A/N: I totally didn't research Hollywood addresses, so I made a reference to my hometown. If you know where Broad and Olney is, that's wassup. We cool, bol, I fucks witchu.

Love,

Blue

Raising the Barre

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: I'm Drunk, I Can Say Whatever I Want

They were rewarded with a score of 27 out of 30. Three nines in a row, not bad. Derek sat with Penelope and Emily, chatting about mindless dribble, and Spencer sat with Karina and Tristan. At times during the night, their eyes met over and over again. Spencer blew him a kiss at some time and Derek blew one back with lots of tongue involved. The dancer laughed and made a heart with his hands. Derek made one back with a grin as Penelope nudged him to quit it just in case their cheesiness was contagious.

The night came to a close and Derek and Spencer found themselves in the top three for the third time in the competition. Derek changed out of his costume quickly, and as he was in the middle of pulling his sweater over his arms, there was a knock on his door. He raced to it and opened it, "Hey, girls. What's good?"

Penelope and Emily grinned, adorned in party wear. The two had their curvy forms hugged by what Derek would call "freakum dresses". Derek hasn't seen one of them things in months and wow. They still looked just as hot. He kind of misses his club hopping days. Derek can almost see it now; flashing lights, alcohol flowing, booming music speakers, tiny black dresses abound. Penelope grabbed at Derek's arm, "We're kidnapping you, dude! We all scored nines this week, and it's time to head out and turn up! Woo!"

Emily pulled a small bottle of Siroc out of her purse, "It's about to get so crazy. You don't even know. It's party time, dude."

"Now, get your wallet and come on! Let's get drunk and grind on some honeys!" Penelope yelled excitedly, taking the bottle and raising it high, "Last one to dance on the bar is the designated driver!"

Emily raised the bottle and shouted gleefully, "And the last one wasted is a rotten egg!"

Penelope added loudly, "We hittin' the club!"

"Sippin' that bub!" Emily continued.

Penelope finished, "Heading to the floor with a handful of dubs!"

Derek made a face, "Oh, girls. You have no idea how much fun that sounds, but… I've gotta bail tonight."

Emily pouted, "But why?"

Derek replied, "I've got a thing."

Emily replied, "Eww."

Derek added, "With my boo."

Emily cooed, "Aww."

Penelope gave him a flat look, "What's the thing? Is it fun? Can we come with? Is it okay if we pregame? Because I'm already kind of tipsy..."

"Derek is off limits tonight," Spencer's voice called out, "He's having beer, playing video games, and watching shitty TV with me," Spencer pushed his way to Derek's door wearing a black oxford shirt and pants with a burgundy cardigan and fedora.

Emily asked, "That sounds totally awesome. Why can't we join?"

Spencer added, making his way into the room, "Because I want him to help me break my headboard at some point of the night, and I can't do that with you there."

Penelope grinned, "Uh, yeah, you can."

Spencer whined, "You'll harsh my vibe."

Penelope waved him off, "No, we won't. We'll just watch really quietly."

Spencer rolled his eyes, "But, since I'm neither interested in exhibitionism nor orgies, one could see how my previous statement would come full circle. Onlookers plus 'my sexiness' equals flatline. Vibe. Harshed. This isn't Quantum Physics, ladies."

Derek laughed, "One would think you only like me for my body."

Spencer wrapped his arms around Derek from the side and pressed his face into Derek's neck, "Oh, no. That's not true. Your sharp wit and clever banter leads to a multitude of comforting and agreeable forms of company."

"You're so adorable with your big words, you little cutie," Derek grinned toothily, draping an arm around Spencer's shoulders while winking, "You'd better use some of those tonight."

Emily wiggled her eyebrows, "Yeah, we're definitely tagging along. Don't worry. We'll be good. You won't even know we're there."

Spencer quieted and asked, "Emily, right?"

Emily nodded, "Yep."

Spencer smiled, "I like you."

Penelope asked, "So, we're invited?"

Derek shook his head, "Not a chance."

Spencer lay on his chest, kissing him softly over and over again, a light sheen of sweat over his skin as the two lay tangled on the couch. The Dallas Cheerleaders were chatting about in the background and on the coffee table, there was an opened box of pizza filled with crusts, several empty beer cans, and a hastily opened bottle of red wine. Derek pulled Spencer closer and the dancer smiled against his lips, breathing out a gentle moan.

Derek pushed his head back for a moment, to glance at the television, "Really, though… Jessica's going to interrupt them again? What a bitch."

Spencer smiled up at him dreamily, "Huh? Who?"

Derek asked, "Haven't you been paying attention? Jessica. She's trying to create tension in the group over something small, I just know it."

Spencer giggled out, "Which one is she again?"

Derek pointed at the screen as the brunette flipped her hair over his shoulder in agitation, "That one. With the blue top."

Spencer quieted, "Whoa... she's really pretty."

Derek laughed out loud, "But, she's kind of disrespectful."

Spencer gazed into the screen, "She can disrespect me any day. Meow."

Derek chuckled, "What?"

"What?" Spencer asked, looking over at Derek with hooded eyes, clouded with drink.

Derek pushed an unruly curl from Spencer's eyes, "Nothing, you're just really corny."

"You're right. I am horny," Spencer rested his head on Derek's chest, pressing his cheek into the man's body as he slurred out, "Could you like do me in the rain? Like in that… that Rachel McAdams movie. Cornfields and shit."

Derek laughed out, "Okay, someone's had one too many beers."

Spencer scoffed, "I only had like… three and a half. Four, tops. And like a sip of Merlot."

"Dude, you're the lightest lightweight to ever lightweight. You were drunk forty minutes ago," Derek announced, "If I were your friend, I would have cut you off, but the curiosity got to me."

"I'm not a that bad, man, I'm just beer queer," Spencer slurred out, "I have a fast metabolism, give me an hour and it'll be like I never had anything. I've gone my whole life without a hangover. Don't even know what it feels like."

Derek replied, "Seriously? Lucky bastard."

"Speaking of getting lucky, weren't we kissing?" Spencer breathed, "Can we keep doing that? Like… more and more until coitus."

Derek gave Spencer a flat look, "Spencer."

Spencer sat up and undid a few buttons on his shirt, pushing the edge of it down his shoulder, "Whoops... looks like my shirt's coming off. Uh oh..."

Derek sighed, "I can't."

Spencer continued slowly down his shirt, gasping lightly, "Is that another button? Mmm, my oxford is such a naughty thing, Derek. You should get rid of it for me."

Derek shook his head, "Dude. You are officially too drunk. I'd go straight to Hell for even thinking about touching you under your clothes while you're in this state. Nevermind letting you seduce me."

Spencer whimpered into Derek's chest, "But, look at my pout. It's cute, right? I've been working on it."

Derek replied, "God… that's fucking adorable."

Spencer looked up at Derek with his large eyes, "Good. It took a lot of time."

"It's cute, but..." Derek sighed out in disappointment, "I can't, Spencer."

Spencer muttered, "No. I invited you here so we could have the fuck… the fucking," Spencer started to get frustrated with his own drunkenness, "So we could do sex."

Derek asked, "Is that so?"

Spencer leaned in close to Derek and whispered into his ear as if there were someone around to hear him, "Damn straight."

Derek smiled, "You want to get in my pants that bad?"

Spencer nodded lazily against Derek's chest, "Yeah…"

"Okay," Derek joked.

Spencer popped his head up, "Really?"

"Of course not, Genius," Derek pulled his instructor into his arms, "Let's get you to bed."

"Whoa... the floor is like jelly," Spencer got shakily to his feet, giggling and holding onto Derek's bulging arm, "I should be drunk more often. Gives me an excuse to do this," said Spencer before he slipped his hand under Derek's shirt and ran his hand along the muscles on his lower abdomen, "Oh, my God! You could wash clothes on these!"

Derek pulled at his hand, "Come on, Spencer. Not now."

"Yes now, sexy Derek!" Spencer hung off of his shoulder, "Are you the SATs? Because I could do you for 3 hours and 45 minutes with a 10 minute break halfway through for snacks."

Derek chuckled, "That's a horrible line."

"Are your pants a compressed file?" Spencer tried again, letting his hand trail downward to the top button on Derek's jeans, "Because I'd really like to unzip them…"

Derek sighed, "That's not worse, but then again, it's not much better."

Spencer pouted, "Bullshit! That was a good one."

Derek shook his head, "I'm afraid not, kiddo."

"You know what? You probably don't get my jokes because you only have a Masters." Spencer slurred, nearly tripping over his own feet and grabbing onto Derek's arm with both hands.

Derek laughed, "Wow, that was mean."

"No, it wasn't. I'm drunk, I can say whatever I want," Spencer's hand fell further south, gripping sloppily at the crotch of Derek's jeans and starting to chuckle as he giggled out, "And I can touch you wherever I want."

Derek shuffled Spencer towards his bedroom, amused as all hell, "You are aware that you just insulted my intelligence and grabbed my dick, right?"

Spencer's eyes narrowed, "Poppycock! That's my favorite backlash term because it has the word 'cock' in it!"

Derek thundered out a laugh, "Oh, my God, Spencer. You are so drunk."

Spencer laughed out, repeating loudly, "I AM SO DRUNK!"

Derek chuckled, "I am full-force teasing you about this tomorrow, I hope you know."

Spencer pressed a sloppy kiss to Derek's neck, "I don't care. You can tease me all you want. You can tease me in bed... all... night… long you sexy stallion of a man, you," Spencer started to poke at Derek's chest, "You are going to touch me. That's what you're going to do. All over my bed. So rough... so hard... fuck. I can almost—hey!"

Derek pushed Spencer's face away despite how much he wanted to take Spencer up on his offer. I mean, the kid is practically throwing himself at him. Hell, if he wanted, he could throw Spencer on the bed, take four shots of vodka straight without a chaser, come back in and have crazy, wild, drunken sex. Sounds like a fucking blast. But, damn him, he respects Spencer way too much to go nuts at night and blame it on the alcohol when the sun comes up. He's falling in love with this stumbling, giggling mess and when he finally makes love to him, Derek wants it to be special. And if it can't be special, he kind of wants Spencer to at least be coherent: bare minimum.

Spencer rubbed his free hand along the inseam of Derek's jeans, reeking of beer as he breathed into his ear, "I want to make you feel good... fuck, Derek, I want it so bad. Like, dude, you don't even know."

Derek sighed dejectedly as his ego gained like a billion points, "Spencer, I want that too. Just not now. You're too drunk, man, I'm sorry."

Spencer wrapped his arms around his waist and buried his face into Derek's bicep, "Please?"

Derek replied, "I'm sorry. I can't do this. Not tonight."

Spencer whimpered, "Do you even like me at all? Like… do you like like me?"

Derek chuckled, "Yeah. I like like you a lot. That's why I can't bed you right now. You can't give consent when you're shitfaced—and believe me, you are shitfaced and a half, my friend."

"Derek, wait," Spencer hung off of Derek's shoulder as he stopped them in their tracks, "Sometimes I wonder why I was born. Like… why do I exist at this time in this place on this planet? If there is no God, no higher power, then what's the point? Am I some sort of genetic catastrophe, or am I a miracle? Am I dirt, or am I a little bit of magic? Who am I, you know? What is my purpose?"

Derek pushed Spencer into his room, "Wow. You just got real deep all of a sudden."

"Well, I'd like you to be deep inside me right now, but apparently I'm too drunk for that. So, woo hoo. Fuck you." Spencer replied, stumbling face first onto his bed, "I'm sad."

Derek patted his partner's leg, "Sorry, kid. You should have been fuck buddies with a seedier guy."

"Mmm… nope. I can't do that. You, sir… you're hot. And you're nice and you're easy to talk to and you make my stomach feel all woozy and then my head gets all special needs..." Spencer said into the sheets, "I mean, this is so fucked up. I'm your teacher. I teach you. You're my student."

Derek glanced down at Spencer, "Wow, really? Had no idea."

"Derek…" Spencer started to pout, complaining loudly as he turned himself around lazily, "I want to have one of those orgasms where I arch off of the sheets and scream. You know the ones that I'm talking about..."

Derek mumbled, "Well, that was one hell of a subject change."

"Haven't had one of those since I was like… nineteen," Spencer rambled at the ceiling, "God, it's been a while since I came like that."

Derek gazed down at him, "Since Ethan?"

Spencer snickered, "Nah. He was really good in bed, but… those wild orgasms were the ones only I could give."

Derek started untying Spencer's only shoe, "Ooh, so little Pretty Boy explored the hills and valleys of his body. Would have paid for a ticket to that show."

Spencer chuckled into the pillow, "No, you wouldn't. I have this really weird kink. I was way too scared to tell Ethan about it, so I used it on myself."

Derek pulled the final knot away from the sneaker, "What is it?"

Spencer hid his face in his hands, "Don't judge me."

Derek teased the shoe off of Spencer's foot, running his finger down the sensitive underside, "I would never."

Spencer laughed out, "No! I hate being tickled! Aah!"

Derek wiggled his fingers along the dancer's foot and he screeched with laughter, pulling it away from him, "Tell me, and I'll stop."

"Fine, I'll tell you…" Spencer stretched his arms out on the bed and giggled, looking up at Derek with his large brown eyes, "I used to… I'd put on… lipstick. Sometimes I would wear heels too. I know, I know. Weird. I'm not a cross-dresser, I swear. I just get off on mild feminization."

Derek's eyes widened, "Heels though? Seriously?"

Spencer blushed and hid his face again, "I knew you would judge me!"

Derek grinned, "I'm not judging you. I'm picturing it... it's kind of hot actually in the weirdest way."

Spencer lazily kicked a foot toward Derek, "I'm so embarrassed! Why did I tell you?!"

Derek caught the foot and pulled off Spencer's striped sock, gripping the other plain blue one and tugging, "Because you have a low tolerance for local brews and hate tickling. So, uh. Who's the one with the Master's now, bitch?"

Spencer giggled into the sheets as Derek wrestled his slacks off of him, "Whatever. You can't judge me because I'm really, really drunk right now. And horny. And I want to eat a sandwich, but then again I want to go streaking. Can I do both?"

Derek patted Spencer's back, "Sit up, kid."

Spencer launched himself up sloppily into a seated position and let Derek finish on the buttons to his black shirt, "Do you think Daniel Radcliffe will ever notice me?"

Derek found a large tee shirt and fanned it out, closing the drawer with his hip, "I have lost the ability to follow you at this point."

Spencer mumbled as Derek wrestled the shirt over his head, "I want to be a teddy bear when I grow up."

Derek shook his head, "That's not possible."

"I was kind of constipated on Saturday. Could you tell?" Spencer asked.

Derek wrinkled his nose, "Dude. Overshare."

"I cleared it out though. Drank a shit ton of prune juice. I'm all good now," Spencer pushed his arms through the holes and flopped down on his back, staring up at Derek with a lazy smile on his face as he ran his fingers over Derek's face, "… I love you."

Derek paused, "Wh… what?"

Spencer closed his eyes and slurred, "I don't wanna tell you, because I don't want you to leave me. Everybody I love leaves me. Mom, Ethan, Maeve… it's only a matter of time before you do too. But, I'm so in love with you. And… I'm scared. I'm really scared of losing you. That's why I ride you so hard in rehearsals. If we do badly, you go home back to Illinois and you'll forget all about me. You'll mean so much to me, and to you, I'll be nothing," Spencer sniffed, "I'm not ready for that. Not yet. I know this feeling is just going to get worse, but you know what? I just... I want to lose myself in you while I still can. I want to feel you holding me, and kissing me, and making love to me as much as I can before the memory is all I have left. I was so afraid of coming off too strong tonight, so I drank. Then, I got even more afraid and kept drinking. And now we're here, and you won't even have me. What if you never have me? What if we tank next week, and I'm stuck in California and you forget me before I even know what it's like to be with you?"

Derek pushed Spencer's hair out of his face and leaned down to kiss his forehead, "I could never forget you."

Spencer clenched down hard on his eyes, "That's what my mother said. A few days after, I came home and she didn't know who I was. Locked me in a closet for three hours."

"I'm sorry," Derek lay down beside him and wrapped his partner in his arms.

Spencer sniffed, "I'm over it. She loves me, I know she does. It's just… she has times when her mind won't let her. I don't want us to end up like that."

Derek asked, "Like what?"

Spencer replied, wiping at his face, "Separated."

"Spence, I'm not bowing out. Ever. If we get the boot tomorrow, I'm going to stick around, man, as long as you want me. You've done a number on me, kid. A serious one. There's no way I could leave you, man, I don't know how."

Spencer leaned into Derek and mumbled out, "I can't believe you. If I do, it's going to hurt so bad, and I have to be ready."

Derek kissed the Spencer's hair, "Fine. But, when you let me in, tell me. Until then, I'll be here. By your side. As long as I can."

Spencer's eyes closed and he reached up to press his hand against Derek's, "Why did I drink so much? My emotions are all over the place, and usually I pretend I don't have them."

Derek laughed, "Yeah, I've gathered that."

"Sleep here tonight," Spencer rolled over and pressed his face into Derek's chest, "You know, so I don't choke on my own vomit."

Derek patted Spencer's hair and chuckled, "Thank you. I really needed that metal picture."

Spencer mumbled, "You never know. Some people are into that shit."

"I am not one of them," Derek replied, kissing Spencer's forehead, "But, don't worry. I'll keep you safe."

Spencer smiled into Derek's shirt, "…really?"

Derek answered, "Yeah. As long as I'm here, nothing bad is going to happen to you. I won't let it."

Spencer kissed at his partner's chest, "You can't promise that."

Derek added, "I can promise to try."

"You cheesy bastard," Spencer laughed out, glancing up at Derek through hooded eyes, "When we wake up tomorrow, I can't be held responsible for anything I've said. I have taken in some alcohol. And the alcohol made me say words. Alcohol is the devil."

Derek pulled him in closer, reaching up to the bedside lamp to turn off the light, "As far as I'm concerned, you didn't say anything at all."

Spencer kissed his neck as the light cut off and bathed them in darkness, "Good. Because if you bring any of this up tomorrow, I am kicking every inch of your ass."

Derek chuckled, "And coming back for seconds?"

Spencer pulled his arms around Derek, "Bingo."

Derek lay there in silence for a moment, content until Spencer whispered, "Is Miley Cyrus a fairy tale, or is she real life?"

When Derek woke, Spencer was still lying across Derek's chest, knocked the fuck out. Turns out, he snores when he's really deep in it. It's kind of cute. The light streamed in through the window and hit his curls in a way that made them look nearly golden, setting his pale face aglow. His long eyelashes were still and his cheeks a bit rosy in sleep. They hadn't gotten under the blankets the night before, so Derek was a little chilly, but he didn't mind. Spencer's leg was wrapped around Derek's and he cuddled into him as if he were a large teddy. Derek smiled over at him and watched as Spencer made a little wrinkled face for a moment, his features flattening out again. He was a cute little slip of a thing. It didn't help that he was drowned in just an oversized tee shirt and baggy plaid boxers.

Derek has decided that he rather likes waking up beside Spencer.

The sun shone brighter through the curtains, the day felt easier after greeting it with a smile, and the morning was definitely warmer with the tall, thin, fuzzy haired space heater all curled up on him. Spencer snored a little louder, letting out a shudder and wrapping his arms tighter around Derek as he mumbled, "No, Baggins… that's my candy."

Derek chuckled. This kid is the funniest thing. He was even funnier under the influence last night. Derek thought back to the things his partner had said. Yes, Spencer had been more than a little drunk, but… he told Derek that he loved him. After this whole month filled with ups and downs, laughs and tears, kisses and swear words; Derek can accurately say that he didn't see that coming. Spencer had been adamant in proving that he didn't love Derek. He had even gone as far as to say that he couldn't possibly. But, now, it's all starting to make sense.

Spencer clearly had a multitude of abandonment issues, all deeply rooted in the fact that the people he loves constantly leave him in the lurch. His mother has some sort of sickness that keeps them apart, his dad was a deadbeat, and the only girl he had ever loved was shot and killed right in front of him. The kid is downright terrified to love again. Yet, the two men met and they felt this connection that keeps growing stronger and stronger every day.

It scares Derek a little too, believe him it does. All of these emotions can be quite taxing when they fall all at once. The thing is, Derek wasn't so afraid to open his heart up when the time came to accept someone new into it. He's never experienced hurt like that—especially not over and over again—so, he had no reason to hold back. Derek loves fiercely, with all that he is. He always has. He's taken care of his mother and sisters nonstop since he was a kid. If he knows how to do anything, he knows how to love. So, he is ready to wait for Spencer to open up. Spencer will eventually. Kid just needs someone patient. And, Derek's got nothing but time.

He leaned down and kissed Spencer's forehead, chuckling to himself as the people in the apartment above him started to drag something heavy across the floor. God, what is that? It sounded like they were scraping an entire wardrobe across hardwood very, very slowly. Derek rolled his eyes and glanced back down at his sleeping lover. Huh. Lover. Derek doesn't know if that's too much too soon. Lover usually has a sexual undertone, and while the two have let loose together once, they haven't technically sealed the deal yet. Come to think about sex, Spencer did go on and on about how ready he was last night. Derek damn sure was ready. Hell, he was wondering when they'd get around to it as well.

But, now didn't seem like the right time.

Not at all.

Spencer was knocked out in a drunken haze, there was no waking him up without getting punched in the face. Derek sighed and glanced back at him. Well, now he's bored. He's got nothing to do. He can't go back to sleep now, he's already awake. And, while Spencer was very nice to look at, he's had his fill of creepy staring for now.

He pulled himself up, scratching idly and heading to Spencer's bathroom. He flitted through Spencer's bathroom shelves and found several fluffy white towels and washcloths and grabbed one of each. Derek quickly used the toilet, washed his hands, and brushed his teeth, setting the tub water to a decent temperature and letting the water run for a moment to test it before setting the shower on. And that's when Derek noticed Spencer's shower curtain. It was blue with a dark object in the middle of it that looked like a sleek, black Chevy. Derek peered closer. It was an old car too. Must be one of the 1960's creations. Oh, wow. He knows exactly which car this is.

Derek rolled his eyes. Spencer has a problem. A nerd problem.

He pulled his shirt over his head and rid himself of the rest of his clothes, stepping into the shower with a washcloth. Derek ran his head under the warm water and nearly moaned at the feel of the heat on his skin. The water pressure was exquisite. Powerful enough to press the hot water into your muscles in a soothing slap, but not hard enough to sting. Yeah, that's nice. That's real nice. Derek opened his eyes and looked around for the soap and found the little rack sitting out beside the knobs. It had some sort of unscented therapeutic body wash for sensitive skin, a razor, a pair of nail clippers, facial cleanser, and a bottle of clearance shampoo with vanilla extract. Turns out, Spencer is a simple guy. One with sensitive skin, short nails, and a fear of breakouts. Derek chuckled to himself as he imagined Spencer fretting over his skin in the mirror.

The thought came way too easily.

Derek grabbed the soap and squirted some on his washcloth. Therapeutic body wash it is. He wetted the cloth and rubbed the soap into a lather, stepping back from the water for a moment to rub it along his shoulder and—wow. That soap feels amazing. There's some sort of exfoliation going on with refreshing eucalyptus because damn. He already feels like a new man. Derek let out an interested smile, running the soap everywhere he could reach. Damn, that's some good soap. He turned over the label. He's definitely gotta get himself some of that.

Rinsing himself off, Derek stood under the water, mind drifting. Spencer showers in here at least once a day. Maybe even twice. He strips and sets his glasses on the counter and steps under the shower. The beads of water and the heat billowing smoke all around his tall, lithe, firm nude body. His hair would get all wet and tangled, pressed to his forehead and the back of his neck. Ooh. Okay. Derek let his mind wander further. Spencer would push it out of his face and reach for the shampoo, pouring it into his hand and tangling it into his hair. The brown curls would grow sudsy and moist as he lathered and held his face under the spray, rinsing out his hair. His arms would raise behind his head as he pushed the shampoo out, grabbing the soap next. And then, oh, yeah. Derek felt his blood rush south as he let his thoughts continue. Spencer would squeeze the soap onto his washcloth and run his lathery cloth all over his skin, suds cascading down his defined chest, his slender back, his perky little rear. Derek licked his lips and his hand almost traveled downward before he remembered.

No. Bad Derek

You're not going to spank it in Spencer's shower. You're not going to be that guy. Especially when the vision he's getting off to is live in the flesh just one room away. Derek ran the washcloth against himself once more and rinsed off, feeling smoggy, unsatisfied, and a little bit guilty. But, not guilty enough to regret it.

Derek grabbed the towel off of the rack and started patting down his face when he heard a yell from the bedroom, "Holy shit! Fuck! No! No! No!"

Wrapping the towel around himself, Derek pulled open the door, rushed down the hallway and skidded into Spencer's room still wet and somewhat shaky, "Spencer, are you okay?"

Spencer stared at the clock in shock before launching himself out of bed and tossing on his glasses. The dancer picked a pair of sweats off of the floor and jumped awkwardly into them as he fretted aloud to Derek, "It's 10:42, Derek, we slept in! Fuck, we're late for rehearsal! I can't believe you didn't wake me up!"

Derek started to laugh as Spencer pulled his shirt off and rushed to the drawer, grabbing a new one, "Kid, kid. Slow down."

Spencer rolled his eyes at his selection, hair almost as wild as his expression, "What do you mean slow down! We're almost three hours late for—"

"Spencer, it's Tuesday," Derek said slowly.

Spencer blinked at the tee shirt in his hand and let it fall back into the drawer, "…oh."

"We're not due at the ballroom until six at night. And I checked Twitter last night. We weren't nominated for a spotlight so you don't even have to be fully cognizant for the rest of the day," Derek chuckled at him and the dancer smiled lazily and walked back a few steps, falling back into the bed. Spencer mumbled something that sounded like "thank God, I was flipping out" before he pulled the covers over his shoulders and shoved his face into the pillows. As a forethought, one of his hands flew out from under the sheets holding his glasses. His hand felt around and placed them back on his nightstand before snapping it back under the pile of covers.

Spencer said into the fabric, "Mmm… snooze."

Derek raised his eyebrows, "You sure you can go back to sleep now? You just had a Code Red."

Spencer murmured, "And the relaxation that came from that false alarm was the most euphoric feeling on the planet. I'm holding on to it as long as I can."

Derek replied with a shrug, heading to the door, "Okay, whatever. I'm going to dry off then. While this towel is soft, clothes would be nice-"

"Hang on, hang on. Did you say towel?" Spencer's voice rang out along with the sound of shuffling sheets. Derek looked over his shoulder and Spencer was sitting straight up with his glasses on, eyeing him like he was a four-course meal. Spencer still looked tired, but the haze of arousal was starting to fall over his eyes, "Well, good morning to me…"

Derek smiled cockily and turned to face Spencer, "You like what you see?"

Spencer smiled tiredly, "Yeah."

Derek winked, reaching behind his head and shamelessly flexing the muscles high on his arms, "Yeah?"

Spencer quickly grew serious, "I'm aroused."

Derek raised his eyebrows and asked with a grin, "…seriously? That fast?"

"Yes, and—don't smile!" Spencer winced, "It's getting worse. Oh… this one's persistent."

Derek decided to tease him a little. He bit his lip softly and looked Spencer up and down with his best bedroom eyes. Then... wait for it... Derek parted his lips just so and let out a gentle, "Nnn..."

"Uhnn," Spencer replied instantly, face clouded in desire before he grimaced, "Wow, thanks. Now I have a boner."

Derek replied easily, "I've been known to have that effect."

Spencer's eyes traveled down Derek's body, "I wonder what happens when the towel comes off."

Derek chuckled, "I don't know. We'll have to find out."

"Come to bed," Spencer beckoned.

Derek shook his head, "Nope. I need to dry off. I'm all wet..."

"Perfect," Spencer smiled deviously.

"You were up late. And drinking. You need to get as much oxygen as you can to your brain so that you don't suffer any repercussions today, and that's best achieved through rest. Go ahead and get more sleep. I'm going to get dressed and make some breakfast and put on a pot of coffee. That sound good?" Derek asked.

Spencer smiled tiredly, "You're so nice."

Derek gave Spencer a confused look.

Spencer stretched his hands out, "Please. Five minutes. Then, I'll shut up, I promise."

Derek raised his eyebrows.

Spencer pleaded, "Four?"

"You can't complain when I get the sheets all damp," Derek let out a small laugh, making his way over to the bed and climbing on top of Spencer in nothing but the towel.

Spencer wrapped his arms around Derek's neck, "I'll take my chances."

The two met in a long, lazy kiss, all lips and hands. Spencer ran his fingers down Derek's wet chest and flipped him over on his back, grinning widely on top of him, "We've got a lot of time ahead of us. Long day. No plans." Spencer wiggled his shoulders, "How about we relieve a little tension?"

Derek let his hands fall to low on Spencer's waist, "Do you want a massage, baby boy?"

Spencer shook his head, "No..."

Derek guessed again with a smile, "Do you want to take a bath together?"

Spencer replied with another head shake, "No…"

Derek asked, "Then, what do you want?"

Spencer started to press soft, little kisses along the side of Derek's neck. Nice and gentle. Yet, as his hands ran down Derek's body, they were firm and purposeful. Spencer straddled him and pushed his hair out of his face as he looked up into Derek's eyes, "I want to ride you like a steed in the Kentucky Derby. Hard and fast, but somehow, so entrancing that you can't look away and kinda want to throw money at me."

Derek chuckled, "You come up with the most flickted analogies."

Spencer traced a pattern on Derek's bare chest, "You love it."

Derek smiled out, "Three more minutes."

Spencer pouted, but continued his regiment down Derek's neck. He reached the clavicle and started sucking right below his collarbone. Dammit, Spencer knew the rules. Nowhere it would show. But, somehow… Derek could care less. He wanted Spencer to mark him up, claim him, suck bruises into his skin. Yesterday, it was Spencer who had the "bee sting", or as Spencer called it, "a big neon sign that says 'slut'." Now, it was Derek's turn. He doesn't mind that title at all. Slut, whore, floosy. He's been called them all. And he wears them with pride. Why wouldn't he? Derek refuses to be insulted by anybody other than himself, so he'll walk around wearing Spencer's stain on his neck. Easy. Yeah, he likes sex. And if he's with the right person, you'd be damn sure that he'll do some pretty shameful things in the bedroom. But, it's all good. He'll be Spencer's slut any day.

Once that love bite was nice and sore, Spencer pressed the tip of his tongue against it and began to travel further down, giving his chest some attention. Derek called, "Two minutes."

Spencer chuckled darkly and shoved his hand down Derek's body, "Two minutes is all I need."

After Derek tore himself away from Spencer's soft kisses and loving caresses, he left his lazy lover in bed. Derek smiled to himself. He's pretty sure lover is the correct term. It feels right now that he's experiencing it. Rising from Spencer's bed in nothing but yesterday's jeans and at least three hickeys, glancing back to see Spencer sans tee shirt staring back up at him adoringly as he peeked out from a his rumpled pile of sheets. Derek walked down the dimly lit hallway toward the kitchen. Bare feet against the waxed wood, fingers trailing along the sea green paint on the walls, Derek's thoughts lingered to the man in that bed and he knew somehow that he was on Spencer's mind as well. It's a good feeling.

Derek near cursed himself.

He couldn't get this stupid smile off of his face.

Even as he made his way to the living room, Derek had to bite his own lips to keep it from creeping back up on his face and even then he failed. Whatever. He was happy. Really happy. For some reason, this kind of makes him want to call his mother and shout it from the rooftops.

Spencer was his.

Yeah, it's not official or anything. But… that is so totally what's going on here. Spencer loved him and Derek loved Spencer back. They just rolled around for seven minutes doing nothing but holding each other and trading kisses, enjoying the silence—enjoying each other's presence. This right here is rare. Rare as it gets. In all of Derek's life, he's never met someone who's made him feel like this. Free, adored, barely tethered to the ground.

Derek walked over to the curtains and opened them, letting the light in. The view wasn't that bad. It was the back area of the building that it faced, but in Derek's opinion, that was a great idea. No peeping toms. Then again, Derek paused, he did see a picture of Spencer on the phone leaning on the outside of a Cheesecake Factory on TMZ last week. It wasn't that good an angle either. Now that Derek's thinking about it, the kid's finger was like halfway to his nose. He chuckled, adjusting his waistband before heading to the kitchenette.

There was half of a carton of eggs, two tubs of low fat vanilla yogurt, a decently sized slab of American cheese wrapped in wax paper, an assortment of fruits and vegetables, one third of a bell pepper, four bottles of local brew left over from last night, and almost an entire gallon of whole milk in Spencer's fridge. Wow, he's running pretty low. Derek took out the eggs and the yogurt and stared at the two for a moment. He was really going to have to improvise.

Searching the cabinets, Derek found a regrettable amount of protein bars and like three loaves of bread. Okay. He can work with this.

Within a twenty or so minutes he was pretty proud of himself. He sprayed down a frying pan and put some eggs on sunny side up. Heating up the juices of a strip of bell pepper, he brushed it onto the bread and heated it up in the pan until it formed a nice, crisp toasted outer layer with a soft center. Next, he spooned some vanilla yogurt into two smaller bowls. Derek grabbed a protein bar and smashed the living shit out of it while it was still in its packaging. He took a lemon out and ran a knife over it, getting a few shavings of the skin and some of its juice into the vanilla yogurt and mixing them in to give it a little zest before opening the packaging and sprinkling a nice layer of the granola and chocolate crumbles on top of it. Lastly, a cup of coffee from Spencer's beloved Peruvian brewer.

Alright. Derek smiled to himself. He's a regular fucking Emeril.

He took a plate and a mug down the hall and into Spencer's room. The dancer was face first into the pillow, arms laying lazily underneath and one foot poking out from the sheets. Derek said nothing and placed the mug beside Spencer. Spencer made a face and groaned, "Ten more minutes, man, come on."

Derek set the plate down beside it and said simply, "Food. Coffee. You're welcome."

Spencer's fuzzy haired head popped up, and his eyes opened lazily, "Coffee?"

Derek nodded, "Yep."

Spencer asked, "And I don't have to get up and make it myself? It's already there, waiting for me?"

"Yeah. Like magic," Derek sat down on the edge of the bed beside him and kissed his sleepy lover's cheek.

Spencer murmured drowsily as he shifted to sit up, "Magic…"

Derek handed him the cup and Spencer grabbed it slowly, taking a sip and wrinkling his little nose, "Did you use creamer?"

Derek nodded, "Yeah."

Spencer inquired, "Three tablespoons of it and four packets of Splenda?"

Derek sighed in disappointment, "Two packets…"

"Aww, babe," Spencer patted his back and smiled, "You tried."

Derek hung his head and was rewarded for his efforts with a soft kiss on the temple before Spencer noticed the breakfast at his side. Then, Derek got a tangled haired forehead nudge to the shoulder. Well, ain't that a cute way to say "thank you"? Spencer took the fork and shoveled a bit of egg into his mouth. He grinned, "I can't make sunny side. I always fuck it up. This is nice."

"Thanks. My dad taught me how and I guess it stuck," Derek replied, "It's my favorite way to make them."

Spencer patted the bed beside him, "Go grab a plate and join me. Just don't drop anything in here. My neighbor's a grad student and there are roaches in his apartment."

Derek smiled, "Alright."

Spencer leaned forward and Derek closed the space between them and they shared a chaste kiss. Wow. They've never kissed like that before. All quick and domestic-like. Derek kind of likes it. Spencer's cheeks started to redden as he nudged at him, "Don't overthink that. Go. Hurry back."

Derek strode out of the room and made his way to the kitchen, taking his plate and mug of black coffee off of the counter. He took his time. He reveled in the morning laziness and cloud of happiness and love he was floating on as he walked back into the room. Spencer was already up by the time Derek got back. With a slice of toast in his mouth, the dancer stood with one hand resting on the barre and his outside foot pointed and cradled right above the base of his inside heel. Derek chuckled at the sight, "Do you ever stop working?"

"I'm not working," Spencer mumbled around a bite of his toast, leaning forward and letting his back foot stretch outward as he extended the hand with his toast in it, "I want to get my lines straighter when I extend and… I just thought of something that may or may not be choreo."

Derek sat on Spencer's bed and ate a forkful of eggs, singing out in between chews, "Workaholic."

Spencer raised his outside arm to fifth position and said back distractedly, "It's pronounced 'visionary'."

Derek laughed and took another bite, "You're lucky you're cute, smartmouth."

Spencer took another bite of toast and closed his eyes, taking his hand off of the barre and raising both hands before him in second position and letting out a 180 degree turn. He leaned into another arabesque and smiled as he chewed. Derek watched as Spencer stretched, "Do you do this every morning?"

"Yes," Spencer replied, "It wakes up your muscles and makes you less lethargic."

Derek commented, "You didn't do this the last time I woke up in here."

"Of course, I didn't. I had a crush on you," Spencer replied easily, "I didn't want you to think I was weird."

Derek added around a bite of eggs, "What, you've already gotten so comfortable with me that you don't care what you look like anymore?"

Spencer shook his head and rested his hand on the barre, rising up demi, "Hell no. I know you a little better now, and… I don't know. I just feel like this is one thing I love to do that won't freak you out."

Derek shrugged, "There's not much you could do to make me quit you at this point. I have my crush goggles on still, so everything about you is rainbows and butterflies."

"Oh, yeah?" Spencer grinned, confessing, "I once made out with a picture of Taye Diggs."

Derek replied, "What is it with white people and Taye Diggs?"

"Nice reference, Wilhelmina." Spencer laughed and pulled himself from the barre to sit close beside Derek the grab his bowl of yogurt and smiling, "And thank you for breakfast. I know I don't keep the fridge as stocked as I should, so this must have been a challenge."

Derek winked, "Anytime, kiddo."

Spencer leaned his head on Derek's shoulder, taking a bite of his yogurt and moaning gently, "How do you make yogurt taste so awesome?"

Derek added, "Ancient secret, passed down from Morgan to Morgan for generations."

Spencer took another bite of it and locked eyes with Derek as he licked the spoon suggestively and biting his lip, "Ooh, ancestry. Hot."

Derek chuckled and finished off his eggs, "Seriously?"

Spencer dipped his spoon into the yogurt again and scratched absently at his neck, "Mmmhmm."

Derek glanced at Spencer as the dancer took another bite of yogurt, "One would think you've never had yogurt before. Kid, let me break it to you… it's not that good."

Spencer scratched higher onto his jaw and pulled the spoon out of his mouth, "I beg to differ, dude. This is some awesome fucking yogurt. Maybe it's the granola. I do like granola…"

Derek dipped his finger into his own yogurt and sucked, pulling his finger out, "Nah, you're just weird."

"Wouldn't be the first time you called me that," Spencer shrugged, scratching at his cheek and taking another bite.

Derek kissed at Spencer's jaw, "True there."

Spencer sighed out a quiet moan, setting the cup aside and pushing Derek's plate away to climb on top of Derek's lap and yank him into a long, lazy kiss. Surprised, Derek wrapped his arms around Spencer and his eyes widened as the dancer pulled his top off and grabbed his face to kiss him hard again. Spencer moaned into the kiss, one arm wrapping around Derek's neck and the other scratching away at his pale collarbone.

Derek pulled back for a moment, "Not that I'm not stoked, but… what's going on?"

Spencer waved a hand over his face to fan it, "I'm really hot."

Derek chuckled, "No kidding."

Spencer shook his head, "Not that kind of hot, Derek. My shirt just felt stifling kind of like I've still got some horny left over from this morning."

Derek shrugged, "Good enough for me."

"Great," Spencer replied, pulling Derek back into a kiss and pushing him into the bed. Derek's back landed on the white sheets and Spencer's tongue slipped into his mouth. Derek let his hands wander up Spencer's back, his nails sliding down his shoulder blades as Spencer piped up, "Ahh, that's nice. A little more to the left."

Derek paused and obliged, "…okay."

As he scratched Spencer's back, the dancer pulled his lips from Derek's and groaned, scratching at his slender neck, "Mmm…"

Derek broke the kiss, "Alright. What's with you?"

"Nothing. Keep scratching my back. Just a little higher. Jesus, did you turn the heat up when you went into the kitchen or something because it's boiling in here," Spencer muttered out as Derek scratched his back, his own nails moving to scratch at his cheek, "So hot…"

Derek's eyes widened, "Dude."

Spencer sighed impatiently and pushed his face into Derek's shoulder to nuzzle himself there, "What?"

Derek continued, "You're scratching, you're hot… what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Shut up and keep scratching." Spencer rolled his eyes against Derek's skin and started kissing at Derek's neck, "Lower… lower… there! Ahh…"

"Wait, wait, wait. Kid, look at me," Derek pushed away from Spencer and checked him over in shock, "Spencer, your eyes are huge!"

Spencer glanced down at him with a red, puffy skin under his eyes. There were patches of his skin growing pink and irritated all over his face and neck, "Jeez, I know they're kind of girly, but—"

Derek panicked, "Whoa! Holy… crap!"

Spencer sighed, "What are you talking about?"

"You're breaking out. Like seriously breaking out," Derek replied worriedly, "Your skin's all red."

Spencer's glared down at him through puffy eyes, "No, that can't be. I only get that when I eat citrus."

Derek groaned self-deprecatingly, "Fuck. The yogurt."

"That was some really good yogurt," Spencer grinned, reaching over to the table to grab the bowl of yogurt only to get his hand slapped, "Ow!"

Derek added, "There's lemon in the yogurt!"

Spencer went through a moment of realization as he scratched his irritated neck, "Oh… that would explain it…"

Derek gasped, "Are you going to be okay?"

Spencer nodded easily, "Yeah. For now, I'm good. My throat shouldn't close up for at least an hour."

"What?! Come on, we have to get you to a hospital." Derek pulled Spencer up and dragged him over to the edge of the bed. He rose and searched for his tee shirt, pulling it over his head and looking for something for Spencer to wear. Derek searched the drawers and found a sweatshirt and one of his own stolen pairs of shorts. As soon as he turned around to look at Spencer, his whole face was bright pink, the red patches already starting to form hives. Crap. Spencer pulled the sweatshirt over his head and got on the shorts in a quick time, but he grew very tired. He patted at his face, "I'm… I'm really lightheaded…"

Derek grabbed him and pulled him close, asking, "Where's your insurance card?"

Spencer pointed breathlessly, "Wallet. Pants. Last night's pants."

Derek searched the floor for the pants and found them, digging into it for the wallet and shoving it into his denim pockets. He pulled Spencer into his arms and carried him out of the apartment, grabbing both of their keys off of the counter on his way out. They made it down the narrow steps and out of the front of the building when Spencer started to laugh softly, "Your beard is really prickly."

"Shit, man. I'm so sorry. I am so fucking sorry," Derek apologized as he unlocked his truck and pushed Spencer into the backseat, "Just… lay down, okay? Do you know where the hospital is?"

Spencer responded lazily, "Broad and Olney. Right by the station."

Derek nodded, taking note as he closed the door and ran around to his side of the car and hopped in. As soon as the key was in the ignition, the two were off. Derek was worrying the whole way, frantically apologizing and reassuring Spencer that everything was going to be okay. They managed to hit every single red light, stop sign, and speed bump imaginable on their way to the hospital, but when they finally made it there, Spencer's face was beat red. Thank God, his eyes didn't get any puffier. Truth be told, he was rocking the whole allergic reaction thing. He just looked really flushed mostly, a few rashes on his cheeks and forehead darkening his under eye.

Spencer weakly fought him off as Derek hauled him into his arms and brought him into the emergency room. The dancer scratched at his neck and mumbled under his breath about his surroundings as they approached the desk. Derek blurted out to the receptionist, "He's allergic to citrus and I didn't know and I made him some special yogurt and now he's all puffy and he has a fever and his throat might close up and I don't want him to die and—"

The receptionist said lazily, "Name?"

"Doctor Spencer…" Derek reached one-handed into his back pocket and pulled out Spencer's wallet and grabbed his license to read off, "Kelsey Reid—Kelsey, really?"

Spencer rolled his eyes, "It's a family name."

The receptionist clicked on her computer, asking, "Insurance?"

Derek searched through Spencer's card and read off, "Blue Cross. Western NY."

The receptionist continued to click, glancing up simply, "Social?"

Spencer laughed, "Not really. I spend a lot of time reading."

She deadpanned, "Last time I heard that joke I laughed so hard, I fell off my dinosaur. Social?"

Derek cut her off and growled at the stout woman from across the desk, "Listen, lady. My friend here is breaking into hives and he's getting puffy and loopy and I'm really fucking scared. Now, you're going to get someone to fix him before I climb over this little table and get myself arrested, are we clear?"

"Well," she leaned over the desk, saying with finality in her eyes, "If Dr. Reid gives me his SSN, I can get him into the system. If you keep complaining, you're wasting your own time. Now, I'm going to ask again. Social?"

Spencer sighed and rattled off the numbers for her to program in and she pointed to a row of empty chairs, "Someone will see you momentarily."

Derek growled, "Oh, so now we have to wait?! Look at him?! He could be dying?!"

Spencer breathed out, "My allergy is nonfatal for the next forty minutes, Derek. We do have time."

Derek puffed himself up, heading to the seats and standing right by them without letting his lover go, "I don't care. Look at you, you've got this fever and I know you can't see well and you're itchy. I just… I don't want to see you hurt. Ever. Not even a little bit. And, fuck, this is all my fault. I'm so sorry. Please get better."

Spencer patted Derek's cheek weakly, "You have such a strong jawline. It's like… chiseled as hell. You could cut glass on that shit. Like one of those… knife thingies. You have a knife jaw."

Derek laughed tiredly, "You're scaring me."

Spencer made a grumpy face and started whining, "Put me down. I'm a grown up."

Derek replied, "I know, but you're not well and I don't want you to fall."

Spencer added, "Are you kidding? I'm perfect. I'll fuckin… storm the Bastille right now. Easy. Run a marathon and everything."

Derek worried, "Please stop rambling. I'm freaking out and you're not helping."

The receptionist called out, "Dr. Reid!"

Derek growled, "Finally!"

A/N: This story is way longer than I thought it was, so in a few chapters, I'm going to end this and make it into a 'verse. By the end of this month, there will be a new installments of this fic under a sequel name (I'm thinking Raising the Barre: Center Stage or something like that). There will be no waiting period, no hiatus, no nothing. This story will by no means be over, it will just be continued in a 'verse so that people don't freak out when they look at the word count, because this puppy is over 200K words and I just can't ask that of a new reader. So, look forward to that if you're still with me, chickies.

Love,

Blue