A/N: This chapter is also embarrassingly long as well, so... yep. And there's a big giant helping of Spencer!whump. More apologies, but they had to be done. This chapter explains a lot even though it's kind of porny. Which is weird. I write a lot of guy-on-guy for a lesbian.

Love,

Blue

Raising the Barre

CHAPTER ELEVEN: Twelve Hours Straight Streaming

Derek couldn't go back to sleep with his mind racing as it did, and he ended up rising just minutes after reading Spencer's little note. After a shower, some breakfast, and several scrubs of a toothbrush, he ended up at the studio an hour earlier than scheduled.

There was soft piano music wafting from the top of the dimly lit steps of the rehearsal room and Derek walked toward it. The lights flickered a bit as they sometimes do. This building is kind of old, even though it doesn't look it and the wiring? Ugh. Derek doesn't even want to think about it. He tip toed over to the door, the piano music growing louder. It was a sad rendition of a song that Derek found familiar, but not familiar enough to spark any memory. As he peered into the door window, he saw Spencer practicing at the barre in a pre-stretch. He was sliding into second position, moving into fifth and raising his hand above his head before lowering his body at the waist. He lifted up and moved his foot to second, gently falling into a grands plié after a regular one, dipping low to the ground as his fingertips brushed the polished hardwood.

He raised his free hand in front of him and placed himself back at first position, completing a demi plié and rising up to his toes in his scuffed black jazz shoes. His hair was pulled back in a loose pony tail once more, a few tendrils hanging down as he bent down into grands. The music got louder and he closed his eyes, falling from position to position. He barely even had to think about it, and at this point, he shouldn't have to. It was effortless, graceful, beautiful. He danced like outside forces were moving him.

Then, the music looped and played to another song. It also leant heavily on piano, but instead a soft voice sang along with it. Spencer slipped out of his structured steps and sashayed to the center of the floor, his eyes still sealed. He tendued and leaned forward, slowly lifting his back leg to fall parallel to an outstretched arm. He acknowledged the mirror with a subtle bow and twirled into a kick change, back straight and chin raised. With strength in his calf, he lifted himself up onto one foot, turning, tucking a leg and turning once more. Derek had never seen that move before, but… wow, it was marvelous.

As Spencer danced, Derek nudged open the door and stood in the space between it and the door frame. The dancer ran gracefully to one side of the room and did that stretching move again. Derek thinks it's called an arabesque. Whoa.

Spencer raised his hands to the sky and turned, bringing them in on himself before running to the opposite side of the room and giving that an answering arabesque. The music swelled and Spencer made his way back to the center of the room, a no doubt unconscious smile on his face as he made use of all of the free space with several clean spins. He tucked his hands into himself, stretching an arm out suddenly. He let the stretched arm propel him into a gracefully disjointed run before stopping abruptly to rise on his toes, turn and fall back to a broad jump with his hands in fifth.

So, this is what ballet looked like.

Spencer danced from once side to the other, slowing as the woman's voice quieted and the music picked up. She was singing about the how hard it was for her to love—how she lives in her head, how scared she was to lose herself. Yet, she wants someone to make her fall again. Because even though she's scared… she's ready. The music was beautiful. The dancing was beautiful. Spencer was beautiful. Derek didn't hold back this time as he looked at him, eyes full of adoration.

He smiled as Spencer shoved himself into the dance, eyes still closed, the moves becoming more and more modern as he added step after step to it. He jumped and ran, writing his own story as it went. He gave and took and turned and leapt. There seemed to be no end to his art. He was so incredible, it was nuts. And as the song built more and more, Spencer's energy just seemed to heighten. He sharpened his movements, shrouding them in feeling and emotion that Derek could barely comprehend.

The song started to slow, and with it, so did his partner's moves in soft, subtle spins.

Then, the song ended. Spencer stood, facing the mirror, eyes opening to train on his reflection as he panted at it in reverence. The next song began seamlessly, another instrumental. Derek watched him catch his breath and raised his hands under his chin, clapping them slowly. Spencer jumped and looked over his shoulder, blushing and hiding his face in his hands as he mumbled between his fingers, "You scared me, Derek! God, what are you doing here so early?! I set the alarm clock for seven—you weren't supposed to see this."

Derek grinned proudly, "Well, I'm glad I did, because… wow."

Spencer wiped sweat from under his chin, "That was just a piece I'm trying to integrate into the ballet company's summer preview. It still needs work, and it changes every time I dance it, so… I don't know. It's something."

Derek added, striding into the room, "Well, I liked it."

"It was mostly improvised, I'm toying with music choice; there was nothing to like," Spencer reached up and pushed his sweaty hair out of his face, pulling his hair free from the ponytail and keeping the black band on his wrist, "And don't you put on those eyes, trying to flatter me, it gets you nowhere. You should know this already."

Derek closed the door behind him and replied, "Yeah, I know, but... you see, there's this thing called a compliment. They're free and I give them out on rare occasions. Learn to take them."

Spencer chuckled lazily and pulled his sweatshirt collar from his neck, waving it a few times in an attempt to cool himself down, "You're not funny."

Derek started to step further into the room, eyes locked on Spencer's, "I'm not being funny, Spencer. You're really fucking talented. It's kind of scary to see all of that crazy stuffed inside that tiny little body."

Spencer quirked his eyebrows, giving Derek a sultry look up and down, "You have no idea, babe."

Derek walked closer, reaching toward Spencer with open arms, "I think I might."

Spencer's grin slowly faded, as the time he spent coming down from it staring into Derek's eyes with something hidden behind his own. On his plump lips was a smooth smile, similar to the one he wore when he was dancing. He bit gently on his lower lip as Derek gazed back fondly and scratched behind his neck, "You're not even supposed to be here right now. The cameras aren't on yet, and I could get major hell for—"

Derek interrupted, "Wait, the cameras aren't on in here?"

Spencer shrugged nonchalantly, "They don't come on until 7:35am and then they turn off at 7:35pm. Twelve hours straight streaming. God, I'd hate to be the guy who combs through all of that."

Derek asked, "What time is it?"

Spencer glanced across the room and squinted to get a look at the black and white checkered clock above the door, "It is… 7:13."

"So, then I can do this?" Derek took Spencer's face in his hands and pressed a slow, loving kiss to his lips, "Good morning, sexy."

Spencer melted against him, leaning into his arms and kissing him back tenderly, "Mmm, stop that. I'm blushing."

"Good," Derek wiggled his eyebrows, "I feel like such a badass right now, you have no idea. I mean, I just kissed you in the studio. That is the exact equivalent of a student kissing their professor on their desk. Extra points because you're a doctor."

Spencer chuckled, "I didn't even think of it like that until now."

Derek grinned, "Well, I think of it like that very often."

Spencer asked, "Kissing me on a desk?"

Derek shook his head, "Kissing you in the studio."

"No," Spencer scoffed, "No. You're a decent man."

Derek nudged his partner, "I wouldn't be so sure, because this room—this spot right here? Fantasy location #1."

"You're not serious," Spencer chuckled.

Derek kept his suggestive glance locked on Spencer and said nothing.

Spencer's eyes widened and he took a step back, face gaining its color back, "Derek. I'm not fucking you in here! This the set of a family show! We could get arrested!"

Derek waved him off, "You don't have to. I'm just saying. Fantasy location."

"I..." Spencer bit his lip and nodded slowly, "...I see what you mean."

Derek asked, "You do?"

Spencer revealed, "I've had a thought or two about this place. You know, since we started playing tonsil hockey in Tristan's bathroom during break and everything. Not on purpose, mind you. My mind has just been known to stray."

Derek barked out a laugh and clapped, "No fucking way."

Spencer shrugged, "Hardwood floors, soft curtains, music playing in the background. It's not really a turn off."

Derek murmured with a shoulder wiggle, "Hmm, okay."

Spencer tip toed closer to him to wrap his arms around his shoulders, "…don't judge me."

"I won't if you won't, pretty boy," Derek replied with a kiss to his lips.

Spencer wrinkled his nose, "Again with the 'pretty boy'? Really?"

Derek answered, "Would you rather I called you 'Snookums Cuddlebear Mc Cute-Cute'?"

Spencer's face fell flat as he spat out, "If I ever hear you calling me that, I'll rip your lungs out through your mouth."

"Ow," Derek pinched his cheek, "Pretty Boy it is."

Spencer growled, "If you insist, I can deal with it. But, seriously, if you call me the Snookums Cuddle-thing… watch your back. I did time, dude. I'll shiv ya."

"You did one night in a holding cell," Derek rolled his eyes, "Martha Stewart did more time than you. And I'm pretty sure she's way scarier."

Spencer pouted, "What?! I could totally take Martha Stewart. Blindfolded. With a hand tied behind my back."

Derek laughed aloud, "You sure about that? She spends a lot of time around kitchen knives. Bitch is pretty intimidating."

Spencer pushed his hair behind his ear, "Well, I'm certainly intimidating enough when I need you to do your damn lunge stretches."

"Yeah! You are!" Derek snickered, "You know what else about you intimidates me?"

Spencer asked, "What?"

Derek laughed out, "How quickly you fucking came last night. Oh, my God. I never thought I'd stop laughing."

Spencer abruptly turned red, smacking at Derek's arm, "You said you wouldn't bring that up again!"

Derek cackled, "I've seen Dora the Explorer take longer asking us what's in her own damn backpack than it took for you to cream yourself, man."

Spencer growled, "Derek!"

Derek shook his head and took a step back to lean against the barre, "It took the real Slim Shady longer to please stand up than it took you to jizz—"

Spencer raised a warning finger to Derek, "Derek, I swear to God."

Derek chuckled, "You lasted a shorter time than a cheetah crossing a room. You expect me to let that slide? Oh, no. You'll be hearing this."

Spencer narrowed his eyes at Derek, "Fuck you."

Derek wiped a tear from his eye, "Well, you literally blew the chance to do so..."

Spencer grimaced, "Unbelievable."

Derek mocked him gleefully, "Unf, uh, Derek, oh yeah—oh, shit! I'm so sorry."

Spencer hissed, "You're dead to me."

Their Viennese Waltz was nearly pristine, and the two men knew it. By the end of their final studio rehearsal, the two couldn't wait to show up on Sunday for their stage rehearsal. It began as a strict waltz, which was pretty, really. But, dear God in Heaven, it was boring. Derek wanted to claw his own eyes out while doing it, because of how oversimplified it was. He could barely even watch them in the mirror during practice. Two days ago, he was trying his hardest not to throw a bitchfit about it. The dance was nice, crisp, well done, but it wasn't something he wanted to dedicate to his father. He wanted the dance he did to resonate with him and spread his heart all over the hardwood stage.

Much to Derek's surprise, Spencer agreed with him. In an explosion of anger, the dancer begged Derek to reconsider a sudden re-choreograph. Two days before their performance.

That day and all of Sunday morning, they dedicated their time to reconstructing the dance until it was as good as they could make it. It took time, and they had to run to Hough's studio to borrow a physical copy of the rule book to see what they could and could not get away with doing. The dance ended up a very contemporary version of the Viennese Waltz by Sunday night's rehearsal. They partner danced, but only one third of the song was dedicated to their hands being joined. Spencer was lifted, Derek did a few Latin inspired moves, and they brought each other close for an almost kiss (mainly as a jibe at what David Rossi had said about their chemistry last week). I mean, they changed everything. Even the song rendition. The men had called up the music manager and asked to have a rendition of the same song covered by Birdy instead of the Bon Iver original.

The damned thing was very nearly interpreted modern-contemporary with a just enough ballroom to stab you in the heart with emotions. It was everything Derek wasn't looking to do, but he knew that by the time that they'd finished it, there wouldn't be a dry eye in the room.

When Derek and Spencer made their way to the large group of dancers crowded backstage to rehearse, they got round after round of "I'm so sorry about what happened" referring to the last time they were on the stage on elimination night. Everyone acted super shocked that they would get gay bashed and humiliated on national television. It's not like the first two-man ballroom dancing team on the show would ever provoke unwanted attention. Derek kept his eyes from rolling toward the ceiling as long as he could.

They had assured everyone that they were fine, it was all no big deal, and they were ready to kick ass tomorrow night.

Emily and Penelope walked over to the two men and they stared at them expectantly as the other groups began chatting. The girls smiled and Emily asked, "Hey, guys. What's up?"

Derek said cockily, "We're just mentally preparing ourselves for the slaughter of your teams tomorrow."

Spencer shoved at Derek's shoulder and answered them with a simple, "Ignore him."

"If you say so, Doc," Penelope giggled, "On a lighter note. Derek… what's the verdict? Are you guys a modern day Jack and Ianto or what?"

Spencer cocked his head to the side, "Jack and Ianto?"

Derek gave them a firm look.

Penelope raised her palms in defense, "Oh, he said 'no'? I'm sorry. I didn't know. I just assumed."

Spencer folded his arms and looked over to Derek, "What did I say 'no' to? What's going on?"

Emily observed, "Ooh, he's mad…"

Derek leaned over and whispered so as not to be overheard, "I told them when I left our little coffee night that I would head over to your place and ask you out. No biggie."

Spencer's eyes widened as he hissed, shoving Derek away from him with hands at his chest, "You told them about our deal, Derek? What the hell?!"

Derek shrugged, "I didn't think it was a big deal, dude, chill out."

"Chill out? Chill out?!" Spencer erupted, "You blabbed and I'm supposed to just chill out?! What else have you told them?!"

Derek hissed, "Nothing!"

The crowd of dancers went quiet and looked over at them as Spencer shook his head, growling out angrily, "No one was supposed to know!"

Derek pointed back, "You never said that!"

Spencer yelled, "It was implied!"

Derek whipped back, "Really? Was it? When? Am I supposed to read your mind now?"

"Of course not! You were supposed to be honest with me, that's what the hell you were supposed to do! I mean—" Spencer spat out, "Do you know how this whole thing makes me look?!"

Derek hissed, "Man, you don't look anything but half-crazy! Calm down. You're making a scene."

Spencer hissed back, "Oh, so now I'm the one making a scene! I'm the one acting crazy when you're spreading my shit around like it's public fucking news!"

Derek glared, "You know what? You want to blow up over something stupid, fine!"

Spencer growled, "Fine!"

Derek leaned into Spencer's face and breathed out, "Fine."

"Fine!" Spencer raised his middle finger at Derek, seemingly way past words. He shook his head and pushed through the crowd, heading God knows where.

Derek sucked his teeth and started to follow him through the people, "Oh, so now you're just going to walk away, man? You're gonna ignore me like a fucking child?!"

Spencer hissed back, "Yes, I am and I dare you to follow me!"

Derek stopped in the crowd of dancers and hissed a swear under his breath.

The room was quiet enough that one could hear a pin drop.

Hough chuckled and spoke up, "Trouble in paradise?"

Derek growled, "Shut up, Derek."

Penelope gasped out, "Wait, both of your names are Derek?!"

Time came for Team Wild Card to have their rehearsal time with the stage, and Spencer came out on the other side of the stage, shoving his cell phone in his back pocket. The man was clearly a smoking volcano, and no one wanted to be anywhere near him. The crowd parted as he made his way through. He got stares and whispers, but he didn't give one single fuck. It was Derek he was mad at. God help him.

Spencer approached him at the center of the stage, "You don't talk to me, understand?"

Derek sighed, "But, Spence—"

The dancer cut him off, "Did I stutter?"

The music director's assistant, Brad gave the warning wave, counting down. When all of his fingers go down, the music goes live and the entire dance gets watched by the producers, sound, and camera operatives so that they all know when to zoom, when to follow, and when to give broad view. There were over thirteen different cameras and ten speakers that all needed cues. After they danced it once, they rough danced it once more to get actual cues sussed out. They would dance it a final time to hammer it out, and on the day of the show everything should be perfect as far as tech goes.

Brad's fingers went down one by one and they parted, a half stage from each other. The piano melded into the room and the two men began walking toward each other to begin the dance. Birdy began to sing and Spencer took a step forward as Derek took a step back. Spencer wouldn't look at him as he placed his arms in waltz position and let them down. Derek did the same move and the two looked out toward the empty crowd at the same time. Derek lifted Spencer's hand and kissed it as she went through the first "my, my, my's" and Spencer rolled his eyes as they did a slow cha-cha and ended with Spencer facing the crowd, Derek behind him. In second position, Spencer shifted his footing to the beat of her words back and forth until the piano swelled and Birdy sang, "Tell my love to wreck it all."

Spencer turned to face him and the two fell into a waltz around the stage and Derek looked straight into Spencer's eyes, twirling him once as they made their way to rounding a large semi-circle. Derek grabbed Spencer securely by the waist and lifted him high as he spun them in a slow circle. The dancer leaned back, arms bent into right angles behind his head as the "my, my, my's" were sang again. Hands balled in fists as Derek set him down closely.

"Staring at the sink of blood and crushed veneer."

Spencer still refused to meet his eyes as Derek held him to his chest. The song was neatly cut right to the pre-chorus and Derek held his arms out to fall into the waltzing position by the time Birdy sand again.

"I told you to be patient, and I told you to be fine. I told you to be balanced, and I told you to be kind."

They began to waltz again and Derek twirled him once again as they reached the peak of the pre-chorus.

"In the morning, I'll be with you, but it will be a different kind."

Spencer left his side a beat too early, but they knew the dance so well that it didn't set them back not one step.

"Cuz I'll be holding all the tickets, and you'll be owning all the fines…"

Derek watched as Spencer pulled a handful of cut papers out of his pockets and Derek produced a handful of his own, tossing them as far back as he could, running his way back to Spencer.

"Come on, Skinny Love, what happened here?!"

They began to waltz once more and within moments, Spencer broke away again. The men suddenly held each other close, wrapping their arms around each other to the beat of the song and Derek snuck a kiss to Spencer's hair during the third round of "my, my, my's". Soon, the waltzing began once more, arms held high and crisp.

"Right at the moment, this order's tall."

Derek pulled Spencer into his chest, twirled him and let Spencer go. The two did a small, purposeful fall out move and hurried back to each other into position, waltzing and waltzing and stopping abruptly to cease dancing. The spent the five-second pause staring into the crowd when they were asked, "If all your love was wasted, than, who the hell was I?"

Derek and Spencer joined once more and Spencer looked at him. They raised one hand slowly and it nearly touched as they let it go.

"Cuz, now I'm breaking at the britches and at the end of all your lies."

The song ran slow, and Derek pulled him in again, holding him close in a loose slow dance.

"Who will love you? Who will fight?"

His hand grabbed Spencer's and they held it at their chests, eyes locking in a desperate moment. Derek could feel Spencer losing himself in it. He felt whole when he was dancing and that wasn't going to go away just because he's pissed at Derek. Spencer's character fell to his knees and crumpled to the floor.

"And who will fall… far behind?"

Derek's character quickly took him by the hand and tried to pull him along, but Spencer's character had been lost and it was time to leave him behind for good. No matter how much it hurt. He walked away toward the back of the stage. Then, the music picked up, and Derek knew that Spencer had rose to stand. He turned, grinning at the sight of him. Spencer grinned back and when Birdy sang out, "Come on, Skinny Love!" he leapt onto Derek in a surprisingly neat "The Notebook" style spider-monkey hug. Derek caught him and whirled the two around when the "my, my, my's" came along. His father's memory would always be with him. Derek could let him go, because he always knew that there was something to come back to, something to remember. And that was the important thing. That's what got him through it. That's what made that year the best he'd ever had. It was filled with memories and happiness and love and his dad.

When the song slowed to an end, Spencer patted Derek's shoulder non-committaly. The producers, cameramen, and sound operators spoke among themselves at once, already deciding on light and camera cues.

Derek looked over to Spencer as he stood silently there. He knew he wasn't allowed to talk to him, so he didn't. Spencer shifted beside him as they awaited the producer's word, whispering under his breath, "You'd better be happy you have a beautiful waltz."

He gave Spencer a glance, raising his eyebrows.

"Then again, you were taught by me, so 'duh'," Spencer replied.

Derek smiled a bit, "Is that forgiveness?"

"You wish." Spencer growled back, "I'm furious at you."

Derek winked, "But, I waltz like Fred Astaire…"

Spencer's lips quivered with a smile as he fought it down, "Shut up, and stop making me laugh. Prick."

Derek said easily, "Such harsh words, Ginger..."

Spencer gave him a threatening glare, "You're Ginger! I'm Astaire!"

The head producer raised his hand, "With all due respect, Doc, he'd make a good Astaire."

Derek raised his eyebrows and let his expression of complete satisfaction prove strong enough comment.

"It's only because I'm doing the lady moves right now, okay, don't get comfortable," Spencer scoffed and folded his arms, mumbling something about Swing Time and ass kicking.

The run throughs went well. Spencer still wasn't speaking to him though, but Derek knew that he eventually would. That's the kind of relationship they had… well, if one would call this fuckup of a pairing a relationship. From what he knew of Spencer, the kid couldn't hold a grudge to save his life. But, out of nothing but respect, Derek allowed Spencer to believe that he was threatened by his grouses of anger. Yeah, the kid's a little miffed, but Derek doesn't give it long before he's taking back everything he said.

But, that's the thing about Spencer.

He does things for no goddamn reason, other than the fact that he thinks that it's what's right to do. Spencer's his own man. A strong, stubborn, and opinionated man. He complains and grumbles and hates sunshine. He rolls his eyes at modern technology, uses words longer than his full name, and will spend hours in a studio doing nothing but moving his body and pushing all of his feelings out for no one to see so that he can keep it buried deep down where no one can find it, because his trust issues are so damn bad. He's beautiful, he's sullen, he's hurt all the time. He carries his cross for miles and miles until he forgets just how heavy it is.

Yet, he let Derek in.

He told Derek everything.

He let Derek bear some of that weight.

And when he opened himself up, splayed his feelings as an act of submission to Derek, Spencer trusted him. He cried, he held himself, and he kissed Derek softly. He offered his body—albeit poorly—but the guy tried. And that means so much, especially after the giant shit mountain that was his life.

Telling Penelope and Emily that the two were involved with each other wasn't the best move, considering the stone, black fortress that was Spencer's people shield. But, the kid needed to grow up. In the adult world, people have crushes, they admit them, and they tell people. Two silly girls knowing that they kissed in a closet is not going to change the condition of Spencer's well-being, he promises. But, Spencer doesn't know that yet.

So, Derek pulled on a grey Henley and jeans and made his way over to Spencer's dressing room, duffel in hand, in full on "I'm sorry, baby" mode. He knocked and the door opened underneath his fist. The light was off. Derek peered inside. No one was in there. He called Spencer's name anyway. Twice. A third time. Whoa, dude musta booked it. He really didn't want to talk to him.

Well, fuck.

Derek pulled his phone out of his pocket and pressed "Call". Spencer wasn't answering his phone either. He bit his lips and leaned against the tight, bustling hallway wall, sending a text [spence im sorry. i honestly didnt kno that tellin pen and em about us would be a big deal. please call me. lets talk about it. I wanna make it better]. It took a little while to go through, seeing as service in the building left much to be desired. But, before long he saw the little "SENDING..." block turn into a green "SENT 7:56pm".

There was nothing in response. Double fuck.

He knew Spencer wasn't in the building. The kid left. Derek growled to himself for letting him go without talking to him about it first. He hates it when they fight. They're both too stubborn, and now Derek wants to lay down his strong façade to see Spencer's point of view.

This next move was stupid. He was working on a hunch, but he did it anyway. Derek walked right down to the ballroom, and exited through the lobby. He found his truck in the parking lot, stuck his keys in the ignition and drove. It wasn't a far distance, just a couple of blocks. Derek would have ran it if he was feeling ballsy and sentimental, but he just wasn't digging the James Marsden approach today. It was late. He was tired, and he and Spencer going to bed upset at each other just plain wasn't going to fly. When he car pulled up to the place he was looking for, he parked the closest he could get to the door without getting a ticket. The LAPD is flat out bloodthirsty, Derek swore to himself as he wrenched the door open and strode to the entrance of the building. He pulled at the door. It was locked. Come on, seriously?

Derek pulled back a few feet and looked up to the window to see a very dim light on behind the shut blinds. Well, would you look at that? That fucker broke in.

Good thing Derek has experience breaking and entering. When he was in Juvey, the kids called him the Chicago Cat Burglar, and he never refuted the claims. Derek doesn't like doing it now, but desperate times, you know?

Derek searched his pockets for something he could use. He begged to his pocket to produce a toothpick, a safety pin, something. If not, he could jimmy the antennae off of his car and use that, but that's just crossing the line of too ghetto for him. Ah! A hair pin. Awesome. Thank you, Penelope, for asking Derek to hold it and completely forgetting to pick it up! He placed the glittery pink metal into the lock and did his quiet magic, the door bending to his will with a satisfying little *click*. Magic Morgan's still got it.

Opening it, he made his way into the building. He ran up the stairs. One floor. Two floors. Three floors. He heard the music from the hallway. Drums, a light guitar, leather ballet shoes scraping against the hardwood. Derek turned the hallway light on and knocked.

Spencer glanced over at the door expectantly, gesturing for Derek to come in. He did. The dancer's feet continued to move, arms lax at his sides as he traipsed on, "I knew you'd find me here."

Derek closed the door, "How?"

Spencer sighed, feet pulling out slow movements, "I know you, Derek. You won't give up until I'm aware of how pathetically how sorry you are. You're just that kind of guy."

Derek asked, "Then, why didn't you leave the door unlocked?"

Spencer shrugged and turned loosely rising up on full pointe for a moment, looking back at him, "A part of me wanted to make it hard for you. I'm not a damsel, you know, but its kind of satisfying seeing you work for it."

Derek replied, "You made me break into private property to prove a point?"

Spencer executed a lazy port-du-bras, "I didn't make you do anything."

Derek walked two steps closer as Spencer's feet shasayed backwards and into a tight twirl, asking the dancer, "Well, either way, I'm here. What do you want me to do? Beg?"

"I want you to fucking hear me out!" Spencer hissed out, feet halting to a stop, "I don't want anyone to know that I'm attracted to you! I don't want anyone to know that we're in some sleezy sex deal! And for the love of God, I don't want a soul on Earth to ever hear a word of what I told you Friday night! You're my student, okay?! If our relationship got out, I'd be humiliated—ruined beyond redemption!"

Derek asked, "So… this is about your career?"

"If I was smart, it would be," Spencer sighed, his voice starting to raise as he lost control, "I don't think you understand what this thing we have is to me. What I share with you is for you, and you alone! Every time I kiss you and fall into your arms, it's personal. It's private, and it's so intimate—Derek, you don't even know. I'm myself when I'm with you! It's so fucking stupid, but I can't help but strip myself bare and let you see everything that I am because I trust you so much, Derek," Spencer was yelling now, "I've never trusted anyone the way that I trust you, and it scares me, man, it terrifies me how much I've let you in. And you told someone about us. I just…" Spencer's voice hitched and curdled into a whimper as he held back a sob, "I should have known. I should have known that it was too good to be true."

Derek sighed, "Spencer, I had no idea how much the secrecy meant to you. If I did, I promise, I wouldn't have breathed a word."

Spencer strode up to Derek and held the baller's hands in his, "Well, then this is me... telling you to not to. Don't tell anyone else about us. They don't need to know."

Derek looked into Spencer's eyes and rubbed his hand with his thumb, "Okay, you got it."

Spencer continued, "Seriously, Derek. I want to keep this between us. You and me. We don't have to figure everything out. We don't have to have all the answers. We can make things up as we go along. No rushing, no confusion. Just us. It's so much better that way."

Derek promised, "No one else will know, man, I give you my word."

"Good," Spencer whispered to him, "Because, I… I'm falling for you. So quickly. So hard. And I-I never say that. I never say that to anyone. You just…" Spencer leaned even closer and closed the space between them with a soft nudge against his forehead, "You make me feel so strange."

Derek chuckled against Spencer's neck, "You make me feel strange too, Pretty Boy."

Spencer rolled his eyes, "That fucking pet name."

Derek grinned, "You love it."

The song behind them changed to a soft piano and a man sung out in a language that escaped him. Spencer smiled shyly back at him, looking up into Derek's eyes, "Don't judge me, but I kind of do. Plus, all of your stupid comments are making me think my butt is a lot more attractive than it probably is."

"Your ass is king, don't forget it," Derek winked, holding Spencer's hands closer, "Are we made up?"

Spencer made a calculating face, "I don't know…" he took a few steps back, his black leather shoes scraping across the wood as he danced away from Derek in a few lazy, flirtatious turns, "You haven't… kissed me yet, so…"

Derek walked after him, holding his arms out as he caught up to Spencer and wrapped him up in his arms, "I can do that for you."

Spencer tapped Derek's nose and slipped out of his hold so quickly and effortlessly that Derek barely noticed him leave. Spencer replied from a foot in front of him, "I wouldn't be too sure about that."

Derek got very confused very quickly, "Wait, how did you…"

Spencer smiled broadly to the foreign song, "I'm a bailarin. We're part-wizard, you know."

Derek followed Spencer as he let out an arabesque and effortlessly lifted his front leg up, keeping it straight as he held it parallel to his shoulder, "Wow, that's impressive... and kinda sexy."

"Of course it is," Spencer replied, looking over his shoulder, "Think you can keep up, Football?"

The kid put up a good fight. Obviously, Spencer danced circles around him, leaving Derek reaching out, hopeful, and frustrated. Spencer would pull him close and then slip out of his arms again and again. So close, yet so far until Derek reached out and took his waist turning the way Spencer did. The dancer's eyebrow quirked in interest and he leaned back on one foot, straightening his back leg. Easy throw off. Spencer was going to jump. He always falls back before he jumps, the calculative bastard.

Spencer released a breath, fell back slightly and jumped upward, not expecting Derek to catch him steadily by his waist. Derek then spun them in a slow circle and lowered Spencer lightly, the dancer's feet brushing the floor before setting him down. Spencer breathed, "…lucky guess."

Derek pulled his arms up around him and started off on a specifically counted waltz, keeping his form as straight and refined as he could. Spencer grew quiet and blushed, following his lead and the music drifting away behind him. The two twirled and stepped alongside each other in a very basic form of the ballroom dance. They repeated the same moves over and over again, staring into each other's eyes until the song started to slow. Derek pulled Spencer even closer and they swayed gently, unable to finish the dance before Spencer pushed his lips against Derek's and initiated a slow, passionate kiss. Derek wrapped his arms around Spencer's frame and the dancer breathed, pulling away, "I was going to play hard to get, but… Derek, your waltz is just... wow."

"I've heard that said once or twice," Derek shrugged.

Spencer looked up into his eyes, "It's your spirit dance. I'm sure of it."

Derek paused, "My… my spirit what now?"

"Your spirit dance. It's a personal theory of mine," Spencer replied, "Anyone can dance. They just have to find it, you know? That... one dance that you can't help but excel at, because it's in your soul. A dance that expresses you more than anything, more than words ever could. Russian ballet is mine."

Derek paused, "Huh."

"Do you feel it in your feet when you do it?" Spencer asked.

Derek wrinkled his eyebrows, "Not really."

Spencer grinned, "That's because your waltz—it's natural. It's personal. When you waltz with me, I just feel so close to you and… I don't know. I like it. The way you just... God, I'm making an idiot of myself. Stop me whenever you see fit."

Derek smiled softly, "Why would I? It's cute when you blubber on about dance."

"Well, I can't help it. I love it. I love dancing and I love our partnership I love everything about it, man, I love y—" Spencer stopped himself abruptly, "Hah… whoa. Rewind."

Derek's eyes widened, "You love me?"

Spencer shook his head roughly, "I love y-y…oga. Aligning chakras, man. It's... so good for conditioning the body. The best actually."

Derek raised his chin and gloated, "You totally just said you loved me."

Spencer hissed, "It slipped out! It didn't mean anything, I swear. I call do-over so that I can save it for some time in the future."

Derek chuckled, "You're calling do-over on 'I love you'?"

Spencer folded his arms, "Technically, I never finished the statement and even if I did, it's null and void because I don't actually mean it."

Derek reached up and ruffled Spencer's hair, "Yeah, whatever, Spencer."

Spencer pulled Derek's hand from his hair, running his fingers through it, "Don't you 'whatever, Spencer' me."

"Fine. Since it doesn't mean anything…" Derek replied, pressing a kiss to Spencer's cheek, "I love yoga too."

Spencer smiled back bashfully, "…really?"

"For everything it's not," Derek answered, pressing closer, "I really do love yoga."

Spencer kissed Derek's lips and sighed, "You're not real."

Derek laughed, "Am too!"

"Bullshit," Spencer took several steps back, "I'm asleep and dreaming and I'm going to wake up in my bed."

Derek followed Spencer and took his waist, burying his face into the dancer's hair and pressed several kisses along his jaw, "If you were dreaming, could I do this?"

Spencer breathed out contentedly, "Good point. Hey... Derek?"

Derek glanced up at Spencer, "Yep?"

Spencer took Derek by the face and guided him into a kiss. A woman singing in Russian was playing in the background, the lights were dim, and the studio looked nearly haunted with the drawn curtains separating them from the city below. In this moment, they were the only people in the world. Their fingers tangled at their sides as they kissed softly, hesitantly. The hesitancy morphed into passion; arms wrapped around each other, fingers in hair, chests pressed together. The passion morphed into intensity. Spencer walked Derek carefully to the nearest wall and used his looming height to stand over him as they kissed, tilting the football player's head up in his hands. Their tongues brushed together and made quick friends as Spencer tilted Derek's head up higher than it should be. Kid's only got two inches on him. Derek chuckled against Spencer's lips, "Boy, I swear I haven't met anyone with less game than you. Stop standing on your toes."

Spencer replied, "What are you talking about?"

Derek reached his leg around to kick his heel behind of Spencer's knee and sure enough, the dancer's feet touched the ground, "This. You're trying to be taller than me, and it ain't right. You're already a beanstalk, help me out here, man."

Spencer's eyes widened and he bit his lip, "…are you saying my height makes me sexually unappealing?"

"No! Of course not! That's the last thing I…" Derek started apologizing until he noticed Spencer's lips turn up in a sly smile, "You're fucking with me, aren't you?"

Spencer nodded, a beaming grin across his lips as he chuckled out, "You should have seen your face!"

Derek grimaced, "Oh, ha ha. I'm sure it was hilarious."

Spencer ran his hands up Derek's chest, "You know what would be funnier?"

Derek rolled his eyes, "What?"

Spencer leaned in and whispered in his ear, "If you kissed me again."

Derek tried to hold back his closed lipped smile as he kissed Spencer softly.

Spencer added, "Do it again."

Derek chuckled and pressed a harder kiss to Spencer's lips, relishing the feeling for just a little while longer.

Spencer fingers found the back of his neck and he looked into Derek's eyes, "And again and again and never stop."

"I'll never want to," Derek wrapped his hand around Spencer's tie and pulled him in even closer as they kissed once more. Spencer's fingers traced the outline of Derek's jaw as they kissed, flowing down his neck and over his shoulders and back again. Their kiss picked up pace and Derek's breath hitched as Spencer moved impossibly close. Sometimes, Spencer could be such a dude, and it does Derek in more often than not. Yeah, he's slender and pale and fragile-looking, but when it came to his sexuality, Spencer liked to take charge. Spencer got rough, he shoved a little, and liked to manhandle. His pants and whimpers are countered with short growls of lust that made the hair on Derek's neck stand up… amongst other things. And in moments like this when the only thought on their mind was "kiss, touch, harder, yes", a little roughness was literally just what the doctor ordered. Get it? Because Spencer's a doctor? Derek held in a chuckle. Whatever, that was hilarious.

Spencer barely hesitated before he pulled Derek down to the floor and Derek was perfectly okay with that. Are you kidding? Thank you, Santa. They held onto each other tighter as they went from standing to kneeling to lying down, lips never falling from the other's. The song changed once more and on it was a woman singing—in what sounds like French.

They wrapped their arms tighter around each other and rolled around spastically. They couldn't choose who would be on top, but not for nothing, they didn't seem to care. Spencer happened to be on top during this song, and Derek sat up with the dancer in his lap as they kissed for all they were worth. Who needed breath? Who needed oxygen? Derek buried his hands in Spencer's hair and tugged the way he liked it. Spencer rewarded him with a needy groan, pulling Derek to the floor once more. He pinned Derek's arms to up over his head while their tongues battled a vicious war. Derek struggled playfully against the sloppily held fingers, just strong enough to feel threatening, but not too tight a grip to slip. Fucking perfect.

Spencer ground his hips into Derek's and when he least expected it, Derek rolled them over, pulling Spencer into a lust blown neck inspection. Derek's lips started on a rampage at the juncture of his jaw, peppering all the way down to his collarbones. As he took sharp, sucking interest in the bony skin, Spencer let out soft moans of encouragement before breathing out, "I bruise easily, so… not anywhere it would show."

Derek licked against Spencer's clavicle, "I know. I'm not an idiot. We're going on live TV tomorrow."

"Mmm, I want it though. I want it so bad," Spencer whispered into Derek's ear, "Your marks all over me."

Derek shuddered out a breath, "You're killing me here, kid."

"Likewise," Spencer nuzzled against Derek's skin before flipping them over and running his hand down Derek's chest before leaning down to claim him in a kiss. They wrapped into each other again. Derek tugged on Spencer's tie hesitantly. Spencer nodded into the kiss and Derek made quick work of it, waiting for Derek's answering nod before pitching it across the room. They sat up, lips attached as Spencer pulled at Derek's shirt, "You look so hot in a fucking Henley." After he rid Derek of the shirt, he ran his ever-exploring hands over the newly bared skin of his well-toned chest, "I take that back… I take that all back."

Derek chuckled, "Kid, are you alright?"

"Hey, Chest," Spencer ran his hand down to Derek's abs, "I've been waiting to see you for so long, and I must say, you don't disappoint. You actually exceed expectations."

Derek tugged Spencer's ear, "Spencer."

Spencer sighed, eyes locked on his new friends, "Ssh, we'll talk later. Your face wants my attention."

Derek started to laugh, "You are so weird."

"All I heard was 'look at my biceps I'm so hot, kiss me, Spencer'." Spencer got closer and pressed Derek back to the floor, their crotches slotting together as he obeyed. Another song came on. English, thank God. It was slow and piano based. Beautiful. Perfect. They kissed once more, long and lasting and loving. Derek kind of likes that Spencer's on top right now. Kid holds his own, he really does. He's passionate and intense and Derek's never been kissed by anyone like this. When Derek had said it to Spencer before, he meant it. The way Spencer kisses him... it's different. It's wild, it's sweet, it's deeper than deep. He kisses with everything he is. Especially when he's really into it—and boy, are they into it now. Rubbing up on each other, feeling on skin, lips and tongues melding together. All he can taste is Spencer's breath, all he can smell is Spencer's vanilla shampoo, all he can feel are those hands on him touching so desperately.

Derek has half a mind to think that Spencer wants to do it right now. Like, you know. Do it, do it. But, that's crazy. They're just making out and Derek's shirt is off. This happens to Derek all the time. It usually ends in sex, but, there's no pressure for Spencer. They don't have to do anything if he doesn't want to—whoa! That's not a cell phone in Spencer's pocket, is it? Nope. Certainly ain't shaped like one. That's exactly what Derek thinks it is. Spencer was hard. Really hard. "Fuck," Derek matched him, his own stiffness weighing heavy in his jeans, and he moaned as Spencer ground their clothed arousals together.

That felt good. Really good. It's been a long time since he'd last done this with a man. That Friday night with Spencer not counting much because of how quickly it ended. Derek's hands grabbed at Spencer's thin hips, setting a rhythm. He heard a loud rush of breath by his ear as Spencer's hand flew up and grasped against the wood of the polished floor, nails scratching at it for a moment when their hips shifted just right. Shit. Derek groaned and bit down on the juncture of Spencer's neck. As he did so, Spencer panted out a loud, "Yes!"

Derek chuckled darly, "Don't get too excited, Pretty Boy. We both know you work fast."

"Shut up! That was one time, and I didn't jack off that morning," Spencer answered heartlessly in between kisses.

Derek asked, "Ovulating?"

Spencer pushed Derek's back harder into the floor than it already was, "You guessed it."

Derek and Spencer panted into each other's faces and stopped kissing for a moment in favor of breathing, just for a moment. He ran his hands up the dancer's chest loosening one button. Two. Three. He asked, "Is… is this okay? You know, if I… just a little."

"Yeah," Spencer replied hesitantly, something wary in his eyes.

Derek asked, "Are you sure?"

"Positive," Spencer answered.

Derek asked one more time, "One hundred, million, thousand, kajillion, billion percent positive."

Spencer narrowed his eyes, "Don't make me fucking hurt you, Derek."

"Whatever. Excuse me for being polite," Derek eased away more buttons before asking, stopping short as a beat suddenly erupted from the stereo, "Is…is that Day26 playing right now?"

Spencer shrugged, "My iPod's on shuffle. You can't judge me. It's practically one of Newton's Laws."

Derek paused, "Can't help it, dude. The music was all cute and sweet and this just stabbed that in the heart with testosterone."

"Good timing though, right?" Spencer blinked down at him and let his shirt slip just a little bit down his shoulder, biting his lip flirtatiously.

Derek sighed and chuckled out, "Babymaker, man. Of all the Day26 songs to come on. Babymaker."

Spencer bit onto his long sleeve that hung over his fingers, grinding down a few sharp times on Derek's hips before giving him an innocent look with his big, brown eyes, "You sure you want me to get up right now? Walk all the way over there. Just to change the song. I might not be in the mood to continue by the time I get back."

Derek gave him a flat look, "Please, you've wanted to jump my bones for weeks now, a five second walk to your iPod won't change that."

Spencer wiggled his shoulders spoke along with the lyrics, "'Here we are, off up in this room. The chemistry, between me and you. Now's the time, I'll show you my new moves,'" he leaned in closer and breathed against Derek's earlobe, "'Whatever you want I'm gonna do…'"

"Goddamn, okay. You win," Derek pulled him in for another one of those fuckhot rough kisses. Spencer's hands felt all up and down his back, leaving light little scratches. Derek pulled more buttons free on Spencer's shirt and started to let it fall loose before Spencer flinched, "Mmm, no more than that." Derek let it be, not touching the shirt as he rolled over and kissed him harder, pressing the dancer into the floor.

Spencer's hands grew a little shaky and he let his hands fall to Derek's belt. He undid the latch after a few moments of nervous fumbling and Derek groaned into his ear, "It's okay." Spencer breathed slowly and pulled the belt free of the loops and shook it free, setting it down beside them. Spencer then unbuttoned Derek's jeans, suddenly leaving his hands floating in the air for no reason before settling them on the floor and melting back into the kiss. Spencer pulled away and looked into Derek's eyes with a wild grin, "Oh, my God. Are we seriously doing this right now?"

"I guess we are," Derek smiled against his lips and used that moment of awkwardness to run his hands down Spencer's bare chest. The dancer let out a soft, shuddering breath and Derek leaned his head down to push his open shirt to his shoulders so that he could press little kisses all over Spencer's chest. Spencer flinched again as the cloth met the edge of his bicep. Derek kissed that erogenous zone Ethan warned him about on the base of Spencer's ribs and the dancer's wandering fingers traveled to the back of his head as Derek's kisses became more deep, searching down into his hipbones. Spencer breathed out quickly, "More tongue." Derek's lip quirked in a smile and he let his tongue lick the pleasure spot on Spencer's skin before he kissed it, licking again after he did it. Spencer moaned softly, "Mmm… that's perfect."

Derek made his way around Spencer's torso, leaving the kisses just any old place. Spencer was surprised at each spot they landed, letting out a shocked groan as Derek pressed his thumbs against Spencer's nipples, rubbing them to a peak slowly as he licked and kissed all over his body. Derek started to suck softly on Spencer's skin after every kiss, pulling bruises out where they won't be seen and, boy did Spencer like that. He breathed out quiet words of encouragement as he was surprised into each kiss, suck, and nibble. Before long, Spencer's dance slacks were straining at the crotch, and Derek pulled himself up and seated himself in Spencer's lap to grind against him the way Spencer had previously done. Just a lot harder. Spencer grabbed onto Derek's back and rubbed back against him and Derek doubled up the force on him. If he's guessing well, it's just the right amount of friction for Spencer to say—

The dancer let out a harsh squeak and whispered out, "Ahh, yeah!"

Derek smiled and Spencer sat up quickly to wrap his arms around Derek's neck, kissing him deeply and pressing those hips in closer as some Vampire Weekend song came on. Spencer pressed his hands to Derek's shoulders and they rubbed so good. It was just a touch away from being perfection. Spencer then hitched his right leg around Derek's waist and—holy… yeah, wow. They panted out their enthusiasm and Derek pressed a kiss to Spencer's shoulder, pulling the final button of his shirt free and taking the time to ease the shirt down Spencer's arms before the dancer made a harsh sound and yelped, "Don't… don't, Derek! Don't take it off!"

Derek raised his hands in surrender, "Sorry! Sorry."

Spencer hitched his shirt up around his shoulders, "No, I... I'm sorry I yelled."

Derek replied, "No big… may I ask why, or is it a touchy subject?"

"It's… I just…" Spencer paused and looked up into Derek's eyes, "I don't like my arms."

Derek furrowed his eyebrows, "Why? They seem like they'd be really cute, you know, in a manly way."

Spencer sighed out, "It's not the shape that I don't like, it's…"

Derek pushed Spencer's face out of his eyes gently, "What's wrong with them, kid?"

"I..." Spencer glanced up at Derek, shame clear on his blushing face as he muttered quietly, "… I have... track marks. On the inside of them from when I used to… well, you know… use. I just… I don't want you looking at them."

Derek blinked, "Oh, is that it?"

Spencer nodded uncomfortably, "Yeah."

Derek asked, "Are you still using?"

Spencer shook his head, "No."

Derek answered, "… I'm trying to find the problem here."

Spencer mumbled out, "They're ugly and... if you see them, you might think I'm... that I'm..."

"What?" Derek smiled and pressed his hands to Spencer's face, "You don't understand, do you? I like you. You. All of you. Your weirdness, your geekiness, and your fuckups included. Those little dots and scrapes? They're just a sign that you bumped your head on the way to get where you are now, but they're nothing to be ashamed of. They made you who you are. And I like who you are. So, your scars? No problem. Would I like to see more of them on you? Not really. Will I love the ones you have now and accept them as a part of you? Hell fucking yes."

Spencer smiled weakly, "S… seriously? You mean that?"

Derek nodded, "Yeah, man. But, if you're still uncomfortable with me seeing them, you can keep your shirt on, no problem. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"…no, I-I trust you… this is just kind of hard," Spencer lifted his hands to his shoulders.

Derek kissed Spencer's neck as the song changed to something slow. A woman sang out in soft German as Derek spoke, "Take your time, but keep in mind, you're only doing this if you're completely and totally comfortable with it, okay? I don't ever want you to feel insecure around me."

"I could never. You make me feel so safe, I… I'm going to do it. Just try not to look at them too much, okay?" Spencer slowly, hesitantly pulled the white shirt from his shoulders, yanking his scarred arms out of the holes. The shirt fell to the floor behind him and his breath stuttered. He wrapped his arms around himself and took in a shaky breath, "Ah, God. It's off."

Derek winked, "Wow, look at you, handsome. I always wondered why I never got a ticket to the gunshow."

"Please." Spencer laughed with a stutter and reached up to wipe a tear from under his eye, "There was no gunshow. Just… old scarred up me. I bet you really think Pretty Boy earns his title now."

"Are you kidding me?" Derek kissed Spencer's eyelids as he started to tear up, "You look absolutely stunning."

Spencer's breath hitched, "How can you keep saying that? I've messed myself up so much. I've ruined my own skin. I don't get to be beautiful. I don't deserve it."

Derek pulled him in and held him against his chest, "Baby, yes you do, and you are. You're more beautiful than you know. And until you get it, I'll tell you every single day until you understand. Okay? Pinky promise?"

Spencer let out a watery laugh, wiping at his eyes and lifting the finger to twine with Derek's as he sniffed, "Oh, God. I can't believe I'm crying right now of all the times to cry."

Derek raised a thumb and wiped a tear from Spencer's calming eyes, joking softly, "Yeah, just my luck, right? I was so ready to tap that, man, you don't know the half of it."

Spencer pushed at him, grinning, "You're such a dick. Anyone ever tell you that?"

Derek laughed, "You, mostly."

"Well, lucky for you…" Spencer climbed on top of him, claiming his lap with a tight straddle, "I'm still pretty turned on."

Derek replied, "Unlike you, my blood goes to my brain when I need it, so Little Derek's not as perky as he once was."

Spencer got up into Derek's space, "Oh, don't worry. I can get him there…"

Derek laughed, "Ooh, pinky promise?"

"Shut up," Spencer pulled him close and kissed him again and again, more handsy how than ever. It took a minute or two, but before long, the two were wrapped in it again. It didn't take much when it came to Derek and Spencer. Just tip over a domino with a press of lips and they're touching on each other as the design crumbled down. Falling into lust, Spencer even got ballsy enough to unzip Derek's jeans without shaking. Too badly, anyway. Derek returned the favor once their kissing heated up and it wasn't long until they were rubbing against each other again. Spencer stilled and groaned, moving his head aside to start kissing at Derek's throat, his finger trailing up to catch on the side of Derek's face.

Derek smiled mischievously and took Spencer's middle finger into his mouth. The dancer's head snapped up in surprise. He clearly wasn't expecting that. Spencer watched his finger in Derek's mouth as Derek sucked it in further. Spencer bit his lip, and flushed red. Derek pulled off of his finger, "I can tie a cherry stem with my tongue, want to see one day?"

Spencer placed his wet fingered hand on Derek's chest, "That would kill me, please don't ever do that."

Derek winked, eyes trailing south, "What if I put something else in my mouth?"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Spencer went still and exhaled, face even more red than it was before with his eyes on Derek until he let out a relaxed breath, "Whew. I almost…" he cleared his throat and pleaded, "Just lay there and be sexy for a minute. No talking."

"Now, that I can do," Derek replied, leaning back and letting himself be loved all over by Spencer's hot little mouth. It never stopped when he was talking, and it damn sure never stopped now. So sweet, so gentle, so chaste. Spencer's soft lips were all over the place, making Derek so hard, he could barely stand it. On his neck, under his ear, over his pecs, down his stomach, along his hipbones; Spencer kissed all over leaning on his left arm for support.

Out of curiosity, Derek glanced at the dancer's inner arm, eyes met immediately with scratched up skin. Holy shitballs. That's a lot of fucking scars. They peppered the juncture of his elbow mostly, but they stretched higher and higher, reaching just below his bicep on each side. His needle must have slipped a lot. A couple of them were very deep and forceful. Some looked deep enough to have gotten infected at some point, the rest had broken out. He could tell the ones that healed over nicely and the ones that would take lots and lots of time to fade into the pale stuttered lines and dots that the cleaner ones were. Derek kissed the inside of Spencer's elbow, which had suffered the most of the cluttered red scratches. Then, he goofily kissed up Spencer's arm.

The dancer laughed, "Wow, okay, Gomez Addams."

Derek kissed right at the soft spot at the center of his arm made hard by rough raised skin and looked up at Spencer, hoping his eyes communicated something he couldn't.

Spencer's laughter stopped. His hands clenched around the edge of Derek's jeans, "I'm taking these off. Is that..."

Derek winked, breathing heavily, "Go for it, baby boy."

Spencer bit his lip mischievously and the stereo bled out a soft guitar, accompanied by a man singing in French.

Boy, did Spencer take Derek's words and run with them. They both did, actually. They well and truly did "go for it". Once Derek got him out of his clothes, the two of them wrapped up into each other, the hardwood floor cold beneath them as their hands wandered south. Their mouths pressed and collided over and over again until they were too gone—too lost in the feeling of euphoria and passion. The men breathed into each other's faces. Backs arched, swears were uttered, nails ran down skin. They sweat, they touched, they panted each other's names until they were damn near unrecognizable. Spencer lost it first. Sharply, loudly, hard he let go. Derek followed shortly after, making a mess of Spencer's pretty face as the dancer half-begged him to. And, well... that was pretty fucking hot.

He glanced down at Spencer, whose face was splattered and flushed. Spencer looked back at him ravenously, chest heaving, with brown eyes large with arousal as he ran his tongue across his puffy, bruised lower lip. His hair was a wreck, his skin was flushed a soft pink that dipped into his chest, and his lips, Jesus. He looked so fucked out. Not to mention, you know, the spunk lying across Spencer's face like it belonged there. That added to it. Spencer panted, crawling back up Derek's chest. Derek watched ravenously, trying to sear this image of the freshly climaxed dancer with his cheeks streaked in come into his own memory. Spencer reached Derek's face, wearing nothing but a mischievous grin, "I guess it's true what they say about football players."

Derek's lips collided with Spencer's in a chaste kiss before the dancer laid his chin on his tattooed chest, "What do they say?"

"Good aim," Spencer winked, reaching to the left of them and wiping off his face with his wrinkled oxford.

Derek's head fell to the floor and he laughed out, joining Spencer in his tirade of post-coital bliss, "Ho-holy shit."

"Holy shit is right," Spencer chuckled back in glee on top of him, folding his arms on Derek's chest and resting his chin on them to look into Derek's eyes, "We scored our fantasy location the first time we got naked. If that doesn't get us a gold star, I don't know what will."

Derek asked, "…huh?"

"We messed around in the studio." Spencer grinned, "You said yourself, you've been wanting to try that."

Derek ran his hand down his face, "Ah, shit! Almost all of the sex dreams I've ever had about you were in this place and I was paying zero attention to the scenery. Fuck."

Spencer smiled, beautiful through his glowing flush, "You've had sex dreams about me?"

Derek looked away bashfully, "I'm a man and you're attractive. It's not my fault."

Spencer whispered, "Don't feel bad. I had one about you last night. The crazy thing is... even though we didn't technically have sex just now, it trumped every single one of my dreams. Tenfold."

"Mine too," Derek looked up at Spencer, running a finger along the side of his face, "This was just so intense. It barely feels like it even happened."

"Well, it did happen…" Spencer's smile turned sly, "We took each other's clothes off, dude."

Derek laughed out, "Finally."

Spencer replied, eyes twinkling with memory, "No mattress, no nothing. Just had our way with each other on hardwood."

Derek added, "That makes us seem kind of desperate now that I'm thinking about it."

"It does. But it's true. We're impatient bastards," Spencer snickered, bumping Derek's chest with his chin, "And guess what else?"

Derek chuckled, "What, baby boy?"

Spencer lifted his leg straight up behind him with a bent knee and Derek's eyes traveled down Spencer's bare body. Miles of soft, milky skin led his glance to Spencer's famous scuffed black ballet shoes.

Derek burst into laughter, "You were wearing those the whole time?!"

Spencer sighed, "I didn't notice I had them on until they scuffed against the floor after I… you know."

"Oh, my…" Derek shook his head and smacked his hands on the floor in mock frustration, "Jeez, man!"

Spencer grinned, kissing Derek's chest softly, "I haven't pointed my arch that deep in these shoes since I was twenty-three."

Derek smiled back, "Well, fuck, good for you. Meanwhile, I got you off in ballet flats like a perv with a prima fetish."

Spencer blushed and laid his head between Derek's shoulder and neck as he punched playfully at Derek's chest, "Got me off, are you kidding? Understatement. It was just…" Spencer moaned out as words escaped him as he whispered against Derek's skin, "I came so hard that I almost cried, man, I fucking... 'cry-maxed'. I will do whatever you want for eternity if you make me feel like that again."

Derek worried, "What? Like… now?"

Spencer panted, "Dear, God, no. You're not the only one past his prime here. Just… you know, sometime soon. In a real bed. With a mattress and actual lube and my iPod not on shuffle."

"Sounds like a plan, my man," Derek grinned and lifted Spencer's head, kissing his lips and leaning back to admire him. Spencer stared back, leaning down to cocking his head to the side as he rested on Derek's chest and looked up at him with those eyes all lust-blown and those cheeks all red, "You're one of those people that gets that whole afterglow thing, huh? I thought that was make-believe."

Spencer smiled, the dim room brightening when he did. He pushed his hair up and out of his face, "Well, what do you expect? You and I just broke into the studio, waltzed, cried, and jacked each other off like teenagers, so yeah, damn right I am sweaty and blotchy and grinning like an idiot."

Derek pressed their foreheads together, "When you put it like that, we sound kinda gay."

"Totally gay. And we got laid, high five," Spencer held up his hand.

Derek winced, "Not that hand."

Spencer laughed and raised the hand not covered in jizz and they slapped them together.

Derek spoke up as he suddenly realized something, "Wait, Spencer. The cameras were off in here though, right?"

Spencer's face fell and his eyes widened.

A/N: Business:

1) Fanfic police people... I tried. I cut as much as I could, but what they did that night comes into play later on in the story, so I had to give a brief synopsis of what went down. Technically, all I said was "their hands wandered south" and Derek came on his face. Cut me some slack, okay. I tried. Really, I did.

2) Saying that, I still did chop a decent amount of the love scene out. The entire unedited smutty bit is going to be on archiveofourown MONDAY AFTERNOON. If you don't know how to get to it, just type the name of this fic and the words "criminal minds" and "archiveofourown" into google. Should come up pretty easy.

3) Spencer's Shuffled iPod is on the AO3 version, right at the bottom of the fic for those who want to experience the awkwardness of trying to hook up with someone while listening to a weird-ass mix of French pop, Vampire Weekend, sexy hip-hop, and Russian tunes. You don't have to sign up for Spotify or anything. It's just there and you can click "play" right on the page. I know. Super rad, right?

4) I wanted to say thanks for all of the love and reviews and PM's I've been getting. You guys are so cute. I want to give hugs to you all, but sorrowfully technology isn't there yet. So, I'll settle for sexually harassing you over the internet. Just know that somewhere, somehow, there's a buttgrab with your name on it. Oh, yeah, baby. ;)

Love,

Blue