Title: Reverence
By: Caroline Crane
Pairing: Speed/Tyler
Rating: PG
Summary: Futurefic for the Speed/Tyler universe. There are some things they still don't talk about.

It's days like these when he wonders why he bothers. Days when he's tempted to get on his bike, find a deserted highway and tempt fate for awhile. No helmet, no leathers, just the wind rushing past him and his mortality up for grabs.

He knows how melodramatic that sounds, but there are times when he surprises even himself with his maudlin flair for drama. Tyler would be shocked, he muses as he lets himself into the apartment, the weight of the key still heavy in his hand even after all this time. He wonders if that will ever wear off -- has a feeling it won't and doesn't really mind, because he never wants to take this for granted.

Another sentiment that would surprise Tyler if Speed ever said it out loud, but there are a lot of things he doesn't say out loud and this is just another one to file away under 'things we don't talk about'. Because he's in love and Tyler knows that much, and he's pretty sure that's enough.

He finds Tyler in the living room, page after glossy page spread out in front of him on the coffee table. "Hey," he says when Speed walks in, glancing up long enough to catch sight of Speed's expression. Instantly that sunny smile fades, dimple gone and Speed wishes he was better at hiding his emotions. "What happened?"

"Nothing. Nothing important," Speed clarifies, dropping onto the couch next to Tyler. "This woman...I couldn't stand her from the second I laid eyes on her. We proved she murdered a guy she didn't even know and the D.A. won't prosecute."

"So she just walks." It's a statement, not a question, not even shock or disgust. Just another part of their jobs, the frustration that goes along with proving there's been a crime and running into a stone wall of politics and red tape.

Before Tyler Speed would have spent a few hours driving aimlessly, would have ended up somewhere desolate and probably dangerous, testing that death wish his parents accused him of having the last time he went home. It's not the whole reason he doesn't go back there anymore, but he knows they'll never understand so there's no point trying to explain it to them. It's easier to stay away, easier to live his life on his terms and not worry about whether or not he's disappointing anyone.

"Yeah," he finally answers, doing his best to shake off the mood he knows Tyler still doesn't understand completely. "What are you doing?"

He gestures toward the brochures and Tyler's smile resurfaces, tugging hard at Speed's heart and just for a second he wishes he'd taken the bike out after all, because it's been a long day already and he's not sure he can hold back some of the things he never says. A hand slides across his knee as Tyler leans into him, reaching past him to pick up the most colorful of the brochures littered across the table.

"Got a call from a friend, she runs a little community theater for kids. It's non-profit, but she's pretty good at bullying businesses into donating to the cause. These are brochures from the shows they put on last season. She wants me to help her out this year."

He's seen Tyler with kids exactly once. He was a little early getting to the community center to pick Tyler up after one of his classes, and the heat was stifling so he'd gone inside to wait. The large room where Tyler held his classes was right off the main entrance, the door open and kids in leotards wandering the hall in search of parents. And he wasn't really looking, but his gaze was drawn to Tyler almost immediately anyway, standing in the center of the room in sweatpants and a tank top, surrounded by kids all clamoring for his attention.

The only time Speed had ever seen Tyler smile like that was when he was smiling at Speed, and just for a second he was gripped by an irrational surge of jealousy. It was stupid and he shook it off almost right away, because there was no way he was going to be jealous of a bunch of little kids who got an hour a week of Tyler's time three months out of the year. But once he got past feeling like an idiot for being jealous of a bunch of kids it was hard not to notice just how comfortable Tyler looked with them, how happy...like he was in his element. Like this was what he should be doing for a living instead of analyzing surveillance videos.

"Yeah?" Speed says, forcing his attention to the brochure Tyler's holding in front of him. "What does she want you to do?"

"The theater's gotten pretty big, more kids than she can handle, I guess," Tyler answers, and God, he glows when he talks about this stuff. Speed's never understood that kind of passion and he's pretty sure he never will, but he knows it looks really good on Tyler. "She's splitting them up into age groups this year and she needs somebody to help with the younger ones. You know, the ones who are too little to memorize a lot of lines. We're going to modify some shows, make them over into more of a dance recital than an actual stage play."

"Sounds like a lot of work," Speed says, and he hopes he doesn't sound as bitter as he thinks he does. It's not that he begrudges Tyler the time to do the stuff he loves – not much, anyway – but it's another part of Tyler's world that Speed has nothing to do with.

"You could help, you know."

And it's not the first time he's wondered if Tyler can read his mind, but it still throws him a little. "Me and kids don't really mesh."

"You don't give yourself enough credit. Kids are just little adults. Besides, you don't have to be up on stage with them. Sandra needs a lot of help building sets and making sure everything's running right backstage. You're good with your hands, that I can vouch for personally."

He can't help smiling at the compliment even though he's pretty sure Tyler's just flattering him to get his way, and when Tyler's hand finds his he doesn't have to think about it before he threads their fingers together. "You're really crazy about kids, aren't you?"

"Well it's not like I'm thinking about running out and getting one of my own any time soon," Tyler says, but even though he's still smiling Speed can see the wistfulness behind it. "But yeah, I'd rather teach kids than adults. Kids are more open, you know? They haven't had time to decide that they know it all."

Speed nods, but he's not really listening anymore because his heart's racing and his mind's still stuck back on the words 'any time soon'. Meaning that Tyler's thought about it, and maybe he does see a future with a kid in it somewhere down the road. It's one of those things they don't talk about, just like they don't talk about what happens next year or even six months from now. The closest they've come to talking about the future is moving in together, and that conversation consisted of something along the lines of 'why are we paying rent on two places?' It was a practical decision, one that made sense at the time. Just like it's practical for Speed to think about maybe looking for a house with a bigger kitchen when their lease expires, because his kitchen was fine when it was just him, but now that there are two of them they need more room than an apartment can offer.

A kid, though...that's not practical. And it's not that he doesn't like kids – he just doesn't know what to do with them. He doesn't know how to talk to them or make them feel better when they're scared, he doesn't know what they like to eat or how to take care of them when they're sick. He should know all those things, because he was old enough to help out when his brother was born, but his parents never asked him to. They didn't want to force that responsibility on him when he was still a kid himself, and by the time he was old enough for the responsibility they didn't really seem to notice he was around.

"Hey."

The hand in his tightens just enough to get his attention, and when Speed forces himself to look at Tyler he knows he's not doing a very good job of hiding his panic. "You don't have to sign a contract or anything. Just come by the theater with me this weekend, take a look around. If you want to help out you can, and if not that's okay."

He knows what Tyler's not saying – it scares him sometimes how well Tyler can read him, almost as much as the thought of having a kid around scares him. There's a weight pressing down on his chest and he's pretty sure it's got a lot to do with the thumb stroking across the back of his hand. He hates himself for taking the out, for letting Tyler let him off the hook when he doesn't have to. He hates himself even more for wishing suddenly that he was out somewhere taking turns way too fast on his bike, but he's not, and that's something.

"Yeah, sure," he answers, forcing what he knows isn't even close to a convincing smile. "But I've gotta warn you, I'm better at cars than I am with a hammer."

Tyler smiles just for him this time, and Speed's heart skips a beat. And he's pathetic, but when Tyler looks at him like that he almost doesn't mind. "You never know, that might come in handy. Maybe I can talk Sandra into doing the musical version of Christine."

"There's a musical version of Christine?"

And now Tyler's laughing at him, the sound vibrating against Speed's mouth when he pulls the other man closer and presses their lips together.

"Do you want to talk about work?" Tyler asks when Speed lets him up for air, and it takes a few seconds for Speed to remember what he means.

"No," he answers, honestly for once because he hasn't thought about that woman since Tyler started talking about his latest project, and he doesn't really want to think about her anymore tonight. He knows tomorrow it'll eat away at him again, when he's back at the lab and mired in all the things people do to each other, but for now they're together and they're alone and all he wants to think about is this.