[Tate only slightly regrets telling Derek to film, if only because he keeps looking up at his device with a perverted sort of intrigue when he catches glimpse of it in Derek's hand. He's taping him, taping the moment, and that's oddly liberating and also wholly terrifying. But Derek's not about to share this with anyone, as made clear by how he declares Tate his. He likes that? He likes that a lot because he can close his eyes and believe it, only batting open his eyelashes when he feels the thick of Derek's cockhead jut against him.

Thankfully still loose in part to Derek's fingers, Tate stretches open around his cock easily. The slow motion pries him apart and his ass is slick still, welcoming him in with a tight squeeze. It hurts once Derek is in past a certain point, a twinge of pain that feels like a day old sprain inside his abdomen - and then a burning feeling as his hole spreads wider still for the girth of his cock. Tate's lips have fallen to part and he wets them with his tongue, the rhythm of his breathing changing to something more shallow as he adjusts to the slow intrusion.]

Shhhhhit.

[His head lolls back and his fingers drag against the seat. It feels just as good as it did before and just as cramped and claustrophobic. Tate jerks himself off a little faster and whines Derek's name a few times beneath his breath. This is good, but it's not what he wanted. He wants more.]

I know you've been hard since the restaurant. And I know what you want. So you better put that all the way in me this time.