Title: Venus Entire
By: Caroline Crane
Pairing: Speed/Tyler
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Just a typical Sunday.

He's sprawled on Tim's couch, flipping through the channels while he waits for the sound of the shower shutting off. And it feels like he belongs here, stretched across the cushions with the remote in one hand and no plans to move any time soon.

He stopped expecting Tim to tell him to get out a couple weeks ago. After the first month he thought maybe that was it, he sensed the tension whenever Tim came into the A/V lab and he thought for sure this was the day Tim was going to tell him it was over. So he waited for the moment he knew was coming, thought up a dozen different arguments for why Tim was wrong and there was no reason they couldn't keep doing what they were doing.

Only that conversation still hasn't happened, and he's starting to think it's not going to. He grins to himself and stops on some cable channel when he realizes they're playing Footloose. The movie's been on for awhile so he's missed most of the beginning, but he's seen it enough times that it doesn't really matter.

He's so caught up in the movie that he forgets to listen for the shower, and he doesn't notice Tim wandering into the living room until he stops next to the couch and looks at the TV screen. "What are you watching?"

"Footloose," Tyler answers, glancing up long enough to grin at Tim's confused expression. "What, you're not a fan?"

"Guess I never really thought about it," Tim says in that voice that means 'no'. He said the same thing the first time Tyler made him sit through Inside the Actors' Studio, though, and he still puts up with it, so Tyler just pats the cushion next to him and waits for Tim to sit down so he can lean in close and breathe in the mingled scents of Tim and shampoo.

"This is the one about…what, dancing or something, right?"

For a second Tyler just looks at him. He wants to ask what exactly Tim did all through high school, if he ever pulled his head out of his science books long enough to notice what was going on around him. But he knows if he asks he'll just get an awkward non-answer, so he swallows the question and turns back to the movie. "It's not just about dancing. It's about fighting the establishment."

Tim lets out a skeptical snort and leans back on the couch, stretching one arm along the cushions. "Fighting the establishment. It's a Kevin Bacon movie."

"Shut up, shut up. This is the best part."

Tyler leans forward as the music swells, swaying unconsciously whenever the dancer on the screen pulls off a really impressive move. And it's not the Russian Ballet or anything, but it's one of his favorite dance sequences anyway. "I never get tired of that," he says when Lori Singer shows up and surprises a panting Kevin Bacon.

"You have a thing for Kevin Bacon?"

Tyler grins at the question because he can tell Tim's trying not to sound too much like a jealous boyfriend. But he doesn't get it, because for Tyler this movie isn't about Kevin or any leftover teenage crush. "That's not Kevin Bacon, that's Peter Tramm."

"Who's Peter Tramm?"

"The dancer in that last scene. He died about ten years ago."

"So you're watching a bad 80s movie for the stunt dancing?"

"It's hard to explain," Tyler says, turning away from the TV long enough to look at Tim. He's never had to explain this before and he's not really sure if Tim will get it, because he's pretty sure Tim's never even considered getting up on a stage, let alone actually tried it.

"Try me." And now he's smirking, like maybe he doesn't believe there could ever be a good reason why anybody would enjoy this movie.

And Tyler doesn't really mind that he thinks it's funny, but he really wants Tim to understand, so he chooses his words carefully before he answers. "The first time I saw this movie I was nine. I'd been taking tap classes since I was six and I loved it, but it was just fun, you know? It didn't really mean anything, I wasn't paying attention to the music or watching professional dancers so I didn't get the big deal my teachers always made about the passion."

He can tell Tim's listening just as carefully as he does when it's about a case or some new development in forensic science or even those surgery shows he watches sometimes, but there's no spark of understanding in his expression. There's no recognition, no moment of comprehension because he finally gets the science behind the theory. Because there isn't any scientific explanation for passion, at least not one that Tyler can come up with.

"Look, do you remember when you wanted to be a doctor? Remember the moment when you read something in a book or heard something in class and you just knew that's what you had to do?"

For a second Tim just stares at him, then he gets that look - the one Tyler still can't define but always leaves a knot of tension in his stomach - and he wishes he hadn't said anything. "I get what you're saying," he finally answers, his voice low enough that Tyler has to lean in to hear him. "Me and med school…it wasn't like that for me, but I get what you mean."

Tyler wants to ask what it was like for him. For the first time since this whole thing started he wants to know enough to risk Tim telling him to get out, not because he expects an answer but because he doesn't want Tim to think he doesn't care. "Is that why you dropped out?"

That's something he always assumed was common knowledge, but Tim looks surprised for a second before he shakes his head. "It's a long story."

They've been dating long enough for Tyler to translate Tim-speak for 'I don't want to talk about it', so he lets it drop and glances at the TV again. "Okay, so maybe it's a little lame that my big defining moment is a scene in Footloose."

Tim laughs at that and it's worth being laughed at just so he can watch Tim relax. "It is…incredibly cheesy."

"It was the 80s. Everything was cheesy," Tyler reminds him, settling a little closer to Tim on the couch. "Don't tell me you had your head stuck in a book and missed the entire decade."

"If this is what I was missing I think I'm okay."

"Come on," Tyler says, but he doesn't try to check his laughter at the skeptical look on Tim's face. "It's not all bad. There's a locker room scene."

"That's not really my thing."

He knows he should have expected that response - this is Tim, after all, but he always thought appreciation of a good locker room scene was kind of universal. "Not your…what is your thing?"

Tim shrugs, and for a second he looks uncomfortable enough that Tyler regrets asking. "I just never really got into the whole jock thing. I wanna be able to have a conversation with a guy, you know?"

"So is that what we're doing here? Conversing?" He grins when Tim raises an eyebrow at him, and a second later he's flat on his back and draped in Tim.

"Among other things," Tim murmurs against his jaw, mouth moving down his neck and Tyler's not going to complain about the fact that he hasn't shaved. It's worth the stubble burn, worth his skin peeling in weird places and maybe another lie at work about sailing and windburn.

Tim presses hot kisses down the side of his neck, and Tyler tilts his head back to give him better access. He catches sight of the TV screen out of the corner of his eye, and he knows his timing is terrible, but he can't help laughing. "God, I forgot about the break dancing."

Tim looks up from his exploration of Tyler's neck long enough to roll his eyes at the prom scene at the end of the movie. "Don't tell me you can do that."

"Of course I can. I'm a professional."

"When were you a professional dancer?"

"Professional dance instructor," Tyler corrects him. "I teach classes for kids in the community center's summer program. Keeps them out of trouble while school's out."

"You teach kids how to break dance." And it's still hard to tell with Tim, but Tyler's pretty sure that he's a little impressed. He's surprised, anyway, and it's kind of nice that he can surprise somebody like Tim.

"I don't teach break dancing. Tap and ballet, mostly. But I still remember how. I was the first kid in White Bear Lake to learn, mostly from watching movies and copying the steps. It's kind of like riding a bike, you know? Once you learn the basics it all comes back to you pretty easily."

"So…how often during the summer do you teach?" Tim asks, and he still sounds kind of impressed, but a little unsure too. It's the closest he's come to implying anything about any kind of future, and Tyler tries not to get his hopes up that it might mean something. It's only February, after all, and the four months between now and when dance classes start again means Tim's still got a long time to change his mind.

"A couple hours a week, usually. One night after work and then another class on the weekend, unless they're short-handed and they need somebody to cover an extra hour somewhere. Why? You interested in signing up? Most of my students are a little younger than you, but I could arrange a few private lessons."

Tim's trying not to smile, but he doesn't quite manage to suppress his grin. "I think I'm gonna pass on that one, thanks."

"You sure? I've been told I'm an excellent teacher."

"Yeah? By who?"

"Well there was that one mom last summer," Tyler answers, and it's a struggle not to laugh at Tim's expression. "But I think she might have been more interested in my other skills, if you know what I mean."

One of Tim's hands slides down his side and up under his shirt, fingers splaying possessively across his stomach. "She must've been disappointed when you turned her down."

"Who says I turned her down?" Tyler says, but his laugh ruins the affect and instead of tensing Tim just rolls his eyes and shifts until he's settled a little more firmly on top of Tyler.

"Don't they frown on that kind of thing at the community center?" He shifts his hips to emphasize exactly what kind of things he's talking about, and Tyler lets out an appreciative 'hmm' and reaches for the remote. He glances at the TV long enough to catch sight of the new movie that just started, and it must be Kevin Bacon day because there he is again. He reaches for the power button but before he manages to switch it off Tim's hand covers his, tugging the remote out of his hand.

"Hey. I like this movie."

"You made fun of me for Footloose but you want to watch Tremors?"

Tim shrugs and sets the remote back on the coffee table before he turns back to Tyler, bracing his free hand on the couch just above Tyler's shoulder. "Well it doesn't make me want to be a seismologist or anything."

"Smartass," Tyler mutters, but he slides his hands around Tim's neck to pull him forward. "I pour my heart out and you make fun of me."

"Sorry." And he doesn't look it, but he's smiling that smile Tyler hardly ever sees, so he doesn't really mind. Then Tim leans forward to kiss him and Tyler forgets about the conversation, forgets the movie and even the fact that Tim's worried about how he'll be spending his time this summer. All he cares about is the hand still under his shirt, the mouth pressed against his and the roughness of Tim's beard against his chin.

Six weeks - forty-two days exactly since that first night, when he asked Tim out and ended the night with Tim in his bed. And he never really planned for that to happen, even after Tim agreed to dinner, but maybe that's the reason everything's been so effortless with them. He never really had any expectations, at least not beyond making Tim see that he wasn't just some lab rat. Not that he's complaining about the way things turned out, because this…this is more than he ever hoped for, but it's exactly what he wants.

It's been a long time since he felt this way about anyone, and even though his first instinct is to lay all his cards on the table, he doesn't really mind taking it slow. He thinks it might even be better this way, because they have a good time just hanging out together and he doesn't want to give that up. He doesn't want to give up the feeling of Tim's mouth pressed against his, Tim's hands on his skin or even the way he looks at Tyler when he thinks nobody can see him. It's been happening more and more lately, followed at first by panic but even that's subsided a little, and Tyler wants it to mean Tim's not spending all his time trying to talk himself out of this.

Right now it doesn't feel much like Tim's fighting what's happening between them, and when Tim growls against his neck and slides a hand between them Tyler lets out a fractured moan. He arches up into the touch, wondering vaguely why they bothered to get dressed at all when it just means layer after frustrating layer of clothes separating them. His fingers close around the bottom of Tim's shirt, tugging until he takes the hint and pushes himself up long enough to let Tyler pull it off.

And that's better, so Tyler pulls his own shirt off while he has the chance and when Tim's fingertips trail down the center of his chest he can't hold back a shudder. Doesn't even want to, because he can tell how much Tim likes the affect he has on Tyler. He thinks Tim might even have a little bit of a voyeuristic streak, because he spends an awful lot of time watching Tyler moan and gasp helplessly underneath him.

Not that Tyler minds, especially when Tim's fingers wrap around him to stroke slowly, exactly the way he likes best. Tim's mouth is on his neck again, rough stubble marking his skin and he knows somebody's going to notice that tomorrow. He can't make himself care, though, not when Tim's hand is moving on him and his mouth is marking a hot, possessive trail along Tyler's collarbone.

They're still half-dressed and he knows he's going to come before he ever gets his pants off, but he doesn't even care about that because they've got the whole day with nothing to do but…this. This slow, rhythmic movement, Tim's hips rocking against him and Tyler's hands slide down his back to grip his ass, urging him closer. He wonders if he can make Tim come in his pants, if he could get Tim off without ever touching him. And part of him wants to find out, but there's another part of him that likes the weight of Tim's cock in his hand, in his mouth and especially inside him.

Just the thought makes him groan and shift his legs a little further apart, trapping Tim's hand between them as he slides a hand into Tim's hair to pull his mouth away from Tyler's neck. He wants Tim to fuck him, but the condoms are in the bathroom and he doesn't want to let Tim up long enough to go get them. He can't decide what he wants - everything at once, whatever Tim wants to offer - but as soon as he thinks it Tim's pushing himself up on his knees, taking hold of the sweatpants Tyler's wearing and tugging them down over his hips.

And he's never been so glad he didn't bother with a pair of boxers in his life, because it's one less barrier in their way and when Tim sucks in a sharp breath and pushes his knees toward his chest Tyler vows never to wear underwear again. Not if it gets him this reaction - Tim's hot breath against the tip of his cock, tongue sliding down his length and past his balls to press inside him. His back arches into the sensation, fingers digging into the fabric of Tim's couch and he can feel the pressure building at the pit of his stomach just from this.

He can't stop himself from reaching down to stroke his cock, rocking between Tim's mouth and his hand and there's no way he's going to last. By the time Tim pulls away he's panting and babbling incoherently - at least he hopes it's incoherent, because he doesn't trust himself not to say things he shouldn't when Tim's touching him - and when Tim pushes his hand away to close a hot mouth around his cock Tyler gives up on any hope of control.

One hand pushes through Tim's hair, still damp from the shower and clinging to his forehead, the other gripping the couch hard as he thrusts shallowly into Tim's mouth, fighting the urge to push too hard and choke him. And he doesn't really want to know who taught Tim to do this, but he's good at it and before long Tyler's moaning and arching up one last time to come in Tim's mouth.

In a perfect world Tim would spit into his hand and slide it over his own still-hard cock, then slide inside Tyler without even a pause to let Tyler catch his breath. But Tim's way too careful for that, and Tyler's not surprised to feel Tim reach over him for a Kleenex to spit into before he kisses Tyler again. He's still wearing his pants and that seems wrong somehow, but Tyler manages after a false start or two to get them open far enough to slide a hand inside.

When Tim's eyes slide closed Tyler can understand why he likes to watch so much, because it's a turn-on just to see him flushed and thrusting helplessly into Tyler's grip. And a hand job isn't really what Tyler had in mind, but he reminds himself that they've got all day. All day, and he knows he should be used to spending whole weekends together by now, but it's still sort of new and he keeps expecting to wake up any second and find that the whole thing's been one long, crazy dream.

He opens his mouth on Tim's neck right where it meets his shoulder, below his collar so no one will see when Tyler marks him. He feathers hot kisses along the line of Tim's shoulder, murmuring 'love you' against warm skin so Tim won't hear it. And maybe someday he'll even work up the courage to say it out loud, but for now it's enough to whisper it against Tim's shoulder, to know he means it and know that Tim can feel it even if he's not ready to hear it.

Wet heat hits his stomach a second after Tim tenses, and he presses soothing kisses to sweat-slick skin as Tim struggles to catch his breath. The movie's still playing in the background, and when Tim finally pushes himself up onto one elbow and glances at the screen Tyler can't help laughing. "What, am I keeping you from the movie?"

"This is the best part," Tim says, but he laughs and lets Tyler pull him back down again, pressing their lips together for a hard kiss.