Title: Vindictive Confessions
Author: Arcayne
Permission to archive: yes
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Genre pre-slash
Pairing/Characters:Reid/Gideon
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Reid is receiving prank calls concerning Gideon.
Warnings: sexual themes, implied non-con/coerced

***

Spencer Reid lay back in the dark after hanging up the phone. He had to be up in a few hours. His apartment was secure, he was alone in his room, in the same double bed he'd had since his junior year in high school. Reid knew he was safe. But that prank call had shaken him. A smooth voice distorted into a harsh whisper, a hateful whisper.

"Has he fucked you yet?"

His own confused answer, mind sodden with sleep, "Wha'?"

"Has he fucked you yet? Has he? Did you like it?" and then a click as the caller hung up.

He eyed the phone in the dim blue light from his alarm clock, but there were no more calls. A prank, that's all. A stupid prank. Nothing to worry about. But Reid couldn't get back to sleep.

He was heavy-eyed at work the next day, a shade less quick on the uptake. It was slow and he was fighting sleep and a rather heavy lunch, dragging one digitized card at a time in a game of solitare, when a warm hand dropped on his shoulder. He jumped in his chair, looked up to see his boss smiling and nodding at the screen. "Who's been teaching you to goof off?"

"What? Oh, well, I...there wasn't...I just..." Reid was at a loss until Gideon let him off the hook.

"It's slow, it's warm. I'm fighting off a nap too. I suggest coffee." The older man winked and headed back to his own desk, and as Reid watched him go "Has he fucked you yet?" flashed through his mind. What the HELL? Reid turned quickly back to his neglected screen, feeling the heating rising to his face. Why that? Why NOW?

By the next morning, after an uneventful night, the call had lost its malicious sting, it was just another prank. Working with his mentor and the new team was exciting, Reid was enjoying a camaraderie he'd never known before. He was having fun learning the group dynamics, being a part of them instead of observing from the outside. If the others teased him about his inexhaustible supply of esoteric facts, it was a friendly teasing. He felt including. Respected. Liked. And the chance to see Gideon in action was amazing. If he'd considered Jason brilliant working his magic in a classroom back at Quantico, seeing the near psychic leaps he made in the field dealing with actual UNSUBS left Reid speechless. Almost. Being himself, Reid would press his mentor for facts, reasons. Asking him "how" a hundred different ways, and Gideon always answered, usually patiently. But there was always something behind those world weary eyes that Reid knew was beyond his understanding.

Still, the team was working into a cohesive whole, and Reid was both busy and happy. So it was a huge shock when his extension rang one night when he had stayed late to finish some paperwork. He was alone in the big office and it made him feel vulnerable when he heard that voice. That gloating hoarse whisper. "Still there, Spencer? Stay late to suck him off? He likes it under the desk, you know."

"What do you want? Who ARE you?"

"Just getting acquainted, Doc. You and I have a lot in common. Talk to you soon." Click. Gone again. Unwillingly, Reid turned his head and saw Gideon's desk. "He likes it under the desk." This guy, whoever he was, was no random caller. He knew Reid by name. Was he implying that he knew Gideon as well? Knew something ugly about Jason Gideon?

Gathering his papers with shaking hands, the young man left the building. He half expected to be accosted in the parking garage. But no one approached him and he reached his apartment with a sigh of relief. Until the phone rang.

***

Reid knew he should tell someone. It was the first rule if you even suspected a stalking, collect evidence and document it by TELLING someone. But this was so ugly and so embarrassing, and what was he going to say anyway? Some pervert was calling him and making accusations about some other anonymous guy. Not exactly the sort of thing even his team would jump on. Besides, as much as he hated to admit it, he needed to know more. If this guy really was accusing Jason of something, Reid had to learn enough to refute him, to track him down, and to stop him. He promised his nagging conscious that if this thing went any further than phone calls, he'd tell Gideon immediately, and damn his own discomfort.

This time he was ready for the caller. Machine on record, pen poised to take notes. "Tell me, Doc, what do your friends call you? We should be friends, you and I, we've got so much in common. "

"Doc is fine", Reid answered, trying to keep his voice steady and neutral. Like Gideon in action. "Do I know you? What should I call you?"

"Disillusioned. Disappointed. Such a bright young man, with a shining future ahead of me. I went to college early too, he likes his boys green, doesn't he? Green and smart and ready for training." The whisper thickened around the word "he", coarsened with emotion. "Hah Training No pun intended, of course."

"Won't you tell me who you're talking about? If I knew, then maybe we could work all of this out." Reid reached, trying to connect with his mysterious adversary.

"Don't play dumb with ME, smart guy I had a future I was the bright new star, so grateful to be chosen and then..." the voice yelled, then trailed off, taking a deep shuddering breath. Were there tears on the other end of the line? Reid felt an unwelcome twinge of sympathy. "Tell me, Doc. What do child molesters and FBI profilers have in common?"

Just the implication made Reid angry, made him forget his calm and his training. "Nothing " he snapped out loyally.

"Tsk tsk tsk. Not very professional of you, and you learning at the feet, so to speak, of the master. I'll give you this one for free, to chew on. The best ones know just which members of the herd to cut out, the weakest. The most needy. The most vulnerable. Who fits that description on your precious team, Doc? and the caller was gone. But his words slammed into the young man's brain and he couldn't stop hearing them.

Because, in a sick way, the caller was right. It took a special talent to read people, and no matter how good the training, some people just had the gift. Including the most successful serial child molesters, and the most successful profilers. Like Gideon.

Reid went into work determined to not let his private investigation affect his work with the team. He couldn't, they were counting on him to make the connections he provided, his own leaps of logic that furthered their understanding of each UNSUB. He couldn't help watching Jason in a way he hadn't before, found himself counting the light pats on his back, the times Gideon leaned over his shoulder to see whatever facts he'd brought up on a screen. Found himself fighting the urge to acknowledge that the older man's scent made him squirm, soap and shaving cream and coffee, in a way that JJ's perfume never had. That's what was wrong with this whole scenario. That's why he was so determined to prove the prankster wrong. Because he never wanted to admit what those bitterly whispered words had awoken in him. The fantasies that had begun to haunt his interrupted sleep.

***

A strong hand stroked his hair and he would have purred like a cat if his mouth hadn't been full. Wonderfully full, the cock heavy on his tongue, sucking lightly to get a feel for it, the thick blunt head easing past his lips, sliding deep to touch the back of his throat. He had one hand wrapped around the lower part of the shaft, guiding the depth and pace as he gave all his attention to the blow job. Kneeling in a confined space also helped him focus, so much so that all he could understand of the deep voiced rumbling above him was approval.

Approval from the man who mattered most to him. He redoubled his efforts, tongue caressing silky taut skin, sucking deep and hard until the hand tangled in his hair. His head and face were held tightly and still while the man thrust hard, groaning...

And Reid jerked awake as his own cock exploded over the sheets. He lay there panting in the darkness, trying to make sense of his first wet dreams in years. Trying to accept that it was about Jason Gideon.

"You see, Doc, it's the combination he likes. Bright, yes, that's a compliment to him. A smart young trainee who hangs on his every word. But you have to need him, too. You have to need his praise and his wisdom. That's where it starts. Then the teacher teaches you to need that warm concerned look when you're upset over the case. The occasional friendly hand on your back." the voice was relaxed now, almost dreamy in recollection." And you start to feel the heat when he focuses everything on you. When he stands a little too close to read over your shoulder. Do you think he doesn't know that you're responding to him? Have you dreamed about him yet, Doc? Got hard thinking about sucking him off? Because you know he's picturing it all, including bending you over his desk. Just like he did to me."

Reid knew his performance was slipping at work. Always a little ill at ease, his guilty erotic thoughts filled his mind, had him blushing too frequently to avoid notice. Even Morgan, who was more inclined to tease the younger agent when given the chance, had expressed concern. JJ had asked several times if he was all right, going as far as to invite him to dinner a few times, but Reid had stammered through an excuse of too much background material to read at night. Or something.

At this point, he wasn't quite sure what he had told her. His mind was filled with whispered rants and his own powerful erotic images, and while confusion had him avoiding being in close quarters with Gideon, the man was still there, watching him with an unreadable expression on his lined face.

***

When the knock at his door came, Reid expected it. He had missed three days of work, this last day without even calling in. As he slowly made his way to the door, he glanced around the usually neat apartment, now stacked with frenzied notes, tapes, a blanket on the couch where he had tried to sleep once his bed seemed too alien. His bed, where he dreamed nightly of Jason, a more commanding Jason, ordering him on his knees or over his desk. Dreamed of sucking cock while Jason murmured approval and stroked his hair, of crying out while something hard and fleshy penetrated him deeper than his desperate fingers could while he fantasized. He couldn't sleep there now. He wasn't sleeping much at all. The caller, whoever he was, had grown more and more explicit in his recital of past events, and Reid has long since passed being skeptical. Or objective. Now he just listened, arousal and anger swirling in his heart. He listened because he could no longer resist the images the caller's voice brought him, no matter how ugly or obscene they had seemed at first. Reid was lost, and he knew it, and all his genius couldn't save him now.

Gideon was waiting when Reid opened the door. The older man looked hearty, as usual, dark red scarf wrapped around his neck, battered bulky leather jacket zipped up to the scarf. He showed no signs of impatience as Reid stared at him, one hand/braced on the doorframe as if for support.

Finally, belatedly remembering his manners, Reid backed away to let Gideon enter the apartment, blushing when the other man's body brushed past his. He shut the door and leaned back against it, watching his mentor take in the messy living room, glance through the open bedroom door, and finally look back at him. That steady measuring look caused a twinge in his groin that sent a flash of panic through his whole body. No! Please, not that. Not with Jason so near.

"You look like hell, and your place doesn't look much better. Feel like telling me what's going on?" Jason moved the blanket aside and sat on the couch, unzipping and shrugging off the flannel lined jacket as if he were settling in for a long stay. His tone was light, the look on his face was not.

Reid brushed his overlong hair off his face with a thin pale hand and tried to gather his thoughts. He had no idea what to tell Gideon. And, as much as he would have like to do so, he couldn't keep a safe distance from him. Almost unwillingly, he moved to sit beside him, a leg bent beneath his body as he faced his mentor. "I know, I should have called this morning, but."

"Forget work. That isn't what's important here. Spence, you're distracted. You've lost weight, and it looks like you've been living in some kind of frenzy here."

One long fingered hand snagged a wadded ball of paper, and Reid practically lept across the distance between them, snatching it from Jason's hand. The move had put him practically in the other man's lap and his heart pounded painfully as he looked into startled dark eyes. Looked at that weathered face, the firm mouth so close to his...leaning in to kiss him. Two strong arms closing around him, pulling him half across Gideon's lap while he was being quite thoroughly kissed. It was fantasy, it was pure bliss, it was warmth and dreaming and Reid wanted to lose himself in that kiss.

Until the phone rang. The cold bell was like ice water and Reid pulled back, dove for the reciever and almost snarled "Hello" into the phone. A startled woman apologized for disturbing him, saying that it must be a wrong number, and he knelt there, drained, letting the heavy thing dangle from his hand. He couldn't give Jason what he wanted. He couldn't, without telling him what had been going on, and he could never tell him that. Except...he had to. He had to know. His voice was shaking as he spoke, without turning around. "How many others have there been?"

Jason's rich voice, so steady. "Excuse me?"

"Other students, trainees, like me. Men who worked with you, LEARNED from you, and you wanted them. I'm not the first, I can't be. They wanted you too, please, Jason, tell me that they wanted you too, that you didn't, you couldn't... he said.." A movement behind him and Jason held him tightly, grounding the violent sick tremors shaking his body. Giving him a safe place to center his whirling thoughts. And that warm rich voice in his ear, calming his racing heart.

"Who, Spencer? What did he say?"

He shrugged in the secure hold, grateful now for the hair that hung over his face and hid his shame at doubting Gideon. But it was too late to back down now. "He called me, I don't know who, but he knew all about me. He said that he'd been one of your students, that he'd worked with you. `Best and the brightest', you like that, picking out the needy one in the herd." He flinched at the ugly association, and felt Jason flinch with him. They had shifted and Jason's large hands were at his neck now, rubbing the tense hunched shoulders. Encouraging him, silently, to finish. "He talked about what you liked...him over your desk, under it on his knees, against the wall in the records room..." Reid could hear his own voice, but not what he was saying now, it was mindless recall of the details that had been emblazoned on his brain. All that mattered now is what Jason would say.

"Did you believe him?" No emotion in the question. No anger, or hurt. He was still stroking Reid's shoulders, still touching him, but the younger man was still afraid of what was to come.

"At first, I wanted to trap him. To find out why he was stalking me and catch him. But...I didn't mean to, Jason! There was this dream, more dreams, and you were in them. Please, I'm sorry, I know I should have told you when the calls started, but I couldn't think what to say. And now..." Those same large hands turned him, two fingers under his jaw forcing his head up to meet Gideon's gaze. His face was kind, warm. Concerned. Gideon's hand on his bare skin was almost caressing.

"Do you believe that I forced myself on him? On anyone?" What had it cost his mentor to ask that question?

"No!" That at least was swift and unashamed. "Sometimes in my fantasies... but never in real life. You wouldn't have to." And Jason chuckled at that bit of loyalty. The hand holding Reid's chin moved to his cheek, stroked it, and he turned his face into it, like a cat.

"Several years ago, I did have a relationship with someone I worked with. He was a bright young man, not nearly in your league, but smart and eager to learn. Eager to be with me too. It was very much a mutual thing, Spencer, until he got into the field and began seeing what had only been academic until then. He was horrified with the work, and became horrified with me as well. It wasn't healthy for him, or for me, and he needed help. I had to end it, and tried to get him what he needed. When he disappeared, I didn't try to track him down. I figured that he needed to be far from the scene of his disappointments."

Relieved, Reid wanted to fling himself against Jason, but the awkwardness of making such a move, uninvited, stymied him.

Gideon had no such reservations and he pulled the younger man close, reclaiming the welcoming mouth he'd surrendered before. Reid clung to him, giving in to his impulses now, knowing that he would be able to follow where Jason would lead him.

And as he began leading his soon to be lover, Jason Gideon made a mental note to disable the vocal harmonizer set up back at his house. No more late night phone calls for Spencer Reid would be necessary. It might have been ruthless, but he knew Reid would have never acted on his deeply private fantasies without the extreme nudge he'd been given. And Jason had wanted him badly. Enough to use his special knowledge to take what he wanted, without shame. He'd be good for Reid. He'd been good for the others too.


End

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