[Derek was the one who said no secrets, but Tate can assume this is just - something not meant to be shared, something private and personal. Like how Derek doesn't share things of this nature with Stiles, they don't need to share what they do with anyone. That actually makes Tate a little bit hard to think about, the idea of privacy and something so... intimate that all they need is each other? He's romanticizing it but that's what he does, because Tate can't not go to extremes.
His fingers touch the edge of Derek's cock, trapped under the denim of his jeans and straining there with evident girth. He can't really see it but he feels it, hand moving up still before he makes use of the space growing between Derek's thighs by slipping into it. He doesn't answer the question of whether or not this moment now is the best choice, or needed by Tate, but hopes his actions speak for him. Because Derek needs it and by proxy, so does Tate.
Tate's transported back in time to the orientation, to the night of the party - to any time between or after that when he's looked at Derek and seen not just Derek but the parts that contribute to him. The slope of his shoulders, the chisel of his jaw. The features that Tate's thought about like he's thought about others, with his hand down his pants and a confliction in his head about whether or not it's okay. But now he knows it is.]
Pack privacy.
[He says with the soft start of a smile, hand groping over Derek's cock just long enough to feel it before he shifts gears and goes for the button and zipper. He isn't sure what this means still, if it's doing it for the sake of doing it or because of more - but he doesn't want to lose the chance.]
Let me do this? I want... I want to be the lead, okay? Just relax.
no subject
[Derek was the one who said no secrets, but Tate can assume this is just - something not meant to be shared, something private and personal. Like how Derek doesn't share things of this nature with Stiles, they don't need to share what they do with anyone. That actually makes Tate a little bit hard to think about, the idea of privacy and something so... intimate that all they need is each other? He's romanticizing it but that's what he does, because Tate can't not go to extremes.
His fingers touch the edge of Derek's cock, trapped under the denim of his jeans and straining there with evident girth. He can't really see it but he feels it, hand moving up still before he makes use of the space growing between Derek's thighs by slipping into it. He doesn't answer the question of whether or not this moment now is the best choice, or needed by Tate, but hopes his actions speak for him. Because Derek needs it and by proxy, so does Tate.
Tate's transported back in time to the orientation, to the night of the party - to any time between or after that when he's looked at Derek and seen not just Derek but the parts that contribute to him. The slope of his shoulders, the chisel of his jaw. The features that Tate's thought about like he's thought about others, with his hand down his pants and a confliction in his head about whether or not it's okay. But now he knows it is.]
Pack privacy.
[He says with the soft start of a smile, hand groping over Derek's cock just long enough to feel it before he shifts gears and goes for the button and zipper. He isn't sure what this means still, if it's doing it for the sake of doing it or because of more - but he doesn't want to lose the chance.]
Let me do this? I want... I want to be the lead, okay? Just relax.