Title: Sleepless
Author: Sam
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Gideon/Reid
Rating: FRAO
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money made.
Warnings: Slash, language, kink - exhibitionism, voyeurism, masturbation.
Betas: Pippin and Allie - thank you!! All remaining mistakes are mine mine mine...
Summary: Spencer can't sleep.

***

Staring up at yet another bland hotel ceiling that he couldn't actually see in the middle of the night while trying to get at least a few hours of sleep was apparently becoming a habit. He was pretty sure that four cities in a row would constitute enough of a pattern to be considered 'habit'.

Tossing and shuffling around onto his side, his back to the room, Spencer tried to stifle the frustrated burst of irritation as best he could. Gideon was sleeping soundly in the other bed and Spencer didn't want to wake him. One of them at least should get some sleep tonight. Because, apparently, it wasn't going to be him.

It had been a long day working with local law enforcement officials and going through the initial case reports, so he should be tired. He was tired; he just couldn't sleep.

He had tried everything he could think of; gone over everything he had ever known about insomnia and how to work past it, but nothing helped. He had tried counting sheep, tried relaxing every part of his body, one muscle at a time, tried rereading the Iliad verbatim in his head...even warm milk before bed. Nothing seemed to work.

He was still wide awake and if he wanted to be on his toes for the case briefing in the morning, he at least needed to be able to say he had caught an hour or two of rest.

If he were at home, he knew what he would have done. He would have gotten out his toys, maybe a dildo or plug or something and worked himself into a state of exhausted bliss. Just because he didn't date - much - didn't mean he was a prude. Or didn't know anything about sex or the varying practices thereof; like toys and what felt good where.

Needless to say he couldn't exactly do that here. Not with Gideon just a few feet away. Even if Spencer did occasionally catch a snore or two coming from the bed every few minutes.

It was true he couldn't work himself as thoroughly as he wanted but...maybe...just maybe if he were quiet he could get himself off enough so  that he could get some sleep.

He didn't want to do it in the bathroom - the eye-blinding glare of the fluorescent lighting itself would be enough to guarantee that any drowsy effects of orgasm would be wiped out by the brain-frying wattage alone. So the bathroom was out. Besides, he really didn't want to move.

And there was just something illicit about the idea of touching himself while not being alone in the room...

Carefully turning over onto his back, Spencer darted a look over to the other bed. It looked as if Gideon was still sleeping, though he had turned  more fully onto his side, now facing Spencer. A sudden image of those eyes opening to watch him startled him and he felt himself getting hard. The sudden jolt of electric thrill that came with the realization that Spencer actually wanted Gideon to see him in the throes of pleasure - see him getting off - was enough to make him dizzy.

Where the hell did that come from??

For a long moment Spencer did nothing, only lie there staring at the ceiling while the room spun around the sharp axis that was his lust-fogged mind.

He couldn't do that, could he? Touch himself under the cover of darkness and thin hotel blankets while Gideon slept? It wasn't as if Gideon would actually be watching him...Gideon was asleep...

But what if he woke up?

What if he was awake now?

An involuntary groan had Spencer's hand diving under the covers and into his pajama bottoms despite, or maybe because of, the danger. The first grazing touch of his fingers sent lightning whipping through him, every nerve sensitized and on fire with need. Biting his lip with the need to keep quiet, Spencer couldn't stop his hips from lifting just a bit off of the bed; couldn't stop his feet from planting themselves to give his body the leverage it needed to move. All at the thought that his boss may be watching.

An automatic, guilty glance shot out to the other bed. Gideon was still sleeping.

And Spencer realized he really wanted him to wake up.

When he pulled a couple more times on his cock and nothing happened, Spencer was both terrified and feeling bold and a little reckless. The heady mix was intoxicating. When another furtive peek revealed nothing new, he tossed off the covers, leaving only his pajamas in the way of baring what he was doing to the room. Not that anyone who - say - just happened to wake up and look over at him at that moment wouldn't know exactly what it was Spencer was doing, even in the mostly dark cave of the hotel room...because they would.

That thought just made Spencer pull and twist harder.

What would Gideon see if he were to wake up now?

Suddenly an idea came to mind. It was suicide, it was insane...it was brilliant!

His hand pulling strongly, instead of keeping quiet, Spencer closed his eyes and made himself cut the small moan loose. Gasping as if he couldn't get enough air, enough friction, he followed the desperate sound with a needy groan of the older man's name.

"Jason...."

His head turning to the side as if in restless sleep, Spencer opened his eyes only a slit to avoid detection. Not nearly enough to see Gideon's reaction; only that the older man was indeed awake and turned in his direction. And that, his eyes wide open, Gideon had gone completely still.

Oh. God.

Another low groan bubbled its way out of his throat and over his lips. His body jerked of its own accord now, the hand frantically moving under the thin cotton pants making lewd tents in the material with every repetition of the suggestive motion.

Gideon was awake and hearing Spencer moan his name in the throes of sexual release. And he was just lying there, watching him...

What if - what if Gideon wanted to be the one touching him?

Spencer was losing himself to the moment now. Losing himself in the fantasy that the hand touching him, stroking him, frantically working to get him off wasn't his own. That it was Gideon's desire to see him lose control; urging him on. Was Gideon's hand that Spencer was driving into, his thumb, his fingers driving him mad.

On his own bed Spencer's back arched while his hips snapped and jerked, driving himself closer to the edge. He knew Gideon was still watching; he  could feel those dark eyes locked onto his body writhing against the bland, generic white hotel sheets. Burning him up in the dark. He could feel the heat of those eyes as the blood flushed his skin, sweat breaking out over him and he had to resist the sudden, irrational urge to hide. To turn away; forget the insanity of what he was doing and pretend to go back to sleep.

This - this was too much. Not enough. He didn't know. He couldn't get his mind to think past the energizing burn and tingling promise of pleasure wanting to rush through his veins. Should he turn away? Could he turn away?

But no, he couldn't, not now. Even if he wanted to, the need to come was too strong; its siren's song too sweet. He was so hard it hurt and he ached with desperate need to just *break*.

"...please...please..."

He bit his lip on the desperate pleas for Jason to do something, to let him come. Only allowing the most pathetic of whimpers to escape, Spencer discovered something new about himself.

He loves this.

Loves having Gideon's eyes on him as he performs for him. Touches himself for him. Lets go of all of the inhibitions and doubts and fears that make up Doctor Spencer Reid. Gideon didn't know that Spencer knew he was awake. What would happen if he did?

Would he stay over on his on bed and just watch? Or would he cross that line? Join Spencer in his?

Slowing himself down a bit, Spencer kept his eyes closed and gasped for breath, imagining it. Would Jason touch him? Bat his own hand away and not let Spencer have his release? Would he order Spencer not to touch himself without Gideon's permission? Would he give it or demand Spencer suffer for teasing him from afar?

Would he touch him? Would he even want to? And would it be soft and sweet? Or would it be hard and brutal and everything Spencer never knew he needed?

That dark, sinful image flooded through his brain, snapping his hips down and up sharply and suddenly Spencer was coming hard against his will, a desperate cry of Gideon's name on his lips.

While his head stopped spinning and the world outside of his skin once more settled down around him, Spencer lay there panting in the otherwise silent darkness. Listening to the air conditioner come on and begin to drown out the evidence of his still racing heart, he strained his ears in the darkness, but could hear nothing beyond his own bed.

He was too afraid of what he would find to open his eyes.

That was, until the unit turned off again and the faint - and not so faint - sounds of skin sliding wet and slick on skin and soft gasps could be heard coming from the other bed.

Turning his head just enough to confirm what he thought he was hearing, Spencer nevertheless found himself caught by Gideon's eyes, opened and locked onto his. Waiting for him.

Shuffling around to curl up on his side, facing the other bed outright, brought only another groan from Gideon's lips, obscenely loud in the silence when Spencer didn't look away; the hand that moved in the older man's pajamas pistoning back and forth under the light cotton.

A smile curved Spencer's lips and he settled back into his cocoon of covers, licking the taste of himself off of his fingers. Apparently it was his turn to watch.


end