[ Tate's progressing things here so quickly that Derek feels kind of blindsided by it. He's not-- resistant, but he's hesitant, like he's been thrown into the deep end of a pool he didn't expect to be swimming in. Intimidated though he might be by all this, he's not willing to stop - not when it would mean taking away the safety net he's trying to give Tate. Not when it would mean letting him down as an Alpha.
He's not looking at Tate when he very slowly, very shallowly lifts his hips, allowing him to pull his jeans down and off, and he actually closes his eyes when Tate does the same to his boxers. He opens them again when Tate touches him directly. Tate's hand is cold to the touch, in a way that's-- kind of nice, and Derek's cock twitches with a need for more attention. He's trying to stay still and hold his breath while Tate gets him to relax, but it's not working. He's just getting harder. ]
This isn't... about me.
[ This is about Tate, this is about giving Tate what he likes. Derek holds onto the edge of the platform and turns his legs in a little, then straightens them out, like he doesn't know what to do. His lips are parted and his breath is coming slower, and he's still getting harder, getting bigger, foreskin rolling back from his head with each stroke, each sensitive touch to the tip. Derek breathes in, holds it, and breathes out, and he drags his eyes away from his cock to finally look directly at Tate. ]
But... uh...
[ Derek - hesitates, again, like saying what he might like, or what he might want, would be ultimately selfish. It takes him a second, and he ultimately just... asks for more in the most roundabout way he can. ]
no subject
He's not looking at Tate when he very slowly, very shallowly lifts his hips, allowing him to pull his jeans down and off, and he actually closes his eyes when Tate does the same to his boxers. He opens them again when Tate touches him directly. Tate's hand is cold to the touch, in a way that's-- kind of nice, and Derek's cock twitches with a need for more attention. He's trying to stay still and hold his breath while Tate gets him to relax, but it's not working. He's just getting harder. ]
This isn't... about me.
[ This is about Tate, this is about giving Tate what he likes. Derek holds onto the edge of the platform and turns his legs in a little, then straightens them out, like he doesn't know what to do. His lips are parted and his breath is coming slower, and he's still getting harder, getting bigger, foreskin rolling back from his head with each stroke, each sensitive touch to the tip. Derek breathes in, holds it, and breathes out, and he drags his eyes away from his cock to finally look directly at Tate. ]
But... uh...
[ Derek - hesitates, again, like saying what he might like, or what he might want, would be ultimately selfish. It takes him a second, and he ultimately just... asks for more in the most roundabout way he can. ]
What do you like?