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A/N: Omgz! I'm back :D haha.
So, just a few quick “announcements” about this fic. I’m not sure if I can fully call it a “Porn without Plot,” but it’s pretty darn close, haha! I also don’t consider myself a “Romance” writer, so if that’s your sole purpose for reading this fic your needs may not be met. This story is going to have some kink-exploration (although I guess we all define ‘kink’ subjectively, in any case, so it may be totally "vanilla" to you! :P). I also wanted to try pushing the envelope a little bit here, some of which involves the fact that this “relationship” is going to have Dom/Sub undertones. I will unabashedly say I am not well-versed (or even moderately-versed) on the topic of the Dom/Sub dynamic, so I’m using the term loosely. In this fic it’ll mean: Derek likes to tell his partners what to do, and he gets a thrill from being obeyed. Spencer (discovers that he) likes to be told what to do, and gets excited by following orders. Cue kinky s^&*. XD
Also, it should be clear from the description that the focus of this fic is going to be on an online relationship. There’s not going to be anonymity or anything like that, but Spencer and Derek will NOT meet until the very end of the story. This is not a “spoiler,” it’s a guarantee, haha. Just want to make sure we’re all on the same page here ;p.
I’m pretty excited about this fic, so I hope you guys are too!
Spencer Reid held his breath as he opened his mailbox with trepidation. For the last two days he had been incessantly checking his mail, in the hopes that he would miraculously receive the letter he had been waiting months for. Today, when he opened his mailbox, his heartrate sped up as he saw a simple white business-sized envelope. Quickly pulling the mailing out of the small box, Spencer’s eyes widened as he read the name of the sender: Federal Bureau of Investigation.
Swallowing nervously, Spencer quickly, yet carefully, tore the envelope open. Scanning the words on the page quickly (and quickly was an understatement for someone who could read 20,000 words per minute), Spencer couldn’t help the grin that broke out on his face.
Accepted!!
The letter had said he had been accepted. Amongst all the ‘congratulations’ and the numerous reiterations of ‘we are pleased to inform you,’ Spencer saw his dream starting to take shape. He had been accepted into the FBI, and he was set to begin boot camp training at the Academy in three months.
Gripping the letter to his chest as he quickly began walking away from the mailboxes and heading towards his lab meeting, Spencer couldn’t believe how lucky he had been. He was 21 years old and almost done with his third doctorate. But even with that, he knew it was extremely rare for someone his age to be accepted into the FBI. If it had not been for the insistence of Agent Jason Gideon, who he had met during one of the FBI’s recruitment events that Spencer had attended on a whim, he was sure he never would have even gotten an interview. But, Gideon had apparently called in some favors, and pulled some strings, and the next thing Spencer knew he was being offered an interview. After that, everything was a blur.
Walking into the meeting room, the other doctoral candidates in his lab looked up at him, surprised by his tardiness.
“You’re… smiling,” Mackenzie, a fourth-year student with pretty brown eyes and black hair, said as she looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
“That’s rare,” Bryan, the lab’s other fifth year student said as he laughed good-naturedly. As always, Bryan’s cheeks were dimpled and his blue eyes were sparkling.
Spencer couldn’t help the small blush that rose to his cheeks at his cohort’s teasing. He wasn’t very social, in general, but he had definitely become somewhat friendly with the other students in his lab. And he wanted to share this good news with them.
“Well… I have some exciting news,” he said shyly.
“Ooh! Well, do tell!” Lizzie, a second-year with bright curly red hair and an even brighter personality, said excitedly.
“I just got a letter telling me I’ve been accepted to work at the FBI following graduation,” Spencer announced quietly as he glanced down at his feet.
Gasps and congratulations erupted from the occupants in the room. And Spencer was almost overwhelmed by their effusiveness.
“Wow! That’s insane,” Bryan said as he immediately got up and patted Spencer on the shoulder. “We’re so happy for you.”
“Spencer, we didn’t even know you were applying!” Mackenzie said as she gave him a mock glare. “The FBI, though? That’s really big news. And… wow. Just wow. Never thought you’d be the ‘law enforcement’ type.”
Hearing that, Spencer flinched and hesitantly looked up from his feet to see that she was smiling at him. Her statement hadn’t been derisive, as he had first feared. Spencer had always worried that, if he did get in, he would be teased that he wasn’t the “type” of person who could make it in the FBI; that he wouldn’t be able to keep up, or compete, whether physically or professionally. It wasn’t like Spencer didn’t know (statistically) the type of people who usually gravitated to roles in law enforcement. Alpha males. Type-A personalities. Go-getters.
But, Spencer wasn’t interested in the FBI because he wanted to shoot a gun or tackle suspects. He wanted to put his knowledge to use. And he wanted to do that in a way that would help people. He had been assured by Agent Gideon that the FBI would appreciate—and needed—a person with his skills.
“I… I really didn’t think I’d end up someplace like that either, but… Well, I met an agent during an on-campus information session about a year ago and he started talking to me and, well… he made me see that there could be a place for me there. You know… to um, help people,” Spencer told her, stumbling over his words somewhat.
“No, I totally get that,” Mackenzie said as she patted his shoulder and looked up at him, smiling sweetly. “I think they will be proud to add you to their ranks, Spencer.”
Spencer smiled back at her. His attention, however, was interrupted when he felt someone elbow him playfully in the ribs. Turning he glanced over at Lizzie’s smiling face.
“I’m really jealous, Spencer! It’ll be so exciting to move to the East Coast. Especially since you’ll be in such a great city. Do you know anybody over in the D.C. area?” she asked.
“Oh… No, I don’t,” Spencer said as he furrowed his brow, thinking about this for the first time.
“Hmm… it’s always hard moving to a new city. It’d be good if you could reach out to some people over there so you know someone by the time you get there,” she suggested.
Spencer frowned.
“How would I do that?” he asked.
“You could try to see if there are any meet-up sites for that area,” Bryan suggested, tentatively.
“Meet-ups?” Spencer asked, eyebrows furrowing again as if the words were foreign.
“Yeah,” Bryan said with a laugh. “They’re social events that cater to groups of people who have the same interests.”
It wasn’t lost on the three other graduate students how Spencer’s body had stiffened at the words ‘social events.’
“But,” Bryan continued as he tried to placate Spencer. “You wouldn’t be actually using the sites to ‘attend’ any events. Well, at least not yet, since you’ll still be here finishing up the program. The meet-up sites might help you just get in to contact with people who live in that area, and share your interests, and maybe after talking for a few months you’ll make some friends. In any case, you’ll feel like you know someone there before you get there. And hopefully you’ll want to hang out with them.”
Spencer looked unconvinced, but he couldn’t deny that there was a certain amount of practicality to Bryan’s proposal. Spencer was not necessarily a stranger to having to pick up and move to a new place. He had lived in Las Vegas all his life, and then had left for the first time when he was 12, to start college at CalTech. It had been a strange experience, but it was college, so it was normal for people to come from all walks of life and there were administrators in place to make the transition easier.
But he had never had to move for work purposes, and he wondered what it would be like transitioning to the work environment at the FBI. Spencer didn’t doubt that he would be qualified to stand amongst his colleagues, but would any of them actually want to talk to him?
Going back over in his mind all the facts he knew about the kinds of people who often worked in these types of government roles—confident, type A, and ambitious people—Spencer started to worry about how difficult it would be for him to make friends. Add to that the ‘young’ and ‘genius’ factor, and he was sure he would stand out like a sore thumb. He wondered if people still bullied each other at the professional level… He didn’t relish the idea of being all alone in a brand new city.
“So… um… how do I do it?” Spencer asked hesitantly.
Four hours later, following more congratulating from his friends, being forced to go out for ‘fro-yo’ after the lab meeting, and quickly calling his mom to tell her of his news (she had been having a ‘not-so-good’ day, and while she had congratulated him, she had warned him not to let the ‘government’ control him), Spencer tiredly walked into his small one-bedroom apartment. He was thankful that, with the help of grants he had won and prize money from competitions he had entered, he had been able to live on his own by the time he was 16.
Dorm living had always been… uncomfortable. Living with a roommate often got him into awkward situations where someone either wanted to take advantage of him (he was used to the old cliché of threatening the ‘nerd’ into doing your homework before he even got to college) or outright ignored his existence. In all situations, he had been called ‘weird’ more often than he could count. And Spencer was good at counting. The painful memory, however, reminded Spencer, again, of what he might face moving to D.C. It was taking the ‘excitement’ away from him in regard to this great new opportunity. He didn’t want to let anything ruin it.
So, with a sigh, Spencer sat down in front of his old desktop computer and pushed the ‘on’ button. Many of his ‘friends’ (and his friends nowadays mostly consisted of the other lab students and some professors he was particularly fond of), always griped to him about how ‘old-fashioned’ he was when it came to technology. Spencer had never purchased a laptop (he liked taking notes by hand, thank you very much), and the idea of a ‘smart phone’ horrified him. He had had the same sturdy flip-phone for the last 5 years. And the only reason he had had to replace the one he had gotten when he was getting ready to leave for college, almost 10 years ago, was because he accidentally dropped it while trying to juggle a tray of coffees on the way to lab, and then had stepped on it, decimating it. His friends, with their smartphones, had to get a new one every year.
‘Technology,’ Spencer thought to himself with a snort.
Sitting back as the computer worked to slowly bring itself back to life, Spencer thought worriedly about how quickly the next couple of months would pass. For the past ten years, Spencer had been ensconced in the walls of academia. And at the same school, no less. He had become comfortable, even a bit complacent. Spencer knew this place like the back of his hand. He had even been in the same apartment for almost six years. Nothing ever changed. Now, he would be moving across the country. He would have a ‘supervisor,’ and teammates. People would be relying on him. What if he messed up? Would there be anyone he could go to when he needed help?
With a sigh, he watched as his desktop loaded and he begrudgingly reached out to the mouse, moving it to the web-browser icon. At least I’ll have Agent Gideon, he thought dejectedly. But, he realized as he double-clicked, launching the browser, he couldn’t rely on Gideon forever. He would need to fend for himself. And this… this attempt to “socialize” and “meet people” was a bit step in that direction.
“What was it that Bryan said again…?” Spencer wondered to himself as his fingers hovered over the keyboard. “I need to find a ‘meeting place?’”
He quickly typed ‘D.C. meeting places’ into the Google bar, but frowned as he received quite run-of-the-mill results, most of them having to do with companies and businesses.
“Was it a…?” he trailed off as he nibbled on his bottom lip, trying to remember the evasive word. “What was it? ‘Hook-up’ site?”
Spencer almost groaned in frustration as he began to type, half-convinced he’d have similarly unhelpful results. He didn’t want to have to call Bryan just for something like this. Besides, he wasn’t sure he wanted Bryan to know he was even taking his advice. If it didn’t work out—as in, if Spencer was a big failure at socializing, even on the internet—he didn’t want his friends to know that about him.
But, then, after hitting ‘Enter’ his search results were flooded with numerous sites advertising ways to ‘meet’ people, and he knew he had been successful.
Clicking on the first site he saw, Spencer quickly scrolled down the page, clicking through all the ‘user-agreement’ red-tape. He was a bit put off by the ‘profiles’ he saw on the front page. It seemed that everyone was just using their profiles as an opportunity to display their best physical attributes. And he couldn’t understand all the pictures of girls in exaggerated poses, pursing their lips. Did they think that was attractive? Spencer had no idea what this had to do with meeting people with the same interests, but he figured he’d have to filter through the different groups until he found one that suited him.
But, first things first, Spencer had to make a ‘profile.’ It seemed the site required it before it would let him go any further. It had taken him quite a while to think up a username. He knew he should try to be clever, but Spencer also didn’t want to be too ‘weird’ and send any potential interested parties running, so he nixed the ‘Tardis-themed’ usernames from the beginning. Settling on something that he figured would describe him succinctly, he chose ‘Well-Read-Reid.’ Once the site accepted the username and informed him that no one else was currently using that name (Spencer was quite happy to see that), he was then instructed to ‘describe himself.’
After that, Spencer quickly filled out the text box, detailing his ‘interests’ (he had had quite a bit of fun doing that; he even threw in one of his favorite jokes). There were a few checkboxes that allowed him to describe his pastimes, political and religious affiliations, how far he had gotten in school, and even his favorite foods (coffee was definitely the first one he checked off). The site also asked him to specify what he was ‘looking for.’ The drop down for that category was pretty unspecific. Spencer thought he would be able to specify his personal academic or leisure interests, but it only had four options, so, shrugging, Spencer clicked ‘male-seeking-males.’ He was pretty comfortable around Mackenzie and Lizzie, but, that had taken quite a bit of time. In general, women made him nervous. He thought he would have better luck making friends with other guys at this early stage. At least it would be easier to talk to them.
The thing Spencer thought was most strange, however, was that that he had to describe his build, including height and weight, hair and eye-color, and ‘physique.’ He had no idea what that had to do with him wanting to find others in the area that enjoyed physics, or science museums, or, even, Doctor Who. But, he guessed maybe it would be relevant to someone who was a health-nut and was looking for a running partner. Bryan had said that these types of sites had very particular interest-groups and that there was, literally, something for everyone. Spencer frowned a bit as he checked off the boxes that related to his physical appearance. Seeing it laid out like that, he was reminded again that he was ‘too tall,’ and ‘too skinny.’ Shaking his head, he moved on.
He then obsessed a bit about the fact that they wanted him to post a picture. Spencer didn’t have very many pictures, and the few he did have, his friends had forced him to take. He didn’t think he was really much to look at, and he wondered if he posted an unflattering picture would it make someone less likely to want to talk to him? Flushing, he knew this was a silly thought. If someone was an intellectual, and looking to meet and speak with other intellectuals, they wouldn’t care that he was gangly and awkward. Well that’s what he hoped, at least.
Spencer really didn’t like the idea of ‘putting himself out there,’ especially on the internet. He didn’t know who the person on the other side was, and he knew, personally, people tended to be a lot meaner when they could do so anonymously. But, a picture was ‘required,’ so, gulping, he uploaded a picture that Mackenzie had sent to him a few months back. She had taken it during his last birthday, when his lab had ‘surprised’ him. Cringing, Spencer remembered that hours after the picture had been taken, he had had to be carted home by his friends, having felt the effects of his 21st birthday, and thus, his ‘first time drinking,’ a lot sooner than anyone had expected.
In the picture, he was smiling but he looked a little flummoxed, since he hadn’t been expecting the surprise, or the birthday cake that was sitting in front of him (Spencer had chosen to crop it out for the purpose of posting it to the site). But both Mackenzie and Lizzie had complimented the picture, telling him it really showcased the color of his eyes and hair, and that he, in their words, looked like an ‘adorable puppy.’ He had blushed when they had told him that, not used to getting compliments, and had decided to keep the picture, instead of deleting it. He didn’t necessarily want the other site members to think of him as a ‘puppy’ (he had found that term very strange when the girls had used it), but he just wanted them to think he looked nice. In the picture, he was wearing a dark-purple sweater and his black-framed glasses. He also thought that maybe, for once, he didn’t look like a teenager. Smiling slightly, Spencer clicked ‘done’ and uploaded his profile.
He was immediately taken to his account page, where, by briefly skimming the headings, he saw there were areas for ‘notifications’ of when others ‘liked’ his page; a place for him to keep track of his ‘favorites;’ and a mechanism for private messaging. Spencer doubted he’d have use for any of that at the moment. First, he had to find where he could go to start talking about the ‘meetings.’ The way Bryan had described it, it was like being surrounded by tons of people who all loved the same things you did. But Spencer was frustrated that he didn’t see any postings for ‘meetings,’ or even ‘groups.’ All he could see on the main page was line upon line of profiles. Was he expected to go through every profile to see if someone had something in common with him? That didn’t seem very efficient to Spencer at all.
Feeling hungry, and somewhat accomplished (he had created his first ‘profile’ on a social networking site!) and defeated (but how come he didn’t know how to use it?) at the same time, Spencer decided he would fix himself something to eat and return to the site after he had had a chance to rest a bit. It wasn’t like he had to master this immediately. He had more than three months before he would be in D.C., and, needless to say, he was suddenly hoping that time didn’t come very soon at all.
It was almost 10pm, and Spencer was already in his pajamas, rubbing his eyes tiredly, when he remembered to check the computer. Signing into his email, he was confused to see about 15 emails, ‘notifying’ him that he had messages from the site he had signed up on earlier.
That was peculiar to Spencer. He didn’t even get that many emails a day from school, and he was a 5th year graduate student who was in the process of completing his dissertation. Emails from his advisor, or other committee-members, were to be expected. This site, however, was a different story. When Spencer clicked on the first email, all he could see was that someone named “Punisher_69” had sent him a ‘private message,’ but he would have to go to the site to read it. Clicking through the remaining emails, he saw that all of them said the same thing; they were all just from different users.
Spencer didn’t know how to feel. On one hand, he had a strange warm feeling in his gut. He had never felt so… popular. On the other hand, he was pretty distrustful. He just didn’t believe that 15 complete strangers would all find him interesting enough to message, after his profile had been up for only about two hours. All Spencer could think was that something must be wrong. Maybe there had been some sort of glitch or something? But, Spencer, ever the ‘scientist,’ knew he needed to find out the answers for himself. So, with a shrug, he clicked the link which would take him back to the site.
As Spencer’s eyes began to quickly rove over the numerous messages, he felt his eyes widen and his face begin to burn with embarrassment. Spencer might not know much when it came to interpersonal interactions, but he knew enough to know that these messages were lewd. He couldn’t understand what he was reading, and why, of all things, these messages were being sent to him. The messages flooded Spencer’s mind, and he cringed as he read each one:
‘Cute pic, but I’d rather see a pic of your cock.’
‘Top or bottom? Because I’d sure love to top you.’
‘I love those pretty, cock-sucking lips. Can I see what you can do with them?’
‘Can’t wait to have you bent over, and begging for it.’
‘Do you like to be punished? Or do you want to be a good boy for Daddy?’
‘You’re a beautiful boy. Are you really 21? You look much younger (but I like that ;})’
‘What would it take to get you to come over to my place? I can pay. Anything.’
‘You’re so hot. I would do anything you ask me to. Make me your bitch.’
After having read the majority of the crude offers, Spencer was ready to shut down his computer and, quite honestly, set it on fire, when his eyes landed on the second-to-last message. Spencer, truthfully, hadn’t even wanted to read that far. But, with an innate ability to read so fast, his brain tended to read everything even when he wasn’t necessarily conscious that he was doing it. So, when his brain processed the words in the message from ‘DeManding,’ he had almost already made up his mind that he was going to leave that site and never come back. But he paused, and read the words again, a bit more slowly this time.
‘DeManding’ had written: ‘Hey Pretty Boy. You’re drop-dead gorgeous, do you know that? And I liked your joke about the existentialists and the lightbulb. Pretty, and smart, too? My lucky day ;P.’
Spencer hesitated. His hand poised on the mouse, hovering over the ‘x’ at the top of the browser, ready to close this site out and never return. But…The words in that message from ‘DeManding,’ whoever he was… they were… sweet. They made Spencer blush. And, not out of shameful embarrassment, like the other ones. But out of… flattery?
Spencer’s heart was pounding. He didn’t understand why he had gotten so many downright offensive messages. He was starting to think that maybe he had signed up for the wrong group. It couldn’t be just a coincidence that all the messages were of a… ‘sexual’ nature.
But, then there was the message from ‘DeManding.’ Yes, his message was similar in that he had ‘complimented’ him (if that’s what one could call what the men in the other messages were doing), but DeManding had not been… aggressive. And it had seemed that he had actually taken the time to go to Spencer’s profile, seeing as how he had commented on Spencer’s existentialists joke. None of the other men had even bothered to read his profile, it seemed. So, DeManding was something different. And Spencer felt that it would only be… proper if he did the man the same courtesy by checking out his profile.
While Spencer knew that he really had no business clicking on anything on this site (he was still quite shaken up by the messages he had just read), he also couldn’t explain the sense of anticipation he felt as his mouse hovered over DeManding’s icon. From what Spencer could see of the small image, it was a picture of the man taken so that it purposefully concealed most of his face, but showcased his body. All Spencer could see from the picture was endless, rich mocha skin and a wide grin with beautiful, straight white teeth, framed by a neatly-trimmed goatee. The man was wearing what looked to be some type of athletic tank, displaying his muscled arms, neck, and chest. He had tattoos on each of his biceps, and his biceps were huge. Spencer didn’t need to see his whole face to know that the man was probably ‘drop-dead gorgeous,’ as he had so casually called Spencer.
Sighing, Spencer clicked on the picture, wondering to himself what someone like that was doing calling him ‘pretty.’ He quickly scanned through the man’s profile. He was 29, lived in D.C., and, apparently had a dog named “Clooney.” He listed ‘working out’ as one of his top-three favorite pastimes (Spencer was not surprised). But he also listed reading (Spencer was surprised) and watching movies, with a particular interest in Sci-Fi.
Humming to himself, Spencer began to click through ‘DeManding’s’ pictures. The man still made sure to keep his face mostly covered (Spencer couldn’t help but wonder why that was), but all of his pictures made sure to show off his every amazing asset.
As Spencer flipped through them, one by one, he came across a picture of the man with his eyes squeezed tightly shut, a grin on his face, as a big dog licked his face. From the angle of the picture it seemed like he wanted the dog to be the focus of the picture more than anything else, and it was clear the man loved his pet. ‘
DeManding’ also had a picture of himself, taken from behind, where he looked to be on some running track in a park and was decked out, head to toe, in skintight, black, athletic Lycra. In the picture he was flexing, one arm raised above his head, the other curled at his side. Spencer could tell that the man was tall, with sculpted muscles that ran from head to toe. The tight material left little to the imagination and Spencer found himself pausing to look at it longer than he was exactly comfortable with admitting.
The last picture Spencer saw was of the man with a cap pulled down partway over his face, obscuring his eyes. Again, Spencer couldn’t help but be disappointed that he couldn’t see him more clearly, but he also couldn’t deny that it was a great picture. With the cap obscuring everything down to his nose, it forced all of Spencer’s focus on to the man’s lips, which were pulled up into a devilish smirk. It was… sexy, Spencer thought, with surprise, feeling his cheeks heat slightly.
Sitting back from the computer, and pondering his options for a moment, Spencer debated what he should do. He felt, for some reason, compelled to write back to DeManding. If only to thank him for the compliment, and for reading his profile. He didn’t feel that ‘compulsion’ to reply to any of the others who had messaged him. In fact, the only thing he felt compelled to do when it came to those messages was delete them. And that is exactly what he did, a feeling of immense satisfaction coming over him. The only message remaining now was the one from DeManding. Spencer stared at the screen, watching the seconds pass by, unsure of what he wanted to do, but fingers itching to do something.
Then, without letting himself think about it for one moment longer, Spencer double clicked on the ‘reply’ button, opening up a message. As the cursor blinked on the page, Spencer debated over what he should say. ‘DeManding’ hadn’t really given any impression of what he wanted from Spencer. Spencer had listed numerous interests in his profile, but other than commenting on Spencer’s sense of humor, the man hadn’t said much else. More than anything it sounded like he was… flirting.
Spencer flushed at the thought. It didn’t really make much sense. That a man—and a man like that, on top of everything else—would be flirting with him… Well, there was a high statistical probability that he was misinterpreting things. Big time. Maybe the man was just a secret philosophy buff? Spencer decided he would try to find out.
Choosing his words carefully, Spencer responded:
Well-Read-Reid: Thank you for the message. I’m glad you enjoyed the joke. Do you like philosophy?
Satisfied that his response was polite, and would set him on the right path to finding people who he could discuss his interests with (Spencer ignored the fact that he found ‘DeManding’ extremely attractive and that he was the complete polar opposite of anyone he had ever ‘hung out’ with, in his life), he logged off the site and shut down his computer. Heading to his bedroom, Spencer couldn’t help but smile a little as he thought about whether or not ‘DeManding’ would respond. As he climbed into bed and flicked off the lamp, all he could think was that he sure hoped he did.
The next morning, Spencer saw one message already waiting for him. It read:
DeManding has responded to your message: “No, but I like you ;).”
A/N: Whaa!! I’m gonna have so much fun writing this ;3.
With that said, I'd love to hear your thoughts and whether you are (or are not?) looking forward to seeing more of this fic. I have a few chapters already written, but probably won't post again for a week or two (it's exams time; what fun! --__--). However, your thoughts will let me know if I should spend my winter break working on this fic ;p. (Instead of doing research for my thesis D: D: D: D:) lol
xoxo