[Sand's soft until you're thrust down in it, and it hits you in the back with the punch of concrete. Tate lays back anyway, watching Derek make quick work of his belt with eager hands and he can't say he didn't expect this or doesn't want it. He does, he's nodding in agreement because he gets it. They just did this but Derek didn't get to blow his load so far as Tate knows, and that whole ride home must've been straining misery. He reaches down to cup Derek through his jeans, just to get a gauge of it.]
You can just admit you're hot for me, it's cool.
[It's meant to be a joke, eye-roll worthy, but Derek's knuckle grazes him and he's still pretty sensitive so he goes breathy with a grunt. His head lolls back and sand slides down the dune all around him, ready to get in all the wrong places and make a moment of passion something full of friction and regret later. His heart is quicker, just like his breathing.]
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You can just admit you're hot for me, it's cool.
[It's meant to be a joke, eye-roll worthy, but Derek's knuckle grazes him and he's still pretty sensitive so he goes breathy with a grunt. His head lolls back and sand slides down the dune all around him, ready to get in all the wrong places and make a moment of passion something full of friction and regret later. His heart is quicker, just like his breathing.]