A/N: It's about to get pretty hot up in here, up in here.

Love,

Blue

Raising the Barre

CHAPTER SEVEN: You Can't Teach Passion

"So…" Derek spoke as the two men sat quietly in the make-up room. Spencer scowled over at him in response. Dozens of people bustled around them and the other stars and dancers, spraying and talking and painting away. Derek stole a look over at Spencer and tried not to laugh as a woman nodding into headphones blasting ska music began to strong arm some gel into his hair to tame down his wild, loose curls. Spencer had a worried look on his face as she did so. He gnawed on his lower lip and she pulled out a thinly toothed comb. Spencer's eyes widened as she brought it toward him and flinched as she dragged it through his stubborn locks.

Derek leaned back in his chair. The make-up lady was already finished with him, it was Spencer who apparently needed most of the work. Fucking diva.

Spencer whimpered as the lady forced her way through Spencer's hair with the styling comb and Derek said simply, "If you loved your hair every day, it wouldn't be such an issue."

The dancer hissed back, "Yeah, and you'd know so much about that, baldy."

"Hey. I gotta maintain this too. Besides, bald is beautiful, man. Gives you a nice smooth surface to push down on," Derek replied with a wink.

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows confusedly, "What do you mean 'push down on'?"

"You know, man," Derek laughed out and leaned over to whisper to him slyly, "Giving head."

Spencer's brows furrowed deeper, "Why would you give me your head? I don't understand what I would want with it."

Derek tufted, "You're so sheltered. It's adorable."

Spencer mumbled, "I'm not sheltered. I'm just… a tad slow with up-and-coming culture."

Derek replied blandly, "Dude, RunDMC did a song about it when I was in college. This is anything but up-and-coming culture."

Spencer folded his arms and winced as the woman parted his hair, "I don't even know who DMC is, nevermind what he's running from."

"Wow, kid. Come here," Derek rolled his eyes and leaned closer, whispering after looking around a bit to make sure no one was paying attention, "I'm talking about playing the human flute, brah. The 'Face In My Pants' dance."

"Oh." Spencer murmured in the loud room and suddenly slammed his hand over his mouth as his eyes widened and he understood the concept, "Oh!"

Derek chuckled.

Spencer's face started to fill with color as he breathed, "Oh, my God… I've never even thought of that before. Not with… you know," his hand made a fluid arc over Derek's bald head, "one of those."

Derek winked slyly, "And how does it sound?"

Spencer got quiet as he blushed harder and looked away from him.

Derek snickered with glee, "Answer me, kid."

Spencer pushed his hand out until his palm covered Derek's face, pushing his partner as far away from him as he could.

Derek added, "Ooh, feisty. I like it."

"You know what?" Spencer's cheeks neared pink as he hissed back, "Why do I even talk to you? I ask myself this every day. You're so damned vulgar and you've assumed making me uncomfortable as your life's mission."

"That good, huh?" Derek laughed.

Spencer leaned over and pointed in warning, "You're a little… devil. That's what you are. You need to be sent away. Immediately."

Derek ran his hand over his smooth head, winking at Spencer, "Hell don't want me, baby. Where would I go?"

Spencer paused and then reached over the seat to smack Derek any place he could reach without upsetting the hair stylist.

Derek whispered under his breath between hits as Spencer unleashed several repeated smacks to his side as he started again, "You know—if you're—ow!—if you shave, the beard feels—fuck...that one hurt!—it feels real nice prickly against your—"

Spencer threatened him with a glare as the hair dresser pulled him gently back into the seat while changing the song on her iPod.

Derek leaned back in his chair, "Now you're thinking about it, and with that, I am satisfied."

Spencer muttered under his breath as the loud headphone-wearing hair dresser brushed the back of Spencer's hair in place through his squirming, "Just wait until we're alone."

"I'll be counting the minutes," Derek teased.

Spencer glared over at him, "I've never met one so excited to meet his imminent death."

Derek added with a barking laugh, "Look at your little grimace. You're trying so hard to be intimidating. It's so cute."

Spencer folded his arms, barking back against the hair spray floating around his head, "One day, I'm going to get you when you least expect it. I'll make it look like a damned accident too, I swear to God."

Derek grinned, "I'm sure you will."

As the make-up lady finished Spencer's hair, she took out the headphones and patted his shoulder to tell him he was all ready to go. He looked into the mirror with amusement, "Huh. Well, this style's new."

His hair was parted on the right and combed back just enough to look polished and well-to-do. The rest of his curls were no longer curls. They were brushed down and hitting the back of his neck easily. He looked way more dressed up than he did in his suit last week. Maybe it's because he's in a tux. It's probably the tux combined with the hair that gives off that effect. No, no. It's the tux. The hair is just a side note. Either way, Kid looked fantastic. Thus, Derek had to slam him.

Derek chuckled as he got out of the chair, "You look like a damned Disney prince."

Spencer perked up, nearly forgetting their previous impasse, "Oh, which one? Naveen or Married Flynn Rider?"

Derek continued away out of the make-up room and Spencer followed, striding with him into the land of the crowded hallways, "Neither. You need your own story—you know what? I got it! You're that gay prince that Pixar keeps saying they'll make but never honestly considered creating."

"I'm not going to be an animation reject, I'll tell you that right now." Spencer huffed and folded his arms, "I'm voting myself Prince Eric. He's the hottest."

Derek stopped and looked at him, "Wait, which one is he again?"

"The Little Mermaid's husband," Spencer replied, rolling his eyes, "Duh."

Derek quirked his eyebrows, giving it time to process, "Oh, the brunette?"

Spencer nodded, "Yeah."

Derek continued walking, "He fucked a fish girl. That takes a few points away for me."

Spencer growled, "It was true love, Derek. Let it go."

Derek added, "That's all well and good, but come on! She had a tail. And then she didn't. And then there were kids. This is elementary, my dear Watson."

Spencer reiterated, "Let. It. Go."

Derek cocked his head to the side, "She grew a vagina overnight, I mean, dude. I wouldn't trust the shit out of that. Spell or no spell, man, you have to admit that a normal guy would be at least a little freaked out by a magical cooch."

Spencer slapped his hand against his own forehead, "Derek. Please. At this point, I think you're contradicting me for the sake of argument."

"Damn right I'm contradicting you for the sake of argument," Derek replied as the approached the Red Room, "You're my favorite banter buddy, man. You're the only person I know beside my mom who could verbally kick my ass. And I don't argue with my mom out of respect."

Spencer replied, "Why don't you respect me enough not to argue with me? I'm your instructor. That makes me like two steps below your mom."

Derek shrugged, "If you didn't change my diapers, you have to earn it. That's just how it is. Now, trust and believe, you have earned it in full. With interest. But, you're just so damned easy to piss off. Sometimes, I can't help myself."

Spencer argued as he opened the door to the Red Room, "I'm not easy to piss off! Take that back, dick!"

Derek chuckled.

The duo walked down the steps together the same way they did last week, minus the little quirk of attitude they had last time. They waved to the crowd, smiling with their chins raised. Spencer kept his eyes trained forward and Derek descended respectfully behind him, hand on the small of his back as their names were called.

Clearing the steps, they stood beside a glittery Penelope whom greeted Derek with a hug after the crowd cheered for them. She asked how he was doing and hung off of his arm as they headed back up the steps. Derek replied, "I'm doing good. What about you, Baby Girl?"

She grinned, "Incredible! Notice anything different about me?!"

Derek looked her over and furrowed his eyebrows, "No…"

Penelope rolled her eyes and pointed to her hair, "I'm a redhead now."

"Oh," Derek said quietly, "I thought you meant other than that…"

She sighed, "You didn't notice, did you?"

Derek paused and his voice went up in pitch a bit as he lied, "Yeah. Yeah, I noticed."

Penelope glared at him.

Derek wrapped an arm around her, "I'm sorry, Mama. You are just so beautiful that my mind stops for a moment and I didn't have time to factor in the change."

Penelope eased up on him, "Nice save."

Derek pumped his fist, "Yes!"

Penelope glanced around Derek, "...holy crap, is... is he okay?"

Derek turned around to see Spencer standing in front of the wall, staring at it with glassy eyes. His back was ramrod straight and he didn't move an inch. He just stared at the wall as if it was the only thing in the room. No, no, no. Bad. Derek spoke up, "Whoa. Okay, I've got to take care of this." Spencer's head tipped forward and his forehead landed on the wall with a thunk. Derek hurried past the dancers and stars to his partner. He tapped at Spencer's shoulder, "Hey... kid, you alright?"

"Oh, God," Spencer mumbled, "I'm freaking out right now. Like I'm... I'm really fucking freaking out."

Derek asked worriedly, "What? Why? What happened?"

The dancer didn't speak. Thankfully, his arm was being pulled in the opposite direction from the dancers/stars couch and Derek had to make a graceful, but hurried leave. Without asking where they were headed, Derek followed as Spencer dragged him along down a half flight of stairs into a decently sized storage room filled with cords, tapes, and giant hard drives. It was kind of dark in there, but after Spencer clicked on a dusty lamp, the room brightened up a bit.

Spencer turned to Derek before he even got to ask and said through a tightened jaw, "I don't think I can do the lift."

Derek folded his arms and looked over to his coiffed dance partner, "What do you mean you can't do the lift? We've done it a thousand times."

Spencer pressed his fingertips to his temples and complained, "Not in front of an audience! What if I fall, or I miss a step, or my pants rip, or the ground opens up and swallows me into a cataclysmic rift."

"Hey, hey, hey! Dude," Derek walked over and grabbed Spencer's shoulders, "Chill."

Spencer took in several curt breaths, "I don't think I can. I can't. I can't do it. I can't do the lift, Derek. I can't do it."

Derek moved his hands to kneed gently at the sides of Spencer's long neck in a soothing, circular motion, "You can. I've seen it. And you do an amazing job."

Spencer whimpered and leaned his head against Derek's shoulder, "But, it's not perfect. I've only been doing it for a few days, and it's going to look super faggy in this tux."

Derek added, feeling his shoulder grow damp, "Man, nothing's perfect, but your dancing gets pretty damned close. You know what they call you, Spencer?"

Spencer sniffed around a poorly concealed sob, "What?"

Derek wrapped his arms around him and said into his partner's hair, "The Prince of Ballroom."

Spencer let out a watery laugh, "You're lying."

Derek chuckled, "Google doesn't lie."

"You Googled me?" Spencer's arms snaked around Derek's waist to hug him back, "Dude, you're so full of it."

Derek nodded, "Spencer, I swear to God, I'm not kidding. I'll pull it up on my phone. Wanna see?"

Spencer laughed harder and sniffed again, wiping lazily at his face, "No! I don't want to see it."

"That's because you believe me, you pompous piece of shit," Derek joked before rubbing the dancer's back lightly, "You know what the Prince would do in this situation?"

Spencer asked, "What?"

Derek nudged the side of his face with his chin, "He'd run out on that stage with me and do that girly lift like a motherfucking champ. He may not do it perfectly, yeah, but he'd do it to the best of his ability and it would look incredible." Derek finished before adding quickly, "And the crowd would bow to his Excellency."

Spencer leaned back with a wet face and pushed lazily at Derek's shoulder, "No, they wouldn't."

Derek reached up and wiped his cheeks dry with a gentle thumb, "Yes, Spencer. And if they don't, I will."

Spencer raised his hand to hold onto the one Derek placed on the side of his face, "You will?"

Derek nodded, "In a heartbeat. Why? Do you dare me? I'll do it in front of everybody, I swear. You just have to do the lift."

Spencer laughed.

Derek shrugged, "Man, that's the deal. Do the lift, and I will kneel before you in front of America."

Spencer looked up at Derek with a grin, "You can't be serious."

"It's not every day you have a Superbowl MVP bowing to you in front of a national audience," Derek replied, "I'd take the bait if I were you."

Spencer asked, "Can we just... rehearse it a couple more times? Just to be safe?"

Derek patted his shoulder, "Of course."

Spencer moved out of Derek's embrace and plugged his iPod into a loading dock in one of the big, dusty drives, clicking on the song, "We're the fifth couple. We've got forty minutes. Remember to lean on your left foot and straighten your back."

The song began and Derek walked as far as he could from Spencer before the first measure started and they melded into their characters, Derek as the daydreaming lover and Spencer as the angry date. As the violins began, Derek walked up to Spencer. The two shifted into an awkward high school slow dance, while Derek's eye kept catching onto another woman (played by a gigantic, dusty hard drive). Spencer's character noticed and grabbed Derek's face, moving his line of vision to Spencer and Spencer alone. Derek nearly laughed. Spencer's face was frozen in that angered pout.

Ne-yo began, "It's just the cutest thing when you get to fussing, cussing."

Derek started on his left foot and Spencer followed his movement, dancing him back a few steps before grabbing Spencer's hips stepping him twice in a crisp, clean motion.

"Yelling and throwing things, I just want to eat you up." Ne-yo finished.

The two melded into a sharp stance and with a raise and flick of his wrist, he guided Spencer into a strong turn and two-step.

"I don't mean no disrespect when I start staring…"

Then, as the next line peaked, Derek and Spencer touched each other's faces, held eye contact, and lowered their stance in a slow, coupled lunge. The two got lower and lower to the floor of the dusty security room, eyes locked in a sharp, meaningful stare.

"Knowing that it makes you madder…"

Soon, Spencer slipped from Derek's arms and started to storm off, unbuttoning his own jacket.

"I'm sorry, but seeing you mad is so sexy, yeah."

Derek ran over and grabbed onto Spencer's hand before he could remove it, guiding him back into his chest for a quick double leg flick. Spencer pushed his hand to Derek's chest and walked him a few steps back in the other direction.

"Could it be the little wrinkle over your nose? When you make your angry face…"

Spencer grimaced at Derek and the man let out a tendu and raised his arms in Spencer's in a four-count step, dancing around him in a strong, fluid stance.

"That makes me want to just take off all your clothes…"

Derek spun Spencer around and divested him of his jacket, tossing it to the side.

"And sex you all over the place, yeah…"

As Spencer's back was to him, Derek used that opportunity to reach around the dancer and run his hands searching his hands along his stable chest in five different grasps.

"Could it be the little way…"

Spencer pushed away from Derek with an angered grimace before being pulled back.

"You storm around, that makes me want to tear you down."

And, here came the lift. Derek grabbed Spencer by his side as he walked off and raised him on his left side. Spencer's leg lifted and he turned quickly in Derek's arms to pull himself into a bridal style hold, arms around Derek's neck as he stroked the side of his partner's face. Perfect.

"Baby, I ain't sure. But, one thing that I do know is…"

Spencer was released slowly to his feet and the two met in the middle once more for a two-step tango and a double spin, Derek's hand landing high on Spencer's thigh as he pulled it up his leg. He was getting tired of twirling, but the song's passion kept him into it big time.

"Every time you scream at me…"

Inside the waltz, Spencer leaned forward and hissed at him as he wrenched himself from Derek's arms, heading away with his back to his partner.

"I wanna kiss you…"

Derek grabbed his hand and twirled him back in. Spencer landed closer than he ever did before with his hand pressing into Derek's chest, but it was probably due to the cramped room. No matter, the moves were all the same. Not much has changed in the format of the dance. All it did was up the passion.

"Baby, when you put your hands on me…"

Spencer pulled his hands free, placed them on Derek's chest and pushed him away as violently as he could.

"I want to touch you…"

Derek grabbed the outstretched hands and performed a practiced swivel and a complicated five-step. There was a quirk in Spencer's eyebrow as he did. This would usually be the place where Spencer congratulates him, or pats him on the back, but seeing as they were hitting a stride, he chose not to.

"When we get to arguing…"

Spencer wrenched his hands from his once more and pointed at him in anger, seemingly surprised when Derek came back at him with a pointed finger of his own.

"Just gotta kiss you, baby."

Derek brought Spencer close and prepared to press a chaste kiss to Spencer's cheek, but then Spencer moved his head a fraction too much to the left and then oops. This wasn't planned. It so wasn't planned. This right here, was so totally not planned. But, it happened.

Their lips collided.

Whoa... shit.

Now, any man with a brain in Derek's situation, would move away and continue with the dance as if it didn't even happen, but by then, Spencer's hands raised to cup the sides of his face and—holy Jesus. Derek was kissing him. He couldn't help it. Spencer's lips were so warm and soft, like melted butter against his skin, and a moment barely passed before Spencer started kissing him back tentatively with passion building below it. Wow. Kid's not half bad. Spencer inched closer and their chests touched as their lips started to meld together. How did this happen? Derek doesn't know, but he's not looking a gift horse in the mouth, no thank you. Their characters broke in a gazillion pieces around them as Derek wrapped his arms around Spencer's body in a way he always wished he could, but never did. Spencer was trembling so nervously, and Derek soothed him with soft caresses up his back. The dancer whimpered and leaned up on his toes, standing taller than Derek as he responded to it, running his shaking hands over to Derek's shoulders and sliding them down to his chest. Derek turned his head to the side to deepen the angle and Spencer let out a quiet moan against his lips. He slid his hands back up Derek's chest and wrapped his arms around his neck, falling into his partner's body. Derek nudged gently at Spencer's lips and the dancer's mouth opened lightly against his as the music continued to play in the background.

Derek couldn't hear anything but his blood pounding in his veins. He couldn't feel anything except Spencer's lips and hands on him. Everything went gray and they were the only things in the universe in Technicolor. This kiss was a damned fairy tale. That should be weird, but… it wasn't. It was perfect.

Still kissing as passionately as they could, Derek placed one hand at the back of Spencer's neck before dipping him romantically. Spencer gave a soft chuckle against his lips and tightened his arms around Derek's shoulders to kiss him harder. Suddenly, Spencer gasped and pressed his hand to Derek's chest, pushing him at arms-length before staring at him with wide eyes and kiss reddened lips.

Derek laughed breathlessly, "Uh oh."

"…you're telling me," Spencer blinked, slowly agreeing, "Your technique could use some serious work."

Derek panted, wiping a line of spit from his chin, "Hey, I have on good authority that I'm a pretty decent—"

"I meant your Tango, not…" Spencer shook his head nervously, sliding his hand over his ear where he would usually brush his hair, "Oh, no, no. That's—ahem—that's uh… you have that covered."

Derek nodded easily and asked breathlessly, "Thank you. But... I gotta ask. Did you see that surprise ending coming or—"

Spencer sputtered, "No! Are you kidding? I thought you did!"

Derek shook his head, "Dude, I'm not nearly that clever."

Spencer shrugged, "You very well could be."

"Well, that's bullshit. Someone had to know what was going on. I mean, we were dancing and then we…" Derek took a deep breath, "…we just started making out."

Spencer pressed a hand to the side of his own face, closing his eyes and whispering, "Don't say it out loud!"

Derek deadpanned, "Oh, I'm so sorry. You just tripped and fell and I caught you with my lips. Then you stabilized yourself by shoving your tongue in my mouth. Is that put better?"

Spencer pointed a finger at Derek, "I did not shove my tongue in your mouth! And… if it did manage to slip in there, it wasn't my fault! You had your gigantic arms around me and shit. I mean, what was I supposed to do? Stand there like a rag doll?! Jeez! Why'd you even hold me like that in the first place?!"

Derek replied, "You were shivering."

Spencer paused and looked up at his dance partner, "...I was?"

"Yeah," Derek added, "It was cute."

Spencer smiled a bit and hung his head, hiding it as he played with his fingers absentmindedly, "I'm a grown man. I'm not cute…"

As Spencer lowered his head, a few curls escaped his styled 'do. Derek took a step forward. At that, Spencer's head snapped up, locking eyes with him. Derek reached across the short space and pushed the lock of hair behind his ear for him, smoothing out the side of the style with his hand. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a bobby pin he stole from the make-up counter, securing the curl so that it doesn't fall loose again.

During the whole ordeal, Spencer was watching him with steady eyes. Derek didn't remove his hand and instead slid it down his face gently as a whisper, lifting up his chin.

Spencer wrestled back his smile.

Derek said simply, "Wanna bet?"

Spencer bit his lip and murmured, "Stop looking at me like that."

Derek challenged, "I'll look at you any way I damn well please."

Spencer countered, face reddening by the second, "I'm your instructor, Derek. This is inappropriate. And I mean like highly, highly, highly inappropriate."

Derek challenged, "So?"

"You're making this very difficult," Spencer added pointedly.

Derek asked, "Why is it difficult? All you have to do is push me away. Tell me I'm gross, or you're not interested. I'll back off."

Spencer replied, "I could do that. It would make things a lot easier, but fact of the matter is none of that is… true."

Derek let out a huge smile, "So, you are interested."

Spencer sighed, pulling Derek's hand off of his face, "What difference does it make? We're not supposed to do this."

"Oh, yeah?" Derek supplied, "What about Mark Ballas and Sabrina Bryan?"

Spencer grimaced, "Don't you dare throw Mark Ballas and Sabrina Bryan at me."

Derek began to laugh, "Fine, fine. I won't."

Spencer folded his arms, "Good. Besides, your argument is totally invalid. Those two waited until they were out of the competition so that there wasn't a conflict of interest."

Derek scoffed, "Are you kidding me? There's always been a conflict of interest between us. If that kiss was anything to gauge from... we are really into each other."

Spencer blinked, skin flushing under Derek's words, "Well... I... we're not that..."

Derek challenged him with his eyes.

Spencer gulped, "Fine. Whatever. I'm insanely attracted to you, so what? Doesn't change anything."

Derek whispered, "Mark and Sabrina…"

There was a gentle buzzing sound in the distance and Spencer reached over a large hard drive for his jacket, pilfering inside the breast pocket. Spencer pointed a warning finger at him and pulled his phone out, sucking his teeth dispassionately as he scanned the caller ID, "Shit. It's a Greg, the PA."

Derek growled, "Fucking Greg..."

"Hello," Spencer answered his phone, leaning against the racks in his pristine tuxedo. The dim light of the iPod illuminated his features in such a hauntingly dark way that made him look like a modern day Dorian Gray or Mr. Darcy or something. He was perfect. Derek just wanted to take a picture. You know what? Fuck it. Derek fished his phone out of his back pocket and unlocked it, fiddling until he found the camera. Spencer was still chatting away with the PA as he glanced in Derek's direction. Derek pretended to press random buttons, making it look like he was sending a text message. Spencer sighed and gestured to his own phone. Derek made a funny face and Spencer smiled. Right before he rolled his eyes, Derek snapped the picture. His shutter sound was on silent, thank God, so Spencer wasn't the wiser, but it still made him feel like a ninja. Derek did a tiny ninja dance to celebrate. It was very small and all in his mind.

Spencer hung up the phone and sprinted to the iPod jack, pulling it away and shutting off the sound, "We're on in two more dances, man, we gotta go."

Derek asked, "That quickly?"

"Yeah," Spencer replied, tugging on his jacket as he headed to the door.

Derek stopped him with a hand over his.

Spencer paused and looked up at Derek, "What?"

"We're going to talk about what just happened, correct?"

Spencer smiled fondly and pressed a palm to Derek's cheek, "Do we have to?"

"Yes," Derek smiled back, leaning into the warm, long fingered hand.

"Ahh, fine. You win. But, wait." Spencer sighed, pulling Derek against the door so that his back was pressed against it and he was pinned between Spencer's, jacket-covered, thin arms.

Derek wiggled his eyebrows flirtatiously, "Not that I'm complaining, but… why am I against the door?"

Spencer reached up, grabbed Derek by the back of the head and pulled their lips into a soft, melodious kiss. Derek's hands snuck around to Spencer's hips as he melted into the embrace, gripping them as Spencer's hands slid down his shoulders. After a moment, Spencer turned his head, deepening the kiss with a light nip of his teeth against Derek's lower lip. Derek leaned forward and dipped into Spencer's lithe body, and in response, Spencer's fingers trailed up Derek's neck until they latched onto his strong jawline. They pressed closer and closer together until their bodies were fused from thigh to chest, Spencer's arms moved once more to be held around his neck and Derek's were holding him close. The two just stayed still like that for a moment, holding each other with their lips pressed together, soaking in the feeling of their kiss, reveling in how good it was to just touch.

Patting Derek's chest and backing out with a blushing face, Spencer said simply, "I figured that… if we were going to have an awkward talk, we should really have something to talk about."

Derek stared wordlessly after him as Spencer maneuvered around him and out of the door, blinking quickly. His mom was right. He needed to marry this man.

Derek had never danced with this much fire and passion and lust in his entire life, up to and including his bar-hopping years in Evanston. He Tangoed with Spencer so hard, that the dancer held deep blush during the entire ordeal. Derek now understands what Spencer was talking about when he said Derek wasn't Tangoing. The dance was essentially a list of moves, executed to perfection, and Derek strove for that. Now, that may even be required of a simple tango, but, that wouldn't be an Argentine Tango. The past week's rehearsals—what Derek was giving before—was not an accurate perception of the Argentine Tango, it was a fancy, passionless ballroom. But, boy, does he have passion now.

To get to the heart of the dance, he needed to truly feel it in his core. He needed to dance as if the person he was with was not only intoxicating in form, but sensual in style and grace and aura—as a whole. While Derek was attracted to Spencer previously, he hadn't experienced him. He'd wished and daydreamed, but he hadn't felt the dancer's body pressed against him in a kiss wrapped in pure, unadulterated heat. He hadn't held him and caressed him and breathed him in. He hadn't felt Spencer and known his body in ways that were all new and exciting.

Derek pulled him across the floor, snapped him close, and stared into his soul. He seduced Spencer with his vibe, dragged him in with his body, fucked him over the hardwood with his eyes, and Spencer took it all as greedily as he could. The dancer responded with a sharpness to his own movements. They were crisp, they were neat, they were so right.

Above all, Spencer executed the lift and nailed the flourish in a way that bitchslapped the whole audience from clapping to a still quietness so palpable that one could cut with a knife. He could feel them asking themselves, "Whoa, did he just nail that girly-ass lift?" The answer was "yes". He did it. As they continued with the dance, Spencer tried to hide his smile by biting his lips. He was proud of himself. He should be. Dude just shattered every single ballroom gender role to ever gender role. Men lift; they don't get lifted, and they damn sure don't get lifted by other men. But, Spencer handled it with such grace and simplicity, that the audience was forced into submission. They were so totally mentally bowing to the Prince.

Derek and Spencer approached the spot in the dance that they stopped at in the dusty equipment room, and the two edged shyly around it, sending knowing glances at each other as they finished the dance three measures later. The two ended crashing together on center stage. Derek pulls Spencer into an embrace and Spencer melts into it, his palms soft against Derek's suit.

Then, it got quiet.

Really quiet.

Spencer breathed against his chest hesitantly when, suddenly, there was a loud whoop from a single audience member.

"Didn't I tell you to tango with that white boy?! Yeah, 43! I see you, baby! Get it!" Derek's friend Marcus called out loudly. Wow. Ratchetness at its finest. There was a single clapping sound in the room. Then two more. Before they knew it, the audience suddenly erupted into applause as the lights dimmed and went back up, signifying the end of the performance. Derek breathed, "God, that was terrifying. I thought they weren't going to clap."

Spencer tugged Derek closer and tackled him into a neck hug, whispering, "Of course they were gonna! Where the heck did that crazy Tango come from?!"

Derek chuckled, pulling him over to the judges table and whispering back, "You."

The audience didn't quiet for a decent while. Even after they had arrived at the edge of the stage and stood beside the host. The host signaled to the crowd and they continued to scream. Spencer laughed at Derek's side. Derek looked over at him and decided that this was the moment.

He pulled Spencer's arm off from over his shoulders and bent down on one knee, flourishing his arms out in a stylistic bow. Spencer laughed harder and blushed, grabbing one of Derek's hands, trying to tug him up off of the floor, "I didn't expect you to actually bow!"

Derek winked and rose, "America saw that, man. You kick ass and now they all know it."

Spencer waved him off and Derek pulled him close again by his shoulder.

After several unsuccessful tries at calming the audience, the host screeched, "People, calm down, jeez!"

The audience let out a group laugh and quieted, giving the host time to breathe. He patted the men on the backs, "Holy crap, guys! I... wow. No words."

"I know, right?" Spencer smiled over at Derek, "He doesn't completely suck at the Tango after all."

The host laughed, "After that intro video, we thought he might never get it."

Spencer shrugged, "So did I!"

"Well, practice makes perfect," the host answered easily, gesturing to the judges' desk, "David. You seem to have something to say."

David Rossi was standing and pointing at Derek in an accusatory fashion, "Who gave you permission?"

Derek paused, "... sorry?"

David pointed, "Who gave you permission to go to Argentine, live and breathe the Tango for seven years, and then hit us with that?! There's simply no way you've only been doing that for a week. There's no way. I'm calling bull. He had the moves like clockwork the whole time, it was the lust he had missing! The pure sexual tension that was the Argentine Tango, and you can't make someone feel that. You can't teach passion. Or can you… Doc?"

The audience cheered in response and Spencer blushed red, hands flying up to cover his face.

David winked, "Have you two been naughty boys?"

Derek lied easily, "No. We've been the picture of innocence."

"Well, for a dance virgin, you have a very unconvincing pelvic thrust," David shook his head and sat with a smile, "Your attack points were crisp and even, there was a bit of struggle on a tendu, but I'm not even going to look at that. You're a football player. If you can point your toe like a prima this early in the competition, something's terribly wrong, but promise me you'll work on it. Altogether, you wowed us, and I'm convinced that you've been lying to us when you entered the competition."

Jennifer laughed, "You mean, he's like secretly a pro and the whole show is rigged?"

David nodded, "Exactly."

Jennifer took hold of the judging station, "The two of you have this incredible chemistry, and we've seen it grow and manifest since day one. It's just… wow. It's bigger than us, and I am such a strong supporter of you two. And, yeah, I admit to following the #TeamMoreid tag on Twitter."

The audience laughed once more.

"What, you two are cute! I ship it, okay? I can't be blamed," Jennifer joked, adding, "Now, I know you don't have it easy being the first same-sex team to ever exist on the show, and you're both handling it with so much professionalism. Like, for example, take Doc and that lift. I know that couldn't have been easy for you, re-learning every dance and doing moves no self-respecting man would be caught dead doing, nevermind doing them well. And Derek, you're Mr. Macho Man Football Player. Dancing with Doc must be a bit weird for you. We know that you're getting bad press from ESPN, SiriusXM, Sports Illustrated—which I think you modeled for last year, right?"

Derek winked as a response. Nothing more, just a wink and the word, "November."

Jennifer giggled and fanned herself, "Oh, trust me. I know."

Aaron Hotchner placed his hand on top of hers, "Jennifer, honey. The dance."

"Oh, right!" she added simply, "I loved it! Wonderful. Stylistic. David was right when he said 'professional'. This dance was just the essence of ballroom and it was such a good Tango so early in the season, that I challenge the other couples to do as well as you did on this. Congratulations. I see big things for you two."

The crowd clapped.

Aaron spoke, "Well, let's talk posture, Derek."

The crowd booed.

Aaron rolled his eyes and continued, "I've told you time and time again. Doc is your height if not taller than you, so you don't need to dip so far when gliding with him. Anticipate he'll meet you at eye level. This is the best place to have a partner. You have the instant eye contact, which is the key opportunity to make your dance a little more perfect every time. You can trust each other, and I see you do, but when you have that connection, it's even stronger."

David added with a laugh, "How strong do you want the connection, Aaron? It was strong as hell as it is! Any stronger and they'd be rolling around naked on the floor! This is a family show. I think their eye contact is fine."

Aaron shrugged and replied, "I never said it wasn't. I just asked Derek to correct his posture. This isn't a giraffe dancing with a cat. These are two giraffes, and one giraffe doesn't seem to know that the other giraffe's a giraffe. Is this making sense?"

Derek piped in, "Oh, I know Spencer's a giraffe, it's just weird."

Spencer remarked, "Derek's shorter, so he should be doing the effeminate moves, but his form is too strong for it. I'm taller, so it would make sense for me to dance the left, but I have enough training to know both sides. So, we're kind of… flailing a little."

Derek chuckled, "And you have a lady butt."

Spencer turned to Derek and hissed, "I do not have a lady butt!"

Derek snickered, "Yes, you do. Baby got back."

Spencer smacked Derek's arm and Derek clapped Spencer's shoulder just as hard. The dancer scrunched his face up, "Ow!"

Derek replied, "That's what your punk ass gets for hitting me."

Spencer answered with a smile, "I'll get you later."

Derek wiggled his eyebrows, "Ooh."

The audience laughed as Aaron finished, "Anyway. Giraffes and butts aside, this was a very well done dance. Not at all puerile in tactic, and it saddens me to hear what recent sports networks have been saying about you. This is a sport, this is hard work. It takes dedication, training, sweat and pain and it takes an even stronger man to do all of this with another man on national television. Especially in this day and age where homophobia and gender roles aren't becoming taboo quickly enough. I respect the two of you and all the work you're putting in—not despite, but in face of your complex situation."

The host raised his hand, "Can I borrow your boys, judges?"

Jennifer stretched her hands before her, "No. My boys. Mine."

The host chuckled, "I'm sorry, but they have to hear their scores."

Jennifer thrust her hands along, "Fine, take my loves if you must."

The host directed the two of them toward the steps and Spencer furrowed his eyebrows, looking over at Derek with worry in his eyes as he whispered, "What were they talking about when they said bad press?"

Derek shrugged, "Just that. Agreeing to dance with you wasn't the best move for my image, and I knew it when I signed up. But, I don't care. I wanted to learn to dance, and have the experience, and meeting you didn't suck completely."

Spencer pulled his arm closer around him, "I didn't think the public eye would end up being so… closed minded. I didn't think it would be that bad."

Derek sighed, heading up the steps, "It is that bad. It's actually worse than the Marcus thing."

"How? You kissed a dude on a football field, this can't be worse than that." Spencer asked, walking quickly beside him as Derek's arm fell from his shoulders.

Derek laughed, "First of all, he kissed me okay? And it was in the heat of a win. I didn't hold his hand in public and dance around with him for three weeks and counting. If I was still in the game, this would be an instant career killer. Hell, if I were to quit, I would pull something like this before doing it. That's how undone this is in the ball community."

Spencer paused, walking calmly up the last three steps, "Wow. I never really understood what this is for you. What you're giving up."

Derek replied with a smile, "I believe in us. We can win."

Spencer smiled back quietly, ducking his head as they strode up to the female host at the top of the steps. She was clad in a long, beautiful fire truck red dress. It had sequins at the brassiere and widened at the hip. Something a girl would wear to a formal dance. The host grinned, "Hey, guys, how are you feeling about your prom after that heated little diddy there?"

"Pretty self-explanatory, don't you think," Derek said to her, winking suggestively.

Spencer started to laugh and nudged him, "Derek, could you please not?"

The host grinned and gave the camera an entertained look before asking them, "Well, do you two want to see your scores?"

Spencer nodded, folding his arms and standing close to Derek, "Lay it on us."

The television screen showed the three judges sitting with smiles on their faces. Alright. Good sign, good sign. Derek spared a glance at Spencer and bit his lip in nervousness. Aaron Hotchner raised his paddle.

"9!" the host said.

Spencer wiggled beside him. Beside Aaron, Jennifer raised her paddle with a sly grin on her face.

"10!" the host shouted, "The first 10 of the season!"

Derek pumped his fist in the air and Spencer held in a poorly concealed screech as he started to jump up and down. David smiled to the camera and raised his paddle.

"9!" the host said once more, "We can't believe it! One tens and two nines for Team Wild Card!"

Derek could barely hold in his grin and Spencer had just resorted to smacking Derek's arm over and over again, a giant beam on his face.

The host asked, "How do you guys feel about that score?"

Spencer started, "We're very humbled by the judges' decisions and—"

Derek interrupted, "Woo! We did awesome! We the baddest! Spence, ain't we the baddest?"

Spencer shrugged and gave in to the feeling, "We did do pretty incredibly."

"There we go! Inflate that head!" Derek said, grabbing onto Spencer's shoulders firmly and shaking them.

The host laughed and gestured to them, "Well, that evens out to a score of 28 out of 30! Tune in America to see great dancing and more after this commercial break."

The red light above the camera went off and Spencer tackled Derek into another hug, kissing his bald head enthusiastically before the two men walked over to the team couch on Cloud fucking Nine. They collapsed onto the material and openly accepted the cheers and jibes of awe coming from their costars. Spencer slapped hands, laughed, and joked along with his fellow dancers and much to their surprise, Derek Hough himself patted Spencer's back and said, "Good job. Your Tango was almost better than mine. Mainly because Derek Morgan was dancing the leading part, but, you know. The compliment's still there."

Spencer cocked his head to the side and smirked, "And, who got the first ten of the season?"

Hough laughed and winked, "Fine, fine. I'll get you next week my pretty. And your little guest star too!"

Emily hung off of his shoulder, "We're going to nail you guys on next week's 'Time of my Life' Challenge. Guaranteed."

Derek scoffed, "You're on."

The final dancers were Will and Peta, their arch nemeses. The two had a Viennese Waltz, and damn them if they didn't squeeze a "10" out of David. But, Jennifer and Aaron held their ground. Will had great posture and form, but his dance was a little weakened because he faded in and out of character while dancing with Peta. Penelope whispered to Derek that he had been staring over at the judges' desk repeatedly during the performance. Derek wondered if the country singer was worried about his score, but Penelope was nearly 100% positive that "Deep South" Will had a crush on Jennifer. It wouldn't be that outlandish an idea. Jennifer was a very pretty woman. But, she's also on the panel, deciding his fate. It's inappropriate.

Derek then paused his train of thought.

He's not really one to judge, seeing how his relationship with Spencer is steering out of the Platonic Lane and merging into the Sexual Frustration Station.

He stole a glance over at Spencer whom was looking stunning as can be in his tux, laughing and chatting like the handsome little fucker he is. A hand touched Derek's shoulder and he glanced backward at Penelope, whom was lounging beside him in a fluffy pink ball gown. Her red hair was done up with curls and a tiara—even her glasses were pink! She looked like she'd be the belle of any ball.

Penelope asked, "So… that was one fiery dance you and Doc did there."

Derek shrugged, "Well, you know. A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do."

"And this man's gotta do his dance partner?" she giggled with an airy titter.

Derek rolled his eyes, "I'm not doing Spencer."

"Okay, suppose for a second I believe you," she started, "The two of you still went God knows where for a half hour to practice getting up in each other's space in a place with no cameras."

Derek looked away with a simple retort, "Yeah. Doesn't mean anything happened. We rehearsed. Isn't that what we're supposed to do? Take advantage of the time we have before the show?"

She raised her eyebrows.

Derek added, "What? We were in a dusty ass wire closet. It's not like we went to Upandi."

Penelope stared longer.

Derek looked both ways to see if anyone could hear them before leaning closer, "I can trust you, right?"

She replied, "You're my brother from another mother."

Derek walked around to the other side of the couch and said as quietly as he could, "Spencer and I went to the closet to rehearse the dance. He was scared to do the lift because he didn't think he'd be able to nail it. He spent his whole life dancing the strong male portion of the dance, and now he has to flourish all over the place as well as re-learn everything he knows. Not being perfect is finally getting to him."

Penelope gasped and held a hand to her mouth, "I had no clue! Oh, Derek, I'm so sorry. Is he okay?"

Derek nodded, "He's alright. It took a decently sized chill pill, but he finally calmed down."

She sighed, "Oh, thank goodness."

Derek added quietly as he could, "Plus, we totally made out in the wire closet. That might have contributed, I don't know."

Penelope gasped once more, hitting Derek's arm to accentuate every word she uttered, "What?! No way!"

Derek grinned, "It came out of nowhere. You were right. That dance is really… you know. It got the better of us."

Penelope shoved Derek's shoulder, "Shut up. Shut. Up!"

Derek chuckled and said under his breath, "Son of a bitch shoved me into a door too. Wasn't messin' around at all."

Penelope whispered back, "Whoa! A door?! I would have never guessed. He puts up this virginal front, and—"

Derek cackled quietly, "Spencer? A virgin? Oh, God. Don't make me laugh."

"'Crouching tiger, hidden dragon', huh?" Penelope breathed.

"Definitely," Derek replied, "He'd kill me if he knew I told you."

She blinked, "Wow, so are you two…"

Derek lifted his palms, "No! No way. We're not together. It was just a one-time situation, but… you know… if sexual tension was a scale of one to ten, we have successfully reached 'destiel'."

Penelope's eyebrows raised, "Damn."

Derek added, "Poor guy is trying so hard to get out of talking about it with me. Makes me wonder."

She waved her hand around, "He's into you, don't worry."

Derek glanced across the couch at his brown-eyed dance partner, "I wouldn't be so sure…"

Penelope spoke a thought, "I would. He holds your hand on live television."

Derek discounted, "It's a publicity stunt."

Penelope raised a pointer finger, "He looks at you funny."

Derek answered, "He's nearsighted and his contacts are drying out on him."

Penelope folded her arms, "He blushes around you all the time."

Derek scoffed, "He blushes at everything. The wind blows and he blushes. He sees a hamburger and he blushes. You mention the fourth season of Heroes and he blushes. It makes no sense."

Penelope narrowed her eyes at him, "At this point, I think you're trying to win this argument."

Derek sighed, "I don't know, Baby Girl… you did hear what David said about Spencer being able to teach anything but passion. Maybe… maybe Spencer did teach it. In the wire closet."

"Wait, wait, wait," Penelope raised her palm, "You think that Doc could have manipulated your attraction to him to get the perfect dance out of you?"

Derek replied, "Key words: could have."

Penelope attempted to smack him once more, "Dude, key words: wouldn't have! He's not that much of a jerk. Besides, I don't think Doc is capable of that level of bullshit. He can't even lie right."

Derek murmured, "Yeah, he can."

Penelope called over the couch, "Hey, Doc!"

Spencer turned, "Yeah?"

Penelope asked simply, "You ever fantasize about Harry Potter?"

Spencer went red and blinked rapidly, "Wh—what? Why… I never. No, P-penelope. No."

Penelope looked over at Derek, "See? His lilywhite ass couldn't bluff if he wanted to."

Derek asked, "How did you know about that?"

Penelope replied, "He's a nerd with an ambivalent sexuality. Of course he's fantasized about Harry Potter."

Derek looked over to his dance partner, whom was back into a binding conversation with goth singer, Emily Prentiss. He wonders what they're talking about. Like Derek and Penelope, Spencer and Emily had carved out their own little private Idaho on their side of the couch. Their heads were leaned close and chatting with grins on their faces, obviously geeking out about something.

Penelope glanced over her shoulder, "Well, don't they look chummy?"

Derek let out a pause, "Yeah, he's got his geek face on. Lord knows what they're talking about, but I bet five dollars it's science related."

Penelope laughed, "Probably is. Hey, I'm going to go get a glass of water. Want one?"

Derek nodded, eyes on the talking pair, "Yeah. Thanks."

Penelope stood in a rush of pink tool, "Alright. I'll be right back. Don't go nowhere, handsome."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Derek said distractedly.

As Penelope left, he strained his ears over and listened as best he could. He couldn't make out much, but what he did hear contained a lot of weird throaty sounds. Were they speaking Russian? Wow. Of course Spencer knows Russian. Derek doesn't even know why he's shocked. He should really know better at this point than to assume he was monolingual.

Derek leaned back on the couch and watched as the closing ceremony went by below him was fed live on the televisions in front of the couches. He got a peek into some of his competitors' dances. Penelope and Gleb did the cutest Lindy Hop he's ever seen. Emily and Derek Hough swept across the stage in a spellbinding contemporary piece. The racist comedian barely put up a Jive, and the sexy actress Ashley Seaver stumbled her way through a quickstep. Next, Derek and Spencer's dance was given a little five second spotlight, and wow. They were… sexier than he thought they would be. The part they showed was the lift, and boy, seeing it in the mirror in sweaty tee shirts couldn't even compare to how it looked put together on a television with lights and make up and a stage wow.

Derek looked strong and passionate and Spencer was just as so, each move telling a story. And as Derek's character raised his beloved above him, he did it not just for the hell of it, but because he was putting his love before him and above him in all ways. Yeah, he pokes fun at his date, but he truly loves the man, and won't hesitate to show it. Spencer's character knew how loved he was, and instead of pushing back, he accepted it. The dancer fell into his arms in ease. Sure, he was pissed at his date for dancing with another woman, but he also truly loves his man, and won't hesitate to show it.

Spencer was lowered to the ground, his foot crisply grazing the floor as Derek pulled him along before setting him down, as if he was afraid to let him go. They looked into each other's' eyes, and continued on with the quick four-step seamlessly.

Their clip ended and moved on to the next, and Derek felt eyes on him, turning his head to glance at whomever was staring at him. It was Spencer. His expression was unreadable, yet, there was a meaning in his large brown eyes that Derek wished to God he understood. Spencer's lips curled up in a toothless smile and he raised his hands to clap handsomely, nodding his head in recognition, grinning across the couch, "Nice lift."

Derek laughed and winked, "All for you, baby."

Spencer chuckled, waving a hand at him, "Better be, handsome."

Derek tossed over a goofy impression of the Blue Steel.

"Oh, my-" Spencer fell into a pile of snickers, leaning his head into Emily's shoulder for support.

She giggled and pointed, "Fucking A, man."

Spencer shook his head and laughed, "It's his sexiness. We're not strong enough to behold it."

Derek gave him another Zoolander look and balled up a napkin, throwing it across the bustling couch. Spencer threw one back and stuck his tongue out at him. Derek rolled his eyes at him fondly, "Mature."

Spencer mumbled out, a smile on his face, "You're… mature."

Derek teased, "Awesome comeback, kid."

Spencer bit his lip and answered, "You're an… awesome comeback…" The dancer failed in holding back the stare as his head leaned against the back of the couch. He bit his lip again and gave Derek a solid look down. Derek pointed to himself and Spencer covered his face with his hand for a moment and when it dropped, his face was pink. The football player continued to stare back, a confident smile on his face as Spencer pushed his hair behind his ear. Derek winked and Spencer's blush deepened.

Emily asked, "You want a towel for the drool, Doc?"

Spencer blushed a deeper shade of red and nervously muttered, "I wasn't drooling," while he wiped along his chin, "Was I though? Honestly."

Penelope plunked down on the couch, severing the eye contact between the two dancers, "They were all out of Dasani, so I got you sparkling. Is that alright?"

Derek nodded, taking the can from her, "Thank you, Mama."

She raised her can, clinking it against his, "Here's to being at the top of the leaderboard."

"Amen to that." Derek added, "You're number three, girl. Sooner or later, I'm going to have to go after you."

She smirked, "And you're number one, boy. Ditto."

Derek grinned, "Bring it."

A/N: Next week, as the recently acknowledged sexual tension rises, things get scandalous in the studio. *gasp* What will happen? Stick around, and you won't be disappointed.

Love,

Blue