[ The second Derek realizes Kavinsky isn't going to strip them down fast enough on his own, impatience takes over. He lets out a soft, frustrated growl from the back of his throat and starts tugging at the last few inches of Kavinsky's clothes to tear them off sooner, and when he leaves Derek to kick off his underwear on his own, Derek could snipe or complain or be petty in some way, but -
But instead he just fucks up hard into Kavinsky's hand, breathing out rough as he bottoms out in the soft skin of his palm. He rolls his hips into Kavinsky's fist, slick with pre, and he only stops just long enough to kick the rest of his clothes off onto the floor, naked and overbearing as he pins Kavinsky against the bed with his silhouette alone. His hands find K's jaw, his thumbs smooth over his cheekbones, and he presses their foreheads together, trying to catch his breath while he talks. ]
Joey - fucking doesn't mean much to me anymore. Hard for it to feel like anything, after...
[ Derek hesitates, shakes his head and trails off, not even sure how to finish the thought and hoping he doesn't need to. He's always had a complicated relationship with sex, both back home and here - but it's become something casual and meaningless and disparate to his identity. He finds love and comfort and satisfaction with his boyfriend, he finds a chance to be a caretaker and a giver with some of the other people he knows, but sex with Kavinsky, christ, it's - it's something. He finds something primal and connected and rawly indefinable with him. Something more and more emotionally grand the more they do this. Something that always gets Derek's nerves shot. ]
But it's different with you.
[ One last kiss, hard enough to leave an impression of his teeth in Kavinsky's bottom lip, and then he's done. He drops both hands and puts them on Kavinsky's bare thighs, pressing against them to make him spread his legs. He lifts two fingers to Kavinsky's lips after, held out in a silent command to suck. He told him he didn't want to wait - he's going to wreck this guy. ]
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But instead he just fucks up hard into Kavinsky's hand, breathing out rough as he bottoms out in the soft skin of his palm. He rolls his hips into Kavinsky's fist, slick with pre, and he only stops just long enough to kick the rest of his clothes off onto the floor, naked and overbearing as he pins Kavinsky against the bed with his silhouette alone. His hands find K's jaw, his thumbs smooth over his cheekbones, and he presses their foreheads together, trying to catch his breath while he talks. ]
Joey - fucking doesn't mean much to me anymore. Hard for it to feel like anything, after...
[ Derek hesitates, shakes his head and trails off, not even sure how to finish the thought and hoping he doesn't need to. He's always had a complicated relationship with sex, both back home and here - but it's become something casual and meaningless and disparate to his identity. He finds love and comfort and satisfaction with his boyfriend, he finds a chance to be a caretaker and a giver with some of the other people he knows, but sex with Kavinsky, christ, it's - it's something. He finds something primal and connected and rawly indefinable with him. Something more and more emotionally grand the more they do this. Something that always gets Derek's nerves shot. ]
But it's different with you.
[ One last kiss, hard enough to leave an impression of his teeth in Kavinsky's bottom lip, and then he's done. He drops both hands and puts them on Kavinsky's bare thighs, pressing against them to make him spread his legs. He lifts two fingers to Kavinsky's lips after, held out in a silent command to suck. He told him he didn't want to wait - he's going to wreck this guy. ]