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Sunshine in January

Title: Sunshine in January
Series: The Best Moves
Disclaimer: Wholly original work.
Characters/Pairings: Tracey/Timothy
Rating: MA
Summary: Sometimes good friends are worse than competent enemies.
Notes: Hey Sprink, remember when we were discussing what kind of underwear everyone wears? Timothy doesn't seem to be wearing any.

Tracey could only stare as Matthew and Tyler reached into their lockers simultaneously, each pulling out a pair of nearly-black sunglasses.

"Got yours?" Tyler asked, grinning as he secured his onto his head, pushing them up at the nose with his middle finger.

"You've got to be kidding me," Tracey replied, shaking his head. "It's only sunshine."

"Evil sunshine," Matthew countered, looking downright ridiculous as he slid his own pair on. In the dim light of the employee locker area, Tracey was amazed either could see anything besides darkness.

"Let him learn for himself, grasshopper," Tyler said quickly, grabbing his coat from where it hung, surrounded by those of the day salesfloor crew. They were all back on dayshift, ready to charge the sun in its blinding glory.

Or so Tyler would claim.

Tracey shrugged on his own jacket, many more things on his mind than sunshine. Today would be the day that Timothy would finally quit with the endless teasing and give himself over. And while only a few months before, Tracey would have thought setting a date for something like that was a stupid idea, actually having a goal made the entire process more... exciting.

"Planet Terra to Tracey..."

Tracey blinked, wondering for just a moment why Matthew was about to smack him upside the head. He hadn't zoned that far out, had he?

He had.

"Sorry..." Tracey mumbled, realizing Tyler was already halfway down the stairs and peering upward, looking all the more ridiculous in his dark glasses now that he had his long, black leather trenchcoat on. Without his flame-red hair, Tyler might have passed for a rockstar or actor, but instead he just looked out of place.

"You have a good enough reason to be spaced," Matthew replied, smiling. "After all, while Tyler and I are snoozing away to Suikoden 3, you're going to be..."

"Are you two coming?" Tyler called up the stairs, interrupting at what Tracey thought to be a rather thankful time.

"Tracey will be," Matthew shot back, rushing towards the stairs before Tracey quite comprehended what had just been said. Sometimes good friends were worse than competent enemies.

"I cannot believe you just said that," Tracey muttered a moment later as he followed Matthew down the stairs. Thankfully most everyone else had already left and no one was around to hear any of their conversation.

"Just being honest," Matthew said as he caught up to Tyler near the front doors. Tracey couldn't help a sigh as he saw his work-partner Tessa standing there, black sunglasses adorning her head as well, barely visible under a series of scarves and wraps. If she really was a vampire, Tracey thought, the transition from nights to days did have to be rough. He didn't know her age, but he hoped she was at least old enough to be able to withstand a little sunlight.

And then he spaced out again, wondering when he had finally been suckered in by Tessa's vampiric claims. His work-family was a strange lot, yes, but he couldn't help but care about them.

"Bonsoir," Tessa called, waving a leather-clad hand in Tracey's direction. "Or, should I say, I hope you have one!"

Tracey could only vaguely remember mentioning that he might potentially get some action. Somehow his business had truly become everyone's business.

"What did she say?" Tyler asked a moment later, his hand on the door.

"Good evening," Matthew translated. "Didn't you ever take French?"

"Nope. I took Al Bhed and whateverthefuck they speak on Dinosaur Planet," Tyler replied, smirking. "So are we ready?"

"Must. Not. Be. Pervy," Matthew said, trying not to laugh.

Tracey sighed again. "Ready as I'll ever be."

"I meant for the sunshine," Tyler shot back. "The rest borders on things I never wish to think about."

Yes, good friends were all the more dangerous.

Tracey found himself temporarily blinded, finally bringing an arm up to shield his eyes from the sun that glinted off the freshly fallen pure white snow that covered most of the parking lot. After months of leaving in the dark, this was unexpected.

An arm grabbed him, steering him for a moment.

"No falling off the curb for you..."

Squinting, Tracey realizing Matthew had a hold of him and wasn't about to let go. Smirking beneath his dark glasses, Matthew didn't say another word until they got over to the employee parking lot.

"I didn't think it would be so bright," Tracey finally said, digging for his car keys. Thankfully he knew he had a cheap pair of sunglasses somewhere in his car.

"Ah, other grasshopper, nobody ever does," Tyler said, pulling his own keys from his pocket and throwing them to Matthew. In turn, Matthew unlocked Tyler's passenger door, opened it, climbed through and then opened the driver's door.

"Get that fixed," Matthew grumbled, righting himself and staggering towards his own vehicle. Almost as an after thought, he turned and threw Tyler his keys back. "See you in a few."

"And we'll see you Thursday," Tyler said. "Unless you want to come over tomorrow or Wednesday."

"We'll see," Tracey replied, sliding into his car. And he left it at that. Now was not the time to make any plans farther than a few hours in advance.

Timothy's Keeping Still mixtape was still in the stereo, just a bit loud and jarring for such an already headache-inducing morning. But Tracey didn't bother to do anything beside turn it down as he pulled away, letting Johnny Danger's voice lure him into a slightly-better frame of mind. Johnny still did things to him with just his voice, things Tracey hadn't quite admitted to anyone save for Matthew. Not even Timothy quite understood the depths of Tracey's obsession. And yet Matthew had been so willing to hear it all out.

Sometimes, then, those enemy-like friends really were... gathering blackmail information.

As Tracey left the mall lot, he realized he wasn't nearly as nervous as he thought he was. After all, nothing had to be quite perfect. Timothy was already the most patient lover, willing to guide Tracey through every bit of awkwardness they encountered almost like clockwork.

And today was supposed to be the day where Timothy would finally pose in nothing more than his bracelets and whatever happened after that was all in the plan.

Stopping at a red light, Tracey couldn't help but think that if he was nervous at all, it was about the drawing part, and not the part where he would be proving just how really damned gay he seemed to be.

Really, really damned gay, Tracey thought, listening to the tape change sides right as the light turned green.

His mother had been really understanding about his desire to opt out of college classes for the semester, especially since she finally seemed to be understanding that they weren't leading him anywhere, anyway. Tracey did want to take an art class during the summer though, when the weather was a little more conducive to his wanting to get out of bed and brave something he was paying for, instead of something he was being paid to do.

Timothy had managed to get his classes lumped onto a Tuesday/Thursday schedule, potentially the best thing possible. At least for the time being, since it was very much Monday and Tracey very much wanted to spend as much of the day as possible with Timothy.

Nobody would set foot in the house until mid-evening, thanks to Vicki's cheerleading practice, his mother's work schedule, and Rebecca's growing habit of spending every waking hour with Emily.

No sooner had Tracey gotten home than he ran through the shower, cleaning the bits he deemed important and hoping soap hit everything else. His stomach had finally stopped rumbling after grabbing a hot dog from the store's cafe, so that wasn't a concern. And hopefully Timothy wouldn't be hungry for anything other than...

Tracey laughed. Now he was nervous. It was about time. He wandered into his room and double-checked that he had everything necessary, including a fresh box of decent pencils and plenty of durable paper. And since he had no clue exactly what time Timothy would choose to deem fashionably late, he started drawing.

Ever since meeting Ethan Minewin, the strange fae-like man had become his favorite creature to draw. His form took shape first, joined by a very rough outline of Johnny, reaching to kiss Ethan's downturned hand. The pose worked, but Tracey couldn't quite figure out why he was drawing it. There was no logic. Just two of his favorite things to draw, together in an impossible moment. Emily's Jorin joined the pair a moment later, arms crossed and looking angry at being so snubbed. At his feet, courtesy of a good white eraser, Timothy lounged, a dandelion between his fingers. It would be a neat picture, if ever finished and colored, but Tracey couldn't bring himself to add another line to it after he roughly shaded Timothy's hair.

He was too impatient - he'd only ruin it. Nnn. Doubt. Now was not the time for that.

Another piece of paper now... bending reality and sketching Tyler in Billy's place, holding Matthew's hand. There was a bit of guilt about doing that, but he couldn't help himself. Some things seemed so darned meant to be that it made no sense that they weren't!

The doorbell jolted Tracey from what had become a rather engaging picture. Pairing up the best friends as lovers was more amusing than he thought it would be, and after doodling a little sketch of them kissing, he couldn't stop doing other little figures around the edge of the paper, getting more and more involved.

That sheet of paper was shoved quickly into a drawer as Tracey ran for the door.

No need to be nervous, no need to be... Tracey opened the door and smiled, amused at the fluffy overcoat Timothy had rounded up for the winter. Fitting his personality more than his body, it Timothy seemed to swim in it, but Tracey knew it was warm enough to stave off the January chill. Purple-tinted sunglasses rounded out Timothy's protection from the elements, looking just a bit less ridiculous but quite a bit cuter than Tyler had looked in his 'January Sunshine' get-up.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Timothy said as Tracey stepped aside to let him in. "I couldn't decide what to take off."

Tracey started laughing as he closed the door. No need for nervousness here, no... He pulled Timothy into a kiss, hands fighting through a fuzzy collar to get at Timothy's hair, cold from the chill but as silky as Tracey had ever felt hair to be.

If there was one thing he found himself growing addicted to, it was Timothy's kisses. They had a heat to them that he'd never found with anyone else, drawing him and holding him with even more of the seductive charm that Timothy effortlessly wielded to begin with.

"I was just doing some cartoonish sketches," Tracey said once he'd left the liplock and reached for Timothy's coat to hang on the rack beside the door. Timothy shrugged out his outer layer off easily, revealing a tight dark shirt and deep green cargo pants. Nothing fancy.

Inwardly, Tracey breathed a sigh of relief.

"Of what?" Timothy asked.

"Faeries," Tracey replied, positive that the one sketch of Jorin kept his statement from actually being a lie. Ethan qualified as fae enough anyway. Two was enough for a plural and a truthful reply.

"Oh, for Matthew's sister?" Timothy asked, reaching to fix his already unruffled hair.

"Not yet," Tracey admitted. "Actually, I wouldn't mind borrowing your sister as a model. I mean, clothed and all... For the female form in a few different perfectly non-perverted positions. She has a nice shape in the purely aesthetic sense."

Ah, that was putting both feet in his mouth and attempting to hop along on his ass. Good, good...

"She's more protective of me than I am of her," Timothy explained with a smile. "But enough talking about getting my sister to model for you... I want to model for you!"

Tracey locked the front door and gestured down the hallway, feeling a little awkward at the prospect of leading Timothy. Timothy knew where he was going by now, after all.

"Should I just take everything off now?" Timothy asked as he walked into Tracey's room. Pausing, he bent over to pick up a stray pencil that was half under the part of the bedspread that trailed to the floor.

"Only if you don't want a single picture done," Tracey replied, slipping past Timothy to get to his desk. He was going to at least try to do a few good sketches before giving up on keeping his libido in check and his penis in his pants.

"I feel over-dressed, though." Timothy hopped onto the bed, sprawling out for a moment before moving to sit on the edge. "How do you want me?"

"Be natural," Tracey said softly as nervousness crept back into his mind. Normal people did not make plans for sex. It was supposed to be spontaneous and... sexy. This was strange.

"Can I talk to you?" Timothy asked, shifting about three more times before settling half-upside down, hair trailing down to the floor.

"Only if you just move your mouth."

Actually picking up his pencil, Tracey waited another minute for Timothy to crawl off of the bed and settle against the wall, one leg bent and the other kicked in front of him.

"This okay?"

"However you're comfortable," Tracey replied almost mechanically. He was making fast lines, rough but accurate. He could fill in the rest later, another day. Timothy's hair... Too easy to fall into detail with that, black that had to be dyed just a few shades darker than natural and lacking the shimmering blue of Ethan's but keeping the same silken quality.

Timothy and Ethan - his dark angels. Ever since he'd sold those few drawings to Jameson, he'd secretly been doing more. Not a one of them matched the originals, but he was being more bold with them, trying to make actual pieces instead of just doodles.

"Can I see?"

"Not yet."

Timothy kept moving his hands, but Tracey wasn't too disturbed by that. He knew where they should be. He tried to change his wall into a tree, wondering if Timothy could become one of Emily's faeries.

Wishing he didn't suck at backgrounds, Tracey grabbed another piece of paper to try something a little different.

"You just..."

"Not yet," Tracey interjected. Impatience.

"I'll take something off," Timothy threatened.

"Fine," Tracey dared, the hard look of concentration on his face changing to a smirk. They could both play - they were both supposed to be playing, after all. They were both supposed to be...

As he put his pencil down, Tracey watched Timothy's expression switch from victory to some sort of interesting fear. Timothy got to his feet slowly, not bothering to mask a gasp as Tracey reached for his pants.

"Take everything off," Tracey continued. He hoped he didn't sound nervous. He couldn't believe he was doing this. He couldn't believe that he hadn't done it sooner.


Not actually having touched Timothy any way but through clothing, Tracey hesitated a moment as he got Timothy's pants undone and let them fall. Without anything underneath, the pale of Timothy's skin shocked him.

As he slowly slid his hand over to rest just forward of Timothy's hip, Tracey let himself fall into a kiss, Timothy's tongue against his telling him that it was okay to keep going. Despite his thin, pale body, Timothy was warm and just as Tracey was finally ready to move, Timothy shifted just enough to push his partial arousal into Tracey's hand.

Tracey's first reaction was to pull back but he didn't, Timothy's arms around him as their mouths stayed together. He could feel Timothy shiver against him as he awkwardly stroked, realizing that while Timothy's penis was very much like his own penis, it was also very different as it just happened to be attached to another human.

"Draw me now," Timothy said breathlessly, pulling back and slipping onto the bed. "Tracey..."

Right... Draw him. When he had his legs parted and his hair was already half disheveled to a look Tracey hoped to soon consider 'just-fucked'. Yeah, self-control was his friend... Damn...

Sitting back at his desk, he had to reach down to try to shove his own demanding erection into a slightly more comfortable position. Paper... pencil... right...

"We have a deal," Timothy reminded him.

"I know," Tracey said quickly. Fast lines, things that could be smoothed out later. An outline, skipping detail on Timothy's hair. Trying not to figure out how to get the look of wetness at the tip of Timothy's erection - he could add that later. Proportion. Perspective.


"I'll finish them later," Tracey said after a few more minutes of frantic sketching. "That could take hours. I'm sure you'd rather..."

"I brought condoms and lube," Timothy announced, rolling enough that he could dangle half off the bed and grab for his pants. "Not that I'm afraid of catching anything from you, but it's actually less messier that way... D'ya have a towel in here, too?"

"Yeah," Tracey said. He was fairly sure that he'd brought one in. He had some idea of what he was doing, after all. Sex was messy no matter who was involved.

His real problem, at the moment, involved not being too incredibly sure if he should be taking off his clothing or getting the towel.

"Towel should be, um, by the TV," Tracey finally said as he pulled off his own shirt. He'd missed Timothy taking off his. Somewhere in there. It hadn't mattered much.

He hoped his penis looked okay.

Either way, he finished stripping and slid into the blush that he knew was tinting his entire body. Timothy had found the towel all right, settling onto it in an even more wanton position.

"C'mere," Timothy beckoned, reaching to pull Tracey onto the bed. Timothy was still warm, pressing against him and almost overwhelming him. Skin against skin.

"Damn..." Tracey managed, wondering how his body could be so close to overload from just the few seconds they'd been touching.

"What?" Timothy asked, reaching down between their bodies to trace fingers along the length of Tracey's arousal.

"That." Tracey tried not to moan as he pressed against Timothy's hand.

"We don't have to, y'know, actually fuck today," Timothy said softly as he trailed kisses down Tracey's neck.

"But I want to," Tracey replied. "I mean..."

"Sex is more than where you shove your dick," Timothy countered with a smirk as he slid his hand away from Tracey's erection and sat up, licking his lips before descending.

Ah, if there was any time to embarrass himself, this was it.

"Damn!" Tracey repeated. His mind was at a loss. This was pure pleasure as Timothy did little more than gently tease with his tongue. "I'm gonna..."

"It's okay," Timothy assured him before dipping lower to take the first couple inches of Tracey's erection into his mouth.

Not entirely sure on that, Tracey couldn't do much to stop his body's response anyway, grabbing at both the bed and Timothy's hair as the sensation pooling beneath his stomach suddenly demanded release. Crying out something that he certainly hoped wasn't 'damn', Tracey could feel his orgasm in his toes and fingertips, blissful so far even from the center where Timothy was graciously licking him clean and making him wish he could come again.

"That's sex too," Timothy said with a smile, sitting up to finally lick his lips. "I'm not going to ask you to do the same yet. If you want to just use your hands..."

"Uh huh," Tracey murmured. He was fairly sure that his hands were still shaking. He could try. Yes, it wasn't so hard with Timothy beside him, moving against him. Timothy's mouth tasted like... that wasn't so bad.

He did know what to do with a penis, after all. And with Timothy settled and moaning against him, moving within his hands, it didn't take long.

Thankful for the towel, Tracey almost missed Timothy's soft whisper as he reached down to wipe his hands.

'There', Timothy had said, 'now I'm yours.'


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