A/N: Alas, we've reached the end. Kind of.

Love,

Blue

Raising the Barre

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: T-R-U-S-T

Derek glanced at the clock on his side of the bed. It was six thirty three in the morning. They've got time. Team Wild Card isn't scheduled to be at the studio until eight forty five, and it's only a fifteen minute drive. That leaves an hour and fifty seven minutes to spare give and take. They also have to eat, and shower, and shave. Between the two that would take another twenty minutes to a half hour. So, that leaves them with an hour and thirty seven minutes. Hmm. That's a decent chunk of time. A lot could get done between then. Maybe something quick and passionate. Maybe several quick and passionate things in a row. Maybe a bushel of those quickies and a sexy shower. Or, they could take that whole hour and a half making slow, burning, fiery love. Right here. Without having to even get out of bed. Derek smiled to himself. Woo buddy. That would be nice. Very nice indeed.

He's never been so excited this early in the day!

Derek turned with a plotting grin on his face, expecting to see a soft, serene, sleeping Spencer and finding in his stead a pile of empty sheets. Making a malcontented huff of grumpiness, Derek let his hand fall down on Spencer's pillow, "Good morning to you too."

This was the second time Derek's woken up in Spencer's bed to nothing but his own hopes and dreams. Derek flopped back down on his back and stared up at the smooth white ceiling. Christ. Everything smelled of him here. Light pine vanilla. He ran his fingers down the sheets, feeling the familiar threadbare and thinking of the worn flannel and soft cotton of Spencer's clothes. Clothes that Derek could be removing by now, mind you. Derek huffed again. Folding his arms as he glanced over at the door, barely open, covered in aged paint and pulled himself out of bed, letting his bare feet set down on the hardwood. He was kind of cold. Spencer and he had fallen asleep in their underwear. He grabbed his sweats from where they lay hanging off of the side of the bed. Derek smiled to himself as he remembered how they'd gotten there, pushing each other to the limit with teasing touches, deep kisses, and lingering tongues. Spencer wouldn't let them go too far, pushing Derek off of him with loud laughter as Derek placed kiss after kiss to his neck. They never really quit each other that night. Even though they'd slowed it down to light conversation, entwined fingers, and nudging feet; there was always an undertone there. A soft press of lips here, whisper soft fingertips there. That was all well and good last night, but as of now, Derek was chilly as fuck. Christ.

He felt a breeze and a shudder went down his back as he turned, noting the window right at Spencer's barre had been opened, the light fabric of the curtain blowing gently in the morning air. Derek walked around the bed, folding his arms sternly against the chill. Feet cold underfoot, Derek reached out and pulled the window in, shutting it. As the sound of the breeze came to an abrupt stop, it was suddenly much quieter in the room and Derek heard a voice coming from outside the room. Spencer's voice. He was speaking softly to someone in a very quiet voice that Derek has never heard Spencer use before. Derek couldn't make out the words, nor could he hear anyone talking back, but he admits… he got a little curious.

Derek tip toed over to the door, cracking it open a little more, slipping into the hallway to hear Spencer let out a laugh. He was in the kitchen. Spencer said softly into the phone, "What are you talking about? I'm not drinking coffee…" Spencer sipped something. He was definitely drinking coffee, the little liar. Spencer spoke back into the phone, "What? This is tea!" the dancer let out a laugh, "Okay, okay, fine. You got me. But, I promised you that I would start to cut back," he paused and replied in a soft voice, "I made good on it, ma'am. Honest. I'm down to three cups a day."

Spencer shifted against something and the sink started to run. Derek took a couple more steps into the hallway until he reached the end and peeked around the corner. The dancer shut off the sink from where he was sitting on the counter with such a carefree smile on his face, Derek wondered if that was the same man he kissed the night before. Spencer was wearing Derek's loose tee shirt, a pair of grey sweats and a flannel robe left untied and hanging off of his arms. In one hand, he had a hot mug of coffee, and in the other, his phone which he held at his ear. His smile-wrinkled nose held up his horn rimmed glasses as he laughed into the phone, "Hey, that's an effort! You have to admit. How much coffee are you drinking? Hmm?" Spencer waited for the response lightly, taking another sip of coffee as his mismatched socked feet rubbed absently against the lower cabinets as he spoke back, "Of course. I'll believe that when I see it… what was that?" Spencer listened and his face fell, "I… I can't. Not this week. I'm too busy. I'm sorry." Spencer shifted against the counter and said back after a moment, "I sent you some letters though. Did you get them?" Spencer got quiet and suddenly his face broke out in a grin as he laughed, "You found them where?! Oh, so Greg took them—well, I wouldn't go as far as to call him a communist, but assuming your property was to be shared does seem a little Red."

Derek furrowed his eyebrows. Okay… who the hell was he talking too? Because Derek can't follow this conversation at all. It could be a child, but there's an immense level of respect there that children usually don't earn by random adults and anyone at Spencer's age couldn't have fathered anyone that they could hold such a straight conversation with. It could be a friend, maybe. A friend of a younger age. Derek would guess sibling, but once again, there's that layer of respect that Derek doesn't dole out to any of his sisters. Besides, Spencer admitted to being an only child.

He frowned. Derek doesn't like being confused.

"Oh… you are? What is it about?" Spencer spoke out with a small trace of worry in his voice that he concealed very well. Derek glanced back over to him to see that Spencer had set down the coffee and his already wild hair had a free hand in it, mussing it up even further with his little nervous strokes, "Oh! Gervase Markham? Which of his works, ma'am?"

Derek paused. There's that word again. Ma'am. Maybe it's a maternal figure. Grandmother, aunt, female figure. It couldn't be his mother. He told Derek that his mother was sick. Then again, it could have been playfully used. No. Spencer's not one for terms of endearment.

"The Lamentation of Saint John?" Spencer said with a smile, his hand falling from his hair and landing in his lap as he looked down fondly, "I think I'm familiar with it." Spencer's smile grew distant as he repeated a question asked at him, "How?" Spencer forced out, "I… uh. I read it for school."

Spencer was lying. His eyelids squeezed together as he concentrated on the voice on the phone, "Yes, I do remember it… every word actually," he laughed wetly, wiping a hand under his eye roughly as he smiled back, "An overview of the lesson? I'd love nothing more. Do you have your notes with you?" Spencer leaned his head against the cabinet behind him and laughed, "Of course you do. You think I'd expect that of you by now." Spencer paused, "Oh! What does he want?" Spencer's eyes fell, "So soon?" he sighed and nodded, "Yeah, I… I get it. You have to go. Just-" Spencer nodded again, "I will." Spencer let her speak again and answered, "Yes, I do lock my doors at night. And…" Spencer let the woman speak a second time and squeezed his eyelids together once more, "I know. I love you too," Spencer laughed into the phone, "More? You couldn't love me more. I love you the most." Spencer smiled out mirthfully and laughed again, "Oh, no. Don't sing it again," Spencer grinned and pulled a leg up onto the counter, leaning back and hanging on her every word as he listened. He closed his eyes and his lips drew closed to a free, contended smile of adoration as he laid his arm on his leg boyishly. Suddenly, he jerked up, body growing rigid as his eyes opened furiously, "Hey! But—no! Put her back on, I—" Spencer listened with a fist balled up at her side, "I know, but you could have at least let her say goodbye, I-I didn't get to say goodbye!"

Derek watched as Spencer argued on the phone with someone who clearly wasn't the woman he was previously speaking with. Spencer let out harshly, "Well, it wasn't fair to her, okay? We don't get to speak often and she… she needs closure, you know that. I know you know that. Don't even act like you've never—" Spencer clenched his jaw and after a moment of silence, he closed his phone shut. He was hung up on. Well, that wasn't very nice of whomever that was.

Spencer's head fell and he let his fingers close around the phone until it was balled up in his fist. He brought his other leg up and wrapped his arms around it, letting his head fall onto his knees. Spencer grew quiet and his back moved slowly as he inhaled in and out in an even, measured breaths.

Derek took the opportunity to walk out of the hallway, letting his hand knock gently against the wall so that Spencer's head snapped up to see him standing there. Spencer sighed, "… how much did you hear?"

"Enough," Derek answered.

Spencer closed his eyes and ran his hand through his hair, his tell, "Perfect."

Derek asked him hesitantly, "It sounded kind of personal. Do you want me to pretend I didn't hear anything or…"

"I don't know, Derek! I don't! Stop fucking asking me questions! What is this? A Miss America pageant?!" Spencer looked up at him, eyes full of hurt, "I mean, God. Why are you even awake right now?"

Derek whipped back, folding his arms moodily, "Because I wake up when I damn well please. How about you watch your tone, kid?"

Spencer growled, "You're infuriating."

Derek sighed out his frustration, "How, man? All I did was walk in here and you started giving me the third degree. What could I possibly have done wrong?"

Spencer exploded, "Everything! You're doing everything wrong and you need to stop, okay?! You just… you just need to back off!"

Derek gave Spencer a concerned look, "Okay. Deep breaths."

Spencer glared at him over his knees.

Derek glared back, "You calm?"

Spencer huffed.

Derek mediated, "You want to tell me what this is about?"

"Nothing. This isn't about anything. I was simply..." Spencer dropped his forehead back onto his knees, mumbling out, "I was talking to my mom."

Derek asked, "At 6:30 in the morning?"

Spencer rolled his eyes, "She called me, okay? She doesn't do that often and I didn't want to wake you."

Derek asked, "And that translates to anger because…"

"Some asshole doctor snatched her off the phone and hung up on me and now I'm extremely upset and hate everything and I really, really want to rip the faucets off of the sink!" Spencer hissed, glancing up at give Derek a particularly hard glare.

Derek held his hands out, "You might not want to do that. The faucet's connected to a valve and pump that if unhinged incorrectly could spray water at maximum speed right into your face. All that would do is make you madder, and then I'd have to come in and fix the sink and we're back at square one."

Spencer held the angry stare with Derek, "Of course you know how to fix a sink!"

Derek paused, "… so? Big whoop, kid. It's just a sink."

"God! It's not just a sink!" Spencer shook his head and thrust his hand out toward Derek, "It's you! You're the big whoop, Derek!"

"How, Spencer?! Throw me a fucking bone here, I'm trying to understand what you want from me!" Derek started.

"That's just it! You're trying! Stop." Spencer sighed and looked back down at his knees, "Stop helping me. Stop understanding me. Just… stop."

Derek sighed and threw up his arms, "I'm going to need details here, kid. I don't know what you want me to do."

"Fuck off! That's what I want you to do! You just… you," Spencer sniffed and wiped at the frustrated tears coming down his face, "You're too close. You know too much. You always known too much and there's like no way around it. You always end up finding out things about me that I wish you didn't, and... Ethan told me this would happen. He told me you would get too close. He told me that I would push you away and I don't want to do that, because what we have is so good, but I just can't help it. I can feel myself doing it and I just… I wish you would stop."

Derek took a hesitant step toward him, "Stop what, Spencer?"

Spencer breathed into his knees, "Stop getting so close. Stop making us so serious. Stop making this real and stop making me feel like… like this weird-ass thing that we have… could actually last."

Derek made his way into the kitchen, leaning on the table opposite Spencer, "That's because it could. And if that's too much for you and you want me to back off, I can. I'll sleep at my own place more often. Give you more space. Hang out with Pen and Em more. Just say the word and I'll do it, man. I just want you to be happy."

Spencer glanced up at him, "I am happy. I'm just a little teensy bit terrified is all."

Derek gave back a weak smile, "You can't be both, kiddo."

"Well, I am. I want what's going to wound me one day," Spencer sighed, "I want you and I love being with you, but one day, we're going to hurt each other and I can't stand knowing that. I can't put us in that spot by dating you, even though I want to date you so… so bad. I want to throw everything away for you, I want to be the type of man you can lean on. I want to kiss you in public, and make you coffee in the morning, and I… I want you to fix my sink. But, I," Spencer stared back at him with worry in his eyes, "I'm so scared of this all ending that I don't want to start it. Not with you. Because you're one of the first people I've met that could actually manage to break my heart, Derek. I know that. And I'm not going to let it happen. So, excuse me if I keep things to myself."

Derek leaned further against the table and folded his arms, "That's no way to live."

Spencer answered sassily, "Well, it's been working pretty well so far."

Derek scoffed, "Has it?"

Spencer clenched his jaw and pushed himself off of the counter, not even sparing a glance at Derek before grabbing his mug and making his way to the hallway, "I'm not doing this with you, Derek. I'm not having this conversation."

Derek followed him through the hallway and watched as Spencer stopped abruptly. Spencer stayed quiet and Derek pressed himself against Spencer's back, running the side of his hand along Spencer's stubble prickly face and breathing into his soft curls, "Yes, you are. You need to. You can't keep avoiding us. You can't keep acting like you don't see what we have here."

Spencer spoke unflinchingly, "Watch me."

Derek pulled his hands away and replied, "Why won't you let us be happy, Spencer? Why do insist on tearing us apart? Things were going so well."

Spencer answered, "They won't be like this forever."

Derek whispered, "Nothing lasts forever. But right now matters, Spencer. All you have to do is take that leap of faith. That's what love is. Risk. Trust. Two people giving each other a chance. I'm giving you one. All you have to do is say 'yes', and I will do everything I can to make you the happiest man in the world. You just have to trust me."

Spencer's breath hitched and he replied distantly, "I can't do that."

"Then, I can't do this, man. It won't work. I've been trying. And I can't give 100% of my effort into this relationship and watch you give me nothing back. I can't physically do that, man. I can't…" Derek spoke into Spencer's neck, "I can't do this without your trust in me. It's like you don't believe in us at all."

Spencer added, "What do you mean, us? We were never anything but sex partners anyway. There's nothing to work at."

Derek's chest fell. Spencer couldn't have meant that. Yes, that's how it started, but that was definitely not where it ended. They both knew they didn't want what they agreed on. If they were serious about it, they would have had sex ages ago. But, they didn't. They avoided it, spent nights on top of nights together. They lived in this prolonged "boyfriend" stage, sharing clothes and kissing in bathrooms and cuddling in Spencer's bed. If Spencer wanted more—and he wanted more—he wouldn't have ever admitted that their arrangement was null and void from the moment they made it. It was just a personal formality.

Case and point: they fell for each other. Immediately. And what Spencer was doing right now? It was stupid, and it was cruel, and it hurt so much to hear him say it. Throwing them to the dirt, shrinking what they were down to a sleezy sex deal that was never supposed to mean anything, nevertheless come to fruition.

But, they did shake on it.

Derek was near shaking with anger, but he held it together somehow. His hands were balled up in fists at his side as he took a deep breath and exhaled, "You know that you mean more to me than that. I don't just want your body, Spencer. I think you're incredible inside and out. You make me happy. You turn my whole damn day around just by being there, and when we kiss… it's magic. I love falling asleep beside you, and I love your raspy post-coffee voice, and I love how every time you smile, I get so nervous that I feel like I'm going to throw up. I have a thing for you, man, I thought that was obvious."

"Well, I won't allow myself to return that notion," Spencer spat out.

Derek clenched his jaw and hissed, "So, you're saying that you refuse to feel anything for me?"

Spencer answered easily, "Yes."

"What you feel for me is infatuation at best, lust at worst? And you are incapable of trusting me because you're too afraid of falling in love with me?" Derek continued.

Spencer nodded, "Bingo."

"And since you're willing all of your emotions away," Derek felt Spencer tense up as he grabbed his arm, turned him and pushed his spindly formed back against the wall of the hallway. He walked in closer, crowding Spencer's space and looking him dead in the eyes, "This feels like nothing to you then?" Derek pressed his hands low at Spencer's hips, right on the edge of roughly the way Spencer likes it. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Spencer's, initiating a soft, feather light kiss. Spencer's lips stayed unmoving underneath Derek's ministrations, but Derek could feel Spencer's hand clenching into his robe as he held back. Derek continued to kiss him as gently as he could until Spencer growled and grabbed Derek's head, shoving their lips together harder. He threw his little self into this kiss, that kid did.

Spencer's arms threw one arm around Derek's shoulders and his other hand was splayed across Derek's cheek, pushing him closer as their mouths opened against each other. Derek was wrapped in Spencer's strong hands and stubbly cheeks and light pine vanilla scent. His soft lips pressed into his and their tongues caressed as Derek's hands grasped tightly at Spencer's harrow hips. Derek breathed into their kiss, "I'm human and I will let you down, I promise that. But, I can also promise that I will not break your heart. I couldn't. Please, Spencer. Please trust me."

"No," Spencer moaned back, pushing himself even further into Derek's space with a small nibble on Derek's lower lip.

Derek responded, "Please."

Spencer kissed him back harder, "I can't."

Derek pressed his lips into Spencer's once more and whispered, "Jump."

Spencer did so, wrapping his legs around Derek's waist and allowing himself to be pressed against the wall and held up by Derek's stable grip on his thighs. They wrapped their arms around each other and groaned into each other's mouths as their hips ground together and Spencer's back pressed over and over into the cold paint on the wall. Derek took Spencer's glasses off mid-kiss and tossed them in the general region of the couch. Spencer quickly tugged at his robe, letting it fall to the floor as Derek pulled his black tee shirt over Spencer's head and they pressed back into the wall. Lost in the passion of the kiss, Spencer pressed his bare chest into Derek's and ran his hands down his partner's well-sculpted body. Derek tossed Spencer up a bit to force him back into the wall and press greedy kisses to Spencer's neck. Spencer nodded his head and whispered out agreement, his chin raising head bumping against the wall, and hair falling back as he let out an enthused keen. The hallway grew very quiet. The only sounds in the cold, hollowed hallway were of lips against skin, panting breaths, rumpled cloth, and Spencer's back hitting the wall with the force of their clothed rutting.

Before long, Derek and Spencer were making their way to the bedroom. Derek tossed Spencer onto Spencer's bed and climbed over him with swift precision, the two dancers sealed their bodies together as if they were opposite charges of a magnet. They were thrusting against one another in a hurried frenzy, quickly becoming aroused against their passionate pushes. Hands ran down bare chests and tugged, nearly ripping at the remaining clothing on their bodies, until they were stripped bare. Pushing, pushing, pushing. So much skin. So much passion. Heat. Lust, lust, lust. Need it. Want it. Have to have it. Take it, take it, take it all. It's right there.

Spencer's nails ran down Derek's back and his teeth bit into his shoulder. Their legs tangled. They flipped over. Derek was now pressed to the bed as Spencer took control in that underhanded way he does that turns Derek on like nothing else in the world. He tugged at Spencer's hair as they rutted against each other; hard chest against chest, stiff arousal against arousal. Their tongues licked roughly and dominantly into their mouths; lips growing numb and wet with saliva, skin growing damp with sweat.

Derek felt Spencer reach for something that he could see. It sounded like a wooden drawer opening, the night stand probably and Spencer pulled his lips from Derek's quickly. He looked down to Derek with his wide brown eyes. His face was flushed and glowing and his hair was in soft, fuzzy curls around his face as he placed two objects onto Derek's chest. A reasonably sized bottle of lubricant and one condom. Derek peered back into Spencer's eyes and he saw in them what Spencer was shouting at him. Trust. So much trust. But, that wasn't enough. Spencer hadn't said it, and thus, it didn't mean as much.

He took the bottle and condom and placed it at his side, asking his partner, "Are you sure?"

Spencer breathed, "Yes."

Derek asked simply, "Why?"

Spencer panted out, eyelashes wet and lips bitten sore, "Because."

"Spence…" Derek took Spencer's face in his hands and looked him dead in the eyes, "I'm going to need a better answer than that."

Spencer looked back at Derek with an incredulously pressed look on his face, "What do you want me to say to you? 'I trust you, I love you, run away with me, please'?"

"I want you to say what you want to say, not what you think I want to hear," Derek spoke, "Even if we never have sex—fuck, man—even if we never kiss again, I'm still going to be waiting for you to trust me."

Spencer's eyes started to water and he pressed his forehead to his partner's, "Derek, I… just. I can't."

"Then what the hell," Derek sighed dissatisfiedly, "Am I doing in this bed?"

Spencer worried, leaning forward and trying with all of his feeble might to push Derek back onto the sheets as his partner sat up, "Derek, come on. You're not going to leave, are you?"

Derek put his head in his hands, "I… I think I have to. If you're never going to love me and you're never going to trust me, then I'm wasting my time trying to get you to do it. If we go through with this, I'm not going to want to let you go. I can't know what it's like to have you and watch you pull away from me every day because I'm not good enough for you. That? That's what's going to hurt like a bitch."

Spencer's voice wavered from behind him as he spoke up, "You are way past good enough for me, Derek. Daresay, you're perfect. I just… I can't."

Derek leaned over the side of the bed and grabbed his sweatpants, pulling them over his legs. The words stung as he forced them out of his mouth. He couldn't even look Spencer in the eyes as he said it, "Neither can I."

"Are you—Derek, are you leaving me?" Spencer asked softly.

Derek glanced back at the dancer to see him clutching his white sheets around him, large brown eyes stiffly set and filled with the hurt he waiting for. And his face was the worst part. God, his face. It was the scariest thing Derek's ever seen. He remembers making that personal vow to kick the ass of the person who made him look like that. Spencer seemed downright defeated, ruined, ripped apart. He looked as if Derek was pulling his heart out and kicking it against the wall as he watched helplessly from the sidelines. Spencer had been preparing himself for this moment since they'd met and he still wasn't ready. He looked completely caught off guard.

Pulling his pants up his legs, Derek sighed easily, "Man, are you slow? Of course I'm not leaving. I'd never do that to you."

Spencer glanced away for a moment, still partly in shock as he answered, "…oh."

Derek gripped Spencer by the shoulder and looked him in the eyes, "But this thing we have? It's done. It has to be. At least it is for now. Whenever you're ready, I'll be there. Waiting for you with open arms. Just not here. Not in your bed," Derek pressed his hand to the side of Spencer's face, caressing his sturdy jaw, "Or my heart's going to get totaled."

Spencer's face fell, "Why? Why can't we still-"

"Go through the motions of a relationship? Because, that's one thing I can't do," Derek sighed, "I would love to say that I could be fine with having a little piece of you, over none of you at all, but I'm not a liar. Over these past few weeks, I've let you in, Spencer. I've told you things I would never tell another living soul. I depended on you, I leaned on you, I fell in love with you, and I thought that you reciprocated. All that time, I thought you loved me—or that I at least had your trust. But I don't have any of that," Derek hung his head, shaking it slowly, "Do you think you're the only one who can get hurt here?"

Spencer took Derek's hands and pulled them to his bare chest, "But, Derek, I l—"

Derek cut him off, "Do you want to say that? Really?"

Spencer stayed quiet, eyes boring into Derek's as if he could telepathically communicate what he was feeling through stares and glances. But, that's not the way the world works. You can't make someone understand what you're feeling. No matter how hard your eyes shout it, you can't control someone's emotions.

Derek fell in love with Spencer without his permission, and that had serious repercussions. It didn't matter that neither of them saw it coming, and it damn sure didn't matter that their shoddy deal drove them to the sticking place. Spencer controls his heart. And as of now, Derek doesn't have an all-exclusive pass to it. He has VIP status, but that's not enough for him.

Spencer's rejection hurts really badly. After everything they've gone through… he feels led on.

It's like every kiss, every touch, every shared orgasm was a lie—a teaser of what he could have. Now that he knows that Spencer's not planning on giving his heart away any time soon, it all seems kind of pointless. Derek could have sworn that they were in love. Every time Derek came around, Spencer would get that little cheesy smile on his face. Spencer would rest his head on Derek's shoulder, hold him close in his warm cotton sheathed arms, and whisper with those soft lips that he missed him before pressing kisses to Derek's skin. It might be a bit soon, but he couldn't help but to have seen a future with Spencer. A shared loft, joint taxes, kids running around, Clooney huffing and gruffing with sneezes when pine needles fell as they put up the Christmas tree—wait. Spencer is a Christian, right?

Derek sighed in disappointment. He guesses he has a lot to learn about love, even at his age. Maybe one day, he'll grow old just as guarded and scared and alone as Spencer is right now, heart scarred and bruised to the point where it doesn't even resemble one anymore. He prays that doesn't happen to him. Hell, he prays that Spencer's still salvageable. Derek's willing to work on a lot with Spencer, but he's not crazy. He knows impossible when he sees it. The poor guy is smart to back out now before it hurts too badly. Lord help him. If they'd actually slept together by now, Derek would have had so much more to lose.

So, if Spencer can pull his heart out of it, Derek can pull his body.

As he collected himself and stood, he reached forward to give Spencer one last kiss. It started out soft and slow, lips brushing against lips. Then, Spencer grabbed him in, pressing his lips in harder and harder against Derek's. Derek savored Spencer's taste, the warm press of his skin, the softness of his tongue, the coffee on his breath. Even now, he could feel Spencer pulling him down to bed, and no matter how much he had wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to lay down beside him. It would lead to a much harsher break.

This was their last kiss, their last moment of passion before this whole charade stopped. Because, that's all it was, wasn't it? A ruse. A ploy. A deal. Sex, and only sex. No emotions and no boyfriend shit. It was easy as pie and they couldn't even do that. They'd broken every rule for each other, and Derek is sure that they'll do it again. In this small amount of time, he knows for a fact that they're each other's newfound weakness.

Two hearts, dancing on a string—their emotions playing as the puppeteers. Each heart is certain that the other holds a blade, when really… neither does. But, that's the kicker—the laugh—the big joke. They could be so happy, and they're watching it all fall to pieces over something they both could fix with three simple words, and not the ones you'd think: "I trust you".

But, they don't.

Spencer doesn't trust Derek with his heart, and Derek doesn't trust that Spencer will ever let himself love.

Boy, what a tragedy they're in.

It took an eternity, but Derek left as soon as their lips parted. He took his things with him too. He grabbed his shirt off of Spencer's hallway floor and with his duffel, he made his way out of the apartment as Spencer lay there naked, covered in sheets, with his arms wounding about his body to hold himself together. As soon as the apartment door closed behind him, Derek sunk down the wooden frame until he was seated, head thunking against the wood.

He fucked up.

Badly.

And he knows he fucked up.

In less than two hours, he'll have to face Spencer again in the studio. They'll have to get close again as they danced, and that will prove to be a warrior's test. He's in no way ready to give Spencer up. Instantly guilty, he wishes he could run back into that apartment and throw himself into Spencer's bed, giving him everything his partner could ever wish and desire. But, that would be counterproductive. Derek had to make this exact move at some point in their relationship. If not now, then later. Spencer had to love him back, or all of these shared kisses and pillow talks would just be wasted time and effort. Derek was falling harder and harder for Spencer every day, and the longer he waited to be loved in return, the more painful the blow would be every time Spencer says "no", "back off", "we won't last", "I can't trust you."

This was their first real fight and it was sure not going to be the last. But, as of now, it stung like a bitch.

It really, really did.

END

A/N: Hey,

So, that's the end for now. If you want to find out what happens to Derek and Spencer's relationship, see if they win the mirror ball, and follow the madness, know that there will be a sequel coming out on the first Sunday of January called Raising the Barre 2: the Breaking Pointe.

I had to split this work in two because of the great size of it. It's mammoth, I know, and it's only halfway done. So, I figured that my early Christmas gift to you was a painful cliffhanger, because I'm a major bitch that sucks at presents. Just know that the sequel guarantees drama, craziness, and a heck of a lot more dancing. So, join me next month as the plot thickens, hearts are pushed to the limit, and the competition rises to the breaking point.

Thank you for all of your love and support through this journey!

Love,

Blue