![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Nobody will - this is just us.
[Derek was the one who said no secrets, but Tate can assume this is just - something not meant to be shared, something private and personal. Like how Derek doesn't share things of this nature with Stiles, they don't need to share what they do with anyone. That actually makes Tate a little bit hard to think about, the idea of privacy and something so... intimate that all they need is each other? He's romanticizing it but that's what he does, because Tate can't not go to extremes.
His fingers touch the edge of Derek's cock, trapped under the denim of his jeans and straining there with evident girth. He can't really see it but he feels it, hand moving up still before he makes use of the space growing between Derek's thighs by slipping into it. He doesn't answer the question of whether or not this moment now is the best choice, or needed by Tate, but hopes his actions speak for him. Because Derek needs it and by proxy, so does Tate.
Tate's transported back in time to the orientation, to the night of the party - to any time between or after that when he's looked at Derek and seen not just Derek but the parts that contribute to him. The slope of his shoulders, the chisel of his jaw. The features that Tate's thought about like he's thought about others, with his hand down his pants and a confliction in his head about whether or not it's okay. But now he knows it is.]
Pack privacy.
[He says with the soft start of a smile, hand groping over Derek's cock just long enough to feel it before he shifts gears and goes for the button and zipper. He isn't sure what this means still, if it's doing it for the sake of doing it or because of more - but he doesn't want to lose the chance.]
Let me do this? I want... I want to be the lead, okay? Just relax.
[Derek was the one who said no secrets, but Tate can assume this is just - something not meant to be shared, something private and personal. Like how Derek doesn't share things of this nature with Stiles, they don't need to share what they do with anyone. That actually makes Tate a little bit hard to think about, the idea of privacy and something so... intimate that all they need is each other? He's romanticizing it but that's what he does, because Tate can't not go to extremes.
His fingers touch the edge of Derek's cock, trapped under the denim of his jeans and straining there with evident girth. He can't really see it but he feels it, hand moving up still before he makes use of the space growing between Derek's thighs by slipping into it. He doesn't answer the question of whether or not this moment now is the best choice, or needed by Tate, but hopes his actions speak for him. Because Derek needs it and by proxy, so does Tate.
Tate's transported back in time to the orientation, to the night of the party - to any time between or after that when he's looked at Derek and seen not just Derek but the parts that contribute to him. The slope of his shoulders, the chisel of his jaw. The features that Tate's thought about like he's thought about others, with his hand down his pants and a confliction in his head about whether or not it's okay. But now he knows it is.]
Pack privacy.
[He says with the soft start of a smile, hand groping over Derek's cock just long enough to feel it before he shifts gears and goes for the button and zipper. He isn't sure what this means still, if it's doing it for the sake of doing it or because of more - but he doesn't want to lose the chance.]
Let me do this? I want... I want to be the lead, okay? Just relax.
[ Pack privacy sounds - good. Something he needs. Tate might think he's going to extremes, but that romanticized idea of only needing each other, that's what he's always wanted in a pack, that's how he tried to fucking sell it to Tate in the first place. Derek's tense, muscles all taut and tightly knit together, but he's not pulling away from Tate as he advances on him. Just - watching, with dark eyes, unblinking and predatory. Vicious. Hiding the colour of blood behind the false, human screen of hazel. ]
Just us.
[ He's not used to... not taking the lead, but if this is what Tate needs, it's what Derek is obligated to give him. Tate touches his cock and Derek has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop from rolling his hips forward. He pops open his button and starts slowly pulling down his zipper, and Derek feels oddly ashamed of himself, when his dick reacts as strongly as it does. He sucks in air through his teeth and flexes his cock in his jeans, precum sticky and warm against his thigh. It-- kind of hurts, trapped the way it is, too tight in the confines of his clothes to reach full arousal, and he's a little ashamed of how impatient he is for Tate to free it into the night air, too.
He tugs off his jacket, slowly, like he's not sure if he's allowed to get undressed or if that's - wrong, somehow. His sleeves are all bunched up over his shoulders and he doesn't bother pulling them down. Leaning with his hands back against the wood, Derek's breaths are already coming more staggered, more shallow. Already, he feels like he's burning up. ]
Just - don't... don't feel like you have to do this.
[ Maybe a little too late to make that protest. ]
Just us.
[ He's not used to... not taking the lead, but if this is what Tate needs, it's what Derek is obligated to give him. Tate touches his cock and Derek has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop from rolling his hips forward. He pops open his button and starts slowly pulling down his zipper, and Derek feels oddly ashamed of himself, when his dick reacts as strongly as it does. He sucks in air through his teeth and flexes his cock in his jeans, precum sticky and warm against his thigh. It-- kind of hurts, trapped the way it is, too tight in the confines of his clothes to reach full arousal, and he's a little ashamed of how impatient he is for Tate to free it into the night air, too.
He tugs off his jacket, slowly, like he's not sure if he's allowed to get undressed or if that's - wrong, somehow. His sleeves are all bunched up over his shoulders and he doesn't bother pulling them down. Leaning with his hands back against the wood, Derek's breaths are already coming more staggered, more shallow. Already, he feels like he's burning up. ]
Just - don't... don't feel like you have to do this.
[ Maybe a little too late to make that protest. ]
["Pack privacy" is gonna get used a lot, Tate thinks, and maybe not just for events like this. It's an easily abuseable way of keeping Derek sworn to secrecy, not that Tate would do so so directly. Tate quietly goes about loosening Derek's jeans, starting to tug them down his hips and he looks up expectantly when he needs Derek to help in arching his back or moving his hips to help facilitate pulling denim down his thighs. All the while he seems calm, dark eyes watchful and thumbs stroking on stretches of skin.
As soon as Tate gets his fingers in the waistband of Derek's boxers, there's no turning back. He pulls them down hard and fast, letting the force of the movement be telling enough for whether or not he feels like doing this. But then, after that, his eyes drop. For the first time he sees Derek's cock and it makes a definite shift of arousal in Tate, who pinches together his lips and swallows hard.]
I want this.
[His voice is quiet, punctuated by the way he reaches out with his hand to lift Derek's cock - marveling at the meaty girth of it in his palm. He shifts forward on his knees, closer to the v of Derek's groin and spends a moment more or less enchanted with his dick. Tate drags his thumb over the stain of precum, swirling it against the head of his cock and every little gesture he does is - slow, but with purpose.
He slickens his hand with the warm sticky precum and starts jerking Derek off in steady pumps.]
Just tell me if I can do something better for you. Tell me what you like.
As soon as Tate gets his fingers in the waistband of Derek's boxers, there's no turning back. He pulls them down hard and fast, letting the force of the movement be telling enough for whether or not he feels like doing this. But then, after that, his eyes drop. For the first time he sees Derek's cock and it makes a definite shift of arousal in Tate, who pinches together his lips and swallows hard.]
I want this.
[His voice is quiet, punctuated by the way he reaches out with his hand to lift Derek's cock - marveling at the meaty girth of it in his palm. He shifts forward on his knees, closer to the v of Derek's groin and spends a moment more or less enchanted with his dick. Tate drags his thumb over the stain of precum, swirling it against the head of his cock and every little gesture he does is - slow, but with purpose.
He slickens his hand with the warm sticky precum and starts jerking Derek off in steady pumps.]
Just tell me if I can do something better for you. Tell me what you like.
[ Tate's progressing things here so quickly that Derek feels kind of blindsided by it. He's not-- resistant, but he's hesitant, like he's been thrown into the deep end of a pool he didn't expect to be swimming in. Intimidated though he might be by all this, he's not willing to stop - not when it would mean taking away the safety net he's trying to give Tate. Not when it would mean letting him down as an Alpha.
He's not looking at Tate when he very slowly, very shallowly lifts his hips, allowing him to pull his jeans down and off, and he actually closes his eyes when Tate does the same to his boxers. He opens them again when Tate touches him directly. Tate's hand is cold to the touch, in a way that's-- kind of nice, and Derek's cock twitches with a need for more attention. He's trying to stay still and hold his breath while Tate gets him to relax, but it's not working. He's just getting harder. ]
This isn't... about me.
[ This is about Tate, this is about giving Tate what he likes. Derek holds onto the edge of the platform and turns his legs in a little, then straightens them out, like he doesn't know what to do. His lips are parted and his breath is coming slower, and he's still getting harder, getting bigger, foreskin rolling back from his head with each stroke, each sensitive touch to the tip. Derek breathes in, holds it, and breathes out, and he drags his eyes away from his cock to finally look directly at Tate. ]
But... uh...
[ Derek - hesitates, again, like saying what he might like, or what he might want, would be ultimately selfish. It takes him a second, and he ultimately just... asks for more in the most roundabout way he can. ]
What do you like?
He's not looking at Tate when he very slowly, very shallowly lifts his hips, allowing him to pull his jeans down and off, and he actually closes his eyes when Tate does the same to his boxers. He opens them again when Tate touches him directly. Tate's hand is cold to the touch, in a way that's-- kind of nice, and Derek's cock twitches with a need for more attention. He's trying to stay still and hold his breath while Tate gets him to relax, but it's not working. He's just getting harder. ]
This isn't... about me.
[ This is about Tate, this is about giving Tate what he likes. Derek holds onto the edge of the platform and turns his legs in a little, then straightens them out, like he doesn't know what to do. His lips are parted and his breath is coming slower, and he's still getting harder, getting bigger, foreskin rolling back from his head with each stroke, each sensitive touch to the tip. Derek breathes in, holds it, and breathes out, and he drags his eyes away from his cock to finally look directly at Tate. ]
But... uh...
[ Derek - hesitates, again, like saying what he might like, or what he might want, would be ultimately selfish. It takes him a second, and he ultimately just... asks for more in the most roundabout way he can. ]
What do you like?
[What does he like? Tate eyes Derek with his hand around his cock like he's given pause by the question, acknowledging that there will be what feels like a constant back and forth tug of war with regards to how they want to do something for one another over serving themselves. Tate's got needs he wants to meet, sure, but the way he lays down his loyalty to people is by doing whatever's necessary to secure it. So this isn't about him, to him, but he can see why Derek needs it to be.
Tate's hand moves slickly up and down Derek's cock, feeling it harden in his grip and wishing he could see better in the dark. Nothing's less sexy than shining a light on someone's dick so - he uses a tactile way of appreciating, swiveling his hand side to side as he pulls from the base of his cock to the tip and plunges back down. He shifts closer still, thighs touching Derek's as he shifts around on his knees - deciding how best to do this while sliding his fingers under Derek's balls, massaging them leisurely.]
What do I like in general, or what would I like to do to you?
[There's an amusement in his voice - like he knows he's circumventing the answer, but that's part of the fun. He slows the way he's pumping Derek's cock, trying to focus in the dark - using both hands to get a better estimate of how big his cock has to be. What little blue light he's got to his advantage doesn't give Tate enough to go off of so - shit, he'll be winging this.]
I like making people happy, hearing them moan. So.
[Tate shifts his knees back and in a rather fluid motion, slips to lay between Derek's legs and get comfortable there. Pumps his cock again, base to tip, before tentatively swiping his tongue up along the underside of it - growing bolder with the second lick, lips touching to the tip before parting to take it into the warmth of his mouth. He's not going to be answering many more questions, Derek, just so you're aware.]
Tate's hand moves slickly up and down Derek's cock, feeling it harden in his grip and wishing he could see better in the dark. Nothing's less sexy than shining a light on someone's dick so - he uses a tactile way of appreciating, swiveling his hand side to side as he pulls from the base of his cock to the tip and plunges back down. He shifts closer still, thighs touching Derek's as he shifts around on his knees - deciding how best to do this while sliding his fingers under Derek's balls, massaging them leisurely.]
What do I like in general, or what would I like to do to you?
[There's an amusement in his voice - like he knows he's circumventing the answer, but that's part of the fun. He slows the way he's pumping Derek's cock, trying to focus in the dark - using both hands to get a better estimate of how big his cock has to be. What little blue light he's got to his advantage doesn't give Tate enough to go off of so - shit, he'll be winging this.]
I like making people happy, hearing them moan. So.
[Tate shifts his knees back and in a rather fluid motion, slips to lay between Derek's legs and get comfortable there. Pumps his cock again, base to tip, before tentatively swiping his tongue up along the underside of it - growing bolder with the second lick, lips touching to the tip before parting to take it into the warmth of his mouth. He's not going to be answering many more questions, Derek, just so you're aware.]
[ Tate's turning this around on him. What would I like to do to you. Derek swallows, still running too warm, even with his jacket behind him. He pushes himself up higher on his forearms, bridging more of the distance between himself and what's being done to him.
Derek's always been contradictory - he wants nothing more than to take care of people, to protect them and to satisfy them and to make them happy, but - he's demanding, and he can be selfish, and the needs he has, the needs he wants to be met, he always feels them at eleven. He wants to fuck and take and win, he wants to come and be serviced and stay in control. He wants to be dominant, an apex predator, he wants to be wanted.
Right now, Tate's playing with both of those fires. What would I like to do to you - he's fixated on that. It's going straight to his cock. ]
Fuck.
[ Try as he might to seem as unemotionally, clinically neutral as he can about all of this, his body's betraying him. He gets to full hardness pretty fucking quickly once he's playing with his balls, another thread of precum running down his shaft to meet Tate's tongue as it swipes over the underside of it, and while he might not be able to see him in the dark, it's hard to miss how gifted he's been. He's a two-hand job. Derek's stomach flips when Tate shifts in closer, and - and he knows what's about to happen before it happens, but when Tate seals him in the tight, wet warmth of his mouth, Derek feels like he's been punched in the stomach.
Fuck. Fuck. Derek spreads his legs wider, keeping his eyes open even as they start to sting. Nervously, he slips his fingers back through Tate's hair. He doesn't... do anything, he just holds his hand there. Silent, inactive encouragement. ]
Derek's always been contradictory - he wants nothing more than to take care of people, to protect them and to satisfy them and to make them happy, but - he's demanding, and he can be selfish, and the needs he has, the needs he wants to be met, he always feels them at eleven. He wants to fuck and take and win, he wants to come and be serviced and stay in control. He wants to be dominant, an apex predator, he wants to be wanted.
Right now, Tate's playing with both of those fires. What would I like to do to you - he's fixated on that. It's going straight to his cock. ]
Fuck.
[ Try as he might to seem as unemotionally, clinically neutral as he can about all of this, his body's betraying him. He gets to full hardness pretty fucking quickly once he's playing with his balls, another thread of precum running down his shaft to meet Tate's tongue as it swipes over the underside of it, and while he might not be able to see him in the dark, it's hard to miss how gifted he's been. He's a two-hand job. Derek's stomach flips when Tate shifts in closer, and - and he knows what's about to happen before it happens, but when Tate seals him in the tight, wet warmth of his mouth, Derek feels like he's been punched in the stomach.
Fuck. Fuck. Derek spreads his legs wider, keeping his eyes open even as they start to sting. Nervously, he slips his fingers back through Tate's hair. He doesn't... do anything, he just holds his hand there. Silent, inactive encouragement. ]
[Tate may have underestimated how slack his jaw needs to be for this, and after the head of Derek's cock slips past his lips he has to relax himself not to lock up around it. His lips drag, tongue flush to the warmth of Derek's shaft as Tate tries to move forward on it - one hand firmly at the base and the other curled beneath that to hold his sack. His fingers fondle it, trying to be good - trying to apply the few things he knows works on other people to Derek, even if he's still clumsy with execution.
Derek, however, is bigger than the - two? two whole dicks Tate's seen, held and sucked. Not just in length but in girth, and it's definitely wrenching his plans to be show how good of a dick sucking slut he is when he's only got the head past his lips and already feels his tongue pinned down. Deep breath in and Tate forces himself to move, slipping one hand onto Derek's thigh to hold on as he bobs forward. He gets notably more enthused when he feels fingers in his hair, reminiscent of what he asked Derek to do mere moments ago.
The tip of Derek's cock starts going far enough back in his throat to make Tate's gag reflex begin to tingle, and he balls his hand into a fist and squeezes on his thumb to gently abate it. His other hand firmly holds Derek's cock, pumping what's left unsucked, in line with how he's bobbing and nursing at the other half. Is it even half? Tate can't tell, his eyes are closed and he's breathing hard through flared nostrils.
Finally, his eyes open, and he tries to look up at Derek - to catch any glimpse of him, through the veil of his hair in his eyes. Looking for more of the reassurance he can feel, and to see whether or not it's okay that he can't exactly deepthroat him the way he wanted to. To make amends, Tate pulls off and then sticks tow of his fingers into his mouth to wet them.]
I can do what I want, right?
[His voice is hoarse after he pulls off his fingers with a wet pop, fingers slick with a heavy coating of spit. Regardless of what Derek says, Tate's back on his cock. All his response affects is whether or not Tate's wet fingers can slip up between Derek's legs to probe at his hole.]
Derek, however, is bigger than the - two? two whole dicks Tate's seen, held and sucked. Not just in length but in girth, and it's definitely wrenching his plans to be show how good of a dick sucking slut he is when he's only got the head past his lips and already feels his tongue pinned down. Deep breath in and Tate forces himself to move, slipping one hand onto Derek's thigh to hold on as he bobs forward. He gets notably more enthused when he feels fingers in his hair, reminiscent of what he asked Derek to do mere moments ago.
The tip of Derek's cock starts going far enough back in his throat to make Tate's gag reflex begin to tingle, and he balls his hand into a fist and squeezes on his thumb to gently abate it. His other hand firmly holds Derek's cock, pumping what's left unsucked, in line with how he's bobbing and nursing at the other half. Is it even half? Tate can't tell, his eyes are closed and he's breathing hard through flared nostrils.
Finally, his eyes open, and he tries to look up at Derek - to catch any glimpse of him, through the veil of his hair in his eyes. Looking for more of the reassurance he can feel, and to see whether or not it's okay that he can't exactly deepthroat him the way he wanted to. To make amends, Tate pulls off and then sticks tow of his fingers into his mouth to wet them.]
I can do what I want, right?
[His voice is hoarse after he pulls off his fingers with a wet pop, fingers slick with a heavy coating of spit. Regardless of what Derek says, Tate's back on his cock. All his response affects is whether or not Tate's wet fingers can slip up between Derek's legs to probe at his hole.]
[ It's difficult for Derek to let himself relax. It's always hard for Derek to let himself relax, they just fucking talked about that, but here and now, especially, there's so much on his mind. Seperating himself from worries about Kavinsky, worries about Tate's quota, worries about whether or not he's doing the right thing as an Alpha, worries about everything, feels like an impossible task.
But he's still hard. He's still reacting to every exploratory touch of Tate's tongue, every gentle squeeze of tight, wet pressure, with pure, unfiltered interest. His cock flexes again, dripping precum on Tate's tongue, and his balls pull a little tighter to his body. Tate's clumsy and eager and that's-- honestly part of what's wearing Derek down, making him want more, making all of this feel even better. He won't admit that he likes this - but Tate's trying for him. Being good. Derek fucking loves that feeling.
And then Tate goes further, takes more of him in, and if he's not halfway down, he's at least close. Derek feels a jolt of worry as he watches him take more and more of his cock down his throat, and the part of him that's still thinking clearly wants to tell him to back off in case he hurts himself, or-- can't handle it, or something, but a more selfish side of him, a more primal, wants to see what Tate can do. Wants to see what he's learned, since coming here.
Like a lot of things Derek's been thinking tonight - maybe that's fucked up, too.
He's glassy eyed and out of it while he watches Tate work, and it takes a second for him to realize he's asked him a question once he's pulled off. Everything catches up to him at once, even as his cock flexes in Tate's hand and silently begs for his mouth again, and he realizes that Tate's asking for permission. Reassurance. Fuck, that's almost enough to make Derek come. He takes a breath, holds it in his chest, and trails his eyes down to Tate's slick, wet fingers.
Derek nods. Derek would nod, no matter what Tate asked, but he nods for this because he wants it. He curls his fingers through Tate's hair and smooths his fringe away from his eyes, wanting to see them, wanting the intimacy of eye contact. He's still stroking through his hair, languid and soothing and not half as rough or as demanding as his instincts tell him to be, when Tate dips back down onto his cock. His fingers press against his hole and Derek tenses, and he's tight, because - he might not be a virgin, but he's only ever done this once or twice. He reacts like it's something new, drawing his knees up a few centimeteres and holding his breath. ]
Do you... uh.
[ This isn't an offer for more. He doesn't think it's an offer for more, but - maybe it is. If it's an offer for more, it's - an offer disguised as clarification. ]
... What do you want to do?
But he's still hard. He's still reacting to every exploratory touch of Tate's tongue, every gentle squeeze of tight, wet pressure, with pure, unfiltered interest. His cock flexes again, dripping precum on Tate's tongue, and his balls pull a little tighter to his body. Tate's clumsy and eager and that's-- honestly part of what's wearing Derek down, making him want more, making all of this feel even better. He won't admit that he likes this - but Tate's trying for him. Being good. Derek fucking loves that feeling.
And then Tate goes further, takes more of him in, and if he's not halfway down, he's at least close. Derek feels a jolt of worry as he watches him take more and more of his cock down his throat, and the part of him that's still thinking clearly wants to tell him to back off in case he hurts himself, or-- can't handle it, or something, but a more selfish side of him, a more primal, wants to see what Tate can do. Wants to see what he's learned, since coming here.
Like a lot of things Derek's been thinking tonight - maybe that's fucked up, too.
He's glassy eyed and out of it while he watches Tate work, and it takes a second for him to realize he's asked him a question once he's pulled off. Everything catches up to him at once, even as his cock flexes in Tate's hand and silently begs for his mouth again, and he realizes that Tate's asking for permission. Reassurance. Fuck, that's almost enough to make Derek come. He takes a breath, holds it in his chest, and trails his eyes down to Tate's slick, wet fingers.
Derek nods. Derek would nod, no matter what Tate asked, but he nods for this because he wants it. He curls his fingers through Tate's hair and smooths his fringe away from his eyes, wanting to see them, wanting the intimacy of eye contact. He's still stroking through his hair, languid and soothing and not half as rough or as demanding as his instincts tell him to be, when Tate dips back down onto his cock. His fingers press against his hole and Derek tenses, and he's tight, because - he might not be a virgin, but he's only ever done this once or twice. He reacts like it's something new, drawing his knees up a few centimeteres and holding his breath. ]
Do you... uh.
[ This isn't an offer for more. He doesn't think it's an offer for more, but - maybe it is. If it's an offer for more, it's - an offer disguised as clarification. ]
... What do you want to do?
Edited 2019-05-08 00:36 (UTC)
[Tate's tongue swirls around Derek's cock with more ease the farther off of it he is, jaw a bit sore already but his lips wet with spit that streaks down his chin as he laps at the head of Derek's dick before sucking it again. His fingers find a similar rhythm of rubbing small circles around the tight ring of Derek's ass, fingering his hole with his middle finger and slowly applying a pressure against it - deliberately slow - to penetrate.
'What do you want to do', Derek asks him and Tate's still hung up on the three words before it. Do you... uh. He's not sure if that's an invite, an offer, a clarification that there's more on the table than he's asking for but Tate's alight with the possibility. He doesn't yet act on it because he's engrossed in what he's started out with but... the idea, it's seeded in his brain and as he looks up at Derek with his lips tight to his cock head, Tate's eyes are wide and thoughtful. He stares, keeping eye contact as his cheeks hollow and a lewd pop follows the next pull of his mouth off his dick.]
This.
[All he says before he's got another mouthful of dick, pushing forward until the bulk of it is against his tongue and in that same sweet moment he applies pressure to his fingertip to press it into Derek through any resulting turns of his hips. He almost bobs too far forward, pulling back when he starts to feel like he's about to retch, but continues - working forward and back with a sloppiness that suits him oddly enough. It's lewd, the noises he makes and the way he pushes himself forward and itches to peel off his shirt and feel the breeze. It's suddenly a lot warmer up here than a moment ago, and unlike Derek he's still cloaked in layers with his cock straining against his jeans.
'Do you... uh.' Fucking bastard, putting the thought in his head.]
'What do you want to do', Derek asks him and Tate's still hung up on the three words before it. Do you... uh. He's not sure if that's an invite, an offer, a clarification that there's more on the table than he's asking for but Tate's alight with the possibility. He doesn't yet act on it because he's engrossed in what he's started out with but... the idea, it's seeded in his brain and as he looks up at Derek with his lips tight to his cock head, Tate's eyes are wide and thoughtful. He stares, keeping eye contact as his cheeks hollow and a lewd pop follows the next pull of his mouth off his dick.]
This.
[All he says before he's got another mouthful of dick, pushing forward until the bulk of it is against his tongue and in that same sweet moment he applies pressure to his fingertip to press it into Derek through any resulting turns of his hips. He almost bobs too far forward, pulling back when he starts to feel like he's about to retch, but continues - working forward and back with a sloppiness that suits him oddly enough. It's lewd, the noises he makes and the way he pushes himself forward and itches to peel off his shirt and feel the breeze. It's suddenly a lot warmer up here than a moment ago, and unlike Derek he's still cloaked in layers with his cock straining against his jeans.
'Do you... uh.' Fucking bastard, putting the thought in his head.]
[ Getting fingered under semi-duress on cold, hard, wooden slats is real fucking different to being fingered in the bed you spend nearly all of your nights in. This feels-- new, again, and Derek's tense, not yielding easily against Tate's pressure. He has one eye closed and scrunched tight like he's almost in pain, and his nails are scraping against the ground enough to hurt, but he's giving every sign that he wants this. He's sliding his hips forward, parting his legs a little more, and when Tate finally works him open, he doesn't pull away.
He moans. It's the first moan he's done since Tate started, and it's this tiny, fragile thing that he tries to bite back the second he hears it slip through his teeth, but he moans, low and deep and masculine. He tightens his jaw after that, makes the dimples in his cheeks bend in beneath his beard. And then Tate says this.
Fuck, he moans again. It's this raw, primal sound that mixes with a growl, and Derek covers his mouth with his hand, digging his thumbnail into his cheek like he's trying to force himself to be quiet. He drops his hand again, curls it into a fist, and buries his knuckles into the wood. Tate buries his finger in a little deeper, and Derek does his best to keep his back flush to the ground, but between that and the feeling of Tate's tongue grinding down his head, he needs-- more. He wants more. Shallowly, so fucking shallowly, he rises his hips up, trying to push more of his tight ass against Tate's finger, trying to get more of him down his throat. A centimeter, maybe more. He's trying so hard to stay passive.
But he reaches his hand back out, back to Tate's hair. He wants to grab a fistful of it, wants to hold him in place. Wants to force his cock down his throat and make him gag. He won't - he's ashamed of himself for having the impulse - but he wants to. ]
Can...
[ Fuck, fuck, fuck. The noises Tate's making. Derek feels a shiver run down his spine. ]
Can you take... all of it?
He moans. It's the first moan he's done since Tate started, and it's this tiny, fragile thing that he tries to bite back the second he hears it slip through his teeth, but he moans, low and deep and masculine. He tightens his jaw after that, makes the dimples in his cheeks bend in beneath his beard. And then Tate says this.
Fuck, he moans again. It's this raw, primal sound that mixes with a growl, and Derek covers his mouth with his hand, digging his thumbnail into his cheek like he's trying to force himself to be quiet. He drops his hand again, curls it into a fist, and buries his knuckles into the wood. Tate buries his finger in a little deeper, and Derek does his best to keep his back flush to the ground, but between that and the feeling of Tate's tongue grinding down his head, he needs-- more. He wants more. Shallowly, so fucking shallowly, he rises his hips up, trying to push more of his tight ass against Tate's finger, trying to get more of him down his throat. A centimeter, maybe more. He's trying so hard to stay passive.
But he reaches his hand back out, back to Tate's hair. He wants to grab a fistful of it, wants to hold him in place. Wants to force his cock down his throat and make him gag. He won't - he's ashamed of himself for having the impulse - but he wants to. ]
Can...
[ Fuck, fuck, fuck. The noises Tate's making. Derek feels a shiver run down his spine. ]
Can you take... all of it?
[Tate likes the way Derek sounds when he's pleased, when he's being pleasured - that low rumbling groan that makes Tate's ears buzz to hear it. He's busy with his mouth full, sucking and swirling his tongue in repetitive tracks against the warmth of his cock before he hears Derek's voice sound strained in the air between them. He looks up, peels back, chin damp and rubbed clean against his shoulder while he looks at Derek and how he's sprawled out.
God, just having one finger in him feels - exciting. The tightness, the friction, the heat of him cinched around him... just makes Tate want to fuck him harder, faster and with something a lot different than the crooked knuckle of his middle finger. He presses in deeper, pulling out slow while he catches a breath and looks at Derek with his other hand still pumping at the base of his cock.]
I... I want to. Will you help me?
[Tate doesn't think - doesn't know that he can but he's still willing to try. And by having Derek help he means something very specific, which he's not sure he'd oblige. So he has to think for a moment more, finger plunging back into Derek and burying past the second knuckle. He exhales hard and then licks at his lip.]
Don't let me stop. Not until I do it, or you come, okay? Can you... Are you okay with that? Forcing me, if I ask you to? To help me along.
God, just having one finger in him feels - exciting. The tightness, the friction, the heat of him cinched around him... just makes Tate want to fuck him harder, faster and with something a lot different than the crooked knuckle of his middle finger. He presses in deeper, pulling out slow while he catches a breath and looks at Derek with his other hand still pumping at the base of his cock.]
I... I want to. Will you help me?
[Tate doesn't think - doesn't know that he can but he's still willing to try. And by having Derek help he means something very specific, which he's not sure he'd oblige. So he has to think for a moment more, finger plunging back into Derek and burying past the second knuckle. He exhales hard and then licks at his lip.]
Don't let me stop. Not until I do it, or you come, okay? Can you... Are you okay with that? Forcing me, if I ask you to? To help me along.
[ stiles isn't average. derek doesn't see stiles as anything even close to average. half of derek's muscles come from fear - from working himself to the bone, from making his hands bleed, as he did everything he could to run and get stronger and survive. his looks, the angular profile and chiseled jawline, the things that make him desirable - they're a burden, more than anything. a reminder that kate only kept him alive because she wanted to fuck him, a reminder that jennifer - who he hasn't even met yet - won't just use him as a guard dog, but use him for fucking fun, too.
scott doesn't have stiles' eyes, bright and amber and beautiful. danny doesn't have the freckles, the moles, the cute little marks that derek wants to press his lips to every time he sees them. jackson doesn't have his nose, malia doesn't have his lips, liam doesn't have his fucking hands. derek has never lied about how attractive he finds stiles, how perfect he believes him to be, how fucking wonderful he is, how fucking beautiful. he's not going to start now.
stiles rummages around in the box of condoms they keep by the bed and derek's eyebrow twitches, but he doesn't say anything yet. he plays with stiles' thigh while he waits for him to settle, ghosting fingertips over soft skin, pressing his lips here and there, just to feel him. stiles' fingers push back through his hair and derek... honestly, derek's never felt better, more safe, than he does here and now, and maybe he never will again. he doesn't think his heart has it to be this intensely, overwhelmingly full. he doesn't understand how all of his feelings for stiles just keep getting bigger. he didn't know he had it in him to love this much.
and then stiles is moving him, getting him into position, and derek willingly obliges. he's on his back with his head at the foot of the bed, and he doesn't need to look at stiles in order to trust him. he arches his neck back, bobbing his adam's apple as he swallows, and he stares glassily at the ceiling high above them. it's - stupid, that he keeps smiling, but he does. it's like every time he tries to press his lips back together to stop it, he can't. he's happy and he's safe and, okay, now he's starting to enjoy the anticipation. even if he is impatient.
stiles asks to see his face, and derek's smile is still there, but far softer. derek stretches out his leg straight, curling his toes, willingly spreading them apart so stiles can have easier access to his body, and the sweeping feeling of nervous vulnerability that settles in his stomach is - kind of exciting, too. if he were with anyone else, he wouldn't just feel so completely and inexplicably taken care of, but stiles? stiles makes him want to give up every ounce of control, give up all the power and assertive dominance he strives to have as an alpha. stiles makes him want to be taken care of. ]
You don't have to ask.
[ anything's okay, if he's with stiles. anything and everything. the world outside this room could tear itself apart, raze itself to the ground, and as long as the two of them were still here, safe and warm and together, he would, without a doubt, survive. this, though? being able to look in the eyes of somebody he loves - being able to completely, hopelessly surrender himself to the arms of the one fucking person he wants to be with until the day he dies, a feeling he's getting more and more sure of every time he fucking looks at him -
yeah. this is okay. fuck, he's getting carried away. ]
Just - as long as this is good for you.
[ because that's all that matters to him, really. he knows he's going to love this, because he knows he loves stiles, but he wants to be sure stiles will love this, too. stiles leans down for a kiss and derek puts his elbows in the sheets, leaning up to meet him, and for all the soft, sleepy energy they've had here, the way they've been whispering more than talking because it's so late, derek puts a lot of energy into this. he takes stiles' light kiss and runs with it, making it deeper, more demanding, and he doesn't go so far as to turn something romantic and beautiful into something lewd, something openly fuelled by his arousal, but fuck, he could. he easily, easily could.
derek leans back on his elbow, dropping his eyes to stiles' hands, and then back up. he puts his weight on one arm, reaches the other to stiles' cock, and gently, slowly starts to jerk him off, holding his length like it's something precious. he strokes stiles and holds eye contact, smile widening again in the dark, and then - quietly - he makes a request. ]
No protection. I want...
[ he doesn't hesitate, exactly, because he feels so fucking safe, so fucking supported, but there's always going to be that flutter of fear in his chest when it comes to stiles. always this baseless fear of being rejected by the one person whose rejection he honestly couldn't bear. ]
I want you to come in me. If that's... cool.
scott doesn't have stiles' eyes, bright and amber and beautiful. danny doesn't have the freckles, the moles, the cute little marks that derek wants to press his lips to every time he sees them. jackson doesn't have his nose, malia doesn't have his lips, liam doesn't have his fucking hands. derek has never lied about how attractive he finds stiles, how perfect he believes him to be, how fucking wonderful he is, how fucking beautiful. he's not going to start now.
stiles rummages around in the box of condoms they keep by the bed and derek's eyebrow twitches, but he doesn't say anything yet. he plays with stiles' thigh while he waits for him to settle, ghosting fingertips over soft skin, pressing his lips here and there, just to feel him. stiles' fingers push back through his hair and derek... honestly, derek's never felt better, more safe, than he does here and now, and maybe he never will again. he doesn't think his heart has it to be this intensely, overwhelmingly full. he doesn't understand how all of his feelings for stiles just keep getting bigger. he didn't know he had it in him to love this much.
and then stiles is moving him, getting him into position, and derek willingly obliges. he's on his back with his head at the foot of the bed, and he doesn't need to look at stiles in order to trust him. he arches his neck back, bobbing his adam's apple as he swallows, and he stares glassily at the ceiling high above them. it's - stupid, that he keeps smiling, but he does. it's like every time he tries to press his lips back together to stop it, he can't. he's happy and he's safe and, okay, now he's starting to enjoy the anticipation. even if he is impatient.
stiles asks to see his face, and derek's smile is still there, but far softer. derek stretches out his leg straight, curling his toes, willingly spreading them apart so stiles can have easier access to his body, and the sweeping feeling of nervous vulnerability that settles in his stomach is - kind of exciting, too. if he were with anyone else, he wouldn't just feel so completely and inexplicably taken care of, but stiles? stiles makes him want to give up every ounce of control, give up all the power and assertive dominance he strives to have as an alpha. stiles makes him want to be taken care of. ]
You don't have to ask.
[ anything's okay, if he's with stiles. anything and everything. the world outside this room could tear itself apart, raze itself to the ground, and as long as the two of them were still here, safe and warm and together, he would, without a doubt, survive. this, though? being able to look in the eyes of somebody he loves - being able to completely, hopelessly surrender himself to the arms of the one fucking person he wants to be with until the day he dies, a feeling he's getting more and more sure of every time he fucking looks at him -
yeah. this is okay. fuck, he's getting carried away. ]
Just - as long as this is good for you.
[ because that's all that matters to him, really. he knows he's going to love this, because he knows he loves stiles, but he wants to be sure stiles will love this, too. stiles leans down for a kiss and derek puts his elbows in the sheets, leaning up to meet him, and for all the soft, sleepy energy they've had here, the way they've been whispering more than talking because it's so late, derek puts a lot of energy into this. he takes stiles' light kiss and runs with it, making it deeper, more demanding, and he doesn't go so far as to turn something romantic and beautiful into something lewd, something openly fuelled by his arousal, but fuck, he could. he easily, easily could.
derek leans back on his elbow, dropping his eyes to stiles' hands, and then back up. he puts his weight on one arm, reaches the other to stiles' cock, and gently, slowly starts to jerk him off, holding his length like it's something precious. he strokes stiles and holds eye contact, smile widening again in the dark, and then - quietly - he makes a request. ]
No protection. I want...
[ he doesn't hesitate, exactly, because he feels so fucking safe, so fucking supported, but there's always going to be that flutter of fear in his chest when it comes to stiles. always this baseless fear of being rejected by the one person whose rejection he honestly couldn't bear. ]
I want you to come in me. If that's... cool.
[ Derek's not prepared for Tate to press in deeper. He hisses, but he loves it, his eyelids fluttering and his jaw dropping open, and Derek never really thought of himself as-- as a bottom, but the more time he's spent here, the more he's explored, the more he's starting to wonder if that's worth challenging. His legs actually tremble a little, he sees fireworks behind his eyes, and he'll realize, later, when he sees four indented, parallel scratches in the wood, that his claws came out for a second as he scrambled to hold on and tense up.
Tate takes his mouth off his cock and Derek knew he was going to, because he asked him a fucking question, but he still makes this noise that's caught between a whimper and a threatening, knee-jerk growl, like he's angry at him for stopping. He digs his canine into his bottom lip until it feels like it's going to break blood, and he drifts away from touching Tate and looking at Tate to just grip the floor with both hands again, watching his hand glide up and down his cock.
Will you help me. Derek's nodding before Tate finishes the question, then rapidly shaking his head when he gets a hold of himself. He can't. He can't force Tate to do anything. The thought of it's killing him, and he strains even harder in Tate's hand, pressing his ass against his finger for more once it's taken away from him, but-- but he can't. ]
I don't--
[ He stops moving, like he's suddenly catching himself getting eager, getting horny. He tenses up, tight and vice-like around Tate's finger when Tate finally gives it back, gasping a little at how sudden it is, but-- but still wanting more. One finger isn't enough. ]
I don't-- I don't think so. I don't want to hurt you.
Tate takes his mouth off his cock and Derek knew he was going to, because he asked him a fucking question, but he still makes this noise that's caught between a whimper and a threatening, knee-jerk growl, like he's angry at him for stopping. He digs his canine into his bottom lip until it feels like it's going to break blood, and he drifts away from touching Tate and looking at Tate to just grip the floor with both hands again, watching his hand glide up and down his cock.
Will you help me. Derek's nodding before Tate finishes the question, then rapidly shaking his head when he gets a hold of himself. He can't. He can't force Tate to do anything. The thought of it's killing him, and he strains even harder in Tate's hand, pressing his ass against his finger for more once it's taken away from him, but-- but he can't. ]
I don't--
[ He stops moving, like he's suddenly catching himself getting eager, getting horny. He tenses up, tight and vice-like around Tate's finger when Tate finally gives it back, gasping a little at how sudden it is, but-- but still wanting more. One finger isn't enough. ]
I don't-- I don't think so. I don't want to hurt you.
Edited 2019-05-08 05:03 (UTC)
[ there is no universe in which stiles can realistically imagine that being with derek wouldn't be good. good is an understatement as it is, but being with derek in any capacity is more than stiles could ever ask for, more than he deserves in any world or in any timeline - but it still touches him kind of deeply, that derek would make a point to make this about stiles just as much as it is about derek.
stiles has never done this before. not outside of the full moon, and he'd never say what happened on the kitchen counter doesn't count, but this, here, is the first time he's gone so far as to ask to switch things up from the norm. and the norm is great, what they regularly get up to is fucking fantastic, but there's something about this night that makes him want to - not necessarily prove something to derek, but to just - provide, in ways that derek usually provides for him instead.
he's nervous. god, he's fucking nervous, but it's okay, because he also feels safe. he doesn't feel scared, just a good kind of anxious, a low simmering excitement. he smiles, and he kisses derek, and when derek takes it further and turns something chaste into something deeper and more intimate, something a little more aggressive, stiles is there. he meets him with equal enthusiasm, drawing in short breaths through his nose, opening his mouth, testing the strength of derek's tongue against his own.
he's panting a little bit by the time derek eases back, his arms starting to shake a little from holding himself up. he drops himself down to his elbows, which narrows the space between them some, but still leaves enough room for derek to reach down and take his cock in hand. stiles sighs, breath warm against derek's cheek. he lifts his head after a beat or two, wanting to look at derek, to see his face just like he said, and derek is looking at him already. he's smiling, and stiles' stomach flips lightly, his heart pattering in his chest.
stiles starts to smile back at him, hips rolling slow and lazy to meet the slide of derek's hand, right up until derek tells him what he wants. his hips stutter and then still, and stiles' eyes widen just the tiniest bit, just centimeter, a millimeter.
no protection, he says, which is fine - that's not entirely new anymore, but he follows that with i want you to come inside me, and - stiles nearly comes right there, right over derek's hand. he drops his head, forehead thumping gently againt derek's chest, hips rolling into his fist again, just once, like he's imagining it. stiles makes a quiet sound, akin to a soft moan. he's still got the lube in his one hand, held in a tight fist now. ]
Jesus... Christ. [ yeah. yeah, that's cool. he's cool with that. stiles smiles suddenly, pressing a rough laugh into derek's chest. he lifts his head after a moment so he can look at him, smile pulling at the edges of his mouth. ] Dude, I am so cool with that.
[ despite his light ribbing, though, he softens, leaving another kiss at the base of derek's throat before he sits back up, gently easing derek's hand off of him so he can rest back on his haunches again. he's got the lube in his other hand, flicks the cap open with a push of his thumb.
he gets nervous again. anticipatory, even though he's still gotta do some prep work before he can even think about pushing his cock into derek. he swallows, shifting his gaze down to his hands, looking past them for a moment at derek's thighs, the way they're spread, his dick, thick and heavy between them. fuck, he's so stunning it hurts.
a little messily, stiles dribbles some lube over the fingers of his left hand, just the index and middle fingers for now. he uses his chin to snap the cap back on, dropping the bottle into the sheets a little off to the side. he uses his thumb to spread the lube over his fingers, slides his right hand one of derek's tight and circles it around to the back of his knee, trying to get him to bend his leg a little, move it up and out. ]
You have to— [ he has to stop to swallow, his voice soft but a little gravely. stiles glances up to look derek in the face for a moment, then looks back down at what he's doing. carefully, gently, he slides the pad of his thumb over the tight ring of muscle, hand trembling just the slightest as he slowly spreads some of the lube on his fingers around. ] You have to tell me if you don't like something. Promise me.
[ stiles waits for a beat, then adjusts the angle of his hand so he can push the tip of his middle finger against derek's hole, gently adding pressure, gently easing inside. his heart is beating fast in his chest, eyes jumping back and forth between his hand between derek's legs and his face, his other hand still spread under the back of one thigh, thumb stroking slowly. ]
stiles has never done this before. not outside of the full moon, and he'd never say what happened on the kitchen counter doesn't count, but this, here, is the first time he's gone so far as to ask to switch things up from the norm. and the norm is great, what they regularly get up to is fucking fantastic, but there's something about this night that makes him want to - not necessarily prove something to derek, but to just - provide, in ways that derek usually provides for him instead.
he's nervous. god, he's fucking nervous, but it's okay, because he also feels safe. he doesn't feel scared, just a good kind of anxious, a low simmering excitement. he smiles, and he kisses derek, and when derek takes it further and turns something chaste into something deeper and more intimate, something a little more aggressive, stiles is there. he meets him with equal enthusiasm, drawing in short breaths through his nose, opening his mouth, testing the strength of derek's tongue against his own.
he's panting a little bit by the time derek eases back, his arms starting to shake a little from holding himself up. he drops himself down to his elbows, which narrows the space between them some, but still leaves enough room for derek to reach down and take his cock in hand. stiles sighs, breath warm against derek's cheek. he lifts his head after a beat or two, wanting to look at derek, to see his face just like he said, and derek is looking at him already. he's smiling, and stiles' stomach flips lightly, his heart pattering in his chest.
stiles starts to smile back at him, hips rolling slow and lazy to meet the slide of derek's hand, right up until derek tells him what he wants. his hips stutter and then still, and stiles' eyes widen just the tiniest bit, just centimeter, a millimeter.
no protection, he says, which is fine - that's not entirely new anymore, but he follows that with i want you to come inside me, and - stiles nearly comes right there, right over derek's hand. he drops his head, forehead thumping gently againt derek's chest, hips rolling into his fist again, just once, like he's imagining it. stiles makes a quiet sound, akin to a soft moan. he's still got the lube in his one hand, held in a tight fist now. ]
Jesus... Christ. [ yeah. yeah, that's cool. he's cool with that. stiles smiles suddenly, pressing a rough laugh into derek's chest. he lifts his head after a moment so he can look at him, smile pulling at the edges of his mouth. ] Dude, I am so cool with that.
[ despite his light ribbing, though, he softens, leaving another kiss at the base of derek's throat before he sits back up, gently easing derek's hand off of him so he can rest back on his haunches again. he's got the lube in his other hand, flicks the cap open with a push of his thumb.
he gets nervous again. anticipatory, even though he's still gotta do some prep work before he can even think about pushing his cock into derek. he swallows, shifting his gaze down to his hands, looking past them for a moment at derek's thighs, the way they're spread, his dick, thick and heavy between them. fuck, he's so stunning it hurts.
a little messily, stiles dribbles some lube over the fingers of his left hand, just the index and middle fingers for now. he uses his chin to snap the cap back on, dropping the bottle into the sheets a little off to the side. he uses his thumb to spread the lube over his fingers, slides his right hand one of derek's tight and circles it around to the back of his knee, trying to get him to bend his leg a little, move it up and out. ]
You have to— [ he has to stop to swallow, his voice soft but a little gravely. stiles glances up to look derek in the face for a moment, then looks back down at what he's doing. carefully, gently, he slides the pad of his thumb over the tight ring of muscle, hand trembling just the slightest as he slowly spreads some of the lube on his fingers around. ] You have to tell me if you don't like something. Promise me.
[ stiles waits for a beat, then adjusts the angle of his hand so he can push the tip of his middle finger against derek's hole, gently adding pressure, gently easing inside. his heart is beating fast in his chest, eyes jumping back and forth between his hand between derek's legs and his face, his other hand still spread under the back of one thigh, thumb stroking slowly. ]
Edited 2019-05-08 17:28 (UTC)
[Tate doesn't mean to feel frustrated by Derek's rebuffing of the idea, just like how he didn't mean to feel annoyed when Peter showed hesitance when they screwed around when it came to putting his hands around his neck. He didn't want to hurt him, didn't want to do too much despite the fact Tate told him it was fine. This is fine. Just like he can get Peter to come around, he can get Derek. It's just a loop he hates to have to jump through.
In what could be perceived as the only punishment for making him do that jump, Tate slowly withdraws his finger from Derek to leave him empty and wanting. It'll make him hornier to fuck him, he rationalizes, teasing the flat of his tongue against Derek's cock before gripping it by the base in a few steady pumps. He doesn't know if he can do it all but he's now more than determined to try.]
You won't hurt me. This is what I want, so... just help me do this.
[Without anything else to say, Tate swirls his tongue around Derek's cock again and then bobs forward. He starts by working the tip again, getting it slick with spit and letting it run down the sides of Derek's dick, swirled together with the taste of precum on his tongue. It's lewd and disorganized, how he hunches his back and starts to get to work, pushing ever forward, perhaps faster than he should. He starts to gag and pulls back, only to breath in sharply and go again.]
In what could be perceived as the only punishment for making him do that jump, Tate slowly withdraws his finger from Derek to leave him empty and wanting. It'll make him hornier to fuck him, he rationalizes, teasing the flat of his tongue against Derek's cock before gripping it by the base in a few steady pumps. He doesn't know if he can do it all but he's now more than determined to try.]
You won't hurt me. This is what I want, so... just help me do this.
[Without anything else to say, Tate swirls his tongue around Derek's cock again and then bobs forward. He starts by working the tip again, getting it slick with spit and letting it run down the sides of Derek's dick, swirled together with the taste of precum on his tongue. It's lewd and disorganized, how he hunches his back and starts to get to work, pushing ever forward, perhaps faster than he should. He starts to gag and pulls back, only to breath in sharply and go again.]
Hey.
Can you do me a favor?
If you're busy it can wait.
Can you do me a favor?
If you're busy it can wait.
Can you text Rosalind?
Literally anything, it doesn't matter.
[ because his calls and texts aren't going through. and she's not answering her door. and he just had a fall-out with her literally the day before, and now he's kind of paranoid. ]
Literally anything, it doesn't matter.
[ because his calls and texts aren't going through. and she's not answering her door. and he just had a fall-out with her literally the day before, and now he's kind of paranoid. ]
Uh, okay.
[ feels like this is a test, but. he does as he's asked, scrolling through his list of contacts to find rosalind's name. in a move that would be pretty fucking socially awkward, if the person he's texting was actually there to get his message, derek just texts the word Test. without context.
it bounces back. derek - hesitates. oh.
oh.
he's not sure how to... break this. doesn't sound like he needs to, but. still gonna be hard. ]
Didn't go through.
[ feels like this is a test, but. he does as he's asked, scrolling through his list of contacts to find rosalind's name. in a move that would be pretty fucking socially awkward, if the person he's texting was actually there to get his message, derek just texts the word Test. without context.
it bounces back. derek - hesitates. oh.
oh.
he's not sure how to... break this. doesn't sound like he needs to, but. still gonna be hard. ]
Didn't go through.
[ stiles stares at his phone for a moment after it buzzes but - it's the answer he was expecting. not the one he wanted, but - he's done this twice before, with scott and with allison. stiles clenches his teeth for a moment, then taps out a response. ]
Yeah.
Not on my end either.
And she's not answering her door.
[ and his shift started like ten minutes ago and she'd probably kill him for being late. so. it's not looking good. ]
I'm gonna try to jimmy the lock.
You good with that?
I mean, in case I get caught.
[ it'll come back on derek. ]
Yeah.
Not on my end either.
And she's not answering her door.
[ and his shift started like ten minutes ago and she'd probably kill him for being late. so. it's not looking good. ]
I'm gonna try to jimmy the lock.
You good with that?
I mean, in case I get caught.
[ it'll come back on derek. ]
I know how to break into an apartment, Derek.
[ and then: ]
Delete those last texts so they can’t be used as evidence.
[ and then: ]
Delete those last texts so they can’t be used as evidence.
[ he's pretty sure LIES doesn't follow the same legal protocol as anything they're used to back home - once something's on the network, it's probably on the network forever. derek does as he's told, nevertheless, though he shares an uncertain glance with Untitled, who seems as apprehensive about derek is. or maybe she still just doesn't like him. ]
Keep me updated.
Keep me updated.
[ Fuck, the last thing Derek wants is for Tate to feel-- dissatisfied. Maybe it's the chemosignals, maybe it's just that he knows him now, but there's this acrid feeling of letting Tate down swimming in the air that works its way into Derek's lungs and doesn't let go. He looks down at him, willpower fading. He's scared of what would happen, if he let Tate leave here wanting. Worried who he'd end up with to satisfy Tate's need to be treated like shit. He can't let Tate go, can't put him with someone dangerous. That's the justification he has in his head to allow himself to be a bad alpha.
Tate takes his finger away and Derek's resistance fucking crumbles. His brows pinch, and he feels empty, sighing in frustration. Between that and the attention to his cock, it's - a lot. Too much. Derek's so much more needy than most, more desperate, more eager, more sensitive, when it comes to sex. Easily manipulated. Easy to shape. ]
I really... I really want to. You have no idea how badly I want to.
[ Derek's voice is coming out hard, padded with labored breathing. Tate's pushing forward, ignoring any of Derek's concerns, sloppy and wet and keeping Derek overwhelmed and overloaded. Cautiously, Derek sets his hand on the back of Tate's head, and he doesn't push, not yet. He feels like there's precautions that need to be taken, feels like he needs to tell Tate to say poptart if things get too rough, or something, but -
Precautions only seem to piss Tate off. Derek bites his worries down. Steadily, he adds pressure on the back of Tate's skull when he starts to pull back, not letting him come up for air. He raises his hips, just a little, sliding the tip of his cock to the back of Tate's throat again. He swallows, curls his fingers in Tate's hair tighter than before, and starts slowly, slowly moving him down his length. ]
Fuck. Fuck, just-- commit to this. If-- if you commit, so will I.
Tate takes his finger away and Derek's resistance fucking crumbles. His brows pinch, and he feels empty, sighing in frustration. Between that and the attention to his cock, it's - a lot. Too much. Derek's so much more needy than most, more desperate, more eager, more sensitive, when it comes to sex. Easily manipulated. Easy to shape. ]
I really... I really want to. You have no idea how badly I want to.
[ Derek's voice is coming out hard, padded with labored breathing. Tate's pushing forward, ignoring any of Derek's concerns, sloppy and wet and keeping Derek overwhelmed and overloaded. Cautiously, Derek sets his hand on the back of Tate's head, and he doesn't push, not yet. He feels like there's precautions that need to be taken, feels like he needs to tell Tate to say poptart if things get too rough, or something, but -
Precautions only seem to piss Tate off. Derek bites his worries down. Steadily, he adds pressure on the back of Tate's skull when he starts to pull back, not letting him come up for air. He raises his hips, just a little, sliding the tip of his cock to the back of Tate's throat again. He swallows, curls his fingers in Tate's hair tighter than before, and starts slowly, slowly moving him down his length. ]
Fuck. Fuck, just-- commit to this. If-- if you commit, so will I.
[ it takes him about twenty minutes to get back to derek - fifteen to break in, because he didn’t exactly show up ready to pick a lock, and he had to go down two floors to borrow a random object from someone, spinning some story about how his dom isn’t home to get things for him from room service and can he just borrow a bobby pin, please, and five minutes to look around rosalind’s apartment and realize she’s - gone. ]
All of her stuff is gone.
Personal things, I mean.
Closets are empty, drawers are cleaned out.
Her lab is still here though?
If she just moved somewhere else, she would have moved her lab before anything else.
All of her stuff is gone.
Personal things, I mean.
Closets are empty, drawers are cleaned out.
Her lab is still here though?
If she just moved somewhere else, she would have moved her lab before anything else.
Page 48 of 130
- «
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- 20
- 21
- 22
- 23
- 24
- 25
- 26
- 27
- 28
- 29
- 30
- 31
- 32
- 33
- 34
- 35
- 36
- 37
- 38
- 39
- 40
- 41
- 42
- 43
- 44
- 45
- 46
- 47
- 48
- 49
- 50
- 51
- 52
- 53
- 54
- 55
- 56
- 57
- 58
- 59
- 60
- 61
- 62
- 63
- 64
- 65
- 66
- 67
- 68
- 69
- 70
- 71
- 72
- 73
- 74
- 75
- 76
- 77
- 78
- 79
- 80
- 81
- 82
- 83
- 84
- 85
- 86
- 87
- 88
- 89
- 90
- 91
- 92
- 93
- 94
- 95
- 96
- 97
- 98
- 99
- 100
- 101
- 102
- 103
- 104
- 105
- 106
- 107
- 108
- 109
- 110
- 111
- 112
- 113
- 114
- 115
- 116
- 117
- 118
- 119
- 120
- 121
- 122
- 123
- 124
- 125
- 126
- 127
- 128
- 129
- 130
- »
Page 48 of 130