[Tate's really only fucked a set of thighs before but became pretty familiar with the act albeit through that one-sided view. There's a lack of lube and soft bedsheets in the equation right now but nonetheless he still feels an anticipatory tug in his gut - he scrambles to acquiesce to Derek's request by relaxing back and letting him position him more soundly against the dune. He blinks up at Derek and wets his lips, knees turning inward with a flex of muscle. With a flex of want.
His head lolls back and he looks up to the patch of sky beyond Derek, blinking at it for a few steadying breaths - a few hammering heartbeats - and then drops his gaze to look at him again. It's like the first time all over again, a weird sense of shyness to him as they try something new. But Derek's - warm, he's safe, and Tate's guard stays nonexistent. His lashes flutter when they grind together, and he lifts his hips in return.]
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His head lolls back and he looks up to the patch of sky beyond Derek, blinking at it for a few steadying breaths - a few hammering heartbeats - and then drops his gaze to look at him again. It's like the first time all over again, a weird sense of shyness to him as they try something new. But Derek's - warm, he's safe, and Tate's guard stays nonexistent. His lashes flutter when they grind together, and he lifts his hips in return.]
I'm waiting.