for his bean bag chair too, and we can use those built-in shelves in there for some of his books and toys,” he said, pressing a kiss against his lover’s forehead. “That’s a wonderful idea, Spencer. I think Jack will like that a lot.”
“Really?” asked Spencer hopefully, beaming.
“Yes,” confirmed Aaron. He kissed him again because, really, what choice did he have when Spencer was standing there looking all happy and beautiful? “Now, I was thinking the three of us could go out for some breakfast before we headed over to the house. Are you still going to make some coffee here or are you going to wait until we get to the restaurant?”
“Oh, I forgot about the coffee!” he burst out, his hands flying to coffee maker on the counter. “Ah, no, I’ll need a cup before then. Why don’t you wake up Jack while I make us up a pot…”
Aaron felt like a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders as he headed over to his son’s new bedroom. The first thing Spencer had done that morning was go check on Jack. He’d understood why Jack was sleeping in the closet, understood what Jack needed, and had been too relieved to find him to be upset with the boy for scaring him. Hell, he’d been so busy thinking about what was best for Jack that he’d forgotten about coffee. Maybe he couldn’t find a way to connect with Jack just yet, but Spencer did care about his son. And as long as they had that, Aaron knew the rest would come in its own time.
To be continued in PART 3