Title: Piquant
By: Caroline Crane
Pairing: Speed/Tyler
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Cooking lessons.

He's never taught anybody to cook before. He's never even thought about it - it's just something he's always done, ever since he was old enough to hang out at his dad's restaurant. But Tyler asked, and Speed said yes without even thinking about it. It's not like he doesn't cook at Tyler's place anyway - and okay, maybe he kind of likes it when Tyler hangs around the kitchen and watches him.

Another thing he's never really thought about before, but he kind of likes Tyler's running commentary on whatever's on his mind. Sometimes it's work, sometimes it's a story about his family, and other times he just asks Speed questions about what ingredients he's using and why they go together.

It should be annoying. Speed's never been big on small talk, so he can't explain why he likes listening to Tyler. He can't explain why he keeps answering question after question without ever losing his temper, why he laughs at all of Tyler's stupid jokes or why he gets a little thrill out of wrapping his arms around Tyler to show him the right way to dice peppers. And he has a feeling that Tyler's pretending to know less than he does, but he doesn't even mind that because it gives him an excuse to keep touching.

"No, you're…here," he says, frowning at the mess Tyler's making of the tomatoes Speed put in his fridge a few days ago. He pretends not to notice Tyler's smile when Speed's hand closes over his, guiding him - again - through the perfect dicing technique. "You need better knives."

"Are you kidding? I didn't even know I had these," Tyler says, laughing when Speed shakes his head. They're pressed close together - it can't really be helped considering the size of the kitchen - and Tyler's warm against his chest, making Speed think about things that don't have much to do with cooking.

"You must have bought them at some point."

"I don't think I did," Tyler answers, looking down at the knife in question when Speed lets go of his hand. "My mom might have bought these when I moved into my first place. Or maybe an ex left them, I'm not really sure. All I know is I've never actually used them."

Speed clamps down hard on the urge to ask if Tyler's ever cooked with anybody else, because it's stupid to be jealous of some guy who's long gone. It's just as stupid as being jealous of the way Tyler flirts with Calleigh. He winces at the thought and pulls away, pretending to hunt for spices in Tyler's pathetic collection until the irrational surge of jealousy subsides. The garlic powder he finds looks older than him, but Speed didn't pick any up when he was stocking Tyler's kitchen so he doesn't have much choice.

He told himself at the time that he wasn't really stocking Tyler's kitchen. Picking up a few things isn't the same as actual shopping, and if Tyler wants to learn to cook they need more than a box of spaghetti and a few cans of vegetables. "Well you need new knives," Speed says when he turns back to the stove, "and a stock pot wouldn't hurt either."

"This isn't a stock pot?" Tyler asks, gesturing in the direction of the stove, and this time Speed's pretty sure he's not faking it for Speed's benefit.

"That's a Dutch oven." Speed adds the garlic powder and then reaches around Tyler for the vegetables, dropping them in with the rest of the ingredients.

"Dutch oven, got it," Tyler says, and Speed turns his head to hide a smile because he's pretty sure Tyler's making fun of him.

"Look, you said you wanted…"

"I do," Tyler interrupts, hand on Speed's arm to pull him away from the stove. "I like this part best, though."

He pulls Speed's arm around his waist and leans in to press their lips together, one hand in Speed's hair to tilt his head just so. And Speed would never admit it, but this is the reason he agreed to cooking lessons in the first place. He knows he doesn't really need an excuse, but it's nice to have one, even if it's just so he won't feel like this is something he can't just walk away from. Only he doesn't want to walk away, not really - not when they're like this, when they're alone and he can forget about work and all the people who might not approve.

"So what's next?" Tyler asks when they come up for air, and it takes Speed a few seconds to remember what he's talking about.

"It…uh…it has to simmer for awhile."

"How long?"

"The longer it cooks the better it tastes," Speed answers. "As long as it doesn’t burn."

"My kind of recipe."

Tyler grins and closes his fist around the front of Speed's shirt, and Speed lets him steer them toward the living room. He expects Tyler to stop at the couch, but they pass it by and keep going, down a short hallway to the bedroom. Speed lets himself be pulled down onto the bed, arms spread at his sides as Tyler sets to work on his buttons. He wants to touch, but he doesn't want to get in the way, so he waits until Tyler pushes his shirt open before he reaches up to run his hands along deceptively strong arms.

"You're supposed to keep an eye on it," he says, although the last thing he wants to do is get up and go back to the kitchen. "The chili, I mean."

"It'll be fine." Tyler leans in to press a kiss to the corner of Speed's mouth, then another against his jaw. "Don't worry about it."

Another kiss, on his neck this time right above the mark Tyler left on him just last night. He swallows a groan and slides his hands around to Tyler's back, edging his shirt up just enough to reveal a few inches of bare skin. And he knows he should argue, but he doesn't want to. What he wants to do is stay right where he is, with Tyler's mouth moving on him and his hands warm on Speed's chest.

He shifts just a little, hands flat against the small of Tyler's back to press them even closer together. Tyler lets out a low 'mmm' against his neck, and the sound vibrates through Speed's body all the way to the roots of his hair. And he…wants, but he doesn't know how to ask for something he can't put a name to. Not sure he'd ask even if he had the words, because that would be too much like admitting that he feels something. Something for Tyler, and that's dangerous because he knows how easy it would be.

Taking he can do, though - taking he's good at, because it doesn't require any words and when he flips them over so Tyler's pinned underneath him he feels a little more in control. He takes a few seconds just to look, to watch Tyler watching him, waiting for whatever he's going to do next. And it's a rush, knowing that Tyler wants him enough just to go with it, but it's more than a little unnerving because he's not sure he can live up to that kind of trust.

He pulls back long enough to tug his shirt off the rest of the way, letting it fall to the floor before he turns his attention to Tyler's clothes. "Why do you wear this stuff?" he asks, running one hand down the buttons on Tyler's oversized, obnoxiously patterned shirt.

"What, you don't like it?" Tyler asks, and if he's pretending to be insulted the grin ruins the affect.

"It's not that, it's just…" Speed trails off, suddenly wishing he hadn't said anything because he's about as good at compliments as he is at flirting. But they're both adults, and he should have left the awkwardness behind when he was a kid, so he forces out the rest of the words. "You're in great shape, why do you hide it?"

"Thanks," Tyler says, grinning unrepentantly now and Speed's pretty sure he's going to regret saying anything. "You know, you're not so bad yourself."

Speed avoids having to answer by focusing on Tyler's buttons, fingers exploring each new inch of skin he exposes until finally Tyler's naked from the waist up. And that's a definite improvement, so Speed reaches for the button on his pants next, working his zipper down with sure fingers and sliding a hand inside. Tyler gasps and arches up when Speed's hand wraps around his cock, and this…this is what Speed likes best, the way Tyler responds to him without even a hint of self-consciousness.

He's never made it a secret that he wants Speed - not since all this started, anyway - and it's not the hottest thing about Tyler, but it's way up there. Sometimes it makes Speed feel like he doesn't really deserve someone so…open, but most of the time he just counts himself lucky that he was in the right place when Tyler finally decided to say something.

Speed's thought about asking why Tyler waited so long, how long he's been thinking about it and what made him decide to come on to Speed at the Christmas party, of all places. That's not a conversation he's sure he ever wants to have, though, because it means skirting a few topics he doesn't want to deal with, so he just chalks it up to opportunity whenever he finds himself thinking about it.

"God, Tim…" Tyler moans, and Speed knows if he doesn't stop soon it'll be too late, so he pulls his hand away and ignores Tyler's disappointed groan while he pulls the rest of their clothes off.

He pauses long enough to reach for the condoms, sending up a quick thanks to whoever might be listening that he didn't get around to putting them back in the bathroom before they left for work. Because the last thing he wants to do is get out of bed, not when Tyler's panting and flushed and stroking a hand along Speed's thigh. A few seconds later and he's kneeling between Tyler's legs, hands on Tyler's knees to push them up toward his chest.

He slides inside in one smooth stroke, and when Tyler's legs wrap around his waist and pull him in even further he can't hold back a gasp. You're amazing, he thinks, and it's a struggle to stop himself from saying it out loud. He bites back the words and starts moving, one hand braced against the mattress and the other finding Tyler's, fingers fitted together and God, this will be the death of him. There's no way he can keep this up, because it gets harder and harder every time to keep himself from saying all the things that run through his mind whenever they're alone together.

For the moment he solves the problem by leaning in for a kiss, tongue thrusting in and out of Tyler's mouth in time with his cock. And if he could just find a way to make this last forever he wouldn't have to worry, because they'd never have to go back to their real lives and he wouldn't have to care what anybody thought. He wouldn't have to worry about Tyler's reaction to all those things he doesn't say - he wouldn't have to worry about anything except this feeling, like burning up from the inside out until finally he can't stand it anymore.

And he knows it can't last forever, but that doesn't stop him from regretting it a little when he just has to come or explode from the intensity of it. He thrusts one last time deep inside Tyler, grunting with the effort and when Tyler gasps and flexes around him he lets go of his last shred of control. The last shudder hasn't even passed through him before he wants to do it all over again, just so he won't have to think about all those things that go through his mind whenever they do this.

But Tyler's still hard, moving under Speed and he pushes himself up with an effort and closes his hand around the other man's cock, stroking the way he knows Tyler likes best until Tyler tenses under him and wet heat hits Speed's fingers. He closes his eyes against the muscles tightening on his slowly softening cock, waiting until Tyler relaxes back against the mattress before he pulls out.

And he knows he should get up and take the condom off, wash up a little and go check on dinner before it starts a fire or something. He gets as far as rolling onto his back before he gives up, closing his eyes against a wave of exhaustion. And maybe he's more tired than he thought after all, because his eyelids are heavy and it's an effort to open them when he feels the mattress shift.

He starts to push himself up when Tyler reaches down to ease the condom off, but as soon as he moves a hand lands in the center of his chest and pushes him back down. "Stay."

Speed thinks about arguing, but Tyler looks pretty pleased with himself and his bed is really comfortable, so instead Speed closes his eyes again and lets Tyler kiss him before he climbs off the bed. He's not sure how long Tyler's gone - just a few minutes, probably, but when the mattress dips again Speed starts awake. He shakes off the heaviness of sleep as Tyler reaches over him, and he lifts a hand to brush his fingers across pale skin as Tyler picks up something off the nightstand and straightens up again.

"Dinner is served," Tyler announces, sounding pretty pleased with himself as he nudges Speed into a semi-sitting position and then hands him a bowl of what smells like unburned chili.

For a few seconds he tries to remember the last time someone brought him dinner in bed, but when his stomach growls he decides it doesn't matter. And he didn't realize how hungry he was, but the chili smells good and he's pretty sure he skipped lunch today, so he doesn't waste any more time before he digs in.

"Not bad," he says around his first mouthful, swallowing before he glances over at Tyler.

"Yeah? Let me try," Tyler says, grinning as he leans in and presses their lips together. He coaxes Speed's mouth open with his tongue, and by the time he pulls away again Speed's not really thinking about food anymore.

"Mmm," he murmurs, reaching up to wipe at the corner of his mouth before he reaches across the other side of the bed for his own bowl. "Not bad for a first try."

Speed rolls his eyes but doesn't bother pointing out that Tyler had a little help. He definitely doesn't have any problems with his self-esteem, but he manages somehow to make even that look charming. Instead Speed leans back against the headboard and focuses on his dinner as Tyler launches into a commentary about his first cooking lesson. And he gets the feeling there are more lessons in their future, but he's not planning menus while he half-listens to Tyler talk. He's not thinking about all the staples Tyler still doesn't have, just like he's not thinking about dragging Tyler with him the next time he goes shopping.