A/N: Finally off of summer hiatus! Thank God. Here, have 12.6 thousand words.
Love,
Blue
P.S. WARNING: Here be talk of kinky porn, actual porn, cheap jokes, and angry polysexual erasure conversations.
DOUBLE WARNING: There's a scene in here that had to be vastly cut to fit into the sex guidelines. The full 15k version of this chapter is on ArchiveOfOurOwn under the same name as this one. Keyword search: "Raising the Barre Tipping Pointe".
Raising the Barre 2: The Tipping Pointe
CHAPTER TWELVE: Who's Afraid of the Big "Bi" Wolf?
Dr. Spencer Reid highly dislikes video cameras.
He doesn't like anything about them; not their shape, nor their color, nor the way their bulbous dark eyes seem to always be watching him. He doesn't like pretending they're not there. He doesn't like posing, or smiling, or faking happiness for other people's enthusiasm. And yet, here he is, lying in bed and waking up in the morning with a large round lens staring him in the face.
The two had sent out for a video camera from one of the PAs right before leaving Fallon's studio. It was kind of dated and shaped funny and it cost a good $200, but it worked well and that's all that mattered to them. They can get the latest and greatest when they have more time and energy. The PA showed them how to work it and Derek took to it almost immediately.
All throughout the cab ride back to the hotel, Derek raised the camera to his eye and followed New York City out of the window through his lens. He turned it onto the driver and onto Spencer, catching movements and figuring out how to use it. Every time the camera turned on to Spencer, he passed up a pouty grimace. Derek laughed in the dark of the car. When he finally grasped the use of the camera, you couldn't get the damned thing out of his hand if you wanted to.
And Spencer wanted to desperately.
The dancer grew bored of it after a few minutes and within the hour, he flat out wanted it gone.
Thus, how Derek learned of Spencer's intricate, detailed dislike of video cameras.
Derek knows that by positioning the camera this way at this hour in the morning, the chances he'll get slapped into another nationality by his sexy, topless boyfriend are very high. He just doesn't care. This video is art, okay? This is for the people. Derek will take one for the team because, as an ex-professional quarterback, he's not new to the concept.
Spencer closed his eyes and let out a lazy growl from the back of his throat as he muttered in his scratchy morning voice, "Derek, if you don't get that thing out of my face right now, I will make damn sure you regret it."
"Well, good morning to you too, beautiful." Derek started to laugh and sat up in the hotel bed with a giant grin on his face.
Spencer murmured into the pillow, "I… hate…you…"
"So damned sexy, baby," Derek followed Spencer's sheet sheathed body with the cameras lens and smiled as he marveled at how well his boyfriend photographed. There wasn't much light outside yet, but of the light that had peeked up through the horizon came through the blinds in a way that cut up the sunlight on Spencer's face in sharp lines. Porcelain skin, soft lips, sleep warmed cheeks. He was gorgeous.
Spencer opened his warm brown eyes into slits and glared at Derek, "Dude, I'm not kidding. I don't want to have to suffocate you with this pillow. I will. But I don't want to have to, you understand?"
Derek shrugged, gazing at him through the camera, "Oh. I'm so scared."
"Fuckin' should be," Spencer closed his eyes, "What time is it?"
Derek paused and glanced behind him to the bedside table, "5:31 in the morning."
Spencer groaned, turning into the pillow and mumbling, "Why are you even up right now? GMA doesn't need us until 8:15."
Derek laughed and joked, "Well, the sky's awake, so I'm awake."
Spencer muttered, "It's still dark outside. The sky isn't awake, you just wanted to quote Frozen."
Derek steadied the camera and zoomed in on his boyfriend's mussed curls, "What do you mean? I've never seen that movie in my life. I'm a grown ass man. I don't have time for little kids' crap."
Spencer started to laugh against the pillow, "We freakin' watched it together on Friday! You screeched along to like every song! You're so full of it!"
Derek chuckled, "Lies. Lies and slander."
Spencer sat up and tossed the fluffy white pillow at Derek's face as he laughed out, "I'm not lying." As Derek shook his head adamantly, Spencer gave him a knowing smile, "Don't try that 'Disney is beneath my football bravado' crap with me. You sang 'Let It Go' in the shower last night, you dick."
Derek snickered out, holding the camera up to Spencer's face, "Ooh? We talking about dicks now? Me likey."
"What?" Spencer folded his arms, swathed in an unbuttoned big blue plaid flannel, "Please. You just woke me up—quite rudely, if I might add—I'm not even remotely in the mood."
Derek added, "Baby. How? You're always in the mood. A friggen bus drives by and you're like, 'Derek, I'm so horny right now'."
"I have never said that to you! Shut the fuck up!" Spencer let out a soundless laugh and pushed at Derek's bare chest before grabbing the camera from him. It looked big in his slender hands. He struggled for a moment with it, mumbling to himself as he fiddled with the focus and resolution before finding something he could work with, little pink tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth. Suddenly, he leaned back and held the camera at eye level, grinning, "Whoa, this side of the camera is a bit more fun. Ooh! What does this button do?"
Derek cocked his head to the side and tried to glance around the camera to figure out what his boyfriend was talking about. Spencer made a face and moved the camera away from him, "I don't need your help. I've got it—whoa! Everything's in black and white! Make it stop! I don't like it!"
"'I don't need your help. I've got it'," Derek mocked as he grabbed the camera from Spencer and took away the filter application before handing it back to him, "Here. You're welcome."
"Thanks." Spencer took the camera and let the lens trail down Derek's bare chested body, "... whoa. Holy sexy filter, Batman."
Derek replied jokingly, "Oh, there is no filter. I'm just naturally that hot."
Spencer laughed back, "I mean it. You look so good through the camera's resolution. I can't even see your crows feet and age lines in this light."
Derek made a noise of distaste and made a teasing swipe at Spencer as the dancer laughed and pulled the camera out of his reach. The two tumbled to the bed and Derek pinned his arms down. The camera fell to the wayside and Spencer looked up at Derek through his eyelashes, large brown eyes full of curiosity and challenge and excitement. Derek leaned in until his nose was mere breaths away from Spencer's, "What did you just say about my face wrinkles?"
Spencer grinned, "I called them out. What are you going to do about it?"
Derek added, "That's for me to know and for you to find out, bitch."
Spencer raised an eyebrow and ran a finger down Derek's bare chest, "…you know what it does to me when you call me that."
Derek gripped Spencer's waist in his hand, the strong core and tight muscles lying sternly under creamy pale skin. He lowered himself to Spencer's ear and started kissing softly at the skin behind it. He kissed and nipped his way across the bottom Spencer's stubbled jaw, sucking under the juncture of his neck before leaning up to the edge of his ear, "You want me to call you a bitch? Huh? You like it? Does it turn you on when I speak to you like that?"
He felt Spencer's back shudder with want and chuckled deeply as Spencer nodded out with a soft whisper, "Mmm, yeah."
"That's because you are my bitch. You're my little slutty dancer." Derek watched greedily as the edge of Spencer's mouth tipped up with a puff of breath and a soft moan of appreciation. He nodded and closed his eyes, puffy pink lip trapped in between his teeth while Derek continued to toy with his earlobe and whisper out darkly, "You do that dirty stuff just for me, huh? You move all sexy like that just for me? Yeah, that's right. My bitch. You're mine. You're fuckin' mine, you hear me? If anyone else touches you, they'll have to answer to me. If anyone else even looks at you like they want you, I'm going to pick you up and claim you right in front of them. I swear I will. You think I'm playing?"
Spencer breathed out from underneath him, lips parted in lust, "No."
Derek nipped Spencer's neck once more before asking, "Want me to mark you up? Make your milky skin all black and blue? Tell everybody what you did and who you did it with? Show everybody what a little slut you are?"
Spencer panted and nodded his head, "Yes. Yes… please, do it. Please."
Derek let out a dark grin, "So fucking sexy when you beg for it like that. I don't know if I should give in."
Spencer reached around and clutched at the back of Derek's neck, "Please. Please touch me, please. I need you."
Derek snickered coyly, "Please, who?"
Spencer breathed out, "Please, sir."
"There we go," Derek started kissing at Spencer's neck once more, sucking lightly at the pressure point at the juncture of it, "I almost thought I had to spank you. Turn that round, pale ass red before I fuck it into the mattress."
Spencer whimpered out, "Oh, shit, baby… yeah."
Derek started mouthing his way down Spencer's chest with a soft voice, "How high are those heels you've got at home, bitch?"
Spencer answered immediately, "Six inches, sir."
Derek pressed kiss after kiss to Spencer's sensitive skin, raising his thumbs to rub against his broad shoulders, "They probably look sexy as hell on you. Can't wait to tie you to the headboard, rip your clothes off, and fuck you illiterate in them. What color are they?"
Spencer's voice quivered as Derek wrapped his lips around his right nipple and sucked, "Red. Jimmy Choos with straps up the ankles and a stiletto heel. I also have a pair of black Louboutins."
"Wait, wait, wait. Pause," Derek pulled his head from Spencer's chest and broke their play banter to add seriously, "You actually have a pair of red bottoms? Jeez. Do they even make them in your size?"
Spencer scoffed, "Yes. Now keep dirty talking to me. It was just getting good."
Derek shook his head, "No, no. I want to hear this. You've got some big ass feet, man. How the hell do Louboutins even run that high?"
Giving back a flat look, Spencer sighed and rolled his eyes, "I put in a special order online, okay? And I know the shoes make me like 6'7'', but they look so good on. There's a bow at the ankle and the stiletto heel has a gold sword on it with a snake wrapped all around. They're so cool."
Derek asked, "You going to strip for me in them?"
Spencer started to smile, "Depends. Are you going to rough me up in them?"
"Oh, hell yeah. I'm going to break them hips back in one way or another. When was the last time someone fucked you like I'm planning on fucking you, huh?" Derek continued his regimented line of kisses down Spencer's chest, reaching the delicate spot on his hips before sucking gently on the skin.
Spencer breathed with a light moan on the end of his words, "…never."
Derek's head popped up once more, "So, you mean to tell me nobody's ever screwed you stupid in a disgustingly expensive pair of shoes?"
Spencer shook his head, "You're the only one I've ever told about the heels, so… yeah. Nobody."
Derek cheered, raising a fist to the sky, "I'm about to rock your fucking world, buddy. Did you bring them with you?"
Spencer opened his eyes, sighing, "No. I didn't want to get caught up in claims and explain why a grown man is traveling with a pair of size 15 women's shoes and a tube of MAC."
Derek shrugged, "Just tell them you're a drag queen."
"Are you kidding me?" Spencer replied, "No one would believe that."
Derek rolled his eyes, "Dude, you have long eyelashes, high cheekbones, and shake your ass like Shakira for a living. Everyone would believe that."
Spencer let out a sharp laugh before adding, "Yeah, because I'm the very picture of femininity."
"I wouldn't go that far. You've got that sharp-ass jawline... that sexy stubble under your chin right here..." Derek nipped at the rough skin above Spencer's neck, "... those big hands of yours, Jesus," Derek pulled up his boyfriend's pyjama bottoms with a teasing finger, "And your long fucking mile-high leg—" he let his hand trail up the skin of his pale shin and paused after a brief moment, locking eyes with Spencer, "Dude… did you wax your legs?"
Spencer opened his mouth and closed it wordlessly, hand pushing through his hair tellingly, "I got bored yesterday."
Derek raised an eyebrow cautiously, "You ripped hair off of your body. Because you were... bored."
Spencer muttered under his breath and lost connection with Derek's eyes, "It's no big deal, okay? Just drop it."
"Fine, whatever," Derek gave him one more once over before lowering his hand to rest gently on the arch of his boyfriend's socked foot before hearing a sharp whimper of pain. He jerked his hand back from Spencer's foot like it was on fire and asked worriedly, "What's wrong?! Are you okay?! Where does it hurt?"
Spencer looked away from Derek guiltily, "Nothing."
Derek let out a confused sigh, "You sounded like you were in pain. Did I grab your foot too rough or..."
Spencer held his breath, "No, no. It's not you. I just… danced too hard in professional's rehearsal yesterday and landed on it funny, okay? It's no big deal."
Derek shook his head, "You can't accidentally land on the arch of your foot, with the way the bones are naturally set and the strength in your intermuscular tendons from years of regimented dance training it's a physical impossibility. You can sprain or pull the tendon, by landing on other areas of your foot but that's about it."
Spencer hissed, "How come you know so much about foot bones anyway?!"
Derek hissed back, "I was a Sports Therapy major and graduated top of my class. I may not know how to solve complex differential equations, but I know that you can only fuck up your feet but so much while dancing. If you'd said your ankle or your knee, I might have believed you! I'm not an idiot, okay?! I can tell you're not being honest with me!"
Spencer grew very quiet and folded his arms, "...so?"
Derek stared back at Spencer persistently, "So, you're just not going to tell me what's up with you?"
Spencer answered, "No, I'm not."
"Fine, whatever," Derek grimaced and rolled off of his boyfriend, shaking his head and crawling over to the edge of the bed to pinch at his temples as he scoffed out roughly, "I'm not feeling it anymore. I'm going to go take a shower."
He could hear Spencer's breath behind him catching as his boyfriend called his name, "Derek, come on—" Spencer's arms wrapped around Derek's body, large, soft hands running slowly across his chest as he kissed at his boyfriend's neck gently, "I can make sure you feel it again…"
Derek stood up quickly and turned to him, cat-like eyes sharply calculating, "Don't start with the eyes and the voice right now, okay? I know what you're trying to do and I'm not going to forget this if you bat your eyelashes long enough. You're hiding something from me, man. You've been hiding something from me all week with Kym's professional's rehearsal. And, I'll tell you right now; I don't know nor care what it is and nine times out of ten... whatever you're not telling me won't change the way I look at you. It's the fact that you can't trust me that I can't stand. It used to hurt, but now it just pisses me off. After all this, you're still coming at me with the lies and crap, I mean... why? Who am I going to tell?"
"It's not about telling, Derek," Spencer said lowly, glancing up to gaze into Derek's eyes, "I just..."
Derek finished for him, "Let me guess, you can't."
Spencer got quiet and shifted his gaze back to the bed sheets.
Derek scoffed, "Of course. Well, I'll be in the bathroom while you figure out what to say next." He pulled his sweatpants up and walked around the bed, striding into the bathroom moodily. Clicking on the light beside him before closing the door a little bit harder than necessary, Derek immediately felt bad for what he said. He doesn't even know why he feels this way. Spencer lied to him all week, hid things from him... he should be furious. But, for some reason, Derek is just disappointed. He thought they'd worked past this, but apparently Spencer's fear of trust and commitment and Derek's pattern of leaving the man he loved naked in bed is a match made in Heaven.
He ran a hand over his bald head before looking into the mirror before him and asking what the big deal was. It was just a lie, yes. But at the same time, it was a lie. What Spencer's hiding could be both huge and small and Derek has no idea what it was. Derek reached forward and pressed his hands against the cool porcelain of the bathroom sink before grabbing the glass knobs and turning the water on. He leaned down and cupped his hands in the water, splashing some of it on his face before grabbing his toothbrush, loading it up with Colgate and scrubbing his frustrations out on his teeth.
God, what if he's having an affair?
What if Spencer's found someone who doesn't ask questions—someone who doesn't leave him every time they disagree? What if he's happy with that other man? What if Spencer lets him kiss him, touch him, make love to him? What if what they have is open and true? What if Derek is the dirty little secret?
Derek's hand grew limp on the toothbrush. No. Spencer wouldn't cheat on him.
Sure, he would lie and hide things, but... infidelity isn't his style. Is it? Isn't it? Derek doesn't know.
What if it's a woman? Spencer is always so bashful around women and it's like catnip to them. What if he's sick of being the small, frail one in the relationship and longs to take and claim like many men do? What if he met a woman with soft, long hair, peter pan collars, and a love for books? What if they were perfect together and started a family right away? A family that Spencer truly wants. A family that Derek is unable to give him.
Or, worse. What if Spencer's sick?
He spit out the paste and rinsed his mouth out, hand slamming the brush down as he added up the possibilities of the speculation's truth.
That definitely sounds like something he'd hide. Something harsh, something crippling, something that's taking dance from him day by day. Maybe he shaved his legs for an x-ray or for surgery. Oh, God. What if Spencer's dying? He's dying isn't he? Oh, no!
Derek rose from the sink with wide eyes and opened the bathroom door, shouting into the room, "Are you dying?!"
Spencer sat up, gathering the sheets in his hands in surprise, "What?! No!"
Derek squinted at him, "Are you sure?"
Spencer nodded slowly, "Pretty sure."
Derek slowly started to close the bathroom door, watching as Spencer gave him a worried glance and opened it again, "You sleeping with other men?"
Spencer shook his head, "Nope."
Derek asked, "Other women?"
Spencer answered, "No."
"Trans men, trans women, genderqueer, hijira, third gender, agender, or gender fluid people?" Derek inquired.
Spencer furrowed his eyebrows, "No one's seen me naked in nine months except for you and Ryan the creepy voyeuristic Executive Producer. Why all the questions?"
Derek responded simply, "You're pansexual. I had to cover all bases."
Spencer added with a chuckle, "Well, you missed a couple genders."
Derek folded his arms, "Why are you attracted to so many people?"
Spencer shrugged, the sheet falling slowly off of his shoulder and revealing his porcelain skin in a way that can only be accidental. But, by God, it was enough to sway Derek for a moment as Spencer cocked his pretty head to the side and replied, "I don't know. But, you're the only one I've been in bed with, so I don't understand why that matters."
"Stop shrugging! It's really cute and I'm trying to stay mad at you, dammit!" Derek hissed, slamming the bathroom door closed. Fuck. At least the Big Two are out of the way. Anything else, Derek can get over he guesses.
He trudged over to the shower with bare feet, cold on the tile floor as he got the water going and turned the knob to get it falling out of the showerhead. It was only when he pulled down his sweatpants that Derek noticed that while his mind was still upset with Spencer, his dick had forgiven him tenfold. There it was, standing tall and confident and ready to go. Shit, really? Derek thought. Come on, penis. Do you have to be like that right now? We're mad at him, remember?
After a moment of chastising it reverently, it was clear to Derek that his dick was a stubborn son of a bitch. Even tired and pissed off, Derek can't 100% forget the fact that he was nibbling on his boyfriend's ear with a hand up his pants as they dirty talked each other to arousal between soft hotel sheets not five minutes ago. He could have sworn to himself then that by now one of them would have a mouth full of cock, and he knows he's not the only one. Not to mention opening the bathroom door to see Spencer laying there in a pool of covers and messy hair, sheets sliding off of his skin as he shrugged adorably with those big eyes on him—fuck! But, they were fighting now. Kind of. Hopefully not for long.
Damn.
He pulled the glass door aside and stepped inside, standing under the current with trepidation as he thought about all of the things he had said to Spencer. He could have been nicer about it, he knows, but Spencer could have been nicer too.
Spencer.
Soft... sensual... sexually frustrating Spencer.
Blushing cheeks, and innocent eyes, and sexy pouts. Long lashes, lush pink lips, large thin fingered hands. God, the way he walks. The way he looks over his shoulder. The way he runs his hands through his short curls. The way he licks along the spoon after he mixes his coffee, that warm wet tongue trailing slowly up the metal with his eyes locked on Derek's. He's such a fucking tease. It's a wonder he went nine months without someone slamming him down and screwing that shy mid-western accent out of him.
One hand slid over his wet, bald head as he searched around the hotel shower for the complimentary soap with his other one.
Thinking about Spencer face down on a desk with his pants around his ankles probably isn't the right thought to calm his dick down. Yeah, definitely not.
He found the soap, grabbing a wash cloth and soaping it up under the current of warm water. Once the cloth was sudsy enough, Derek ran it over his shoulder right past the lion tattoo above his bicep and started scrubbing down the skin of his arm. He wet the cloth up again and slid it along his built coffee colored chest.
His mind threatened to stray at feel of warmth against his skin.
His blood was still pounding in his ears, goosebumps were running down his arms. His mouth was dry and his palms itched. He was still painfully aroused no matter what he tried, the burning under his skin just wouldn't go away. Derek gulped, wetting the back of his throat as he inhaled the steam from the shower, the sharp sting of the heavy water pressure caressing the muscles of his shoulders and pouring down his skin.
In that moment, he felt movement on the other side of the misted up glass. Derek's heart started to beat faster and he paused the wash cloth on his chest. He leaned closer to the glass shower door and heard a toothbrush busying itself in the bathroom for about a minute. The brushing stopped, the sink came on for a moment, and the sound of feet walking closer echoed through the bathroom. Then, came another unmistakeable sound that had Derek jerking back in surprise: the glass shower door sliding open.
Derek glanced up into hesitant brown eyes as Spencer slipped himself into the tight hotel shower, closed the door behind him, and stood before Derek bare and brazen. He couldn't really say much of anything at this point. It must have took a lot of guts for him to be in here. Spencer isn't the type to be naked for long periods of time, nevertheless naked in front of someone without a place to hide. But, here he is. Derek watched as Spencer took a step back to stand under the spray of the shower. Silent and staring back, Spencer watched Derek as the water darkened and curled his honey brown hair. The spray of water traveled down his masculine face and followed on a path down his damp, slender body.
His breath was slow and even, pale chest rising and falling as he opened his lips softly to exhale. Derek reached forward with his washcloth to run it down his boyfriend's willowy chest. The soap suds there cascaded beautifully along his alabaster skin and Derek continued. He ran the soapy cloth down Spencer's arms, neck, torso. He bent slightly to soap up his legs and admittedly spent a bit more time on his rear than necessary.
After a hesitant moment, Derek knelt completely down on one knee, gazing up at his partner with devotion as he placed a hand over Spencer's left foot. He raised it and began to wash it lovingly, eyes locked with Spencer's as he cleaned the other foot.
Derek held his gaze during the entire ritual. When he was done, he stood and pushed Spencer's body gently back under the water to rinse all of the soap off. He watched as the previous day and past conversation washed itself off of Spencer's skin, down the drain, and into the abyss as he stared into Spencer's deep brown eyes.
Spencer opened his mouth once more, asking Derek with worry clear in his lips as his eyes teared up gently, "Are you still mad at me?"
Derek surged forward, pulling Spencer's body into his arms. They crashed together in a flurry of hands and lips and water and sweat. Their mouths melded and pressed hurriedly. Their bodies fit against each other like puzzle pieces. Derek pulled Spencer up, pushed his legs apart, wrapped them around his waist and slammed his back into the wall as he broke the kiss, "No."
Spencer grabbed him by the back of the head and pulled him in closer as they kissed, the cold tile of the wall contrasting with the searing heat of his lover's skin. Spencer's hands were everywhere. Gripping and claiming all over Derek's body. He's kissing like a man again. Fuck, Derek loves it when he does that. It took all that he was to pull away as he asked breathily, "Please. Why won't you tell me?"
"I'm too embarrassed. I can't," Spencer panted into his mouth as they fell into each other once more. Embarrassed? Derek laughed aloud in relief. That's the last thing Derek assumed was wrong. He'd figured Spencer had some big secret that would shatter the world as they knew it. He's just too scared to tell Derek because of... embarrassment?
Derek chuckled against his boyfriend's lips, "Oh, thank God. It's something small."
"That's not exactly the case," Spencer said quietly, glancing away from him, "I just..." He paused, soft pale chest rising as he breathed out, "...it has to do with tonight... and the professional's performance... I... Derek, I can't get out of it. I tried, believe me, I did, but... God, I didn't want you to think that I was some weak little kid who can't stand up for himself. I raised Hell in the Exec office, but it just wasn't enough."
Derek quieted, taking Spencer's chin and turning his face gently so that they were eye to eye, "Spencer... what are they making you do tonight?"
He watched as panic started to form in Spencer's eyes, "It's bad... it's really—it's so bad." His pale chest moved quickly as his breaths picked up. Spencer's face grew red and he gulped back a shaky breath, "I don't want you to see me like that. I don't want anyone to see me like that. But, everyone does." Spencer reached up and placed a hand over his mouth as he continued, "I hear it on the radio stations and see it in the magazine articles." Spencer's voice grew soft as he said steadily, "I'm not a real man anymore. I just… I'm not. Shit, I don't think I ever was…"
Derek wrapped his arms around Spencer and gripped him tightly, a hand coming up to push the back of Spencer's head in closer to him, "Bullshit! You are too a man! You're the strongest fucking guy I know! Who the hell said something to you? I'm going to kick their asses so hard, they'll be tasting their colon!"
Spencer sniffed, "Please don't put people's organs in their mouths. That's really gross."
Derek chuckled bitterly, "Fine, I won't. Just please. Please tell me who's making you do something you don't want to do tonight."
"It wasn't one specific person. It was a group. They just… gosh, let me start at the beginning," Spencer breathed into Derek's neck, tightening his arms around his lover's body, "You know how when the professionals do their choreo during elimination night, they do two of them?"
Derek nodded, "Yeah. To take up more time during elimination callings without seeming like assholes for making us wait."
Spencer asked simply, "You ever notice how they're separated?"
Derek paused, "...no."
"Well, usually," Spencer informed quietly, "The female professionals dance first and the male professionals dance last."
Derek started to put the pieces together, "Okay..."
Spencer continued, "The choreographers usually change, but Hough and I... we almost always tag team when planning out the men's portion. But, this week, I wasn't on his schedule as a co-choreographer."
Derek chimed in, "They took work from you, didn't they? Those butthurt bastards are probably still mad at you for not complying with Ryan's heteronormative bullshit…"
"Yes! You get it! That's exactly what I thought!" Spencer added with a hand to his forehead, "I figured that the people upstairs demoted me due to the fact that, you know, we got into it pretty intensely with the suits last week. But, when I showed up for Hough's rehearsal the first day, I wasn't even on the male professional's list," Spencer took a breath and confessed softly, "...I was on the other one."
"You mean the chick list?!" Derek's jaw dropped for a moment in pure and utter shock, "Are you fucking kidding me?!"
"I wish," Spencer added with a defeated sigh, "I drove over to the Exec office and gave them hell. And I mean... Hell for doing something like that to me. I wasn't just going to take that backhand like it was a love tap. Oh, no. I went in kicking and screaming. I called my lawyer. I called corporate. I even called my therapist at some point, I really don't remember. It's all a blur. All I know was that they fanagled their way through miles of red tape to get me on that list and there was nothing I could do contractually about it. If I opt out of a scheduled dance with them not due to injury, sickness, or familial emergencies... they can and will take my salary from me for the entire season."
Derek asked, "Well, how much is your salary?"
Spencer thumped his head against Derek's shoulder, "It goes up every year, and this is my fifth one, so... a lump sum a little over 210 grand."
Derek gasped, "Hot damn, that's a lot of money. You get that twice a year?!"
Spencer hissed, "And so help me God if they keep a dime of it because of I'm so hopped up on pride."
Derek shook his head, "There's no way to win here, is there?"
"No. I either stand my ground and let the people who backstabbed me for the past few months keep my hard earned money, or I dance in front of America in a skirt with ten other women as if I'm one of them," Spencer replied, "Which I'm not, by the way, because I'm a dude."
Derek paused, "But, what about the heels and lipstick? I thought you liked that."
Spencer answered, "Mild feminization turns me on in the bedroom and the bedroom only. Outside of it... sneakers and a tie just feel right on me. Anything else wouldn't. I couldn't wear those sparkly bralettes and skirts on live TV the same way I couldn't wear your flat brim hats or Ethan's suspenders. It's not me. Feeling out of place is a big turn on during sex, but I couldn't do it outside of that. I just couldn't."
Derek's face fell flat as he asked with hope clear in his voice, "So, if I put you in my jersey, handed you a pair of pom poms, and got a little nasty, you'd like that?"
Spencer nodded, "Yeah."
Derek closed his eyes and breathed, picturing the image unabashedly, "My God, that would be hot."
Spencer added quickly, "But I'd take it off right after and I'd be damned if I wore it to the kitchen, nevermind out of the house."
"I think I get it…" Derek let out a small smile, "Sparkly bralettes on national TV, huh? Not your idea of a good time."
Spencer sighed self-depricatingly, "Less sparkle, more naughty miniskirts and Mary Janes, actually."
Derek wiggled his eyebrows, "Sounds pretty sexy. That's a show I'd pay to see."
Spencer whipped back sharply, "Not funny."
Derek added, "It's a little funny."
Spencer made a sound of malcontent and leaned his head against the wall, face growing red as he covered his cheeks with his hands, "No, it's not! It's been eating me up inside all week. You don't know what it was not to tell you!"
Derek asked, "Then, why didn't you?!"
Spencer threw his hands out, short wet hair flopping into his forehead, "Because you were going to make fun of me! Which you just did by the way!"
"Awwh, baby. Don't get mad. Come on." Derek replied, reaching up and pushing the hair out of Spencer's eyes before leaning in and kissing him gently on the lips for a moment. He savored the feel and taste of hips beautiful lover's soft wet lips under his before adding, "I was just kidding, man. I'll stop if it truly makes you mad. I swear."
Spencer leaned into the embrace and wrapped his arms around Derek's neck, initiating a soft, slow kiss. When he pulled back, there was a blissful lippy smile on his face and a light blush running down his neck and into his chest. He whispered against Derek's lips, "Thanks."
Derek chuckled, kissing him once more before asking, "Just one more joke. Please."
Spencer's smile dropped as he answered curtly, "No."
Derek laughed aloud and moved his lips to Spencer's jaw, "So, I can't ask you to shake your bon bon for me? Nor, can I quote anything from the movie Showgirls or Breakfast on Pluto?"
Spencer got that creepy dark look on his face as he warned, "Derek."
Derek added, "Okay, okay. Just a word of advice though before I shut up. Don't stuff your bra with socks or tissues, alright? It doesn't look real. Go for the chicken cutlets. Yeah, I know they cost a little extra but it will be worth it."
Spencer shook his head, "I will break up with you. I swear to God. Naked in this shower, I will end it. Right now. Stop. It's not funny."
Derek gave up, surrender clear on his face as he leaned in and nuzzled his chuckles into Spencer's neck, "I'm sorry, man," Derek placed a soft kiss to the base of his throat, "You're just so damn sexy when you get all pissed at me like that."
Spencer shuddered softly, trying to keep the sternness in his voice as his boyfriend began kissing gently at his neck, "W-well… well, that's too bad because you're going to have to… to suffer the repercussions of your actions." The dancer's voice faltered at the end of the last word as he leaned his head back further to give Derek more space to work with, exposing the entire length of his neck.
"Oh, am I, now?" Derek whispered into his boyfriend's pale skin, nipping and kissing hard, leaving a heavy hot trail up his neck, "Just know that getting all mad at me will only make me want to fuck you harder."
"Well, that's too bad because—" Spencer moaned out gently, hands coming up to fall at the back of Derek's neck and leading him upwards, "Mmm, stop kissing me. I'm trying to make a point and… and you just can't make jokes like… like that because I told you not to… to…just—oh!" Spencer panted out sharply as Derek sucked at the dip under his Adam's apple, "Mmm, yes… come on, man, I'm trying here don't—uh!" Spencer's head thunked against the tile shower wall and his eyes fluttered closed as he whimpered out breathily, "… ah, baby, that feels so good…"
Derek laughing darkly against the stain he teased out at the pressure point where Spencer's neck met his jaw, "You like that, huh?"
Spencer nodded sourly, "I hate you. Kiss me."
Derek pressed his lips to Spencer's cheek, "Where do you want it, sweetheart?"
Spencer added bashfully, "Everywhere."
Derek chuckled, "Everywhere will take me a solid hour, dude, you have to be more specific."
Spencer answered bashfully, "My chest… my mouth… my… places."
Derek chuckled softly, "Your places?"
Spencer blushed, "You know what I mean."
"Such a friggen twelve-year-old sometimes," Derek laughed, leaning forward to capture Spencer's lips in his own for a moment, "It's adorable." They kissed for another long moment before Derek broke it again, "Fuck, it's so cute…"
"Ah! Babe! Yeah!" Spencer panted out, extending his right leg and arching his foot to a perfect pointe as Derek crowded his space and pushed him into the wall. He groaned and tossed his head back before rasping out breathily into the wet skin, "Bed! N-now!"
Derek looked up suddenly and breathed hard into Spencer's face, pupils blown with need, "You sure? I mean, it's warm enough in here and we don't want to get the sheets all wet and—"
Spencer grabbed Derek by the shoulders and said seriously, "If we're doing it right, the sheets are going to get wet anyway."
Derek panted hard, "You've got a point."
Spencer laughed breathily, "I know. And if you take me to bed right now, I'll do that slutty thing that I said I was never going to do even though I planned on doing it anyway."
Derek raised his eyebrows, "Word?"
"Word." Spencer grabbed Derek by the back of the head and dragged him into a rough, hot kiss. In an answer, Derek flailed his hand out toward the shower knob, turning it off sharply. [continued on the ArchiveOfOurOwn version]
Several minutes later, after Spencer had finished, he pulled the pillow down to reveal his blushing, panting, grinning face, "Whoa..."
Derek laughed, stilling his hips against Spencer's quivering, sensitive body and wiping his wet hand off on the sheets, "You okay, kid?"
"Oh, God, yeah," Spencer chuckled back tiredly, smacking at Derek's chest with the pillow before casting it aside before raising his hand to Derek's for a high five.
Derek panted, "Really? The corny post-sex high five?"
"Damn right. It's back and better than ever, babe." Spencer slapped Derek's sweaty outstretched hand, "You earned it."
Derek raised his eyebrows, "Apparently so. When I was nailing you against the headboard, you clawed at my back and swore at me in French, so… I kinda saw that as high five enough, I mean, I didn't even know you spoke French."
Spencer eased himself onto his back and grinned, "What can I say? Vous êtes incroyablement bon au sexe."
Derek pushed Spencer's bangs out of his face, "That's kinda hot. And by 'kinda', I mean 'totally'."
Spencer let Derek run his hand down his face and smiled easily, "I don't even know what you were worried about. That was awesome. You, Mr. Morgan, know your way around the mattress."
"Well, you're not too bad at it yourself, baby." Derek replied, "I didn't even know one could be so good at bottoming. Essentially all you have to do is lay there, but with you… it's like an art form with you."
Spencer wiggled his eyebrows, "You clearly haven't had sex with a dancer before."
Derek laughed, "I have now."
"Oh, just wait. I haven't even gotten started on you yet," Spencer grinned mischievously, leaning up and kissing Derek's lips before kicking one of Derek's legs out of the way and flipping them over without losing their seating. He grabbed Derek's wrists and placed his lover's hands on his slender hips before whispering, "Lie back and relax, Football. It's my turn now." Derek scoffed at Spencer's overconfidence, and to his pleasure… he should really stop underestimating the little bastard.
On the way to the GMA building, the paparazzi followed them from their hotel all the way to the station, snapping pictures at them through the windows of their cars and stalking them the entire way.
Getting out of the car was kind of a struggle.
Spencer's not very good with tight spaces and has a touch of claustrophobia, so making it through the gaggle of people crowding them against the cab car was more than a bit difficult for him. He's used to being stalked, followed, and exploited, but the intensity of the cameras shoving themselves into his face and his personal environment was kind of freaking him out a bit. His brown eyes were tight and his lips were held taught as he clutched his duffel and soldiered on.
Derek, on the other hand, was still fighting that giant cloud of depression and sucked back his fear for the sake of the dancer beside him as his manliness was questioned loudly and rudely in front of him. One of the reporters asked how he felt about being a bright light to the fag community and Derek didn't know whether to break down in tears or grab the camera wielding twit by the throat and slam his face against the pavement, so he ignored him and continued forward.
The doors of the large building were glass and cool under his hands as he pushed the door open, holding it for his lover and pushing into the building. Building Security kept the vermin from getting any further into the door than legally possible and from then on, it was a whole lot easier to breathe. Derek watched as Spencer shucked off his damp blue blazer, darkened by humidity and light precipitation and tossed it over his shoulder. He pushed his dark sunglasses off of his fair face and blinked lightly, long lashes scraping his cheekbones as he sauntered forward with trepidation. Derek felt his heart drop in his chest before racing, beating like a drum.
Is it weird that Spencer still makes Derek feel as nervous and teenage as he did when they first met?
Hell, he still can't believe that they had sex this morning. He just can't.
It's not like he's never seen Spencer naked before, or hadn't ever gotten hot and heavy with him. They just hadn't had honest, straightforward sex with each other. Until this morning, that is. Sure, sucking your boyfriend off is an intimate experience, but being inside Spencer… being chest to chest, burying hands in his hair, slamming into his body, bringing the kid to climax, getting his back pushed to the mattress, being ridden into oblivion, and passing out in a tangled mess of sweat and sheets… that type of physical closeness is hard to separate from. To be honest, half of Derek's mind is kinda still there in that hotel room, fucking the shit out of his boyfriend.
Derek could almost blame himself for taking too long to be honest. Spencer had always been ready and so had Derek. He was just a bit more concerned with the timing and situation being proper and treating Spencer with respect. While that did happen, he kind of feels as though he held them back from exploring this part of their sexuality together. The two had great sexual chemistry—they always did. But since they held themselves back, they never got to experience the brunt of it until about two hours ago.
Their veins were still hopping with it. Their skin was still tingling, their mouths were still dry. They could barely keep their hands off of each other afterward. Lingering touches, soft kisses. Making out against the door while they waited for the cab downstairs, groping each other in the elevator. They hadn't completely broken through that haze yet.
After leaving their hotel room, stepping into the lobby, and seeing everyone staring at them, the fact that the world was bigger than the two of them became very real very quickly. The whispers and points broke through Derek's mood and brought it down a few notches. But, then… then, Spencer grabbed his hand and all of a sudden, things didn't suck as much.
Plus, it didn't hurt that every time Derek looked at Spencer, he saw him lying there wrapped in sheets, grabbing the pillow to scream his passionate cries into as he wet Derek's hand with spurts of hot cum and tossing it aside to reveal his blushing, panting face. In his brain, there seemed to only be one channel on. And on that channel, Spencer was climaxing hard over and over and over again.
Spencer kept peeking over at Derek, trying to hide childishly that he was thinking the same exact naughty things about his freshly sated lover and Derek just grew quiet as they were ushered onto an elevator because he knew that if he opened his mouth that he would ruin it. After a long and quiet moment of traveling up the elevator, Spencer reached over and grabbed Derek's hand. Derek's heartbeat accelerated and he shifted his hand to lace their fingers together. Spencer blushed and looked down at the floor, trying to hide his wry smile.
Derek looked across the elevator at Spencer, murmuring softly, "You look nice today."
Spencer raised his eyebrows distractedly as he asked, "Hmm?"
"I just... you know," Derek shrugged, "You look nice. Today. I mean, every day you look nice, I'm just saying that today especially you just... you look like really, really good. Like, extra good. Not that you don't always look extra good, but—" Derek felt Spencer's lips press a soft kiss to his cheek as he blushed with a shy smile, "Thank you. I actually half tried today and was kind of nervous about how this outfit worked, so... thanks." The dancer looked down at his soft grey cableknit v-necked sweater, dark slacks, and his ever-present black Chuck Taylors with a genuine sigh of relief before glancing back at his partner, "Really."
"I wasn't talking about your outfit, Pretty Boy," Derek said warmly, wrapping an arm around his boyfriend with a hand resting on Spencer's black ballet duffel. The team at GMA had asked him to do a brief demonstration for them, and so he brought his dance slacks, his black jazz shoes, and one of Derek's Henley shirts. When he had grabbed it from him in the morning, Derek tried tugging it back and Spencer snatched it back and held it close to him saying sternly "Stop. Give it to me. I'm nervous and I need it."
Derek laughed and let him take it along. Fine. Whatever floats his little dancer boat is fine with him.
Spencer rested his head against Derek's as the elevator dinged floor by floor until it reached the right one and let out a mournful sigh, "No turning back now, huh?"
Derek gulped, wiping his sweaty palm on Spencer's bag, "That's for damn sure."
Spencer said simply, reassuring the both of them, "Don't worry. We've got this."
"Yeah, of course we do. As long as we don't swear and talk about the loads of sex we just started having, we should be fine," Derek added with a deprecating chuckle.
Spencer commented as the elevator opened, "I wouldn't call it loads of sex. We only started screwing each other a couple of hours ago. No matter how illiterate you fucked me this morning; that truth still stands."
At that exact moment, the horde of CA's walking by stopped and stared at them before getting quiet and chuckling as they pittered away to their respective jobs.
Derek leaned over and whispered, "Do you think they heard you?"
Spencer nodded, "Without a doubt."
"Okay, before we go out there, I've gotta confess something,"
Derek whispered to Spencer, holding him back from the sliding doors, "I've always had the biggest crush on Robin. Like... the biggest crush. I fucking love her. If she looks at me, my heart's going to fall off. Then, my lungs. Then, my kidneys. Then, my small intestine. In that order."
Spencer corrected easily as he pushed Derek's arm out of the way and continued on, following the directions to the make-up room he had memorized, "Don't you mean fall 'out'?"
Derek shook his head and kept in line with his boyfriend, "No. No, I don't. I meant what I said."
Spencer replied easily, "Well, Laura is going to be interviewing us, so no need for you to leave an organ trail behind you when she no doubt shuts you down."
Derek followed after his boyfriend quickly, "What do you mean 'shuts me down'? I'm hella fine. She'd be like 'Ooh, Derek. You're so sexy.' and would throw herself on me immediately without question."
Spencer chuckled out, "You? Sexy? Okay."
Derek folded his arms, "I was sexy enough last night when I was sucking you off."
"Well... you actually kind of have to work on the whole..." Spencer scrunched up his face and made a choking sound, "Thing. It's not cute."
Derek started to laugh, "Yeah, like you gave me something to choke on."
Spencer gasped and looked up at Derek, "Did… did you just insinuate that I have an undersized penis?"
Derek chuckled, "What are you going to do about it?"
Spencer blinked quickly, taken aback, "Well, firstly, I'll have you know that the average male endowment length is approximately 5.6 inches, so I am actually slightly above the norm..." Derek continued to laugh and Spencer rolled his eyes, continuing, "I have seen way more than my fair share of male genitalia in passing and that fucking... baseball bat you're walking around with is just... completely and totally unnecessary. I would go as far as to say... excessive. You are the last person to be enlightening the world about adequacy." Derek doubled over, his shoulders shaking as Spencer folded his arms and finished, "So, in conclusion, fuck you." Derek shook his head with a chuckle and Spencer added, "I'm normal, you're the freak."
As Spencer walked off, Derek called out after him, "The good kind, or the bad kind?"
"Both!"
Derek folded his arms and pushed past the rushing crowds of people separating him and yelled back, "You're just jealous."
"Of course, I'm jealous! No man in his right mind wouldn't be jealous!"
Derek jogged up to him and snuck his arms around his boyfriend, catching him in an embrace and kissing the skin behind his ear gently, "You're perfectly adequate, okay? I was just kidding. I love your dick. Don't feel bad."
Spencer blushed and elbowed Derek away from him before pushing his bangs back from his face, "Okay, fine. Stop touching me in public."
Derek chuckled, striding up beside him and snaking an arm around his waist, pulling him close as they began to walk beside each other, "You like it."
Spencer rolled his eyes, cheeks reddening even further as he wrapped his opposite arm around Derek's waist slightly above his lover's arm, "Yeah, but people stare."
"They're staring because they see two fine-ass guys cuddling and they want to get in the middle of that. They want to be the waffle cone in our Vanilla Chocolate Ice Cream Delight." Derek remarked easily as they made their way to the Guest Relations Desk, sneaking another kiss to his boyfriend's temple.
Spencer let out a loud laugh, a big grin brightening up his face, "Vanilla Chocolate Ice Cream Delight?! That's almost as funny as when you made up porn star names for us."
Derek said pointedly, "Hey, 'Ebony and Ivory's Sexy Concerto' is totally going to be a thing. You just wait. We're going to make sweet, sweet interracial love on a piano and everybody's going to buy into it."
Spencer pushed his face into Derek's neck bashfully, "You really thought this through, didn't you?"
"Hey, man, everyone needs a Plan B. If I were you, I'd strip down, oil up, and smile for the camera," Derek replied.
As they approached the desk, Spencer smacked Derek's chest with a laugh, "Not for all the money in the world."
Derek rolled his eyes and stood at the desk, gesturing to the man at the Guest Relations Desk, "Hi. Derek Morgan and Dr. Spencer Reid scheduled for 8:15."
The blond intern looking boy answered, "You two are the gay dancers, right?"
Spencer nodded, "Technically we're the bi and pansexual dancers, but since we're in a same-sex relationship, sure. Bring on the misrepresented monosexual labels. Because that's not going to hurt anybody in the long run."
The blonde intern blinked slowly.
Spencer replied, "…it's like you don't even think about, care about, or lift a finger to educate yourself about sexual and romantic orientations other than your own in depth because they don't affect you at all. Is that true, or am I just being an asshole by assuming that you live your life each day without a thought of anybody but yourself? The cisgender heterosexuals that broaden their academic horizons should be commended for their time and effort to learn about others, and I'll give credit where credit is due."
The blonde intern shook his head.
Spencer asked, "That wasn't a 'yes' or 'no' question. What are you saying 'no' to? Me being an asshole or you being an asshole?"
The blonde intern stared blankly.
Spencer peered at him with interest in his squinted brown eyes as he studied him, "What?"
The blonde intern blinked again.
Spencer sighed and leaned into Derek, glancing up at his boyfriend with trepidation, "I think I broke the desk-guy."
"Oh, you totally broke him," Derek replied easily, taking over with a simple wave of his hand, "Hello, again. We're the gay dancers and we're here a half hour early. Where are we supposed to be?"
The blonde intern looked down at his paper and answered, "The make-up room. Down the hall, third door on your right."
Derek scoffed, "I don't do make-up."
Spencer added, "It's true. He hates the stuff."
"It's just gross," Derek reached over to take Spencer's hand, leading him in the direction of the hallway before stopping. He shouldn't tell the guy off. He really shouldn't. It would be rude and unprofessional and—fuck it. Derek's mad now. After radio stations, and article writers, and Tweet watchers calling him "gay" just because he was with Spencer even after he explicitly said "bisexual" on several accounts... Derek was on his last leg. Bi-erase him one more time, and he just might snap. He let go of Spencer's hand and turned on his heels to face the intern, "Just a little question here… why did you think we were gay?"
The intern scoffed, gesturing with a hand at the two men, "Because it's obvious. I mean you're both guys and you kiss each other and dance a lot; it's not rocket science."
Derek took a step closer and cocked his head to the side as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, "So, you're saying… because I'm a man who's sexually attracted to another man, I can't possibly be sexually attracted to women at the same time? I'm just automatically gay even though you never asked me my orientation?"
He snorted, "Of course not. You're either gay or straight. You've gotta pick one, dude."
Derek added, "But, why? Sure. I like sucking his cock. Shit, I could do it all day long. Doesn't make pussy less awesome."
The intern chuckled, "What would you know about pussy?"
Derek rolled his eyes, folding his arms over his chest, "A hell of a lot more than you, kiddo."
The intern raised his eyebrows and pointed towards Spencer, "Well, if you like chicks so much, then why are you dating him and not fucking other girls?"
"Because I like him," Derek shrugged, "Love him, actually. And, when you love someone, you... date them and you don't fuck other girls."
The intern narrowed his eyes, "But, if dating a dude is becoming such a big deal, why don't you just date ladies? Wouldn't that be easier than going through all of this gay stuff?"
Derek shook his head, "No, because I fell in love with a man. I'm not just going to ignore that because it would be 'easier'."
The intern shrugged, "What? So, you just went gay for him?"
Derek rubbed at the bridge of his nose, "No. I'm screwing him and him alone, but I am still bisexual."
The intern made a confused face and leaned back in his seat, "But, how?! How can you like both? That doesn't make any sense!" the blonde suddenly noticed Spencer and gestured to him with a wide open palm, "And what about him?! He said he's pan sexual? Why the hell would you be into someone who fucks kitchenware?!"
Derek looked behind his shoulder to Spencer and closed his eyes in exasperation, "Jesus H. Christ."
Spencer placed a hand on Derek's arm and tugged him back towards the hallway, "You know what? Just… just leave it. We're going to end up being late." Spencer called out to the intern as they reached the hallway, "Just go Google it! That should help! Look it up!"
After being briefed by the guest relations crew, shaking hands with Laura Spencer, and receiving a threatening call from Cindi, the two men were seated on the couch and ready to go. They were both wearing the same thing they came in wearing to keep them comfortable, and since Cindi put the fucking fear of God in them, what they could and could not say was set in stone. If they did not follow those rules like they didn't last time, then their balls will be "hacked off one by one with a rusty butter knife". Derek has seen Spencer scared, but he had never seen his boyfriend's face pale up like that before, so to say Cindi had real power over a man she'd never seen in person before would be speaking the truth.
Spencer sat on the couch in the brightly lit half-room set beside Derek while twiddling his fingers in his hands. He was clearly nervous about the whole ordeal, and he should be. The way they fucked up their last interview was a damn shame. Derek was receiving more Tweets and threats than ever before, lots of them directed towards hating him. While his ex-team's Twitter proclaimed their full support, there were hundreds of people saying that Derek and Spencer's relationship was disgusting, immoral, and deviant. The shittiness kind of outweighed the good at this point
Derek took one of Spencer's twitching hands in his own and laced their fingers together before resting his bald head on his boyfriend's thin, broad shoulder, "Hi."
Spencer replied distantly, "Hi."
"Nervous?"
Spencer scoffed, "Only a lot."
Derek shrugged and answered easily, "We'll knock it out of the park, dude, don't worry."
Spencer looked down at Derek from where his head was rested on him, "Like we did last time?"
Derek replied, "Hopefully not. Fallon's interview was a shit show on ice. Besides, we know what to say, Cindi gave us guidelines, the show will ask family friendly questions… it's all teed up for us. All we have to do is be honest. Just not too honest, because, you know, America doesn't have to be aware of how hard I broke your hips this morning."
Spencer gave Derek a flat look, "I think you're over exaggerating how good the sex was."
Derek shook his head slowly, "No, I'm not."
Spencer started to chuckle, reaching an arm around to wrap along the back of the couch, "You know what, you're kinda right. You're not magnifying a hurried, awkward missionary fuck to be something fantastical. Not at all. It was awesome. I stopped breathing four times. You killed me and revived me like… over and over again. It was a freaking physical, emotional, spiritual experience that changed my entire life. Shit, I'm a new man."
Derek let out a laugh and pushed his head off of his boyfriend, "Okay, now you're just making fun of me."
"No, I'm not." Spencer laughed, turning to him with one leg hiked up onto the couch, "I forgot rudimentary English terms for pleasure at some point and my entire brain shifted into Creole. I don't even know Creole. How my mind translated itself is beyond me, but it was definitely your doing. I also visited space, time, and the grave of Rudyard Kipling while you were nailing me, and I have the greatest stories of the jokes Oort Cloud told to Pluto back when he was still relevant in the Solar System."
At this point, Derek was leaning over the other side of the couch with laughter, "Where do you even get this shit from?"
Spencer rolled his eyes, "Well, I would tell you if you stopped laughing. My hips are far from broken, thank you. A little tender, but fine nonetheless." Spencer let out a scoff, "Good thing I stretched first, so I'm not as achy there as I would be after your insistent manhandling."
Derek raised his eyebrows moodily, "Insistent? Last time I checked 'harder' meant harder, and 'yes' means keep doing that."
"It felt so good while it was happening, it's the whole after part I wasn't thinking about," Spencer replied under his breath, "My back is… so not okay with what happened. I think I'm getting too old for the whole rough-passion thing."
Derek scoffed, "Oh, cry me a damn river, you 32-year-old. Just wait until you get to be my age. You sweat all the time for nothing, you can't see anything within one foot of your face, and you can't process McDonalds without spending a year on the toilet regretting it. I'd take a back ache from a rough fuck over that any day."
Spencer asked, "So, you're achy too?"
Derek chuckled, "Hell no, I feel great. My boyfriend let me bone him this morning and showered with me twice, thanks for asking."
"He did? Seriously?" Spencer feigned shock and shook his head, tittering, "Slut."
Derek pushed at Spencer as they both started laughing, leaning against each other on the couch and swatting at each other boyishly. Spencer's chuckles died down and he pushed his bangs off of his forehead, gazing back at Derek with a grin on his flushed face. The moment of calm didn't last long as he started to laugh again, pressing his head against Derek's shoulder. Derek shook his head with a mirthful smile and wrapped his arm around Spencer. He kissed his lover's soft brown hair and added, "Nah, I think he's a very classy fellow. He's the tie and vest type, you know? Scholarly, talented dancer, the largest pair of beautiful brown eyes, I mean fuck… I just about get lost in 'em every time I see him."
Spencer buried his face into Derek's shirt with a blush and Derek noted, "And when he blushes it's somehow cute and sexy at the same time." Spencer mumbled something into Derek's cotton tee shirt, Derek replied with, "He mumbles at me with those little pouty lips and most of the time I can't hear him when he does it. It's adorable." Spencer's back shook with laughter and Derek patted it gently, rubbing his hand on it in circles, "I adore the shit out of him and I spend every moment I'm next to him thinking 'boy, did I luck out'."
Spencer looked up at Derek from beneath his arm and smiled, "You do?"
Derek shrugged, "Every day."
Spencer leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to Derek's lips, gazing into his eyes contentedly, "Me too," he rolled his eyes and clarified, "About you, I mean. Lucky me. Muscle-bound hottie with a heart of gold wakes up in my bed on the regular and he really, truly loves me. And I love him too. What more could I ask for?"
"To win the Seagull Game," Derek added with a laugh as he failed to finish the statement with a straight face.
Spencer shook his head with laughter and he gave Derek a solid look down before leaning in and whispering into his ear, "Fuck you, okay? I will win the next time."
Derek raised his eyebrows, "There's going to be a next time?"
Spencer bit his lip and grinned toothily, leaning in and whispering closer, "You bet your toned ass, there will."
Derek blinked slowly, "Toned ass?"
"Too much?" Spencer asked with a raised eyebrow.
Derek pulled Spencer in closer and kissed his forehead, "Don't worry about the sexy talk. You'll get better at it, honey."
"You sure?" Spencer nestled into Derek's chest, wrapping his arms around his middle, "I think I just need a sexy… Sexy Talk Professor. That majored in sexiness. With a minor in… like… more sexiness—well, wait, not that. Because you can't major and minor in the same thing that wouldn't make sense—"
Derek patted Spencer's head, "Ssh, baby. You're trying too hard. Just let it go. Moment's gone."
Spencer added, "Yeah, but—"
Derek cut him off, "It's gone, sweetheart."
Spencer started, "But I—"
Derek added, "Gone."
Spencer muttered, "But—"
Derek shook his head, "Uh uh."
Spencer pouted, "But, Derek—"
Derek finished, "Nope."
Spencer made a little mad face, crinkling up his nose and closing his eyes as the room started to fill with more people than there were before. The set director and camera director as well as an assload of background technicians filed in along with the desk cast. The beautiful bonde Laura Spencer walked in with her mile high heels, red lip, and dress/blazer combo on heading to speak with a few people before striding over to the couch, hand extended.
The two men watched as she walked over and blinked slowly, both seemingly transfixed as she approached them. Her blue eyes twinkled as she sat down in the chair across from them. She placed her notepads down beside her and reached out to shake Derek's hand, "Hi, I'm Laura Spencer. I'll be interviewing you two today."
Derek turned to his default charm, winking and grinning loosely at her with his signature ladykilling smile, "Pleasure to meet you. I'm Derek Reid—I mean, Derek Morgan! Morgan."
Spencer gasped at Derek's chest, "Did you just…"
"It slipped out. I'm sorry. I'm used to introducing both of us at the same time." Derek explained, hoping his suaveness could cover up the major flub he just uttered out, "This koala bear using me as a tree branch is Dr. Spencer Morgan—I mean—Reid!"
Spencer reluctantly pulled himself off of Derek and sat up, settling down on his seat closer to Derek and smiling pleasantly, "I'm Dr. Spencer Reid. I'm not a koala bear and we're not married."
She laughed gently, sounding like a little angel, "Okay. No trips to Vegas or anything?"
Spencer shook his head avidly, "No, I haven't been home in a few years. Derek, I don't know about. Even if we had, gay marriage is banned in Nevada, but they do recognize civil unions and domestic partnerships. But, we've only been dating about a week now. Exchanging rings is a bit too soon, don't you think?"
Laura cocked her head to the side and smiled softly before asking Derek, "Did he just say 'home'?"
Derek answered for him, "Yep, he's from Vegas."
Spencer shrugged, "I'm not allowed in most of the gambling halls though."
Derek chuckled, glancing over to gaze at his boyfriend with admiration, "He cheats, little card counting bastard."
Spencer added, "Well, you know what they say: if you're good at something, never do it for free." Derek leaned over and whispered something into Spencer's ear quietly and the young doctor blushed before pushing Derek's face away as he laughed, "Shut up…"
Laura looked at the two with a broad smile, reaching out to pat Spencer's leg, "You two are just so cute! I've gotta go talk with the director. He's waving me over, but I'll be right back!"
As she rose from the chair, she turned and walked away. Her heels clicked on the linoleum and the men watched her. The cut of her blazer ended right above her shapely rear. As she moved, it moved with her; catching the attention of the couple on the couch. Spencer and Derek's heads turned to the side at similar angles as she continued on and Derek whistled.
Spencer grew red and asked him, "Dude, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
Derek commented distantly, "Hot."
Spencer leaned into Derek, smooshing his face into his shoulder, "So hot."
Derek asked, "Threesome?"
Spencer chuckled, "Keep dreaming, buddy."
"Don't even act like you're not picturing it right now," Derek added, feeling his phone buzz in his pocket. He reached in and unlocked it, checking the recent message.
Spencer said under his breath, "I just want to eat s'mores off of her."
Derek raised his head to stare at Spencer worriedly, "What?"
Spencer explained awkwardly, motioning with his hands, "With the chocolate... melting down the breast area... like so. And then, she'll be all messy... gotta clean it up... with my handkerchief... and my mouth... and the ripped up pages from... Aldous Huxley's Modern Works..."
"Such a fuckin' nerd," Derek tittered with an abysmal smile as he pulled up the text message from Penelope asking him to check the tweets from last night. He clicked on the app and waited for it to load, filtering through until he found the tag and user he was looking for. After a moment of reviewing, Derek spoke up, "...shit."
Spencer's face fell as he asked, "What's wrong?"
Derek glanced back up at him, "We've been nominated for a Spotlight Dance. Tonight."
A/N: But, the last dance was improv?! What will they do? Will they suck it up and try to recreate? Will they boycott it? Will they use the free space to dress up like Sailor Mars and Saturn?
So many questions! See ya next time.
Love,
Blue
P.S: JUST TO REITERATE: There's a scene in here that had to be vastly cut to fit into the sex guidelines. There's a whole 3,000 words to this chapter that you're missing out on. The full 15k version of this chapter is on ArchiveOfOurOwn under the same name as this one. Keyword search: "Raising the Barre Tipping Pointe".
