[ that initial flash of uncertainty isn't there anymore when derek sets his teeth back against stiles' neck again, the trust and the love and the desire stiles feels for him overpowering any hardwired instinct. he can feel the pressure resting behind derek's jaw, in the sharp points of his teeth, testing the give of his flesh but careful not to break it. stiles swallows hard, gripping a little more at derek's side, fingertips slipping through a little bit of soap that the spray from the showerhead hasn't quite manages to wash away.
derek bites harder. stiles hisses quietly - it doesn't hurt, but he takes one of his hands off the wall and reaches back quickly, clumsily pushing his fingers into derek's wet hair and gripping gently, not to stop him - but to just hold him there for a second. he doesn't want derek to bite him. he just wants him to stay. he wants every point of connection he can get from him, and he's taking too fucking long to just fuck him already. stiles breathes out, shaky and shuddered, and pushes his hips back a little more, grinding his ass against the thick line of derek's cock.
he goes easily when derek pushes up against him, pressing him into the wall. stiles lets go of derek's hair, slides the hand that's already braced against the wall out a little so his arm isn't crushed between his chest and the tile, moving both of his arms so they rest slightly above his head, wrists overlapping. the tile is cold in comparison to the encompassing heat spread out across his back, and the start contrast is enough to send a hard shiver rattling down stiles' spine just in time for derek to slide the head of his cock down the cleft of his ass until it catches. stiles tenses, but it's not even close to being negative reaction, just - anticipatory.
there hasn't been that much prep. stiles was absolutely, definitely into derek's mouth on him just a minute or so ago, but he's pretty sure that's nowhere near enough preparation - and yet most of him doesn't care in the slightest. there's a tiny corner of his brain left yet that hasn't been overridden by love and lust and the desperate need to fuck, but stiles, for once, doesn't listen to the rational part of himself.
he whines. derek adds a little pressure behind the press of his cock and the sound that comes out of stiles is thin and a little tense, and it surprises him because it's not a sound he intended to make, but it's out and it's there and stiles swallows around the rest of it. he feels - pinned, with derek's weight pressing into his back, holding him flush to the shower wall, his breath hot against his ear, lips trailing down his neck. it feels like the first time, back in his old apartment, when derek had held him down with a fist to his chest. stiles hadn't felt scared then, and he doesn't feel scared now, either. he feels safe and protected and wanted, and it makes his knees weak.
derek tells him that he loves him. stiles fingers curl into loose fists above his head. his heart hurts, but it's the good kind of hurt, the kind where he's just filled with so much love that there just simply isn't enough room for it inside of him. stiles' eyes close and he leans his forehead against the wall, taking one of his arms down with the intention of reaching back to pull derek closer at the same time that he tilts himself way to make room.
stiles' fingers don't make contact with any part of derek, stilled by rock of his hips, the slow push of just the very tip of his cock against his hole, spreading him open with a thickness stiles - honestly isn't ready for. it... hurts. not a lot, not by any amount stiles can't handle right now, but it's more than the mild discomfort he's grown used to by now, eased by the push and the spread of derek's fingers. stiles tenses up, clenches his teeth a little, arches his back just slightly like he means to get away, but it's just instinct, and he fights it. he holds himself still, blowing out a thin breath against the tiles, thighs tense.
already, it feels - different. it's a different kind of heat without the thin layer of latex, a different kind of closeness, and derek's barely even inside of him yet. stiles decides immediately that they're done with protection from this point forward - as long as derek's okay with it, then they're done with it, because he doesn't want to give up this kind of connection now that he has it, now that he knows what it feels like, and he barely knows.
stiles makes a soft, strangled sound in the back of his throat, like he wants to say something, tell derek everything he's thinking, everything he's feeling, but it just comes out as this quiet, desperate note, his hovering hand moving to slide over the back of derek's wrist as he loops his arm over his stomach, fingers spreading out over his knuckles. he can feel derek spreading him apart, hand on his ass, claws resting against his flesh - and all he wants to do is push back. derek pushes forward, rocks his hips a little more - and it hurts. the stretch is - a lot, more than stiles is used to without being worked up to it. his grips tightly at the back of derek's wrist, unable to hold back the thin, strained whine that slips through his teeth, eyes squeezing shut for a moment. ]
Ah— don't— [ he sounds a little rushed, slightly out of breath even though he hasn't really done anything, but he doesn't want derek to stop. he doesn't want him to pull out. ] Don't take it, please don't take it.
[ the pain, he means. he's not even sure if it would cross derek's mind to take it away from him, but he desperately, desperately doesn't want him to, and it comes through in his voice. stiles opens his eyes, and he breathes, in and out and in and out, his grip on derek's wrist easing gradually, every muscle in his body easing gradually. he just needs a minute, just needs a second.
stiles tilts his head slightly, forehead still resting against the wall, but he can see derek at his shoulder out of the corner of his eye. he can see the glow of his eyes, feels drawn to it enough that he turns his head properly to look at him, which puts him close enough to kiss him, even if it's just the corner of his mouth. ]
I love you. [ he kisses the edge of his mouth again, presses another one to his chin, and very, very carefully, he starts to ease his hips back in tiny, tiny pulses, fucking himself on derek's cock millimeter by millimeter. his voice sounds a little thin, words murmured and slightly too close together, but he doesn't care. he knows derek will hear him, he knows derek will understand. ] C'mon, it's okay. M'fine, it's okay, just - slowly. I love you.
[ stiles wants him to stay. derek's teeth, razor-sharp and serrated, scratch subtle, white lines down the thin, easily tearable skin of his neck, and stiles still just wants him to stay. derek breathes out in heavy, hard pants, crooning little moans and grunts against him as stiles' fingers tangle in his hair, and his whole body feels like an exposed nerve ending. he's heightened and sensitive and alive. the full moon itches at his skin, even from here, hidden inside and out of its reach. he's not coherent enough to wonder how much worse this could be if they were under the full burst of its light.
the noise stiles makes when he's forced up against the wall is almost enough to make derek come. that little noise, tense and thin, like he's fucking submissive, like strong-willed, independent stiles is helpless and horny, all for him - it's almost too much for derek to bear. it's breathtaking. derek wants more. he pins him to the wall even tighter.
stiles makes another noise as derek enters more of him, and then another, and another, and the tiles shudder beneath derek's feet as his leg trembles, bouncing his heel against them, thudding a repetitive echo through the shower. he curls his toes and his fingertips and makes himself calm down, pressing his cheek against stiles shoulder for support and scratching him with sharp, wet stubble. stiles' hand pressed over his makes derek feel like he's melting.
derek pushes in more, and more, and more, one millimetre, then another, and stiles suddenly whines out in pain, making derek go completely stock still with an alarmed start. his mind is telling him, distantly, with whatever capability it has for coherent thought left, that he needs to pull out before stiles hurts - but stiles says don't take it, stiles tells him to stay, stiles tells him he wants to feel the pain, and derek almost loses his fucking mind.
he nods. he nods, even though stiles can't really see him, and he kisses up his back again, over his scar, up to his shoulder. stiles reaches back and gives him a lopsided, incomplete kiss, and when he tells him he loves him, derek just - whines.
stiles fucks himself on derek.
it's a lot. it's too much, when derek's so hypersensitive already, so desperate for touch. derek's heaving breaths against stiles' ear, and it's hard to say if he sounds like he's drowning, desperately trying to stay above the water, or if he's been hunting like an animal, running on all fours through the woods until his body gave out from exertion. he rests against stiles' shoulder and looks like he's the one getting fucked, with half-lidded eyes glossed over with lust. stiles eases back on derek's cock and derek looks like he's having a fucking religious experience. ]
More. Stiles.
[ he's done his best to make this easy for stiles, but - he - can't, not anymore. he needs to fuck stiles, needs him now. derek stands up, stretching out his spine. derek takes the arm he has wrapped around stiles' stomach and splays it out on his lower back, instead, pushing him down and silently urging him to arch his back. his other hand reaches up to stiles' hair, grabbing a fistful of it, and lightly, very lightly, he pulls, arching stiles' neck back. he pushes forward with his hips, fucking stiles into the wall with one hard, brutal jolt, and as he fucks a full inch and a half of his cock past the rim of his entrance, Derek's eyes roll into the back of his head.
he's swearing. maybe. he can't tell, he might have blacked out for a second. derek's chest hurts. roughly, derek starts to find a rhythm, dragging the head of his cock back through the tight passage of stiles' hole, pulling out to the ring. he grunts, pushes his hand forward, pressing stiles' face against the wall. ]
Stiles--
[ he's starting to swell. he can feel it - not just at the base of his cock, but all of him. he's getting bigger, thicker, inside stiles. derek's hips are moving on their own accord, getting faster, pressing deeper, stretching out stiles well past his body's limit, and the more he does, the more of him that fills stiles up, the bigger, more difficult it gets. derek hunches forward again, heaving those same heavy, almost violent breaths, and he tugs stiles' hair again to have better access to his throat from the side. he kisses him, just once, violent but tender. he's barely half inside of stiles, and he feels like he's too much for him.
but - ]
Stiles, there's-- more of me.
[ and - and he doesn't know if stiles is going to be able to handle it, he doesn't know if it's going to hurt too much. being knotted. derek keeps fucking him, because he can't fucking help it, he doesn't think he can stop, not now, but maybe-- maybe it's already too much. ]
[ derek asks him for more. derek tells him he wants more and all stiles can do is tell him he knows - because he does. because he wants more too. the words spill out of him on the end of a shuddery sigh, breathy and a little desperate as stiles continues to roll his hips back in tiny thrusts, driving himself just a little further back onto derek's cock each time, centimeter by deliciously agonizing centimeter. all he wants to do is sink all the way down, take as much of derek's cock as his body will physically allow, but the stretch is already tight, painful but - tolerable.
derek straightens up, and though he's no even half inside yet, it changes the angle of his cock just enough that stile' breath catches for a moment, muscles tensing not with pain, but with pleasure. he makes a soft sound, tilting his head forward against to lean it against the tiles and curling his toes. derek takes his arm away, slides it out from between his stomach and the wall, sets it against his lower back instead, keeping him pinned. stiles - kind of hates it, only because it means he can't keep fucking himself on derek's cock, not while he's being held in place. he whines quietly, though it's a frustrated sound more than anything else, but it melts into a soft moan as derek's fingers sink into his hair.
he's not expecting him to pull - but there's no resistance. stiles arches his neck, shoulder blades inching together, his lower spine bending subtly over the solid line of derek's forearm holding him down. and derek fucks him. he pushes into stiles, hips snapping forward hard and sudden and unforgiving, and it's only and inch, maybe two, but it's more than stiles expects all at once, and it hurts. he bites his teeth together hard, biting back and tense groan, the tendons in his neck flexing with the tension that snaps through his shoulders. and then the pain starts to ease. derek keeps fucking into him, sliding just those few inches in and out, forward and back, and stiles' jaw relaxes just as derek guides his head forward and pushes his cheek into the wall.
stiles opens his mouth, but all that comes out of him is a soft, sighed oh, one of his hands dropping to down to circle around his own cock, fingers closed tight over the tip. derek says his name, and stiles' entire body shudders with the sound of it. he can feel himself getting tighter around derek he more derek fucks into him - but that's not it. he's not getting tighter, derek's just getting bigger, thicker and harder and the stretch as derek sinks deeper—
for a moment, stiles feels like he can't breathe. he feels overwhelmed, but it's not the kind of overwhelmed that makes him feel panicky or scared or out of control. it's just - a lot, but stiles has never wanted anything or anyone so fucking badly in his entire life. stiles draws in a quiet gasp of a breath, and even though the slide of derek's cock is starting to hurt again, stiles just keeps meeting his hips with small, measured backwards pushes of his own.
stiles pumps his cock with long, solid strokes, nodding his head as best as he can with derek still holding his cheek to the wall. there's water in his eyes, dropping down from his hair, collecting in his eyelashes, running down the side of his nose to the corner of his mouth, down his chin, his throat.
he's done his research. after scott was bitten in the woods and started exhibiting strange behavior, stiles dedicated his time to figuring out what it was that was affecting his friend, and once he'd figured it out, he'd only researched further. myths and legends and lore - anything he could get his hands on, regardless of credibility. he researched wolves, too, their behavior, habits, their biology, all of it just in case. all of it, just because he knew if he didn't, nobody else would.
stiles has - some idea of what might be happening now, what is about to happen if he doesn't stop derek now — but he doesn't want to stop. the very last thing stiles wants to do right now is end this before it's even really started. this - is part of derek, part of who he is, influenced by the full moon or now - and stiles loves him. stiles loves every part of him, wants every part of him, ever side, man and wolf and everything in between.
stiles squeezes his fist around the base of his cock, pushes his hips back with a brief clench of his teeth. he reaches back, pawing at derek's flank again as he fucks into him, hand shaking, words a little slurred. ]
It's okay. It's okay, I want it, I want this. I want you. Derek—
[ he wants everything derek is, everything derek wants to give him, he'll withstand and work through whatever pain to get to that sweet, warm, bone-melting pleasure derek has never failed to deliver. ]
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no subject
derek bites harder. stiles hisses quietly - it doesn't hurt, but he takes one of his hands off the wall and reaches back quickly, clumsily pushing his fingers into derek's wet hair and gripping gently, not to stop him - but to just hold him there for a second. he doesn't want derek to bite him. he just wants him to stay. he wants every point of connection he can get from him, and he's taking too fucking long to just fuck him already. stiles breathes out, shaky and shuddered, and pushes his hips back a little more, grinding his ass against the thick line of derek's cock.
he goes easily when derek pushes up against him, pressing him into the wall. stiles lets go of derek's hair, slides the hand that's already braced against the wall out a little so his arm isn't crushed between his chest and the tile, moving both of his arms so they rest slightly above his head, wrists overlapping. the tile is cold in comparison to the encompassing heat spread out across his back, and the start contrast is enough to send a hard shiver rattling down stiles' spine just in time for derek to slide the head of his cock down the cleft of his ass until it catches. stiles tenses, but it's not even close to being negative reaction, just - anticipatory.
there hasn't been that much prep. stiles was absolutely, definitely into derek's mouth on him just a minute or so ago, but he's pretty sure that's nowhere near enough preparation - and yet most of him doesn't care in the slightest. there's a tiny corner of his brain left yet that hasn't been overridden by love and lust and the desperate need to fuck, but stiles, for once, doesn't listen to the rational part of himself.
he whines. derek adds a little pressure behind the press of his cock and the sound that comes out of stiles is thin and a little tense, and it surprises him because it's not a sound he intended to make, but it's out and it's there and stiles swallows around the rest of it. he feels - pinned, with derek's weight pressing into his back, holding him flush to the shower wall, his breath hot against his ear, lips trailing down his neck. it feels like the first time, back in his old apartment, when derek had held him down with a fist to his chest. stiles hadn't felt scared then, and he doesn't feel scared now, either. he feels safe and protected and wanted, and it makes his knees weak.
derek tells him that he loves him. stiles fingers curl into loose fists above his head. his heart hurts, but it's the good kind of hurt, the kind where he's just filled with so much love that there just simply isn't enough room for it inside of him. stiles' eyes close and he leans his forehead against the wall, taking one of his arms down with the intention of reaching back to pull derek closer at the same time that he tilts himself way to make room.
stiles' fingers don't make contact with any part of derek, stilled by rock of his hips, the slow push of just the very tip of his cock against his hole, spreading him open with a thickness stiles - honestly isn't ready for. it... hurts. not a lot, not by any amount stiles can't handle right now, but it's more than the mild discomfort he's grown used to by now, eased by the push and the spread of derek's fingers. stiles tenses up, clenches his teeth a little, arches his back just slightly like he means to get away, but it's just instinct, and he fights it. he holds himself still, blowing out a thin breath against the tiles, thighs tense.
already, it feels - different. it's a different kind of heat without the thin layer of latex, a different kind of closeness, and derek's barely even inside of him yet. stiles decides immediately that they're done with protection from this point forward - as long as derek's okay with it, then they're done with it, because he doesn't want to give up this kind of connection now that he has it, now that he knows what it feels like, and he barely knows.
stiles makes a soft, strangled sound in the back of his throat, like he wants to say something, tell derek everything he's thinking, everything he's feeling, but it just comes out as this quiet, desperate note, his hovering hand moving to slide over the back of derek's wrist as he loops his arm over his stomach, fingers spreading out over his knuckles. he can feel derek spreading him apart, hand on his ass, claws resting against his flesh - and all he wants to do is push back. derek pushes forward, rocks his hips a little more - and it hurts. the stretch is - a lot, more than stiles is used to without being worked up to it. his grips tightly at the back of derek's wrist, unable to hold back the thin, strained whine that slips through his teeth, eyes squeezing shut for a moment. ]
Ah— don't— [ he sounds a little rushed, slightly out of breath even though he hasn't really done anything, but he doesn't want derek to stop. he doesn't want him to pull out. ] Don't take it, please don't take it.
[ the pain, he means. he's not even sure if it would cross derek's mind to take it away from him, but he desperately, desperately doesn't want him to, and it comes through in his voice. stiles opens his eyes, and he breathes, in and out and in and out, his grip on derek's wrist easing gradually, every muscle in his body easing gradually. he just needs a minute, just needs a second.
stiles tilts his head slightly, forehead still resting against the wall, but he can see derek at his shoulder out of the corner of his eye. he can see the glow of his eyes, feels drawn to it enough that he turns his head properly to look at him, which puts him close enough to kiss him, even if it's just the corner of his mouth. ]
I love you. [ he kisses the edge of his mouth again, presses another one to his chin, and very, very carefully, he starts to ease his hips back in tiny, tiny pulses, fucking himself on derek's cock millimeter by millimeter. his voice sounds a little thin, words murmured and slightly too close together, but he doesn't care. he knows derek will hear him, he knows derek will understand. ] C'mon, it's okay. M'fine, it's okay, just - slowly. I love you.
no subject
the noise stiles makes when he's forced up against the wall is almost enough to make derek come. that little noise, tense and thin, like he's fucking submissive, like strong-willed, independent stiles is helpless and horny, all for him - it's almost too much for derek to bear. it's breathtaking. derek wants more. he pins him to the wall even tighter.
stiles makes another noise as derek enters more of him, and then another, and another, and the tiles shudder beneath derek's feet as his leg trembles, bouncing his heel against them, thudding a repetitive echo through the shower. he curls his toes and his fingertips and makes himself calm down, pressing his cheek against stiles shoulder for support and scratching him with sharp, wet stubble. stiles' hand pressed over his makes derek feel like he's melting.
derek pushes in more, and more, and more, one millimetre, then another, and stiles suddenly whines out in pain, making derek go completely stock still with an alarmed start. his mind is telling him, distantly, with whatever capability it has for coherent thought left, that he needs to pull out before stiles hurts - but stiles says don't take it, stiles tells him to stay, stiles tells him he wants to feel the pain, and derek almost loses his fucking mind.
he nods. he nods, even though stiles can't really see him, and he kisses up his back again, over his scar, up to his shoulder. stiles reaches back and gives him a lopsided, incomplete kiss, and when he tells him he loves him, derek just - whines.
stiles fucks himself on derek.
it's a lot. it's too much, when derek's so hypersensitive already, so desperate for touch. derek's heaving breaths against stiles' ear, and it's hard to say if he sounds like he's drowning, desperately trying to stay above the water, or if he's been hunting like an animal, running on all fours through the woods until his body gave out from exertion. he rests against stiles' shoulder and looks like he's the one getting fucked, with half-lidded eyes glossed over with lust. stiles eases back on derek's cock and derek looks like he's having a fucking religious experience. ]
More. Stiles.
[ he's done his best to make this easy for stiles, but - he - can't, not anymore. he needs to fuck stiles, needs him now. derek stands up, stretching out his spine. derek takes the arm he has wrapped around stiles' stomach and splays it out on his lower back, instead, pushing him down and silently urging him to arch his back. his other hand reaches up to stiles' hair, grabbing a fistful of it, and lightly, very lightly, he pulls, arching stiles' neck back. he pushes forward with his hips, fucking stiles into the wall with one hard, brutal jolt, and as he fucks a full inch and a half of his cock past the rim of his entrance, Derek's eyes roll into the back of his head.
he's swearing. maybe. he can't tell, he might have blacked out for a second. derek's chest hurts. roughly, derek starts to find a rhythm, dragging the head of his cock back through the tight passage of stiles' hole, pulling out to the ring. he grunts, pushes his hand forward, pressing stiles' face against the wall. ]
Stiles--
[ he's starting to swell. he can feel it - not just at the base of his cock, but all of him. he's getting bigger, thicker, inside stiles. derek's hips are moving on their own accord, getting faster, pressing deeper, stretching out stiles well past his body's limit, and the more he does, the more of him that fills stiles up, the bigger, more difficult it gets. derek hunches forward again, heaving those same heavy, almost violent breaths, and he tugs stiles' hair again to have better access to his throat from the side. he kisses him, just once, violent but tender. he's barely half inside of stiles, and he feels like he's too much for him.
but - ]
Stiles, there's-- more of me.
[ and - and he doesn't know if stiles is going to be able to handle it, he doesn't know if it's going to hurt too much. being knotted. derek keeps fucking him, because he can't fucking help it, he doesn't think he can stop, not now, but maybe-- maybe it's already too much. ]
no subject
[ derek asks him for more. derek tells him he wants more and all stiles can do is tell him he knows - because he does. because he wants more too. the words spill out of him on the end of a shuddery sigh, breathy and a little desperate as stiles continues to roll his hips back in tiny thrusts, driving himself just a little further back onto derek's cock each time, centimeter by deliciously agonizing centimeter. all he wants to do is sink all the way down, take as much of derek's cock as his body will physically allow, but the stretch is already tight, painful but - tolerable.
derek straightens up, and though he's no even half inside yet, it changes the angle of his cock just enough that stile' breath catches for a moment, muscles tensing not with pain, but with pleasure. he makes a soft sound, tilting his head forward against to lean it against the tiles and curling his toes. derek takes his arm away, slides it out from between his stomach and the wall, sets it against his lower back instead, keeping him pinned. stiles - kind of hates it, only because it means he can't keep fucking himself on derek's cock, not while he's being held in place. he whines quietly, though it's a frustrated sound more than anything else, but it melts into a soft moan as derek's fingers sink into his hair.
he's not expecting him to pull - but there's no resistance. stiles arches his neck, shoulder blades inching together, his lower spine bending subtly over the solid line of derek's forearm holding him down. and derek fucks him. he pushes into stiles, hips snapping forward hard and sudden and unforgiving, and it's only and inch, maybe two, but it's more than stiles expects all at once, and it hurts. he bites his teeth together hard, biting back and tense groan, the tendons in his neck flexing with the tension that snaps through his shoulders. and then the pain starts to ease. derek keeps fucking into him, sliding just those few inches in and out, forward and back, and stiles' jaw relaxes just as derek guides his head forward and pushes his cheek into the wall.
stiles opens his mouth, but all that comes out of him is a soft, sighed oh, one of his hands dropping to down to circle around his own cock, fingers closed tight over the tip. derek says his name, and stiles' entire body shudders with the sound of it. he can feel himself getting tighter around derek he more derek fucks into him - but that's not it. he's not getting tighter, derek's just getting bigger, thicker and harder and the stretch as derek sinks deeper—
for a moment, stiles feels like he can't breathe. he feels overwhelmed, but it's not the kind of overwhelmed that makes him feel panicky or scared or out of control. it's just - a lot, but stiles has never wanted anything or anyone so fucking badly in his entire life. stiles draws in a quiet gasp of a breath, and even though the slide of derek's cock is starting to hurt again, stiles just keeps meeting his hips with small, measured backwards pushes of his own.
stiles pumps his cock with long, solid strokes, nodding his head as best as he can with derek still holding his cheek to the wall. there's water in his eyes, dropping down from his hair, collecting in his eyelashes, running down the side of his nose to the corner of his mouth, down his chin, his throat.
he's done his research. after scott was bitten in the woods and started exhibiting strange behavior, stiles dedicated his time to figuring out what it was that was affecting his friend, and once he'd figured it out, he'd only researched further. myths and legends and lore - anything he could get his hands on, regardless of credibility. he researched wolves, too, their behavior, habits, their biology, all of it just in case. all of it, just because he knew if he didn't, nobody else would.
stiles has - some idea of what might be happening now, what is about to happen if he doesn't stop derek now — but he doesn't want to stop. the very last thing stiles wants to do right now is end this before it's even really started. this - is part of derek, part of who he is, influenced by the full moon or now - and stiles loves him. stiles loves every part of him, wants every part of him, ever side, man and wolf and everything in between.
stiles squeezes his fist around the base of his cock, pushes his hips back with a brief clench of his teeth. he reaches back, pawing at derek's flank again as he fucks into him, hand shaking, words a little slurred. ]
It's okay. It's okay, I want it, I want this. I want you. Derek—
[ he wants everything derek is, everything derek wants to give him, he'll withstand and work through whatever pain to get to that sweet, warm, bone-melting pleasure derek has never failed to deliver. ]
Derek, please.