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wrenreid · 1 year

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Hands-on Learning

synopsis: Spencer Reid’s best friend pays him a visit in DC. She meets his coworkers and they spend quality time together while she’s in town. But their friendly dynamic changes with he asks her a question she was not expecting. (season 2 glasses reid)

word count: 4k

content: 18+ MDNI, oral (f receive), penetration

Spencer has been begging me to come visit him again since the last time I was in D.C. six months ago. And I won't admit it to him, but I've been dying to see him again so much it physically pains me. Going six months without seeing your best friend is the worst feeling in the world, but I'd take the emotional turmoil any day because it's for him.

And I suppose he's worth sitting on this plane, lodged between a sleeping old woman and a man who has gotten up to pee ten times since take off. I must really love him because I'm only an hour into this five hour flight.

Spencer and I met when we were 18. I'd just started my freshman year at CalTech and was in an advanced class with a bunch of 22 year olds. My eye caught his immediately. He was the only person my age in the lecture hall.

I sat next to him and told him my name. I knew I had to make him my friend because he was the only other freshman in the class.

Or so I thought. I didn't know until a month into our friendship that he was indeed not a freshman, and he was taking the class for fun while he worked on his second PhD. A small part of me hated him that instant, but I had already fallen into the Spencer Reid charm. I couldn't get rid of him, no matter how hard I tried (which was not very hard at all.)

We became close pretty fast. Almost every moment we weren't in separate classes, we were together. I was pretty much his only friend and he was the first person I met in uni, and probably the only one to accept me a hundred percent as I was. Being so far from home was hard, and he made it worth it.

Usually we'd do homework or watch scary movies in his single dorm room, which I totally took advantage of. I'd spend the night with him instead of my over-sharing roommate who thought I needed to know every detail about her and her long relationship with her boyfriend Kyle, specifically the phone sex. TMI.

My other friends would joke about how we were in love, but the truth is, we weren't. Not in that way at least. He was my best friend, and I was his. We were there for every big moment in each other's lives.

Well, not every big moment. Spencer was not invited when I finally lost my virginity during spring break of freshman year. But he was there when the guy I'd hooked up with broke my heart. And he bought me ice cream and told me stupid facts until my lips broke into a smile.

I was there when he got his second and third PhDs far quicker than any graduate student should. And he was there when I graduated with my masters in psychology and cognitive science.

"You're a nerd too," Spencer said, his voice teasing as he bumped my shoulder. "You can admit it now that we're done with this place."

I told him to shut up, but a wide grin was plastered on my face. We'd made it through the highs and lows of college together.

However, that grin was soon replaced with tears. Spencer had gotten a job offer with the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia. He was going to the academy, and I was starting my research job. He was going to the east coast, and I was staying in California.

"You're leaving me," I said through tears, knowing me guilt tripping him was wrong. But I needed him to stay.

"I'm leaving California, not you," he said, his eyebrows knit together with worry. I could tell it was eating up at him, but I couldn't stop hating the situation. Losing my best friend was the absolute last thing I wanted.

The day he left, I drove him to the Las Vegas airport after he said goodbye to his mom. I didn't help him get his bags, instead I stood there moping. As I watched my best friend walk away, I realized I needed to be happy for him. He was excited about this opportunity, and my bitchiness was ruining that for him.

It wasn't romantic movie-esk the way I ran after him. It was more of an anxiety filled scene where snot ran down my face as I chased him down. Honestly, I probably looked like a stalker.

"Spencer," I breathed out, looking up at him.

He smiled softly. "I knew you wouldn't let me leave without giving me a proper goodbye," he teased.

I shouldn't have taught him teasing and sarcasm. It's bitten me in the ass so many times.

I wrapped my arms around him, ignoring his comment. My face pressed against his chest as his arms held me close. My eyes were closed and I steadied my breathing. Even though he was going what seemed like a million miles away, he'd always be my best friend.

And that's stayed true even three years later. We've kicked this long distance shit in the ass. Of course, we don't talk as much as we'd like, but we still talk. And whenever he can, he visits me in LA after seeing his mom, or I take a visit to the nation's capital just to see my favorite FBI agent.

——

"Every time I see you, you look different," I say with a chuckle as Spencer helps me get my bags into his guest room.

"Is that a bad thing?" He questions, eyebrows furrowed.

"Take it as you will," I say, plopping down on his couch.

He joins me shortly after. He really does look different. He's gained some weight, changed his style up just a little, his hair is parted at the side almost neatly, and he's finally wearing glasses again. Except these ones are far different from the ones he wore in college. These ones are kind of hot, but I won't tell him that because I can't feed the genius's ego any more.

"So," I say, wiggling my eyebrows. "Tell me about your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend," Spencer says, his cheeks already turning pink.

I roll my eyes. "Tomato, tomahto."

"Y/n," he warns.

"Fine, fine. Topic for another time. Don't forget, I'm here all week, Dr. Reid," I flash him a grin.

He sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes.

"You know you've missed me," I say, leaning my head on his shoulder.

He shakes his head, but a small smile creeps up onto his lips. He's missed me. But rather than admitting that he asks, "What would you like to do tonight?"

"Food. What's the best restaurant in the city?"

"The best or my favorite?" He asks. "Because they're different."

"Your favorite," I request, a soft smile on my face.

Spencer nods. "Alright. I'll let you nap off the plane drowsiness, then we'll have dinner."

The smile on my face grows wider. He knows me so well.

After my way-longer-than-I-intended nap, we get ready for dinner. I don't dress up fancy because Spencer has seen me at my worst, drunk, crying, and throwing up.

That was the one time I've ever seen him drink. I drug him to a party that we both ended up hating. We left early and instead bought our own liquor. He'd just turned 21, and I used that to my advantage.

Spencer and I ended up drunk in his dorm room. Surprisingly, he handled his alcohol much better than I did. I got wasted and threw up in his sink before making it to his toilet to repeat the action. He held my hair back as tears streamed down my face from the burning in my throat. Then, he threw up from the sight of me vomiting. It was not our finest moment.

"Ready to go?" Spencer asks, coming into the restroom where I'm touching up my makeup.

"Sure am, doc."

The dinner is amazing. He catches me up on all things BAU cases before asking me how my promotion has been, which is, in simple words, pretty damn great.

——

"Oh you're not Spencer," says a way too handsome black man as I open the apartment door.

"Nope. I'd like to think I'm prettier," I joke.

"Yes, you are," he flashes me a smile.

The footsteps behind me halt. "Don't even think about it, Morgan," Spencer says, a warning tone present in his voice.

The man in front of me holds his hands up in defense, the charming smile still on his face.

"This is Morgan? You did not describe him this hot," I turn to my best friend.

He glares at me. "You also don't even think about it."

I laugh softly and offer my hand out to Derek.

"Y/n. Nice to finally meet you."

His firm grip shakes my hand. "So you're the competition I have as Reid's best friend."

"In the flesh," I grin. "And it's no competition. I've got years on you."

"Ooh she's bold. I like her," he says.

I haven't had the opportunity to meet all of Spencer's coworkers because of both of our busy schedules and us making sure to spend every second together while I visit. I've met his boss one time and friend JJ. I liked them. I know enough about everyone from Spencer's stories to know that he's in good hands.

"Did you need something?" Spencer asks his friend.

"Oh right. Yeah I was just going to see if you wanted to come out with us, but I see you are occupied," Morgan says, looking to me.

"Go out where?" I ask, not letting Spencer respond.

"Bar. To drink and play games."

"That sounds fun! We'll be there," I say.

Spencer fake coughs behind me, and I turn to my best friend. He gives me a look.

"C'mon, Spence. It'll be fun. I want to get to know your team."

He can't say no to me. "Fine. But let's not stay out too long, okay? You know you can't handle your alcohol."

"Hey, I've grown up since college," I chuckle.

——

“Have you two ever...?" Spencer's gorgeous dark haired friend asks me as she takes a swig from her glass. She cuts her eyes to Spencer, then back to me.

He's currently at the bar with Morgan who's attempting to flirt with the pretty bartender.

"What? No! God no," I laugh, shaking my head.

"Hm," Emily hums. "I just thought I sensed something."

"Nope. He's my best friend. Why mess with that?" I smile softly.

"So you've thought about it?" She's nosy. I can't blame her, I am too.

"No," I answer.

That's the first lie I've told to Spencer's friends. Of course I've thought about it. I don't think anyone has been friends with an attractive person without thinking about what would happen if the relationship dynamic changed. My best friend's kind of hot. I know that. Before we were close, I debated on asking him out. But we're just friends. We're best friends. And nothing is going to change that.

I get to know Spencer's friends a little more, get slightly tipsy, and start a game of darts with Morgan.

After he beats me, not by much I'd like to add, we're just about to start a rematch, but a hand touches my back lightly. I turn around to face Spencer, and a soft smile creeps up onto my lips.

"What's up?" I ask.

"Can we head back? It's getting late," he asks, checking his watch.

I nod, brushing my hair behind my face. "Sure, but tell Morgan I totally could've beaten him in a rematch."

Spencer laughs softly. "She could've," he says to Derek behind me who rolls his dark brown eyes.

"Getting old, doc?" I ask Spencer as we walk to his car. He's 99% sober, so he drives us back to his apartment.

I sit in the passenger's seat, hands folded in my lap. My eyes are on him.

"Hm?"

"Why'd we leave so early?"

"10:30 is when the guys in the bar start getting drunker and handsy. I didn't want you to get dragged into some asshole's grasp while dancing," he explains.

"Oh," I nod. "I can handle myself, you know that right? Just because you're a big federal agent now doesn't mean I need you to protect me." My voice is thorough, but a small smile is on my lips anyway.

"Just returning the favor, Y/n," Spencer says. He knows I protected him all throughout our shared college days.

My cute going-out clothes have begun to get uncomfortable. I unclasp my bra, keeping my somewhat sexy shirt on and slip it off from underneath the blouse, letting it fall to Spencer's floorboard.

"Much better," I breathe out an exasperated sigh.

He's silent in his seat, eyes on the road. I see his hands grip the steering wheel a little harder.

"I missed you a lot," I say honestly. Usually I'm not one to say what I'm feeling or be mushy gushy, but the two shots of tequila have opened me up.

His eyes flick to me, his lips formed in a soft smile. His face is being lit up by the passing cars' headlights. I can see how sharp his cheekbones are, his jawline. "I thought you were heartless."

"I take back my previous statement."

"I missed you too," Spencer says.

"Of course you did, I'm a delight," I gloat.

The sound of his soft laughter fills the air. It pulls on the strings in my chest.

"How is it possible that I leave in three days already?"

"Shh," he shakes his head, eyes still on the road ahead of him. "Don't mention that right now." Spencer's hand pats my knee before squeezing it comfortingly.

——

"I have a question," Spencer says, coming into his room where I'm currently laying on his bed, reading a book I grabbed off one of his many shelves.

I look up from the page I'm on. He looks nervous, cheeks red, his hands fiddling with themselves.

"Hit me," I say.

He sits down at the edge of the bed. "I don't really know how to ask this... It's a weird question. I don't want to make you uncomfortable, and..."

"Spit it out, Spencer,” I eye him.

"Could you... would you tell me how to please someone. Specifically a woman. During sex."

A huffed laugh releases from me, and his cheeks burn redder. I think I'm blushing too. "What?"

"I'm sorry. That was weird. Forget I said-" he starts softly.

"Have you never...?"

Spencer shakes his head.

I didn't really think he had, but I didn't ever expect him to tell me when or if he lost his virginity anyway. He's reserved, even with me with some things.

"Wait," I sit up straighter. "Is this about your girlfriend?"

"Not my girlfriend," Spencer corrects me. "But yeah. We have a date the night you leave, and I think she's going to expect it. I mean, this is our fourth date."

"Well, if you don't want to have sex, don't have sex," I say sternly.

"It's not that I don't. It's just that I've never done it. I don't know what to do. I've read, and I'm good at anatomy. But what if I'm bad at the physicality of it all?" He presses his lips together, his teeth gnawing on the inside of his bottom lip.

"I don't really know how to explain it," I chuckle nervously. The blood is rushed to my cheeks, they're probably scarlet. "It just kind of happens."

"I shouldn't have asked," Spencer says.

"No, it's just that... like with anything, practice helps people get good sex," I tell him.

He looks up at me, his eyes asking what his lips won't. I feel my heart pounding against my chest, faster than usual.

"Do you want me to... show you?" I ask. He has always preferred hands-on learning.

"Would you?"

I nod slowly, hesitantly.

He moves toward me slowly, hesitantly.

"Kiss me," I tell him, hoping this won't get too weird.

Spencer and I have been best friends for years, we're extremely close, but this may bring us too close. This could ruin everything, but for some reason, I can't stop it.

He presses his lips to mine gently, his hand cupping my face. My eyes flutter closed. I reciprocate the kiss, and it's a lot easier than I imagined. Not that I've entirely imagined it.

My hands trail up his arms slowly. He's gained muscle. I guess that's a part of his FBI agent glow up. His tongue roams my mouth, and I'm pleasantly surprised by how good of a kisser he is.

He pulls away after a few minutes. He's breathing heavy. "Are you sure this is okay?"

I nod, then lean in to kiss him again but he leans back.

"Say it."

"It's okay, Spencer," I tell him. This time he lets me kiss him again.

I lay down, my back against his bed. He hovers above me, his hand on my waist now as he kisses me. He's good at this, and that thought comes to my mind again as his lips suck on my neck.

"Keep doing that," I whine softly.

He obliges and nibbles my skin gently. "Is this okay?" He whispers.

"Mhm," I noise.

I let him take the lead for now, do what he's comfortable with so far. His hand trails up a little further. I tell him he can touch me, and he does, though hesitantly at first. His fingertips graze against my breast before he finally gets comfortable enough to take hold of it through my shirt. He squeezes then pinches my nipple. He knows more than he lead on.

A soft moan releases from my mouth, my back arches just a little. His hand slips beneath my shirt, his warm touch on my belly. Spencer takes ahold of my shirt then lifts it up. I help him take it off me. I'm completely bare hips and above since I wasn't wearing a bra anyway. His eyes widen a little, and he smiles softly.

"Stop staring at me," I laugh a little.

"We're about to have sex and I can't look at you?"

I roll my eyes. "Let's just continue."

Spencer nods. "What do you want me to do?”

"Well, most women like to do other stuff before actually getting into the sex. Penetration alone doesn't do it for most of us," I tell him.

"You included?"

"Me included."

"What do you like?" He asks.

"What are you comfortable with? Do you have any ideas?"

Spencer thinks for a moment. "I want to learn how to-I want to give you... oral."

I burst into a laugh. "Spence, never say oral to a woman. Just say head."

"Head. Noted," he nods.

He's adorable when he's nervous and nerdy. Which is pretty much always.

"Kiss me first. Anywhere," I tell him.

He chooses the soft flesh of my stomach. I smile down at him. I reach down, pushing down my shorts, my underwear too. I'm growing needy.

Spencer slips them the rest of the way down and tosses them down to the ground. After slipping off his glasses, he kisses the inside of my thigh. God, I need him to do something right now.

His big hands push my thighs apart. Then he pauses. The clocks in his brain turn.

I feel like he's just about to call this whole thing off, but then I'm hit with a shock of pleasure. His tongue licks in between my folds.

“You’re really wet,” he says, more like an observation that a tease. Then he attacks my clit with his lips after taking a second to find it. Fuck. He definitely knows more about sex than I was led to believe.

Spencer's fingers leave marks on the inside of my thighs as he grips onto them. His lips suck on my clit, tongue flicking back and forth often too.

Soft moans spill from my lips. I'm trying to be quiet. I shouldn't be enjoying this as much as I am.

The sudden shock of Spencer's mouth removing from my clit makes me whine in protest, but his fingers sliding inside me make up for it.

I groan, my head leaning back into the pillows.

“Do you like this?”

I bite my lip, “Mhm. Curl your fingers.”

He does as he’s told.

When Spencer both fingers my cunt and sucks on my clit, I'm a moaning mess. "Holy fuck, Spencer," I whine. My legs are shaking within minutes, and even though he's still sloppy and new at this, my body loves it. My hands grip into his hair.

"Just like that, Spencer. So good."

A loud moan rings out from me as I finish. I couldn't even warn Spencer before my release pours from me.

My breaths are heavy and loud. Spencer pulls away, looking up at my eyes.

"Was that okay?" His breathing is heavy too.

"No," I say. "Spencer that was fucking amazing. You've seriously never done that before?"

He shakes his head.

"Wow."

"Told you, I'm good at anatomy," he smiles bashfully.

"Take your pants off," I command. "I want you inside of me."

I find a condom in my purse as he shrugs his clothes off. I sit up and find myself staring at his bulge with wide eyes. He's bigger than I expected. Not like huge to where it's unnatural, but big enough that I will probably need a minute to adjust once he's in me.

I tell him to lay down, and he does. He's a good boy. I like it.

I help him get the condom on, then swing a leg over his lap so that I'm straddling him. "Are you ready?" I ask him, my hand holding his face gently.

He takes a second, processing that he’s about to lose his virginity. Probably freaking out a lottle that it’s to me. “Yes ma'am," Spencer nods.

"Just a gentlemen," I grin.

I lower myself onto him, and once he's inside me, I do need a minute to adjust. Moans come from both of us, and I love the sounds we make together.

"Fuck," he groans, his voice raspy. He repeats my name over and over as I start to roll my hips.

"Oh my god." My eyes shut, and I bite my lip to keep me quiet.

"Don't do that," Spencer tells me. "I want to hear it."

I give him what he wants. I bounce up and down on him, his length hitting me in the right spot every time.

Both of our sounds fill the room. Spencer holds my hips down, stopping me.

"Wha-?"

"I want to do it," he says softly. "Please."

"Do what you want with me, doctor," I tell him, nodding.

He flips our positions, and he's on top of me. Spencer's lips crash into mine as he enters me again.

I bite his lip, causing both of us to moan into each other's mouths.

Spencer doesn't last much longer since it's his first time, but I don't even mind. He rubs my clit until I come again, and I feel I'm floating.

We lay on his bed, heavy breaths morphing together. "I think you're going to blow her mind, doctor Reid," I chuckle softly.

"Who's?"

"You're girlfriend that's not your girlfriend," I say, eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh, right. I don't think I'm going on that date. Okay, actually I canceled that date when you got here."

"What?" I chuckle, confused.

"There's no date,” he says, point blank.

"Did you just trick me into sleeping with you?" My eyebrows are still furrowed, but I'm smiling.

He presses his lips together. "Well, if you put it that way... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"No, no. I admire the hustle, doc," I laugh softly, my fingertips circling on his bare chest.

Men and women can be purely platonic friends, no romantic feelings involved. But maybe Spencer and I aren’t that type of friends after all.

tags: @shakespear-picaso-lovechild @kylakins88 @jazzerbelle14 @cynbx @yazzyu @regulus-black-223048 @virginmusicloverr36 @sebs-oxygen @jolotta @booktvmoviefangirl @nevielei @pauline5525mgg @necromaniackat @r3idsp3ncer

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sheena-is-a-punk-rocker · 1 year

Text

Just a gal trying her very best to hold it together

Got the prompt “Rick going out of town and Harley missing him like crazy” over on AO3 and this was the result! Probably both the second angstiest AND second spiciest thing I’ve ever written. Yeah, this one is a spicy one so if that’s not your thing feel free to skip it.

He broaches the subject one night over dinner on the couch. A few of his army buddies reached out to him about a reunion trip. “But,” he stresses, “I don't have to go.”

Harley slowly sets her slice of pizza down, suddenly feeling like she's gonna vomit. Inwardly, her heart sinks. Outwardly, she forces herself to smile and tells him, “Have fun!”

“You're more than welcome to come,” Rick says.

“Nah, I don't wanna get in the way of your boys trip. Besides, I'm a literal terrorist. Probably a bad mix.”

He hasn't seen his army buddies in years and he deserves to spend some time to himself without her dragging him down with her baggage. Also, a small part of her wants to prove to herself that she can function without him.

He doesn't look convinced so she throws her leg over his lap so she's straddling him and boops his nose. “I'll be fine, I promise.”

His hands sneak under her shirt to caress her back. “Well alright. If you're sure, I'll let 'em know I'm coming.”

She tries not to panic when he tells her he'll be gone for an entire week. A couple days she could maybe handle but she knows a whole week will be a struggle. She's determined to get through it though. She refuses to let herself ruin this for him.

He sighs and asks one more time. “Are you sure you'll be okay?”

Suddenly needing to feel close to him, she reaches for his belt buckle and says, “Yes, now shut up and kiss me, Flag.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he responds, before crashing his lips into hers.

-------------

Harley awakens the next morning to the sensation of Rick's stubble against her cheek as he presses lingering kisses along her neck down to her shoulder.

She leans into the contact and smiles. Eyes still closed, she teases, “Whatcha doin'?” knowing full well where this is going.

He nips at her shoulder softly and slips one hand under her shirt to grasp her breast while the other one slips under the waistband of her panties.

“Giving you something to remember me by,” he answers, before sinking two fingers into her wet heat, thumb circling her clit.

She gasps at the sensations he's eliciting and quickly falls apart as he sucks a bruise into her neck and whispers encouragements in her ear.

Her ears are ringing once she comes back down to earth—flopping down on her back—but he's not done with her yet.

“C'mon, Harls, I think you got a couple more in you,” he rasps in her ear before his kisses start moving downward.

He manages to make her fall apart one more time on his tongue and a third time on his cock.

-----------------------------

She's completely boneless—floating on cloud nine, too exhausted to move by the time he slips out of bed, promising to call as soon as he lands. He kisses her softly and tells her, “I'll be back before you know it. I love you.”

She echoes the sentiment before her eyes drift shut. She curls up on his side of the bed and tells herself she'll just take a quick nap.

She has a panic attack almost as soon as she wakes up once it finally hits her that she's truly alone.

She recognizes it for what it is almost immediately and snatches Flaggy the soldier bear off the nightstand, hugging it to her chest. She wracks her brain as she tries to remember what she's supposed to do for a panic attack amid all the hyperventilating and cold flashes. She has a PhD for fuck's sake! It shouldn't be that hard!

For some reason all her stupid brain is giving her is the memory of that time Rick took her out for ice cream and her cone fell on the... ground! That's it!

She quickly works her way through the grounding exercise, Rick's voice in her ear the whole time walking her through it.

Her phone ringing is what finally snaps her out of it completely. She scrambles to pick it up, already knowing who it is on the other end of the line. She hopes her voice isn't shaking when she says, “Hiya baby!”

Rick chuckles. “Hey, Harls. How you doing without me?”

She lies (the first of many) and says, “Doin' great! I hung out with the Birdies today!”

She scoops his discarded shirt up off the floor and slips it over her head—inhaling deeply as Rick's scent immediately calms her down.

He tells her about his flight and what he has planned for the next week and she tries to sound enthusiastic about it, when all she wants to do is beg him to come home.

She ends up crying herself to sleep once he hangs up.

--------------------------------

Harley tries, she really does, to hold it together. The Birdies force her out of the house as often as they can, and she's pretty sure that's Rick's doing. It doesn't help the crushing loneliness though.

Every night, once she hangs up the phone, she cries herself to sleep and wakes up from nightmares. The bed feels too big without him in it.

By day four she's too exhausted and depressed to even get out of bed. She still forces herself to sound peppy when she answers the phone—but this time he's not buying it.

“Are you okay, Harls? And I mean really.”

She's too exhausted to keep the charade going and immediately breaks down into tears. “No, I'm really, really not okay! I haven't slept more than five hours in the last four days and—” She manages to catch herself before she admits just how frequent her panic attacks have become since he left. So much for not worrying him.

As she breaks down she registers shuffling noises on the other end of the line and then a door slam. “I'm on my way to the airport.”

“Don't you dare!”

He sighs. “Harls, you obviously need me right now.”

“Nuh-uh. You are finishing this trip and having a great time with your friends!”

He starts to protest but she cuts him off. “Promise me you won't come home early just for me.”

He sighs again. “I promise.”

“Great! So what'd ya do today?”

---------------------------------------

He's, of course, lying through his teeth when he tells her he won't cut his trip short. He's already booking a ticket home and saying his goodbyes as soon as he hangs up.

He's home by late afternoon—dropping his bags by the front door and hurrying to the bedroom. He finds Harley curled up in a ball on his side of the bed, her soldier bear clutched to her chest.

“I'm home, Harls,” he says softly—toeing off his shoes and getting ready to crawl under the covers with her.

“I already know you're not real so you can just fuck right off,” she snaps.

He slides underneath the covers and spoons up against her back. Her breathing hitches. He presses a kiss to her hair and tells her, “I'm right here, Harls. I'm real, I promise.”

Before he can so much as blink, he's being tackled onto the bed and Harley's sobbing into his neck. He squeezes her as close as he can with her bear trapped between them and rubs her back gently.

Smack!

“Ow!” he says, rubbing his chest where she'd hit him.

“I told ya not to come home early just for me!”

And then she's burying her face in his shoulder and clinging to him tightly. She swings her leg over his hip so she can be right on top of him.

From his vantage point he can see that her hair is a greasy tangled mess and he's sure he would find dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep if she were to look up at him.

“Harls, when's the last time you showered?”

“Um....”

He tries to sit up but she clings to him tighter. He sighs. “C'mon, Harls. Let's get you in the shower.”

She loosens her grip enough to allow him to sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed, clinging to him like a koala the whole time. He makes sure he has a good grip on her before standing up.

She tosses her bear on the bed so she can cling to him with both arms wrapped around his neck.

----------------------------------------

She knows she's being clingier than normal, but she can't help it. She was barely functioning without him.

He sets her down on her feet and she whines at the loss of contact. He kisses her nose and tells her, “I'm not going anywhere, I promise,” before turning the shower on.

He helps her get her shirt off (one of his t-shirts she'd stolen from his dirty laundry pile) before she rolls up on her toes. Leaning against his chest, she asks, “Gonna join me?”

He chuckles. “Would you expect anything less?”

She smirks and slips her hands under his shirt.

------------------------------------

The hot water feels amazing on her skin and she lets out a sigh as soon as she steps under the spray. Truthfully, she had been feeling pretty sweaty and gross but she'd barely been able to force herself out of bed to pee and brush her teeth—let alone shower.

Rick reaches for her shampoo and squirts a bit into his hand. “Turn around for me,” he instructs.

His hands in her hair feel amazing as he works the shampoo into a lather—making sure to coat every single strand. He coaxes her under the shower spray to rinse it out and then repeats the process with her conditioner. She sighs contently as he scratches her scalp gently.

Afterwards, he just holds her—her back to his chest. “I missed ya,” she admits quietly.

He presses a kiss to her temple and tells her, “I missed you too, Harls.”

She turns around to face him and loops her arms around his neck so she can pull him down for a gentle kiss. Well, it starts as a gentle kiss, but she quickly deepens it—suddenly desperate for him. She needs to feel close to him, needs to feel his hands all over her body.

She doesn't give him any warning before jumping up to hitch her legs around his waist but he catches her easily—immediately pinning her against the shower wall. She moans as his kisses move downward—which turns into a muttered “fuck” as he nips at that one spot that always drives her insane. “I need you,” she pants in his ear.

She doesn't need to tell him twice.

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She clings to him tightly as they come down from their collective high, nuzzling her nose into his shoulder and sighing contently. Fuck, she had missed this. Her mood suddenly drops as it sinks in that she hadn't even lasted five days without him. She feels selfish—his trip was ruined because of her.

The tears spill over without her permission and she bites down hard on her lower lip to try to hide a whimper.

Rick's not fooled though. He pulls back to look at her but she stubbornly buries her face in his shoulder. “Harls, look at me,” he commands gently.

She forces herself to look at him—as always, expecting to find pity there but instead only finding love and concern.

“What's wrong? Talk to me, Harls,” he says, cupping her face with one hand and wiping the tears away with his thumb.

“I couldn't even last a week alone!” she sobs. “Fuck, I could barely last a day! How pathetic is that? And I ruined your trip.”

“Gonna stop you right there. You didn't ruin anything.” She starts to protest but he continues, “I still had a good trip, I promise. And you're not pathetic.”

She doesn't have a response to that.

“Listen, Harls,” he sighs. “You're still just starting to process your trauma—and there's a lot of it, no shame in that. It's okay to still be clingy right now. Honestly, I had a feeling it was a bad idea but—”

“Don't ya dare feel guilty about this!”

“How 'bout we just leave it at we both made mistakes?”

He sets her back on her feet and they finish their shower in comfortable silence—finishing just before the hot water runs out. Rick wraps a towel around his own waist before bundling her up in a towel. He quickly towels her hair off and then asks her to turn around. In the mirror, she sees him reach for her hairbrush.

She sighs at the feeling of the bristles on her scalp as Rick slowly and methodically works out all the tangles. When he's done, he wraps his arms around her and kisses her cheek. “C'mon, Harls, let's get you to bed.”

She's practically asleep by the time he cleans up the bathroom and discards their wet towels and barely registers him scooping her up to carry her to the bedroom. He sets her on the bed and then rummages around in one of his drawers. She's so busy staring at his ass that she misses him tossing a shirt at her—letting out a startled squeak as the bright yellow fabric hits her in the face. She's delighted to realize it's his yellow bunny shirt she loves so much and slips it over her head.

He ushers her under the covers and then slides in behind her. He snakes an arm around her and pulls her close so her head is on his chest and she throws a leg over his hips and gets comfy—drifting off to sleep in no time. When she wakes up, disoriented, four hours later she's relieved to find he hasn't moved.

But then she panics. She'd kicked him right in the shin and he hadn't moved at all. She leans up to stare at him (maybe a little creepily, she will admit)—trying to see his face in the sliver of moonlight that's peeking through the blinds. She's reaching up to smack him when his arms tighten around her and he mumbles, “Stop starin' at me and go the fuck to sleep, Harls.”

She breathes a sigh of relief and settles back down.

Harley knows she's a hot mess.

But with Rick by her side she knows she'll (eventually) get it together.

#dc comics #the suicide squad #the suicide squad fanfiction #rick flag #harley quinn #rick flag x harley quinn #harley quinn x rick flag #rick x harley #harley x rick #quinnflag #rickquinn #harleyflag #established relationship #things got spicy #whoops #rick goes out of town and harley's a hot mess #and doesn't cope well at all #she's working through it okay #harley actually has to utilize flaggy the soldier bear

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