[ The second Kavinsky touches his knot, Derek becomes this incomprehensible, overstimulated mess. He's making quiet, whiny noises, shameless and red-faced as he shuts his eyes tight and leans against Kavinsky's forehead for support, all pretense of power and dominance sapping from him like it was never there. It's - impossible for him to describe just how fucking good it feels being touched there. His nerves feel fucking everything, raw and exposed like a live wire, and the slightest brush of Kavinsky's fingertips make him feel like he's been edged for fucking days. All he wants to do is come. His entire body is trembling.
He doesn't make it easy for Kavinsky to stretch himself out a little more, but it's not intentional. He just can't help but grit his teeth, bite down on the insides of his cheeks and buck his hips forward in unbidden spasms and reactionary pumps. Derek's alternating between growling, all dark and canine and intimidating, and begging Kavinsky for him to help him, for him to figure this out. He's whispering Kavinsky's name, Joey, over and over and over again, pleading and pleasured and overwhelmed with need. He says Kavinsky's name like he trusts him to make this as good as it can be. Like the trusts him at all.
He grinds against Kavinsky's fingers, trying to push in deep, blind and animal. When Kavinsky takes his hand away, it's just enough leverage for Derek to really, really, really push - he drops his entire body weight down onto Joey, moving his hands to slide underneath his back and pull him into a tight bear hug of an embrace. He's trying as hard as he can to calm down, to go slow if that's what Joey needs, but keeping Kavinsky still beneath him and using the force of his lower body to just move seems to be working. Derek's hot like he's run a marathon, his skin radiating with heat, as he just presses, feet anchored on the mattress for balance, fingers drawing fresh white lines down Kavinsky's spine -
One staggered, lucky thrust, and Derek's-- in. He knots Kavinsky entirely, ties to him and keeps him there and just fucking throbs in him, filling and hot and wet and alive. Derek's just-- out of it, moaning against Kavinsky's throat and ear and jawline between peppered kisses and accidental scratches of his teeth, and christ, if this doesn't sound like he's feeling the best he's ever felt. Derek's thighs squeeze Kavinsky, keeps him close, every breath he takes making Kavinsky's cock grind against his abs, flexed and as rock hard as the rest of him. Derek's not thinking, he's just-- touching, staying close, barely holding back the urge to shoot. He can feel it, though. He's not going to last - his balls are aching, his stomach's doing flips. ]
G-Gonna-- fucking--
[ He wants them to come at the same time. Wants Kavinsky to blow alongside him. His voice is weak and staggered from the effort of flexing his dick and struggling to tighten up against the overwhelming, rising need to breed, but he wants them to both fucking lose their minds together. Wants this moment to be theirs forever. ]
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He doesn't make it easy for Kavinsky to stretch himself out a little more, but it's not intentional. He just can't help but grit his teeth, bite down on the insides of his cheeks and buck his hips forward in unbidden spasms and reactionary pumps. Derek's alternating between growling, all dark and canine and intimidating, and begging Kavinsky for him to help him, for him to figure this out. He's whispering Kavinsky's name, Joey, over and over and over again, pleading and pleasured and overwhelmed with need. He says Kavinsky's name like he trusts him to make this as good as it can be. Like the trusts him at all.
He grinds against Kavinsky's fingers, trying to push in deep, blind and animal. When Kavinsky takes his hand away, it's just enough leverage for Derek to really, really, really push - he drops his entire body weight down onto Joey, moving his hands to slide underneath his back and pull him into a tight bear hug of an embrace. He's trying as hard as he can to calm down, to go slow if that's what Joey needs, but keeping Kavinsky still beneath him and using the force of his lower body to just move seems to be working. Derek's hot like he's run a marathon, his skin radiating with heat, as he just presses, feet anchored on the mattress for balance, fingers drawing fresh white lines down Kavinsky's spine -
One staggered, lucky thrust, and Derek's-- in. He knots Kavinsky entirely, ties to him and keeps him there and just fucking throbs in him, filling and hot and wet and alive. Derek's just-- out of it, moaning against Kavinsky's throat and ear and jawline between peppered kisses and accidental scratches of his teeth, and christ, if this doesn't sound like he's feeling the best he's ever felt. Derek's thighs squeeze Kavinsky, keeps him close, every breath he takes making Kavinsky's cock grind against his abs, flexed and as rock hard as the rest of him. Derek's not thinking, he's just-- touching, staying close, barely holding back the urge to shoot. He can feel it, though. He's not going to last - his balls are aching, his stomach's doing flips. ]
G-Gonna-- fucking--
[ He wants them to come at the same time. Wants Kavinsky to blow alongside him. His voice is weak and staggered from the effort of flexing his dick and struggling to tighten up against the overwhelming, rising need to breed, but he wants them to both fucking lose their minds together. Wants this moment to be theirs forever. ]