[ Tate looks good like this - braced against the wall, ass out like a slut. There's a lot that Derek should be thinking about right now, things worth confronting and things he shouldn't ignore, but he's throwing himself further and further into what they're doing, stoking his arousal with thoughts about fucking Tate until he screams and making him come without letting him touch himself. When Tate turns to look at him from over his shoulder, it's on a whim that Derek leans forward and kisses him again, arm around his chest to exert his strength and hold him still. Every part of him is forceful, now, from the tension in his muscles and the scratch of his beard to the demanding, almost selfish nature of how he kisses him.
Derek leans back and drops to his knees, water running down his hair and in a river down his spine. He sets his hands against Tate's ass and pries him apart, running the tip of his tongue in one quick, long stroke from the base of his balls to the rim of his hole. He gives Tate a second, maybe two, to get accustomed to the feeling before he's fucking him with his tongue, long, rapid swirls paired with hard squeezes of his hands, and when he closes his eyes he just - loses himself to this. ]
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Derek leans back and drops to his knees, water running down his hair and in a river down his spine. He sets his hands against Tate's ass and pries him apart, running the tip of his tongue in one quick, long stroke from the base of his balls to the rim of his hole. He gives Tate a second, maybe two, to get accustomed to the feeling before he's fucking him with his tongue, long, rapid swirls paired with hard squeezes of his hands, and when he closes his eyes he just - loses himself to this. ]