Random stuff.

You’d parked yourself on the edge of his mattress, holding yourself back from swinging your legs as you bit back a grin. You’d been picturing him in his pyjamas, a soft shirt and baggy pants so different to the usual crisp ironed silhouette of his work clothes. You wondered what his hair looked like in the morning, tousled from his pillow as he tried to sleepily smooth it back. Butterflies danced in your stomach as you pictured waking up beside him, seeing his flushed cheeks and hearing his lazy morning rambles inches away from you as you lay anchored to his chest.

With a hop, you sprung up from the bed, practically skipping over to the drawers across the room. With a flourish you pulled one open, eager to see what he slept in. Oh, you sighed, wrong drawer. Your lips melted into a small smile as you took in a mountain of colourful socks, oddly unorganised compared to the rest of his bedroom. Stripes and polka dots in every colour piled on top of neons and silly cartoon pictures, a set of ‘days of the week’ socks each highlighting a different star in the Big Dipper catching your attention the most.

You were sliding the drawer closed when you caught a glimpse of something in the back, poking out between two pairs of dinosaur socks. Something brown and fluffy, two beady glass eyes staring up at you.

“Who’s your friend?” You asked, leaning against the bathroom doorframe. In your hands you held an old, well-loved teddy bear. Its fur was a little matted with age but still soft in its little brown curls, and on its chest sat an embroidered comet with its threads surprisingly still mostly in tact.

Spencer’s eyes widened in the mirror, his cheeks turning red almost instantly. “Where did you find that?” He tried to feign indifference, but his voice wavered.

“Stashed away in your sock drawer.” You turned the bear over in your hands so that he was looking at you. Were you just getting tired or did its eyes look sad? “What was it doing in there?”

“No idea.” He shrugged, moving to take it from you. “Must’ve forgotten he was there.”

Cocking a brow at him you hid the bear behind your back, trapping him between you and the doorframe and out of Spencer’s reach. “He?”

“It.” He corrected himself. You brought the bear forward, gazing down at his little face as Spencer brushed past you into the bedroom. His little glass eyes definitely looked sad.

“‘He’ implies an identity.” You said, following Spencer as he perched on the edge of the mattress. “He’s clearly important. Why were you hiding him from me?”

“I was embarrassed. I didn’t want you to think I was-” he paused, brows creasing as he searched for the right word, “uncool.”

You smiled at him, a little loose and sappy. This was the man who first said hi by complimenting your edition of Great Expectations that he saw peeking out of your bag on the subway. The same man who called his mother before your first date to ask her what flowers he should bring you. He once took you to a chess tournament and commentated on every match with low whispers in your ear, sprinkling in a handful of sassy comments and tutting about moves he believed to be, what he called, ‘idiotic and completely incomprehensible’. ‘Uncool’ wasn’t even a word that came to mind.

“I think he’s very cool.” You shifted closer until your knees were touching, the bear resting in your lap as you toyed with him. “What’s his name?”

“Carl.” Spencer answered fondly, finally allowing a boyish grin to grace his face.

You nodded in recognition. “Sagan.” It made perfect sense. You recalled him telling you a childhood story about him making a salt model of the universe, intended as a birthday gift for his hero. You were pretty certain he could work Carl Sagan into any conversation given the opportunity.

“Well thank you for formally introducing us.” Propping the bear up with your hand, you tilted his head sadly to the side. “He must hate me.”

“He doesn’t hate you.” Spencer frowned.

“Oh, I bet he does. I bet he was thinking who is this mean, mean person I’m being shoved into a dark, scary drawer for?” The bear’s head bobbed in your hand as you jostled him like a puppeteer until your boyfriend reached over, taking him from your hands. He was gentle, handling his little best friend with a carefulness you’d only ever seen reserved for you. His gaze was loving, suddenly belong to a much, much younger version of him.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about that, Carl.” He murmured, voice tender. His fingers hovered over his fur, the familiar softness transporting him somewhere else.

You’d never quite seen this look on his face before. Spencer was someone who often acted older than he was, desperate to be seen with the sense of maturity he thought he ought to carry. There were always cracks in his mask, of course, he was far too passionate about things to keep it hidden for long. Whenever he was rambling, especially about something- for lack of better words- nerdy, there was that twitch of his lips that often gave way to a bright grin, that little glimmer of excitement in his eyes as his words poured from his brain faster than his mouth could keep up. It was almost that look you saw on his face now, but quieter. Gentler.

“How long have you had him?” You asked softly as his fingers moved to trace the embroidery on the bear’s chest.

“Since I was eight. He was the only toy I kept when…” He trailed off, flashing you a small smile, weaker than the one he wore earlier, before continuing. “I never could outgrow him.”

“Who could? Look at his little face.” You cooed, staring at the bear’s glass eyes once more- significantly less sad-looking in Spencer’s hands. “Where’d he come from?”

“Science museum gift shop.” He chuckled, face lighting up at the memory. “My mom took me. They had an interactive astronomy exhibit I’d been desperate to go to- not that I said anything. She found a flyer for it in my room and for my birthday she surprised me. It’s one of my favourite memories with her. We didn’t get many days out like that.”

His voice trailed off, his thoughts going with it. The room you were both in disappeared before his eyes, rearranging itself into the bedroom of his younger years. Toys were a scarcity, limited to models he’d made himself. They’d been replaced long ago by notebooks, pages and pages of poems and songs copied out to calm his mother. He’d told you about it once briefly, how he did it to soothe her paranoia. There was no time for toys when he was growing up so fast, but still in his small hands he held Carl. When he was too fretful to fall asleep, his door cracked open enough to hear Diana down the hall, his bear stayed awake with him. When he came home from school late and the sky outside the window was black, he had someone to confide in.

It was less and less often that he got good days with his mother, but Carl served as a reminder for every single one, most of all that day at the museum.

“I guess you could say he’s my oldest friend.” Spencer smiled with an embarrassed laugh, clearing his throat as he tried to steady his expression.

“Well, I’m very honoured to finally meet him.” You reached out, shaking his little paw between your fingers. “I take it he doesn’t usually live in your sock drawer?”

“No, no- he takes the left side of my pillow usually. Sometimes he sits at my desk when I’m working.” He wrinkled his nose, debating whether he should say more. “He, uh. He sits on the other side of the board when I play chess by myself. He’s pretty good at it.”

You laughed, feeling your cheeks ache as you leaned into him and propped your head on his shoulder. You’d been prepared to see him in his pyjamas, you were working up to being prepared to sleep in the same bed. What you hadn’t been ready for was meeting your boyfriend’s teddy bear. If it was even possible you loved him even more now, heart swelling as you pictured him coming home to his little roommate. Did he talk to him about his day? Tuck him in before he left for a case? Does he miss him when he’s away?

“You know I have a childhood bear too?” You said, your voice lazy as your cheek melted into the fabric of his shirt. “You’ll have to bring Carl over sometime, we can have a double date.”

Spencer’s shoulder shook beneath you as he laughed. “Yeah, I think he would love that. It’s about time.”

He turned his head to look down at you, and you tried your best to meet his eyes from your perch. His face looked so soft, relaxed in a way you rarely got to see. He was always at his most beautiful like this, completely unguarded, the mask that etched a crease between his brows and a frown on his lips comfortably lifted and leaving him looking impossibly young. You lifted your head, pressing a gentle kiss to his warm, flushed cheek.

“I can’t wait.” You smiled, rising to your feet and extending a hand to him. “Now come on. I am desperate to see your pyjamas.”

“I still don’t understand your infatuation with this.” He sighed, shaking his head fondly. But still he took your hand, letting you pull him up before following you as you skipped over to the drawers once more.