Rating: FRAO for porn. Angst/date rape-ish
Summary: Jason Gideon just got his star pupil a job and he expects to be thanked.
Comments: Better than watching Reid suck on a lollipop (and that was pretty darned good)
SPOILERS: None. Takes place before season 1, when Reid joins the BAU. Also, I’ve always hated Gideon and thought his character was such a self-righteous jerk so this piece really makes him out to be a bad guy.
I FINALLY WROTE SOMETHING FOR ANSERA’S FRAKKING AWESOME CM KINK MEME! Written to fill the prompt “Teacher/Student kink, with reluctant Reid feeling he owes Gideon.” This is angsty/borderline date rapey, you’ve been warned!
I am sorry I didn’t get in on this sooner, but I’ve been so busy reading your fics and working on This Feeling Won’t Go/My Bones On Your Bones stories and studying for the GRE.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any rights or trademarks to Criminal Minds, the FBI, CBS or any of the characters within. No infringements of these copyrights are intended. Any similarities between original characters therein are a coincidence. I make no profit from the following fictional story. (Fictional, maybe, but I swear this happened all in my head).
Gideon reaches his wine glass towards me and I ‘clink’ it with his. Today I graduated from the FBI Academy and officially became a federal agent. I could go to the local bar with some of my classmates, but quite frankly I don’t think I’d be very comfortable. So I opted to take Gideon up on his offer for dinner. He’s cooked for me before and it’s very good food. Besides, he’s worked so hard to get me into the Academy in the first place, it would be considered rude to not accept his offer.
“I have some good news for you Spencer,” he sets his wine glass down on the coffee table in front of us. “I got you your first assignment.”
I swallow the wine in my mouth. “You did? I thought we had no control over our first posts in the FBI.”
“It’s in the Research Department. You’d be working on writing post-mortems on cases, cataloging VICAP research and interviews, and you’d also be assisting in a special project within the BAU.”
Gideon smiles warmly and looks me in the eye. “I’ve been asked to create a curriculum for NYU on the psychology of serial offenders and I thought I could use someone of the college age to help give me a better point of view.”
Inside I’m very excited—I get do dive into the FBI head-first, start working in the BSU right away. I know it’s going to be a long time before I get to actually profile open cases, travel and do consultations with departments around the country—but this is a start. This is what I’ve been groomed for. I meet Gideon’s eye. “Thank you.”
His hand rests on my thigh. “Thank you.” He keeps his hand there for a few beats before pushing off to stand up. “Dinner smells ready to me. I hope you like lasagna.”
“I love it,” I manage to say, feeling very uncomfortable. Gideon has never touched me like that before, not ever. I recall, thanks to my eidetic memory, a teacher in one of my courses finding out that I was Gideon’s ‘pet project.’
“So you’re his pet this time around?” Dr. Glenn says, packing up his things.
“He’s been a very supportive and educational mentor,” I reply matter-of-factly.
Dr. Glenn stops and looks at me. “Dr. Reid, Gideon is a very smart man and if you want a future in the BAU, he’s the one to get chummy with. But, well, it’s just rumors but be careful. A job in the BAU might cost you more than you think.”
I always thought he was referring to the emotional and psychological stress of dealing with the deepest depravity humanity has to offer.
Grabbing my nearly-empty wine glass, I sit at the table while Gideon brings me a plate of steaming lasagna and toasted garlic bread. I wait until he’s seated to take a bite and it is really delicious. I say so and he nods, refilling my wine without me asking. We chat about nothing in particular—some about the news of the day, some about my new position…which starts in two days. The lasagna has a slightly spicy kick to it—the spiced pork sausage in the third and fifth layers—and I finish my wine rather quickly. This time when Gideon reaches to empty the bottle into my glass I put up my hand.
“Nonsense, we’re celebrating,” he says, filling my glass.
Knowing the bottle is very expensive, I can’t just let it go to waste. I calculate that each glass he’s poured me costs $43.1246 for a grand total of $129.3738 or just $129.38 since money always gets rounded up. I can’t not drink it. Even though I have nearly no alcohol tolerance and the room is starting to spin just a little already. The food helps, but not much. When you’re sensitive to a substance, you’re…
I’m snapped out of my though. “Yes?”
“Would you like to sit in front of the fire?”
I look down—Gideon’s already cleared our plates and my third glass of wine is half-empty. I was thinking so hard I didn’t register my actions. I am drunk, or at least getting there. I grab my glass. “That sounds good. I’m a bit sleepy, I should go soon.”
“You can always stay in my guest room,” Gideon says, staring the gas fireplace with the click of a button. He pats the spot on the couch next to him and I sit, taking a deep sip of my wine. The bottle is gone so I don’t have to worry about him forcing more down my throat.
“I’m so proud of you Spencer,” Gideon says quietly. His hand returns to my thigh, just sitting there. “All of our hard work is starting to pay off.”
Our hard work. I do owe Gideon everything, right? His hand is warm, the fire is warm, my blood is warm. I really don’t want to loose my virginity to Jason Gideon of all people, but yet I owe him as much. He’s worked hard to basically get me set into a career for life, to be the father I never had. It’s really the least I can do.
“I’m drunk,” I mutter as Gideon leans close. It’s as if he could read my thoughts and knew I was thinking about his intentions.
“Hmmm…” he leans in to kiss my neck. My whole body tenses up at his touch and screams ‘no’ but I can’t stop him. If I leave now, I might not have a job in the morning. I’ll get assigned to a field office in Montana where my co-workers won’t know me and they’ll give me a hard time. At least in the BAU I have Jason Gideon to back me up, support me.
He takes my earlobe in his mouth and nibbles it gently at first, then starts to use his teeth. I tense and bite my cheek to keep from crying out when it hurts. His hand moves up my thigh and brushes against my penis.
“You’re liking this,” Gideon whispers in my ear.
“An erection is a physiological response to physical stimulus…” I manage to slur, not wanting to outright consent or deny him.
“You should use your mouth for something other than spouting facts,” he says, parting from me to look me in the eye. I lean towards him in an attempt to kiss him when he puts his hand up. “No, no lips.” He looks down at his lap.
He wants me to fellate him.
The alcohol has lubricated my normal awkward nature I note, watching my hands move to his belt. I unbuckle it and his jeans, slowly maneuvering the zipper down. I get off the couch and crawl on my hands and knees to the floor in front of him. He spreads his legs on either side of me as I reach into his boxers and find his very hard erection. I’ve never done this. I’ve fantasized about it with other men, but not Jason Gideon. I really don’t want to do this…
But now I have to.
I lean in close and open my mouth. The head touches my tongue and the flesh is warm. The liquid that slowly seeps out of the tip is salty and I don’t like it, but I keep going. I find that I can get most of his penis into my mouth without gagging, which only relieves me. Gagging would have only made this entire experience more humiliating and I’m embarrassed enough as it is. I flatten my tongue and apply pressure to the underside of his erection while hollowing my cheeks to create suction. I sense his breathing and heart rate speed up as I begin to bob my head up and down.
His hands find my hair—which has grown out since I cut it short on the first day of the Academy. He pulls hard, enough to make me yelp over his erection. He doesn’t stop which disappoints me. He likes having control, I profile inside my head. Getting me drunk and feeling like I owe him normalizes this act for him. Power-reassurance.
“Fuck Spencer…” he grunts. “I didn’t know you appreciated me this much.”
I was right. I open my eyes and look at him, nodding with his penis still in my mouth.
“Are you grateful?”
I nod again, sucking harder and bobbing faster. The bitter taste of his pre-ejaculate hits the back of my throat and makes me want to cry. I asked for this job, for his tutelage. I owe him.
He pulls my hair. “Show me how grateful you are Spencer. Suck me off.”
I work harder, combining motion with suction and pressure from my tongue. I grab onto his knees for leverage. When I feel him twitch in my mouth I know he’s about to orgasm. I attempt to pull my mouth off him but he’s got a hard grip on my hair and I can’t. When he ejaculates, the bitter salty liquid hits my tongue and makes me gag. I practically choke but Gideon doesn’t let my mouth leave him until he’s done.
When he lets me go I rock back on the floor and cough, reaching for my glass of wine to rinse my mouth out.
“Did you like that? Because I did.” He smiles at me, his limp penis still hanging out of his open pants in front of me.
I nod, sitting back on the couch to try to catch my bearings. I’m dizzy from the alcohol and the lack of oxygen from coughing. “I should go.”
“Don’t, not yet.” He reaches for my hand. “You did such a good fucking job…” his eyes are glossy and pupils dilated. “Do you ever touch yourself?”
I don’t know how to answer. Of course I have, quite frequently. “Masturbation is a healthy physical act that can have positive emotional effects, such as reducing stress.”
“You’ve been nervous all night.”
I swallow, the bitter taste of ejaculate fading with the thick smokiness of the wine in my mouth. “You want me to?”
“I want to watch you get off,” he smirks. He zips up his pants and shifts in his seat. “I can’t come again tonight so I want to watch you.”
I set down my wine glass, unzipping my khaki pants. I lost my involuntary erection when I was choking on Gideon’s penis, but there is something arousing about him sitting back, eyes glued to my private parts. The fact that I find it at least a little arousing makes me sick, but I just swallow and try to focus. I lean back into the couch just a little, realizing that I usually do this with lotion. I look around but see nothing.
Gideon grabs my hand and brings it to his mouth, spitting into my palm.
I want to scream out in repulsion, but instead I take his saliva and coat my penis with it, getting erect and aroused in the process. I close my eyes and try so very hard to pretend that I’m not on Gideon’s couch while he watches me masturbate. I’m in my own bed, kissing the very attractive man who sat next to me in my ‘sociology of non-violent crime’ seminar. He was blonde, thin like me, and his lips were soft-looking and he always smiled and said hello to me when we sat down for each class. We’re in my bed, kissing. He reaches his hand into my pants and wraps his fingers around my erection, whispering into my ear. He works furiously, wanting me to orgasm quickly. Neither of us can wait, it’s been too long anyway. I want to finish and soon.
It doesn’t take long before I feel my hips start to jerk, that familiar tingle run through my body and soon hot and sticky ejaculate spurt out of me, landing on my hand and my pants. When I’m done, I open my eyes and get sucked back into reality. I’m on Gideon’s couch, on display.
He goes to the kitchen and brings back some paper towels, handing them to me. “So, Agent Benson is expecting you on Monday at nine for the tour of the archives and your assignment. Fourth floor of the West building.”
I clean myself off and put the soiled towels on the coffee table, knowing that my pants are going to be stained. I wince when I stand up, realizing that while I was somewhat-lubricated, it was still really rough. “Thank you.”
“You’ll be working with him in the mornings, then from two to six you’ll be working in the basement with me. Do you have enough money for the Metro?”
I nod. “Good night Gideon.”
He doesn’t say anything back, so I just grab my bag and leave. I get about a block away from his building when it hits me. Power-reassurance. He used me, just like an UNSUB. He victimized me, and I let him. What does that make me?
I feel my stomach turn and I manage to duck into an alley before I vomit, spraying partially digested lasagna, wine and ejaculate onto the pavement. Mucus leaks out of my nose to protect my nasal passages from stray bile and my eyes tear up with the burn.
I can’t cry in public, not here, not now.
I spit into the pile of vomit at my feet, wipe my nose with my sleeve and walk to the nearest Metro stop.
I hoped you like…I don’t write a lot of smut (there are scenes in my series but not every chapter or anything) and I tried to capture Reid’s persona pre-series which is haaaard when I’m writing a more AUish type Reid in another story!!! Concrit is always appreciated!