[ Hard to hide any kind of sound from Derek, especially as alert as he is right now. Kavinsky's whine only makes Derek harder, coats the inside of his ass with more pre, and he drops his hand, dusty from the wall he wrecked, to grip Kavinsky's other hip. He puts his weight on his knees, scratches up Kavinsky's hips with the vice-like grip he has on him, and the next time he pulls back, the next time he thrusts into him, he feels - bigger. ]
I'll-- I'll take care of you.
[ Fucking Kavinsky used to be a show of power. A show of pride. He'd make him come, take out his anger on him, they'd mess with each other, talk shit all the way through it. Derek used to try as hard as he could to last, to make it longer, even though Kavinsky's been kryptonite for his self-control for years, now. It's-- not like that, now. He's not trying anything. Just wants this connection. Wants to feel good. Wants both of them to lose their fucking minds.
He pounds into Kavinsky again, and he's thicker still, stretching Kavinsky to his limit as his rhythm turns irregular with each frantic slam of his hips. He lifts Kavinsky's ass from the bed a little, pulls him forward and closer so his head drops against the mattress, and he doubles over as he fucks harder, faster, bending forward over him until they're nose to nose. ]
Take care of you. Give you anything you want. All of it. Whatever you need. Always.
[ He locks his jaw against Kavinsky's neck, the points of his canine teeth brushing dangerously close to his windpipe. He doesn't bite down, doesn't make this something he can't take back - but he bites with enough pressure to leave a mark, Kavinsky's skin now imprinted for a few days with the decidedly wolf-like impressions Derek left there. The growl from the barrel of his chest, deep and possessive and protective, makes his declaration of ownership clear even without the hiss of his voice escaping through his teeth. ]
no subject
I'll-- I'll take care of you.
[ Fucking Kavinsky used to be a show of power. A show of pride. He'd make him come, take out his anger on him, they'd mess with each other, talk shit all the way through it. Derek used to try as hard as he could to last, to make it longer, even though Kavinsky's been kryptonite for his self-control for years, now. It's-- not like that, now. He's not trying anything. Just wants this connection. Wants to feel good. Wants both of them to lose their fucking minds.
He pounds into Kavinsky again, and he's thicker still, stretching Kavinsky to his limit as his rhythm turns irregular with each frantic slam of his hips. He lifts Kavinsky's ass from the bed a little, pulls him forward and closer so his head drops against the mattress, and he doubles over as he fucks harder, faster, bending forward over him until they're nose to nose. ]
Take care of you. Give you anything you want. All of it. Whatever you need. Always.
[ He locks his jaw against Kavinsky's neck, the points of his canine teeth brushing dangerously close to his windpipe. He doesn't bite down, doesn't make this something he can't take back - but he bites with enough pressure to leave a mark, Kavinsky's skin now imprinted for a few days with the decidedly wolf-like impressions Derek left there. The growl from the barrel of his chest, deep and possessive and protective, makes his declaration of ownership clear even without the hiss of his voice escaping through his teeth. ]
Mine, Joseph.