confiscated: (⇀ feathered edges)
Brooks Myers ([personal profile] confiscated) wrote in [personal profile] calloused 2020-01-11 09:22 am (UTC)

[Tate doesn't say anything to that - he likes hearing it, and feels somewhat surprised. He feels a sick sense of satisfaction, though, a warm thud in his chest because months may have gone by but he's still trying to stick it to a kid who's long gone by showing him that he's wormed his way even closer to Derek than ever before. That Derek's thinking of him instead when he fucks someone - even though there's something about that that could be bad, too. Stiles is still a sensitive subject, maybe he avoids him on purpose. Maybe Tate's just second pick.

He doesn't think about that. Doesn't even begin to - not when Derek's got his hand around their cocks and keeps giving him something tight to fuck up into. He feels the weight of Derek shift forward, feels the sun shaded from his eyes by his body. Tate's panting now, lifting a hand to Derek's side and grazing his nails over it as he works them together. Shit - shit, shit. He's cursing lightly under his breath, eyelids fluttering again and eyes nearly rolling back.]


Keep going - shit. This way you can come on me if you want. Where do you want to?

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