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Spencer looked good under the flashing lights. Not necessarily as though he belonged, because he was visibly nervous, his grip on Derek’s hand tight enough to be uncomfortable, but he looked good because he seemed giddy. A spark in his eyes which Derek hadn’t really seen before, especially not in regards to this, something that still made him shut down before he realized he wasn’t being judged.
The Feather was jam-packed. A Saturday, which had been absolutely freezing and miserable, prompting desperate people to seek fun after dark, and boy did they sound like they were having fun. Now that Derek was here off the clock he felt much more relaxed, and so he was taking it all in differently. Not seeking, simply watching, though he was mostly watching Spencer. While Spencer was obviously still a bit on edge it wasn’t as bad as their first couple of visits. He wasn’t alone with his feelings anymore, his shoulders lighter. His eyes were everywhere, head going back and forth, his cheeks pinkening as the ticklish laughter surrounded them.
Derek leaned closer to him to be heard over the music. “We can stay as long as you want, which also means we can leave whenever, okay?”
Spencer nodded. “Okay.”
“I mean it, pretty boy. The minute you want to leave, we leave.”
Spencer squeezed his hand. “I hear you.”
“Good.” Derek squeezed back, wondering if the visit would include him tickling Spencer at all or if they would be saving it until later, behind the four walls of a bedroom. He’d just started doing it, tickling Spencer until he was a giggly mess, without it ending with Derek having to reassure him that he loved that this was something he wanted him to do. Not that he minded it, but he was glad it was becoming easier now. He quite enjoyed himself doing it.
They’d decided to come back to The Feather because Derek found it unfair that Spencer had had his eye on this club for ages before he’d been forced to visit it due to a case, but what Derek hadn’t told him was that he was equally as curious to return. Curious about it all, curious about what would catch Spencer’s eye, about how he would react. Spencer could probably feel his gaze on him, and while he might’ve felt self conscious about it he seemed entirely too preoccupied to say anything about it.
“Oh, look, I did that to you last night.” Derek didn’t mean for it to sound as any form of teasing - he genuinely felt a surge of excitement as he caught sight of a woman trying to twist out of the grip of another woman who was targeting her hips - but Spencer covered his face in embarrassment anyway. Maybe Derek wasn’t too mad about it.
“I think this might end me,” he said, peeking out when Derek nudged him.
Spencer didn’t know this, but Derek hadn’t been able to stop thinking of this, this moment, the things Spencer had told him, for the past few days. He’d imagined them entering. Imagined Spencer being grabbed left and right by unknown, eager hands. He’d imagined being jealous, but there had been something appealing about the sight, too. Sensual, almost. Of course that didn’t end up happening, because these people valued consent more than anything. And besides, Spencer didn’t want to come here to get tickled by others. He’d told him that countless times.
“I want to experience it normally,” he’d said. “Remove the case from it.”
And Derek, who had thought of the case nearly every single day since it had happened, had understood what he meant.
They hadn’t talked about what they expected out of this experience. Spencer had seemed too anxious and excited and shy all at the same time for Derek to want to ask. He couldn’t imagine he wanted strangers to touch him anyway, besides his protests, but if he did, in the midst of drunken giddiness to finally be able to be himself, non-judged, Derek needed to quickly decide how he felt about it, because who was he to deny Spencer this if he wanted it?
But who was he kidding. He didn’t like the idea of that at all.
“Quick question,” he said as they elbowed their way deeper into the room, aiming to take a lap before ordering drinks. “I know you said you don’t want to, but if someone grabs for you, am I supposed to protect you?”
“If someone- grabs for me?”
“You know. Pulls you into a tickle fight.”
“Oh. Well, I doubt anyone would.”
“Right, but if.”
“Sure, yeah, protect me. I don’t think I’d like that.”
“I don’t think I’d like that either.”
Spencer grinned, the last bit of anxiety falling off his face. “You’d be jealous.”
“I so wouldn’t.”
“Uh huh.”
Derek liked the fact that Spencer was smiling too much to get all in his feelings about this, and so he merely pulled him closer with the pretense of pulling him with him. He wasn’t stupid enough to think Spencer believed that that was his intention, but it made him feel better to pretend. They’d not reached the stage where honesty overpowered anything else yet. They still had walls, although they’d broken down several of them pre-relationship, if that was what they had. They’d not talked about it.
Derek was absolutely terrified to talk about it, truth be told.
“You think we can just- go in?” he asked as they stopped in front of a door labeled “bondage room”.
Spencer shook his head. “We shouldn’t either way. I wouldn’t want to have people see that.”
“That’s fair.” Memories of the case flashed before him. The idea of Spencer tied up, helpless. The thing he desired being used against him.
A hand on his wrist, squeezing it. “I’m okay, Derek.”
Derek knew he wasn’t, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he slipped his hand into Spencer’s, squeezing it back. “Let’s get something to drink, okay?”
Spencer nodded and they made their way through the crowd hand in hand, something Derek still wasn’t used to.
“Do you want a Tickle Me Drink or a Blushy Lee Bourbon?” Derek asked him as they sat down by the bar, reading off the menu on the wall. When he turned back to him Spencer was blushing, although he didn’t avert his gaze, and Derek suddenly felt as if he would explode.
“Not a fan of bourbon,” was all he said, glancing down up the drinks list. “How about a Pick Your Spot Pina Colada?”
“You got it, pretty boy.”
Derek wanted to tease him about picking a drink without a name which he would have a hard time saying out loud, but he didn’t. Instead he leaned over toward the bartender - not the bastard from the case - and ordered for them both. Derek picked the Cosmotickleton, grinning when Spencer squirmed beside him.
“So,” he said as the bartender went away to start on their drinks. “How are you feeling so far?”
Spencer shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
“I’m sure it’s a lot to take in after everything.” Derek leaned closer, a finger on Spencer’s arm. “How ‘bout you tell me what you’re liking?”
Spencer shivered, subtly, but Derek could feel it. “About the club?”
“Uh huh.”
“I like how accepting it is.” His answer came quickly and easily. “It’s loud and overstimulating, but- well, I’ve never felt safe in a club before, you know?”
Derek wanted to ask more. Wanted to hear him talk about the particular tickle scenarios that were happening all around him, but realized Spencer wasn’t here for that. Realized there was more to it than the exposure to the tickling itself. Maybe one day Derek would understand. He was happy to wait, happy to explore, happy to solve parts of the puzzle himself until that day.
They got their drinks, clinked their glasses together and watched the dance floor. Watched people kiss and grind and tickle and jump. And later, they danced - Spencer was a hip swinger much to Derek’s delight - and as they pressed close, and with Spencer’s permission, he pressed his fingers into his sides, making him swing in a different way. And even later, when they stumbled into Derek’s apartment because it was closer, Derek kissed him for several minutes before he went for his ribs, but only because Spencer had grown impatient.