Criminal Minds: 'Blame Emily,' R, Reid/Rossi
Title: Blame Emily
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Rating: R(?)
Pairing: Reid/Rossi
A/N: My first fic for this fandom. Written at 3 am, unbeta'd, and written under the influence. Not quite 2K. This was nothing more than an excuse to write smut.
ETA: Info on the Sacred Band paraphrased from Wikipedia. The "shag/marry/push off a cliff" thing was inspired by another fic where that game was played (I think it was a Morgan/Reid fic, but I'm not sure.)
Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds or anything therein.
Really, I blame Prentiss for this entire situation. Without her "help," I probably wouldn't be here, pressed against his back, rubbing myself off against his ass as my hand presses against his burgeoning erection...
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Rewind to three hours ago. JJ and Garcia managed to get us a week off after an especially brutal case-- a butcher who killed and carved up young men in their cars. Normally, I'd be in Vegas by now to visit my mom, but they just started her on a new drug regiment, and her doctor suggested that I wait a few days to see how she reacts. Thus, when Prentiss decided she wanted to go out for drinks, I was available. Or at least in town, which seems to be the sole criterion by which she judges availability.
I wasn't the only one she dragged out. Morgan was in Chicago, and Hotch was attempting to spend every waking moment with his son, but Garcia and Kevin made it out, while JJ promised to drop by at some point. Rossi begged off, for which I was grateful as I didn't trust myself to not to embarrass myself in front of him. I admit to a certain amount of jealousy as well, because, well, Prentiss and Garcia can be scary when they drink.
It took three drinks before the topic turned to our absent team mates. Kevin and I shared looks of horror when the women began assigning ratings to them out of ten, though assuredly for different reasons. Kevin knows that Garcia is attracted to him, but it's still obviously painful for him to hear his girlfriend expound on the planes of Derek Morgan's posterior in detail which speaks of very attentive study of his-- ahem-- assets.
On the other hand, well, life on the road doesn't leave much room for modesty. Having shared close quarters with each of my team mates, I've done my best to avoid those types of thoughts. I haven't always been successful.
I was halfway through drink number four when it happened.
“Hey JJ! So Rossi: Shag, marry, or push off a cliff?” Prentiss waved her over as she yelled, gesturing for me to grab an empty chair from the next table. I complied, as it allowed me to hide my face, which I'm sure must have been a brilliant shade of crimson. “Difficult choice. Can I shag him, then throw him off a cliff?” The two other women snickered.
“Well, it doesn't look like it matters anyway, since I'm pretty sure his attention is focused elsewhere,” Prentiss half-whispered, practically leering at me. I tried futilely to hide behind my drink. Did I mention that my team mates can be scary when they drink?
JJ, the kind, caring soul that she is, took one look at my face and changed the subject. By them though, I was no longer following the conversation, my mind circling Prentiss' statement. Was that look intentionally directed at me? If so, why? Had she seen something in my actions? Was she trying to tell me that I'd never have a chance? Or, could she be saying that--
Am I the one he's been focused on?
“Reid! Hey, wake up kiddo!” Garcia was snapping her fingers in front of my face as she called my name.
“Erm, sorry. I just-- I mean I was-- um--”
“Yeah, I figured.”
“Um, well, I think I've had enough for one night,” I said as I climbed to my feet. I staggered slightly, prompting JJ to tell me that she was giving me a ride home. My scowl deepened as Prentiss interrupted. “Are you headed past HQ, by any chance? I need to grab something from my desk.” As it happens, JJ was indeed headed past the BAU headquarters, and in fact, she needed to pick up something from her desk as well. Funny how that happens.
It's all a conspiracy, I swear.
In any case, we poured ourselves into JJ's car, and off we went to headquarters. For some reason, Prentiss felt the need to constantly bring up Rossi's name. By the time JJ had parked, I was attempting to block out Prentiss' words by mentally reciting the last half a dozen books I'd read. It didn't help, though once she waved JJ on, saying that she'd catch up with her in a few minutes.
“So, what amazing things are going on inside that head of yours,” she asked, sounding almost... concerned?
“I was just considering the Machiavellian elements present in--”
“Reid? Stop. You know what I'm talking about.”
“No, I don't. I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. There's nothing to talk about.”
“Reid, I've lost count of the number of times I've caught you watching him.”
The temptation to make a snide remark was overwhelming, but I couldn't find the words. Strange how an IQ of 187 can fail at the most inconvenient of times. She didn't give me time to gather myself, however, but rather barreled on.
“I've seen him watching you, too.”
My breath caught.
“So, I'm headed upstairs, if you'd like to keep me company.” I started to decline, but, thinking back to the previous case, I decided I might as well walk her up.
So we got upstairs, and I walked straight to the coffee pot. Perhaps it will help me sober up enough that JJ will relent and allow me to take the Metro home. I wasn't particularly paying attention to where I was going, having seen the only two people I expected to be in the office, which turned out to be a big mistake as walked straight into a door...
Strange, that wasn't open a second ago.
Holding my nose, I looked up... straight into the eyes of the object of my affection.
Like I said, a conspiracy.
Rossi looked horrified as blood dripped down my face from my damaged nose. He grabbed my arm and pulled me into his office, handing me a box of tissues to staunch the flow. I sat down and leaned forward, willing the bleeding to stop soon.
“Spe-- Reid-- I'm sorry--” At any other time, I'd give anything to see him stammer like this, to see proof that he's just as capable of becoming flustered and babbling as I am, but right then I was mortified.
We sat in awkward silence for a few minutes; Prentiss' words echoing through my mind as I tried not to stare at him.
Finally, he walked up to me began inspecting my face. “Well, it's going to be a bit swollen, but I don't think you did any major damage,” he pronounced. But still, he didn't move away. I stared back at him, and with all the courage four drinks could bestow on me, closed the distance between our lips.
He froze momentarily, and I nearly pulled back before I felt him react. Arms reached around me as his lips began to move as a counterpoint to mine. All too soon, though, he pulled back.
“I'll go lock the door.” He had barely gotten it closed, however, before I pressed against his back, pressing kisses to his neck. I scraped my teeth against his earlobe and nearly crowed in triumph when I pulled a moan out of him.
“You know, we-- ah-- shouldn't. Fraternization policies-- oh-- and all” he protested weakly even as he turned his head to capture my lips.
“Overthinking things is my job, not yours,” I muttered. My hands moved almost automatically; one hand unfastened his shirt buttons as quickly as possible while the other caressed the bulge growing in his jeans. He groans and presses his ass harder against my own erection, and I couldn't stop the curses that were falling from my lips.
Aaaand... we're back to where you came in.
My fingers fumble with his belt buckle, but after what feels like an eternity, I manage to get it undone. He takes care of the button on his jeans for me, and all that's left is for me to reach into his boxers and grasp his cock. I'm grinding against his ass as I stroke him with my left hand. My right hand has made it into his shirt now and I grin at the hiss he lets out when I pinch a nipple. His head falls back against my shoulder, and I attack his neck with my lips and teeth and tongue, reveling in every sound of pleasure I draw from him. Finally I move back to his lips, and the only thing I'm capable of is reacting to the taste of him, and the smell of him, and the feel of him.
He yelps as he comes, sounding almost shocked. I want to snicker at the sound, but suddenly he bites my lip and presses back against my groin hard, and everything goes gray as I come in my pants. We lean against the door, my head resting against his shoulder. He turns his head and looks at me, face contorted with an incomprehensible expression.
“This is a bad idea.”
“Probably,” I murmur, pressing my lips against the juncture of his neck and shoulder. His shirt is slipping down his shoulder, and his tie had been pulled off at some point-- he must have done that, since I don't remember doing it-- and I lazily stick out my tongue and lick his neck. Hmm, Salty. He makes this little breathy noise, sounding almost like a kitten, and I can't help it-- I laugh.
“There's no way we can keep this from the team.”
“We've got a moratorium on profiling the team.”
“It's not something you can just turn off, kid.”
“I don't think anyone on the team would really care, as long as it didn't affect our performance. You know, the Thebian army's special forces, the Sacred Band of Thebes, purportedly consisted of 150 couples, the rationale being that lovers could fight more consistently and fiercely together than unattached strangers.”
“Huh. And how'd that turn out?”
“Well, they played a crucial role in the Battle of Leuctra, but were eventually wiped out by Alexander the Great.”
“Oh.”
A pause, then:
“It's against the rules.”
“From what I hear, that's mostly your fault.”
We lapse into silence, and I nip lightly at his shoulder, loving the way he squirms.
We're both shocked by the knock on the door.
“Alright, boys, it's time to go home, so tuck away your naughty bits and come on out.” Prentiss sounds far too happy.
Nevertheless, we do as she says. It takes two attempts to button up Rossi's shirt properly, and by the time we walk out of the room, I'm cringing at the feeling of cold come in my briefs. JJ snorts and shakes her head as I walk past her. Prentiss looks at me, a frightening gleam in her eye. She's holding her phone, and it's faint but I'm nearly positive that I can hear Garcia's muffled laughter through the speaker.
“So, Reid--” I cut her off.
“Nope. You aren't getting a single detail.”
“Oh, so something interesting did happen?”
Rossi chooses that moment to interrupt. “Reid, you want a ride?”
With as much dignity as I can muster, I look up. He looks me in the eye and grins. I can't help but grin back. “Sounds good.”
Hmm, I think I may owe Emily lunch.
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Rating: R(?)
Pairing: Reid/Rossi
A/N: My first fic for this fandom. Written at 3 am, unbeta'd, and written under the influence. Not quite 2K. This was nothing more than an excuse to write smut.
ETA: Info on the Sacred Band paraphrased from Wikipedia. The "shag/marry/push off a cliff" thing was inspired by another fic where that game was played (I think it was a Morgan/Reid fic, but I'm not sure.)
Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds or anything therein.
Really, I blame Prentiss for this entire situation. Without her "help," I probably wouldn't be here, pressed against his back, rubbing myself off against his ass as my hand presses against his burgeoning erection...
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Rewind to three hours ago. JJ and Garcia managed to get us a week off after an especially brutal case-- a butcher who killed and carved up young men in their cars. Normally, I'd be in Vegas by now to visit my mom, but they just started her on a new drug regiment, and her doctor suggested that I wait a few days to see how she reacts. Thus, when Prentiss decided she wanted to go out for drinks, I was available. Or at least in town, which seems to be the sole criterion by which she judges availability.
I wasn't the only one she dragged out. Morgan was in Chicago, and Hotch was attempting to spend every waking moment with his son, but Garcia and Kevin made it out, while JJ promised to drop by at some point. Rossi begged off, for which I was grateful as I didn't trust myself to not to embarrass myself in front of him. I admit to a certain amount of jealousy as well, because, well, Prentiss and Garcia can be scary when they drink.
It took three drinks before the topic turned to our absent team mates. Kevin and I shared looks of horror when the women began assigning ratings to them out of ten, though assuredly for different reasons. Kevin knows that Garcia is attracted to him, but it's still obviously painful for him to hear his girlfriend expound on the planes of Derek Morgan's posterior in detail which speaks of very attentive study of his-- ahem-- assets.
On the other hand, well, life on the road doesn't leave much room for modesty. Having shared close quarters with each of my team mates, I've done my best to avoid those types of thoughts. I haven't always been successful.
I was halfway through drink number four when it happened.
“Hey JJ! So Rossi: Shag, marry, or push off a cliff?” Prentiss waved her over as she yelled, gesturing for me to grab an empty chair from the next table. I complied, as it allowed me to hide my face, which I'm sure must have been a brilliant shade of crimson. “Difficult choice. Can I shag him, then throw him off a cliff?” The two other women snickered.
“Well, it doesn't look like it matters anyway, since I'm pretty sure his attention is focused elsewhere,” Prentiss half-whispered, practically leering at me. I tried futilely to hide behind my drink. Did I mention that my team mates can be scary when they drink?
JJ, the kind, caring soul that she is, took one look at my face and changed the subject. By them though, I was no longer following the conversation, my mind circling Prentiss' statement. Was that look intentionally directed at me? If so, why? Had she seen something in my actions? Was she trying to tell me that I'd never have a chance? Or, could she be saying that--
Am I the one he's been focused on?
“Reid! Hey, wake up kiddo!” Garcia was snapping her fingers in front of my face as she called my name.
“Erm, sorry. I just-- I mean I was-- um--”
“Yeah, I figured.”
“Um, well, I think I've had enough for one night,” I said as I climbed to my feet. I staggered slightly, prompting JJ to tell me that she was giving me a ride home. My scowl deepened as Prentiss interrupted. “Are you headed past HQ, by any chance? I need to grab something from my desk.” As it happens, JJ was indeed headed past the BAU headquarters, and in fact, she needed to pick up something from her desk as well. Funny how that happens.
It's all a conspiracy, I swear.
In any case, we poured ourselves into JJ's car, and off we went to headquarters. For some reason, Prentiss felt the need to constantly bring up Rossi's name. By the time JJ had parked, I was attempting to block out Prentiss' words by mentally reciting the last half a dozen books I'd read. It didn't help, though once she waved JJ on, saying that she'd catch up with her in a few minutes.
“So, what amazing things are going on inside that head of yours,” she asked, sounding almost... concerned?
“I was just considering the Machiavellian elements present in--”
“Reid? Stop. You know what I'm talking about.”
“No, I don't. I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. There's nothing to talk about.”
“Reid, I've lost count of the number of times I've caught you watching him.”
The temptation to make a snide remark was overwhelming, but I couldn't find the words. Strange how an IQ of 187 can fail at the most inconvenient of times. She didn't give me time to gather myself, however, but rather barreled on.
“I've seen him watching you, too.”
My breath caught.
“So, I'm headed upstairs, if you'd like to keep me company.” I started to decline, but, thinking back to the previous case, I decided I might as well walk her up.
So we got upstairs, and I walked straight to the coffee pot. Perhaps it will help me sober up enough that JJ will relent and allow me to take the Metro home. I wasn't particularly paying attention to where I was going, having seen the only two people I expected to be in the office, which turned out to be a big mistake as walked straight into a door...
Strange, that wasn't open a second ago.
Holding my nose, I looked up... straight into the eyes of the object of my affection.
Like I said, a conspiracy.
Rossi looked horrified as blood dripped down my face from my damaged nose. He grabbed my arm and pulled me into his office, handing me a box of tissues to staunch the flow. I sat down and leaned forward, willing the bleeding to stop soon.
“Spe-- Reid-- I'm sorry--” At any other time, I'd give anything to see him stammer like this, to see proof that he's just as capable of becoming flustered and babbling as I am, but right then I was mortified.
We sat in awkward silence for a few minutes; Prentiss' words echoing through my mind as I tried not to stare at him.
Finally, he walked up to me began inspecting my face. “Well, it's going to be a bit swollen, but I don't think you did any major damage,” he pronounced. But still, he didn't move away. I stared back at him, and with all the courage four drinks could bestow on me, closed the distance between our lips.
He froze momentarily, and I nearly pulled back before I felt him react. Arms reached around me as his lips began to move as a counterpoint to mine. All too soon, though, he pulled back.
“I'll go lock the door.” He had barely gotten it closed, however, before I pressed against his back, pressing kisses to his neck. I scraped my teeth against his earlobe and nearly crowed in triumph when I pulled a moan out of him.
“You know, we-- ah-- shouldn't. Fraternization policies-- oh-- and all” he protested weakly even as he turned his head to capture my lips.
“Overthinking things is my job, not yours,” I muttered. My hands moved almost automatically; one hand unfastened his shirt buttons as quickly as possible while the other caressed the bulge growing in his jeans. He groans and presses his ass harder against my own erection, and I couldn't stop the curses that were falling from my lips.
Aaaand... we're back to where you came in.
My fingers fumble with his belt buckle, but after what feels like an eternity, I manage to get it undone. He takes care of the button on his jeans for me, and all that's left is for me to reach into his boxers and grasp his cock. I'm grinding against his ass as I stroke him with my left hand. My right hand has made it into his shirt now and I grin at the hiss he lets out when I pinch a nipple. His head falls back against my shoulder, and I attack his neck with my lips and teeth and tongue, reveling in every sound of pleasure I draw from him. Finally I move back to his lips, and the only thing I'm capable of is reacting to the taste of him, and the smell of him, and the feel of him.
He yelps as he comes, sounding almost shocked. I want to snicker at the sound, but suddenly he bites my lip and presses back against my groin hard, and everything goes gray as I come in my pants. We lean against the door, my head resting against his shoulder. He turns his head and looks at me, face contorted with an incomprehensible expression.
“This is a bad idea.”
“Probably,” I murmur, pressing my lips against the juncture of his neck and shoulder. His shirt is slipping down his shoulder, and his tie had been pulled off at some point-- he must have done that, since I don't remember doing it-- and I lazily stick out my tongue and lick his neck. Hmm, Salty. He makes this little breathy noise, sounding almost like a kitten, and I can't help it-- I laugh.
“There's no way we can keep this from the team.”
“We've got a moratorium on profiling the team.”
“It's not something you can just turn off, kid.”
“I don't think anyone on the team would really care, as long as it didn't affect our performance. You know, the Thebian army's special forces, the Sacred Band of Thebes, purportedly consisted of 150 couples, the rationale being that lovers could fight more consistently and fiercely together than unattached strangers.”
“Huh. And how'd that turn out?”
“Well, they played a crucial role in the Battle of Leuctra, but were eventually wiped out by Alexander the Great.”
“Oh.”
A pause, then:
“It's against the rules.”
“From what I hear, that's mostly your fault.”
We lapse into silence, and I nip lightly at his shoulder, loving the way he squirms.
We're both shocked by the knock on the door.
“Alright, boys, it's time to go home, so tuck away your naughty bits and come on out.” Prentiss sounds far too happy.
Nevertheless, we do as she says. It takes two attempts to button up Rossi's shirt properly, and by the time we walk out of the room, I'm cringing at the feeling of cold come in my briefs. JJ snorts and shakes her head as I walk past her. Prentiss looks at me, a frightening gleam in her eye. She's holding her phone, and it's faint but I'm nearly positive that I can hear Garcia's muffled laughter through the speaker.
“So, Reid--” I cut her off.
“Nope. You aren't getting a single detail.”
“Oh, so something interesting did happen?”
Rossi chooses that moment to interrupt. “Reid, you want a ride?”
With as much dignity as I can muster, I look up. He looks me in the eye and grins. I can't help but grin back. “Sounds good.”
Hmm, I think I may owe Emily lunch.