[ Tate is more eager than Derek thought he would be. He doesn't guide Derek's hand down so much as he directs him to do as he's told, and Derek dutifully curls his fingers around his cock, exhaling another shaky, anticipatory breath. Touching Tate so directly for the first time is... a lot, for Derek, who still hasn't really adjusted to having sex as often as this city allows, despite having fucked around so much when he first arrived. Between that, and learning how to treat sex as a duty he has to fulfil as an Alpha, and adjusting to the fact that he's fooling around with Tate, of all people, it's...
It's still intimidating, on some level. He jerks Tate off in light, exploratory touches, his own cock made harder by the feeling of Tate filling his hand. He doesn't make a sound when Tate pulls back and obliges him by turning over, even though he feels kind of empty in those few seconds where they're apart, and when they're facing each other and Tate starts giving him shit, Derek just. Pulls a face. ]
Talking too much.
[ But this is what he wanted - eye contact, intimacy, a physical version of the closeness he should have tried harder to forge with his pack back home. Derek moves his hand to Tate's ass and pulls him closer, biting back the moan that threatens to rock out of him when the movement presses Tate's thighs back around him. He closes his eyes, gives himself time to adjust, then opens them again.
Tate's nose is right in front of his. In the dim light of the moon, Derek can see how long his lashes are, and vaguely, he can see that Tate's irises aren't black, but a very dark brown. He can feel Tate's breath against his lips, he can feel his cock hard against his stomach. He feels connected, and he slowly, slowly starts to fuck the tight gap of Tate's thighs, his hand squeezing Tate's ass like he's holding on for balance. He swallows, and he lets go, and he rests his arm up Tate's back, actually - embracing him. ]
Look at me. Don't... close your eyes.
[ He said it before, but - he wants to see Tate. Just like this. ]
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It's still intimidating, on some level. He jerks Tate off in light, exploratory touches, his own cock made harder by the feeling of Tate filling his hand. He doesn't make a sound when Tate pulls back and obliges him by turning over, even though he feels kind of empty in those few seconds where they're apart, and when they're facing each other and Tate starts giving him shit, Derek just. Pulls a face. ]
Talking too much.
[ But this is what he wanted - eye contact, intimacy, a physical version of the closeness he should have tried harder to forge with his pack back home. Derek moves his hand to Tate's ass and pulls him closer, biting back the moan that threatens to rock out of him when the movement presses Tate's thighs back around him. He closes his eyes, gives himself time to adjust, then opens them again.
Tate's nose is right in front of his. In the dim light of the moon, Derek can see how long his lashes are, and vaguely, he can see that Tate's irises aren't black, but a very dark brown. He can feel Tate's breath against his lips, he can feel his cock hard against his stomach. He feels connected, and he slowly, slowly starts to fuck the tight gap of Tate's thighs, his hand squeezing Tate's ass like he's holding on for balance. He swallows, and he lets go, and he rests his arm up Tate's back, actually - embracing him. ]
Look at me. Don't... close your eyes.
[ He said it before, but - he wants to see Tate. Just like this. ]