[ For Reggie, the thing is just that comfort is complicated for him; he's not great at talking about his feelings, at being open and letting himself be vulnerable, so for him a lot of times it does mean sex. It distracts him and helps him feel less alone, even if it doesn't fix anything.
But sometimes it can just be about company, too. Friendship. He's been discovering that more, ever since he's been able to get closer with Archie, or even Veronica, even Nick, but the problem is he's muddied the line between friendship and sex so much that one usually still leads into the other.
The apartment's not exactly trashed, but it's certainly... askew, some chairs and miscellaneous furniture knocked over, pillows and clothes and other things flung haphazardly around, maybe a dish or two broken in the kitchen. Oh, and a wall mirror-- but otherwise, nothing major. Reggie left the door unlocked, not sure exactly where in the apartment he'd be when Derek showed up, but he's just in the living room, wrapping a towel around his hand. ]
Hey. [ He doesn't look up. ] You want a drink or something?
[ There are times, like now, where being a werewolf is more of a hindrance than a help. He wouldn't need to have the nose of a dog to smell the blood in the air - he doesn't know what Reggie's done to his hand, whether he's just scrapped his knuckles or given himself a slightly more grievous injury, but the towel around his hand is the first thing that catches Derek's attention, the source of the iron smell in the air coming from there.
Derek quietly shuts the door behind him, taking a few cautious steps towards Reggie, less like he doesn't know what to say and more like he's afraid of startling a wild animal. He doesn't answer Reggie's question; as he walks closer, his eyes drift to the kitchen, where he sees a shard of porcelain still discarded on the tiles, and they drift to the mirror askew and shattered on the wall, glass fractured and spiderwebbing from the center. Derek wets his lips, getting in arm's distance from Reggie, walking slowly around a toppled chair to get there.
Jesus, he's not taking this well. Derek's voice actually does sound kind of sympathetic this time, once he finds it again. ]
[ It'll probably hurt later, but right now Reggie barely feels it. He didn't cut himself too deeply, but hitting the mirror definitely did some damage that dropping a couple dishes wouldn't.
Reggie shrugs, glancing up finally. ]
It's not even that deep, this was just the only thing I could find to wrap it with.
[ Reggie wets his lips too, idly, moving over so there's room on the couch for Derek to sit if he wants to. If Reggie knew Derek was a werewolf, this would probably be time he'd ask if he could still smell Nick somewhere -- not just his scent, but him -- but all Reggie does instead is stare at his hands for a couple more quiet seconds. Exhales. Shakes his head. ]
Um, so-- [ He pauses, but only briefly. ] If Nick doesn't come back, can I contract with you?
[ Given their relationship it feels slightly awkward to ask, a somewhat loaded question with vaguely embarrassing implications, but for the moment, Reggie intends it entirely pragmatically. ]
Not that I think he won't come back, I just... you know, like, just in case, right?
[ Derek doesn't entirely buy that nah. He gives Reggie a quick once over, hovering at the foot of the sofa, unwilling to move away from the question. It's not until Reggie elaborates, reassuring Derek that it's just a shallow cut, that Derek's willing to let this go. For the most part. ]
Just - give me your hand if that changes, okay?
[ Because - if it hurts, he can do something about it. He's not going to go revealing his secrets if he doesn't have to, but he's willing to knock down a few walls if Reggie needs his help.
Derek takes the invitation for what it is, slowly allowing himself to sit down on the couch besides Reggie, dropping back against the leather in a... pretty transparent attempt to look relaxed. He folds his arms over his chest, hands in fists behind his biceps, too tense to really look like he isn't even in spite of the chill manspreading and the way he isn't worrying at his bottom lip the way he keeps wanting to. Reggie starts to talk again, and Derek rolls his neck against the back of the couch, looking at him through focused, unblinking eyes.
The question is a sudden one, and it honestly throws Derek into a bit of a tailspin; he should have seen this coming, should have expected that's why Reggie wanted to see him. He doesn't let it show, but he's caught off guard. The truthful answer, of course, is that he would have to talk to Stiles before committing to anything, and that ultimately, Stiles is his number one priority in this city - if he doesn't want Derek to contract with anyone else, then... Derek's not going to contract with anyone else.
But that's not the answer he gives. It's not even the answer he considers giving. Derek answers in, like - half a second. Less than that, maybe. ]
Yeah. Are you kidding me? Of course you can.
[ He'll fucking - ask for forgiveness, rather than permission, if things come to pass like this. Derek shrugs one shoulder, affable despite the vice in his chest. The question hangs in the air like proof that Nick's gone for good, and Derek's not going to dwell on it long enough for them to feel that way. ]
But - we don't have to think about that. This place is a revolving door. Nick'll be back before you know it. Dude's way too good of a lay for LIES to give up so easily.
[ Reggie raises his eyebrow wryly, wrapping the towel a little tighter, but he seems to be starting to relax a bit more-- which isn't to say he feels better, because how could he, but the comfort of Derek's presence here is at least helping to relieve some of the angry, distressed tension from his mind and his body already, if only temporarily.
Same with the question, and Derek's answer. In a way it doesn't even matter if Derek's serious, Reggie has several more Dominant friends he could ask if things were truly that dire, but sometimes people just need to hear what they need to hear.
And if anything, to Reggie, asking it only makes it feel more like Nick will come back, especially if Derek's humoring him. ]
Cool. Thanks, bro. I mean-- [ He shrugs too, casually. Probably too casually, like everything about Reggie right now. ] No rush, obviously. And yeah, he is that, but--
[ Pfft. Reggie wets his lips again idly. ]
You wanna hear something crazy, though? I actually told him that I... uh. That I-- okay, it's way more dumb than crazy.
[ And probably obvious. And very hard to repeat. ]
[ Ah - shit, Reggie, that's heartbreaking. Derek's eyebrows meet in the middle, looking more and more sad for this poor kid the longer this goes on. Every casual shrug, every bro, every joke, it's all - way too thin. Watery. Derek doesn't know what he can say to make any of this better. ]
He's good for you.
[ Nick is good for Reggie, not was. Derek's not going to push him here, but it's hard not to know what he means. Hard not to want to hug this poor piece of shit. Derek looks at him long and hard, and when he finally talks again, things all just... tumble out of him. Carelessly. ]
I've loved four people in my life. I murdered the first, back when I was fifteen. Another burned almost a dozen members of my family to death. The third - well. I haven't even met her yet, but apparently, she's real, real big on human sacrifices. So.
[ So. Derek drops his ear to his shoulder, looking idly at Reggie. He's doing that thing. That thing that awkwardly closed off and super-reticent people do where they just-- overshare, suddenly, and it kind of puts all their previous silence into perspective. Like, jesus, no wonder he doesn't talk. He gets all awkward and weird when he does.
But, uh - he has a point to this. Derek sits up and nudges his shoulder into Reggie's, like that makes this less real, or whatever. More casual. Bro. ]
Just - I mean. I'm just saying. Probably worse people to love than a guy who makes you happy, right? It's not dumb to love somebody good for you.
[ This really, really sucks. Reggie already hates sharing like this, feeling this vulnerable like some kind of weak sissy, and he hates even more that it does help to talk about it. Even if just a little.
And he's not overly emotional when it comes to this sort of thing, or at least-- not outwardly. His demeanor is a bit melancholy and serious, sure, and his voice is a little softer than usual, a little hoarse, but the tone is flat and even. Reggie's not even close to shedding tears.
He looks at Derek, quiet, just listening for the moment. ]
Well, that does make me feel a lot better about my love troubles... [ But, uh. Also? Huge yikes? ] But hey, it's like they always say: fourth time's the charm, right?
[ Reggie's not always great at like, verbal comfort, he doesn't know how to respond to information like this in an emotionally healthy, useful way, but maybe Derek's also like Reggie in that he wouldn't want that, anyway.
But it puts a lot more about Derek into perspective, hearing all that. Reggie feels a tight twist in his stomach and his chest, like he often does around Derek -- feeling sorry for him, and fascinated by him, intimidated by him and vaguely in awe of him, all at the same time -- except now it's mixed with something else, too.
He really picked the worst fucking time to say they could stop doing whatever it is they'd been doing. ]
And look, just shut up. Never mind. It doesn't matter what he said.
[ Reggie looks at Derek, then leans halfway over his lap, tilting his head to kiss him. It's warm and needy, though hesitant-- and guilty, obviously. He pulls away again after a few seconds, biting at the corner of his lip but not really moving away, or looking away. ]
[ Right. Fourth time's the charm. Derek's not really in need of comfort here, so he doesn't really care how useful Reggie's advice might be. He snorts lightly, if anything, brushing off his response the way he would no matter what it was. This was just - his attempt at opening up, giving Reggie some empathy. Maybe he didn't do a good job. Feels kind of shitty, now that it's all out there.
Derek goes quiet, pressing his fingertips together and watching Reggie settle into this. He never minds him, telling Derek to shut up, and if Reggie wasn't going through hell right now, Derek would have probably picked a fight with him for his attitude. He clenches his teeth together, works out some tension in his jaw, but ultimately just - lets this go.
He's sighing through his nose, tilting his head away from Reggie to stare out ahead of him, but Reggie catches him before he goes. The kiss is... honestly very sweet, especially from Reggie of all people, and it catches Derek off guard. He doesn't react until it's over - he turns to look at Reggie more directly, lips lightly parted, the barest traces of shock on his face. ]
It's... fine.
[ It's fine. It's really okay, he's not mad, and he's not-- honestly, he's not saying no, he's just worried about Reggie. There's a huge leap from talking about how he loves somebody else to - this, and Derek cares about Reggie enough to not just... immediately throw him on his back and get to work. He needs a second to think, but he puts his hand on Reggie's side, just to show him that he's not upset. Last thing he wants is for Reggie to feel rejected, jesus. Not with everything else he's dealing with. ]
I... can't tell if this is what you need, or if this is just... something that's going to make you feel even worse.
[ Reggie doesn't want Derek to feel shitty, or like he has to do anything, but it's hard, navigating so much at once. Wanting to deflect the issue, missing Nick, wanting to respect Derek's boundaries and be a good friend to him, yet not wanting to lose him, either, missing Nick, not wanting pity, not wanting to tell Derek what Nick said back to him because out of context it'll only sound pitiful, wanting to feel wanted, missing Nick, wanting to distract himself from missing Nick--
He kisses Derek again, a bit deeper this time, his hand stroking up Derek's thigh. ]
I know we just talked about this like, a day ago, but can we at least... maybe like, one more time? One more time at least? It is what I-- you know what I need.
[ But Reggie swallows slowly, reluctantly pulling back again in case it's still not what Derek wants. It's probably unfair of him to want this, and to put Derek in this position when Reggie especially just doesn't want to be alone, but--
He can't keep off Derek for very long, leaning back over him to kiss around his neck, wet and eager despite the dilemma in front of him. ]
It won't make me feel worse. Me and Nick aren't exclusive anyway. [ Was that what Derek was driving at? Reggie isn't sure. ] But we don't have to-- I mean, I...
[ Want to-- ]
Just do whatever you wanna do, okay? To me, or-- [ He meets Derek's eyes again, briefly. ] Or not.
[ Derek never really wanted to cut things off with Reggie - it's just one of those things that's difficult to say. Cutting this off is probably the right thing to do, but losing any kind of connection to Reggie is actually pretty hard for Derek - Reggie reminds him so much of himself when he was younger, and maybe he's projecting a little too hard, but teenage Derek would have been so fucking wrecked if one of his friends tried to put any kind of distance between them. Sure, his friendship with Reggie is a lot different to the friendships Derek had at sixteen, but that's the city's fault, right? They're friends - Derek's scared of losing that.
He might have stumbled into the dynamic he has with Reggie on accident, but it's theirs. He likes it. Maybe that's fucked up. Jesus, this city gets in his head. He feels like he doesn't know anything anymore.
One thing he does know, at least, is that he can't ask are you sure you want this? again and again and again. The people he's been with in Duplicity have universally hated that, and even though the urge to corner Reggie and ask if this is something he's sure he wants is strong as hell, Derek can't bring himself to do it. He watches, and he listens, and he stays as impassive as possible through everything - through the kiss, the hand on his thigh, the lips on his neck. When Reggie surrenders the choice to Derek, Derek... ]
Okay. Okay, just...
[ Just - what? Calm down? Sit back, relax? Stop pushing? Stop asking? Derek doesn't know where that just is supposed to go, and he trails off with a stiff shake of his head. He looks at Reggie for a long, long time, and then -
And then it's a whirlwind. He's crashing into Reggie, taking him in a third kiss, finally giving something back. It's rough and frantic, with Derek darting his tongue between Reggie's lips and sliding his hand beneath his shirt, smoothing his palm up his stomach and stroking his chest. He kisses Reggie until it hurts to breathe, leaning him onto his back, and when he breaks away, he drops his hand to Reggie's pants and starts unbuckling them as quickly as he can. ]
Alright.
[ Alright. ]
Listen - I don't do this for just anyone. You're gonna be my first, other than Stiles, so. You're gonna fucking owe me.
[ He's not saying what this is, but - he gets Reggie's belt open, then tugs on his jeans, telling him to lift his hips so Derek can pull them down. ]
Everything off. If this is the last time we're doing this, we're gonna do it the right way.
[ That long, uncertain span of seconds that passes is almost unbearable for Reggie, he almost doesn't even care what Derek says as long as he gives him an answer, because-- this kind of wishy-washy are you sure and we don't have to crap is really not Reggie's style, even if right now it's hard to avoid. He tries to be decent, of course, but there's a difference between sensitive and suffocating.
But then an answer does come, and it fills Reggie with so much relief. He doesn't want to lose this -- or end it --either. They're friends, yes, and that's important, but it's also hard for him to imagine their friendship without this. Everything that's been a part of it and helped define what they are from the very start. So-- ]
God-- y-yeah, like th--
[ He falls back easily, panting and drinking in every touch, giving back with his mouth and tongue and hands (even the injured one, which may not be injured deep, but still leaves streaks of blood in its wake). Every responsive arc and twist of his body beneath Derek's is desperate, and hungry, eager for whatever’s in store and to be distracted with rough, familiar pleasure until the thought of having to sleep alone tonight is drowned out completely.
Reggie lifts his hips compliantly, opening his legs, but then-- no-- he knows exactly what Derek means by "this," or at least, he thinks he does. His eyebrows raise and his lips part, heart racing alarmingly, and he doesn't waste another second before he's sitting up enough to pull his shirt off. ]
It doesn't have to be the--
[ Though he stops himself from finishing that thought, just in case it causes Derek to change his mind, and instead just swallows and nods eagerly. He hopes it's still unspoken, though, that this doesn't really have to be it, and that in fact it won't be, but whether it is or it isn't, now his mind and body are obsessed with the idea of what he imagines Derek's implying. What else can it be? ]
I'll owe you. You can stay here all night and just... and-- I don't wanna sleep until I'm done owing you. [ He's breathing too hard to speak or even think too coherently, taking a break to pull to pull Derek into an aggressive, hungry kiss. ] If this really is the last time we're doing this then I wanna feel you for days. Keep going until my mouth and my ass are too bruised and friggin'-- covered in jizz for you to screw anymore.
[ He's trying to be sexy, believe it or not, but look: his frame of reference here is mostly porn. Reggie does this thing, with Nick and Derek especially, where his brain shifts into a sort of automatic state, too clouded with lust and want to think straight, and he just starts talking and reacting almost mindlessly-- agreeing, or asking, or begging, his body responding obediently and eagerly to nearly anything asked of it in a relieved (though temporary) rejection of the part of him that tries so desperately to cling to some level of pride and dignity and control. ]
I swear, if you let me fuck you even once that's all it'll take, but-- fuck, Derek. Please.
[ It's good that Reggie cuts himself off when he does; Derek doesn't want to think too hard about what they're doing or where their future might go, because it's just going to lead to anxiety and doubt and second-guessing. He's still worried this isn't really what Reggie needs, he's still battling the urge to be suffocating, and the heavy switch into corny porn talk and a promise to make tonight better is easier to deal with than the worries about where they'll stand in twelve hours.
He focuses on the kiss. Focuses on staying determined to see this through. Reggie's dirty talk is actually pretty fucking effective, for Derek, who's always at his engaged when someone's telling him how much they want him, and he greets eats word and each press of Reggie's lips to his own with eager grunts, encouraging moans, little wanton gasps. He gets Reggie's pants off and does the same for his boxers, stripping him bare from the waist down as quickly as he can, and it's hard to smell the blood in the air when it's steadily being overpowered by arousal.
If they're doing this properly, they should take this to bed, but - Derek doesn't know how much damage Reggie's done in that room. If plates and chairs are broken out here, he can only imagine how bad things are in a room Reggie and Nick probably spent a ton of time in together, and he's reluctant to find out what's waiting for him behind closed doors. So - they'll fuck on the couch. At least it's in tact. ]
I can ride you - take care of you. All you'd have to do is lay back and relax. Or...
[ Derek sets his hand on Reggie's chest for balance. He brings his other hand down to his own clothes and starts stripping himself bare - he kicks off his shoes and his socks and his jeans and his boxers before he's pulling up the hem of his shirt, taking his hand back just long enough to pull his shirt off over his head, leaving it discarded on the floor. It takes maybe fifteen seconds before he's completely nude, half-hard and leaning over Reggie, one hand on the sofa's armrest and the other back on Reggie's skin. ]
You can fuck the hell out of me. Hard as you want. Get all your frustration out. I can take it.
[ And then - after that - Derek'll do the same for Reggie. Push him into the cushions and fuck him until he doesn't have room in his head to think about Nick, to think about losing Nick. Derek'll overwhelm him with so much raw, physical pleasure, that the rest of the world will just - stop. Just for tonight. As long as that's what Reggie needs. Derek dips down, swiping his tongue over Reggie's throat, kissing up his jawline to the corner over his lips. He drops his voice to low, rumbling whisper. ]
[ By now Reggie's breathing so hard he's almost dizzy, vision swimming from all the colliding arousal and adrenaline in his body, all the blood rushing from his head. Once they're undressed he stares at Derek's naked body with dazed appreciation, then indulgently tips his head back to allow the kissing for a bit longer before he sits up, putting a hand to Derek's chest. ]
I need you on your back.
[ His voice is low too, though still hoarse with breath and lust, and then his hand isn't just touching Derek, but shoving him back. ]
That's what you want, right? And so do I. What would be the point of me screwing you if I'm not really screwing you?
[ Reggie sits up and leans over Derek now, between his legs, dipping down to nip and suck on his neck and leave would-be love bites in his wake as his fingers curl around Derek's dick experimentally. He strokes it slowly. ]
Tell me what you need. I wanna know what you like-- and what you want, and I wanna know what I'm gonna owe you, besides my body. And how much. I wanna hear it.
[ Yes, all of it; everything Reggie just asked for, everything he's going to have to look forward to tonight. ]
[ Reggie's pretty strong for someone with a bleeding hand and a bleeding heart. Derek's usually this immovable, superhuman wall of muscle and bad moods who never, ever bends the knee for anyone, but when Reggie shoves him forward, he just - yields. He surrenders and drops onto his back, propping himself up on his elbows with his heart jackhammer against his ribs, and when he tilts his neck to the side to expose his throat to each kiss and each bite Reggie gives him, Derek starts to second guess himself. He's not sure if he can actually do this. Baring your throat to anyone as a wolf is a fucking terrifying thing to do. Giving all of this to Reggie is a way bigger deal to him than it should be.
But - Derek trusts Reggie, which is something he didn't actually realize until now. He's really, really bad at ceding control to other people, but - there's trust here. If submission is something Reggie needs from him, then - ]
I need to take care of you.
[ - then he needs to give it to him. That was too honest of an answer, though; he's gotta slide it back, dial the corny porn banter up to eleven, shut out all his feelings the way Reggie's trying to do. He needs to change gears. Needs to surrender not just to Reggie, but to the moment.
Reggie's hand on his dick is getting to him. Derek closes his eyes, just for a second. He swallows, steels his jaw, getting harder and harder in the tight grip of Reggie's fist. Derek opens his eyes again, looks at Reggie like he could punch him just as easily as he could beg for him to fuck him, and he drops his voice while he talks, keeping it just above a growl. ]
I want you to wreck me. I mean-- really, really wreck me. Fuck me like a man. An alpha. Fuck me harder than you've ever fucked anyone else. Prove to me that it's worth giving you all the obedience and the submission that you've given me.
[ A pause. Derek shifts a few inches closer to Reggie, propping his neck against the armrest, squeezing Reggie's waist lightly with his knees. There's lube in the jeans Derek left at the base of the couch, which he'll silently direct Reggie to with a nod of his head. ]
And then - for the rest of tonight, if I think you did a good enough job, you're gonna be mine. Every single part of you. Mind, body, soul. I'll fuck you until daybreak. Not gonna stop, no matter how many times I make you come. No matter how exhausted you get. You're gonna be a mess, by the time I'm done with you. My mess.
[ It's not really that Reggie needs submission from Derek, exactly, but he needs-- he needs Derek, and while it's too complicated to precisely define why or what for, this is still significant.
Dominance and submission play a steady role in Reggie's relationships with Derek and Archie both, but with Archie, things usually tend to balance themselves out; they're friends and also very competitive friends, so while Archie usually holds a bit of a lead on Reggie, there's a lot of give and take (so to speak) between them.
Derek, though, established himself as an alpha right away, and not just in an easy-to-undermine-and-push-the-boundaries-of kind of way like Archie, but in a real way, one that fills Reggie with intimidation and admiration and yearning and respect all at once; Derek is what he's always idolized and thought he was supposed to be, although he's not that, and maybe he's okay with not being that. Yet... yet--
Because of all that, Derek surrendering himself to Reggie like this has a meaning to it that can't apply to most -- or any -- of his other relationships. It is a gesture of trust, and respect, and Reggie can recognize it as such because he shares in that complex relationship with masculinity, he shares the compulsion not to submit to someone unless they've earned it.
So this-- he understands it's significant.
And Reggie, for as much as he's grown to tolerate-- enjoy-- love? being fucked, he has so much more experience doing it this way; he isn't still so overwhelmed with discovery he mostly reacts by instinct and desire, he knows what he's doing and he's confident in it. His heart is racing now, not from nerves, but anticipation. ]
No problem. [ He smiles now, a little cheekily, kissing Derek on the mouth. ] I'll not only wreck you, I'll make sure you never forget it. You're gonna love it.
[ Reggie tugs on Derek's lower lip with his teeth briefly, then sits up to get the lube out of Derek's jeans, wasting no more time. He needs this, now-- he needs to be inside of Derek, he needs to feel him, and fill him, watch him fall apart and then somehow recover, and then he needs...
Well, one thing at a time. Reggie squeezes the lube into his palm, rubbing it thickly along his dick before he rubs his fingers together and slips his hand between Derek's legs, easing one finger right on in. ]
You're gonna dream about it later, and not just about how good I fucked you. [ He kisses him again, roughly, beginning to slot their hips together even though he's still only fingering him. ] But also about what it'd be like if I was yours. We could do this all the time. All night, whenever we wanted.
[ Reggie knows, of course, despite how much the two of them might enjoy each other's company, and fucking, what he's describing isn't what either of them would really want; as a fantasy, hell yes, but in actuality, they obviously have their respective Someone Else's to do that with.
Well-- Derek does, and Reggie did, but, the point stands. Mostly. ]
[ This is, so far, everything Derek was hoping it would be. The elevated pulse, the thrum of hopeful excitement reverberating through Reggie's body, all that newly found confidence - it goes without saying that Derek's genuinely very unsure about putting himself beneath anybody, let alone a fucking seventeen year old, but he does trust Reggie, and he does want to make him feel a little better, and this is the most intimate and - hopefully most appreciated - gift that he can offer him.
He feels all antsy and nervous, his stomach filled with static. Reggie kisses him and Derek doesn't react too much, other than slightly tilting his chin up to really feel the soft press of Reggie's full lips against his own. His eyelids flutter and he wills himself not to moan when he feels the sharp pinch of teeth against his lip, but he's getting harder and harder, anticipating what's to come more and more. Reggie tells him everything he's going to do to him, walks him through every moment he's about to experience, and Derek looks the way he always does - mildly angrily, vastly unimpressed. He's looking at Reggie like he's telling him what tomorrow's weather is going to be for, like, the eighth time in a row.
But the thing is - and Derek has never, ever admitted this, not even to himself - the thing is, there's a very greedy, slutty part of Derek that loves to get fucked. A part of him that wants nothing more than to cut through all the pressure and the power struggles and the masculinity he associates with being on top and to just get well and truly fucked. Stretched open, filled to the brim, made into somebody's personal whore. He's got the perfect ass for it - full, round, always virginally tight, given how rapidly his body heals - and he's so fucking sensitive. Derek looks at Reggie like he'd rather be anywhere other then here, but...
It's just a defense mechanism. Reggie barely eases the tip of his finger inside Derek before his knees are shaking a little and his back is arching away from the sofa, just half an inch, if that. His hands grab at anything they can reach for support, one hand holding Reggie's shoulder in a tight, painful grip, the other digging into the armrest he's resting his head against, and Derek takes a breath, holding it in his chest for as long as he can. Reggie slips his finger past the first knuckle and down to the second, and Derek exhales, shaky, color filling his cheeks as he grips down on Reggie's finger as tightly as he can. His cock flexes, precum smearing back against his stomach, and his toes are curling. Derek's losing his composure already.
And then Reggie presses forward, bringing them flush together, skin to skin, and he's not fucking him yet, but just the thought of it makes Derek release this guttural, growling moan from the back of his throat. He squeezes his eyes shut so he doesn't have to see Reggie's face as his own burns a little brighter, and when Reggie takes another kiss from him, Derek pointedly refuses to engage. He's incredibly easy to read like this - all wanton and needy and willing to give himself up to Reggie in any way he wants him, and the way he doesn't kiss Reggie back makes it obvious that he's still clutching onto some proud sense of masculinity that makes it difficult for him to fully lean into the feeling.
But that'll change. Reggie said something about being his, too, and the mix of all this submission and dominance that Derek thrives on is already making him feel like he could come. He takes a deep breath, forcing himself to look Reggie in the eye, but that only lasts for a second before he's darting his gaze away and staring at Reggie's chin, his neck, the shoulder he's still holding on to. Safe spots. ]
If you were mine - really mine - [ His voice is gravelly and sort of hesitant, like it's tripping over itself, but he clears his throat and keeps it stern and steady as he talks - ] - you'd never leave my bed. All day, all night, you'd just-- you'd... you'd, uh...
[ They've barely touched each other, but Reggie does something with his finger that makes Derek lose his train of thought, and he reaches his hand down from Reggie's shoulder and grabs his wrist as tightly as he can, holding Reggie's hand still. He takes a breath, looks up at Reggie, and-- he smiles now, laughing, weak and fragile as he lets his wrist go. ]
F-fuck. Careful. You're gonna make me come already.
[ Reggie laughs a little too, smiling back in a natural, genuine sort of way that's so easy he doesn't even notice it.
He wants this to be good, he wants it to be incredible for the both of them, and he gets it-- really, he does. Maybe he and Derek aren't exactly the same, but obviously he understands the exact nature of most of Derek's hang-ups about submission, and he shared them, but unlike Derek, Reggie crumbled almost immediately.
It's not that he can't be dominant, Reggie can do this, and he can front and posture until he passes as dominant, but that secret part of Derek that exists in him exists in Reggie too, almost to a T, shamefully hidden until Nick pulled it free and exposed Reggie to it until he started fearing it less and less. Derek's seen that side of Reggie, too, the side that's usually for Nick's eyes only, but that's exactly why Reggie feels like he can do this-- he knows, fuck, he knows. ]
I'd do what?
[ Reggie leans over Derek, kissing his neck and inserting a second finger, rocking the two of them within the tight clench of Derek's ass with impatient but careful flexes of his wrist. ]
And how would you keep me there?
[ He's trying to keep Derek focused, and balanced, because now Reggie's fingers are easing out and his cock, hard and already dripping, is rubbing the place against Derek's ass where they'd just been-- but also Reggie's a little greedy, too, he wants to hear this, wants Derek to intimately describe the ways he'd want Reggie and all the things he would do, but that's still only secondary to what's actually happening now.
Reggie pushes in, cupping Derek's face with one hand to kiss him roughly while he buries himself halfway deep in one, two fluid thrusts, his muscles flexing and clenching, his body slotting so naturally against Derek's that a rhythm practically creates itself after one or two more back-and-forward rocks of his hips. ]
It's okay-- [ Panted, against Derek's mouth. ] Don't come yet, you'd better not. You need to last at least as long as I do.
[ As much as Reggie tends to naturally default more submissive when he isn't trying hard to present himself as dominant, he isn't really purely one or the other, and that versatility is perhaps most readily obvious whenever he is in the more dominant position; he becomes kind of a mixture, comfortable with taking the lead, but also ready to adapt in seconds to whatever his partner needs him to be.
He thrusts in again, deep, until he's buried to the hilt. ]
And then I'll be all yours to do whatever you want to. It'll be so worth it.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
But sometimes it can just be about company, too. Friendship. He's been discovering that more, ever since he's been able to get closer with Archie, or even Veronica, even Nick, but the problem is he's muddied the line between friendship and sex so much that one usually still leads into the other.
The apartment's not exactly trashed, but it's certainly... askew, some chairs and miscellaneous furniture knocked over, pillows and clothes and other things flung haphazardly around, maybe a dish or two broken in the kitchen. Oh, and a wall mirror-- but otherwise, nothing major. Reggie left the door unlocked, not sure exactly where in the apartment he'd be when Derek showed up, but he's just in the living room, wrapping a towel around his hand. ]
Hey. [ He doesn't look up. ] You want a drink or something?
no subject
Derek quietly shuts the door behind him, taking a few cautious steps towards Reggie, less like he doesn't know what to say and more like he's afraid of startling a wild animal. He doesn't answer Reggie's question; as he walks closer, his eyes drift to the kitchen, where he sees a shard of porcelain still discarded on the tiles, and they drift to the mirror askew and shattered on the wall, glass fractured and spiderwebbing from the center. Derek wets his lips, getting in arm's distance from Reggie, walking slowly around a toppled chair to get there.
Jesus, he's not taking this well. Derek's voice actually does sound kind of sympathetic this time, once he finds it again. ]
Does that hurt?
[ His hand, he means. ]
no subject
[ It'll probably hurt later, but right now Reggie barely feels it. He didn't cut himself too deeply, but hitting the mirror definitely did some damage that dropping a couple dishes wouldn't.
Reggie shrugs, glancing up finally. ]
It's not even that deep, this was just the only thing I could find to wrap it with.
[ Reggie wets his lips too, idly, moving over so there's room on the couch for Derek to sit if he wants to. If Reggie knew Derek was a werewolf, this would probably be time he'd ask if he could still smell Nick somewhere -- not just his scent, but him -- but all Reggie does instead is stare at his hands for a couple more quiet seconds. Exhales. Shakes his head. ]
Um, so-- [ He pauses, but only briefly. ] If Nick doesn't come back, can I contract with you?
[ Given their relationship it feels slightly awkward to ask, a somewhat loaded question with vaguely embarrassing implications, but for the moment, Reggie intends it entirely pragmatically. ]
Not that I think he won't come back, I just... you know, like, just in case, right?
no subject
Just - give me your hand if that changes, okay?
[ Because - if it hurts, he can do something about it. He's not going to go revealing his secrets if he doesn't have to, but he's willing to knock down a few walls if Reggie needs his help.
Derek takes the invitation for what it is, slowly allowing himself to sit down on the couch besides Reggie, dropping back against the leather in a... pretty transparent attempt to look relaxed. He folds his arms over his chest, hands in fists behind his biceps, too tense to really look like he isn't even in spite of the chill manspreading and the way he isn't worrying at his bottom lip the way he keeps wanting to. Reggie starts to talk again, and Derek rolls his neck against the back of the couch, looking at him through focused, unblinking eyes.
The question is a sudden one, and it honestly throws Derek into a bit of a tailspin; he should have seen this coming, should have expected that's why Reggie wanted to see him. He doesn't let it show, but he's caught off guard. The truthful answer, of course, is that he would have to talk to Stiles before committing to anything, and that ultimately, Stiles is his number one priority in this city - if he doesn't want Derek to contract with anyone else, then... Derek's not going to contract with anyone else.
But that's not the answer he gives. It's not even the answer he considers giving. Derek answers in, like - half a second. Less than that, maybe. ]
Yeah. Are you kidding me? Of course you can.
[ He'll fucking - ask for forgiveness, rather than permission, if things come to pass like this. Derek shrugs one shoulder, affable despite the vice in his chest. The question hangs in the air like proof that Nick's gone for good, and Derek's not going to dwell on it long enough for them to feel that way. ]
But - we don't have to think about that. This place is a revolving door. Nick'll be back before you know it. Dude's way too good of a lay for LIES to give up so easily.
no subject
[ Reggie raises his eyebrow wryly, wrapping the towel a little tighter, but he seems to be starting to relax a bit more-- which isn't to say he feels better, because how could he, but the comfort of Derek's presence here is at least helping to relieve some of the angry, distressed tension from his mind and his body already, if only temporarily.
Same with the question, and Derek's answer. In a way it doesn't even matter if Derek's serious, Reggie has several more Dominant friends he could ask if things were truly that dire, but sometimes people just need to hear what they need to hear.
And if anything, to Reggie, asking it only makes it feel more like Nick will come back, especially if Derek's humoring him. ]
Cool. Thanks, bro. I mean-- [ He shrugs too, casually. Probably too casually, like everything about Reggie right now. ] No rush, obviously. And yeah, he is that, but--
[ Pfft. Reggie wets his lips again idly. ]
You wanna hear something crazy, though? I actually told him that I... uh. That I-- okay, it's way more dumb than crazy.
[ And probably obvious. And very hard to repeat. ]
no subject
He's good for you.
[ Nick is good for Reggie, not was. Derek's not going to push him here, but it's hard not to know what he means. Hard not to want to hug this poor piece of shit. Derek looks at him long and hard, and when he finally talks again, things all just... tumble out of him. Carelessly. ]
I've loved four people in my life. I murdered the first, back when I was fifteen. Another burned almost a dozen members of my family to death. The third - well. I haven't even met her yet, but apparently, she's real, real big on human sacrifices. So.
[ So. Derek drops his ear to his shoulder, looking idly at Reggie. He's doing that thing. That thing that awkwardly closed off and super-reticent people do where they just-- overshare, suddenly, and it kind of puts all their previous silence into perspective. Like, jesus, no wonder he doesn't talk. He gets all awkward and weird when he does.
But, uh - he has a point to this. Derek sits up and nudges his shoulder into Reggie's, like that makes this less real, or whatever. More casual. Bro. ]
Just - I mean. I'm just saying. Probably worse people to love than a guy who makes you happy, right? It's not dumb to love somebody good for you.
[ Derek scrubs his hand down his chin. ]
Did he... I mean - what did he say to that?
no subject
And he's not overly emotional when it comes to this sort of thing, or at least-- not outwardly. His demeanor is a bit melancholy and serious, sure, and his voice is a little softer than usual, a little hoarse, but the tone is flat and even. Reggie's not even close to shedding tears.
He looks at Derek, quiet, just listening for the moment. ]
Well, that does make me feel a lot better about my love troubles... [ But, uh. Also? Huge yikes? ] But hey, it's like they always say: fourth time's the charm, right?
[ Reggie's not always great at like, verbal comfort, he doesn't know how to respond to information like this in an emotionally healthy, useful way, but maybe Derek's also like Reggie in that he wouldn't want that, anyway.
But it puts a lot more about Derek into perspective, hearing all that. Reggie feels a tight twist in his stomach and his chest, like he often does around Derek -- feeling sorry for him, and fascinated by him, intimidated by him and vaguely in awe of him, all at the same time -- except now it's mixed with something else, too.
He really picked the worst fucking time to say they could stop doing whatever it is they'd been doing. ]
And look, just shut up. Never mind. It doesn't matter what he said.
[ Reggie looks at Derek, then leans halfway over his lap, tilting his head to kiss him. It's warm and needy, though hesitant-- and guilty, obviously. He pulls away again after a few seconds, biting at the corner of his lip but not really moving away, or looking away. ]
... Sorry, I know we just-- but...
no subject
Derek goes quiet, pressing his fingertips together and watching Reggie settle into this. He never minds him, telling Derek to shut up, and if Reggie wasn't going through hell right now, Derek would have probably picked a fight with him for his attitude. He clenches his teeth together, works out some tension in his jaw, but ultimately just - lets this go.
He's sighing through his nose, tilting his head away from Reggie to stare out ahead of him, but Reggie catches him before he goes. The kiss is... honestly very sweet, especially from Reggie of all people, and it catches Derek off guard. He doesn't react until it's over - he turns to look at Reggie more directly, lips lightly parted, the barest traces of shock on his face. ]
It's... fine.
[ It's fine. It's really okay, he's not mad, and he's not-- honestly, he's not saying no, he's just worried about Reggie. There's a huge leap from talking about how he loves somebody else to - this, and Derek cares about Reggie enough to not just... immediately throw him on his back and get to work. He needs a second to think, but he puts his hand on Reggie's side, just to show him that he's not upset. Last thing he wants is for Reggie to feel rejected, jesus. Not with everything else he's dealing with. ]
I... can't tell if this is what you need, or if this is just... something that's going to make you feel even worse.
no subject
He kisses Derek again, a bit deeper this time, his hand stroking up Derek's thigh. ]
I know we just talked about this like, a day ago, but can we at least... maybe like, one more time? One more time at least? It is what I-- you know what I need.
[ But Reggie swallows slowly, reluctantly pulling back again in case it's still not what Derek wants. It's probably unfair of him to want this, and to put Derek in this position when Reggie especially just doesn't want to be alone, but--
He can't keep off Derek for very long, leaning back over him to kiss around his neck, wet and eager despite the dilemma in front of him. ]
It won't make me feel worse. Me and Nick aren't exclusive anyway. [ Was that what Derek was driving at? Reggie isn't sure. ] But we don't have to-- I mean, I...
[ Want to-- ]
Just do whatever you wanna do, okay? To me, or-- [ He meets Derek's eyes again, briefly. ] Or not.
no subject
He might have stumbled into the dynamic he has with Reggie on accident, but it's theirs. He likes it. Maybe that's fucked up. Jesus, this city gets in his head. He feels like he doesn't know anything anymore.
One thing he does know, at least, is that he can't ask are you sure you want this? again and again and again. The people he's been with in Duplicity have universally hated that, and even though the urge to corner Reggie and ask if this is something he's sure he wants is strong as hell, Derek can't bring himself to do it. He watches, and he listens, and he stays as impassive as possible through everything - through the kiss, the hand on his thigh, the lips on his neck. When Reggie surrenders the choice to Derek, Derek... ]
Okay. Okay, just...
[ Just - what? Calm down? Sit back, relax? Stop pushing? Stop asking? Derek doesn't know where that just is supposed to go, and he trails off with a stiff shake of his head. He looks at Reggie for a long, long time, and then -
And then it's a whirlwind. He's crashing into Reggie, taking him in a third kiss, finally giving something back. It's rough and frantic, with Derek darting his tongue between Reggie's lips and sliding his hand beneath his shirt, smoothing his palm up his stomach and stroking his chest. He kisses Reggie until it hurts to breathe, leaning him onto his back, and when he breaks away, he drops his hand to Reggie's pants and starts unbuckling them as quickly as he can. ]
Alright.
[ Alright. ]
Listen - I don't do this for just anyone. You're gonna be my first, other than Stiles, so. You're gonna fucking owe me.
[ He's not saying what this is, but - he gets Reggie's belt open, then tugs on his jeans, telling him to lift his hips so Derek can pull them down. ]
Everything off. If this is the last time we're doing this, we're gonna do it the right way.
no subject
But then an answer does come, and it fills Reggie with so much relief. He doesn't want to lose this -- or end it --either. They're friends, yes, and that's important, but it's also hard for him to imagine their friendship without this. Everything that's been a part of it and helped define what they are from the very start. So-- ]
God-- y-yeah, like th--
[ He falls back easily, panting and drinking in every touch, giving back with his mouth and tongue and hands (even the injured one, which may not be injured deep, but still leaves streaks of blood in its wake). Every responsive arc and twist of his body beneath Derek's is desperate, and hungry, eager for whatever’s in store and to be distracted with rough, familiar pleasure until the thought of having to sleep alone tonight is drowned out completely.
Reggie lifts his hips compliantly, opening his legs, but then-- no-- he knows exactly what Derek means by "this," or at least, he thinks he does. His eyebrows raise and his lips part, heart racing alarmingly, and he doesn't waste another second before he's sitting up enough to pull his shirt off. ]
It doesn't have to be the--
[ Though he stops himself from finishing that thought, just in case it causes Derek to change his mind, and instead just swallows and nods eagerly. He hopes it's still unspoken, though, that this doesn't really have to be it, and that in fact it won't be, but whether it is or it isn't, now his mind and body are obsessed with the idea of what he imagines Derek's implying. What else can it be? ]
I'll owe you. You can stay here all night and just... and-- I don't wanna sleep until I'm done owing you. [ He's breathing too hard to speak or even think too coherently, taking a break to pull to pull Derek into an aggressive, hungry kiss. ] If this really is the last time we're doing this then I wanna feel you for days. Keep going until my mouth and my ass are too bruised and friggin'-- covered in jizz for you to screw anymore.
[ He's trying to be sexy, believe it or not, but look: his frame of reference here is mostly porn. Reggie does this thing, with Nick and Derek especially, where his brain shifts into a sort of automatic state, too clouded with lust and want to think straight, and he just starts talking and reacting almost mindlessly-- agreeing, or asking, or begging, his body responding obediently and eagerly to nearly anything asked of it in a relieved (though temporary) rejection of the part of him that tries so desperately to cling to some level of pride and dignity and control. ]
I swear, if you let me fuck you even once that's all it'll take, but-- fuck, Derek. Please.
no subject
He focuses on the kiss. Focuses on staying determined to see this through. Reggie's dirty talk is actually pretty fucking effective, for Derek, who's always at his engaged when someone's telling him how much they want him, and he greets eats word and each press of Reggie's lips to his own with eager grunts, encouraging moans, little wanton gasps. He gets Reggie's pants off and does the same for his boxers, stripping him bare from the waist down as quickly as he can, and it's hard to smell the blood in the air when it's steadily being overpowered by arousal.
If they're doing this properly, they should take this to bed, but - Derek doesn't know how much damage Reggie's done in that room. If plates and chairs are broken out here, he can only imagine how bad things are in a room Reggie and Nick probably spent a ton of time in together, and he's reluctant to find out what's waiting for him behind closed doors. So - they'll fuck on the couch. At least it's in tact. ]
I can ride you - take care of you. All you'd have to do is lay back and relax. Or...
[ Derek sets his hand on Reggie's chest for balance. He brings his other hand down to his own clothes and starts stripping himself bare - he kicks off his shoes and his socks and his jeans and his boxers before he's pulling up the hem of his shirt, taking his hand back just long enough to pull his shirt off over his head, leaving it discarded on the floor. It takes maybe fifteen seconds before he's completely nude, half-hard and leaning over Reggie, one hand on the sofa's armrest and the other back on Reggie's skin. ]
You can fuck the hell out of me. Hard as you want. Get all your frustration out. I can take it.
[ And then - after that - Derek'll do the same for Reggie. Push him into the cushions and fuck him until he doesn't have room in his head to think about Nick, to think about losing Nick. Derek'll overwhelm him with so much raw, physical pleasure, that the rest of the world will just - stop. Just for tonight. As long as that's what Reggie needs. Derek dips down, swiping his tongue over Reggie's throat, kissing up his jawline to the corner over his lips. He drops his voice to low, rumbling whisper. ]
Tell me what you need.
no subject
I need you on your back.
[ His voice is low too, though still hoarse with breath and lust, and then his hand isn't just touching Derek, but shoving him back. ]
That's what you want, right? And so do I. What would be the point of me screwing you if I'm not really screwing you?
[ Reggie sits up and leans over Derek now, between his legs, dipping down to nip and suck on his neck and leave would-be love bites in his wake as his fingers curl around Derek's dick experimentally. He strokes it slowly. ]
Tell me what you need. I wanna know what you like-- and what you want, and I wanna know what I'm gonna owe you, besides my body. And how much. I wanna hear it.
[ Yes, all of it; everything Reggie just asked for, everything he's going to have to look forward to tonight. ]
no subject
But - Derek trusts Reggie, which is something he didn't actually realize until now. He's really, really bad at ceding control to other people, but - there's trust here. If submission is something Reggie needs from him, then - ]
I need to take care of you.
[ - then he needs to give it to him. That was too honest of an answer, though; he's gotta slide it back, dial the corny porn banter up to eleven, shut out all his feelings the way Reggie's trying to do. He needs to change gears. Needs to surrender not just to Reggie, but to the moment.
Reggie's hand on his dick is getting to him. Derek closes his eyes, just for a second. He swallows, steels his jaw, getting harder and harder in the tight grip of Reggie's fist. Derek opens his eyes again, looks at Reggie like he could punch him just as easily as he could beg for him to fuck him, and he drops his voice while he talks, keeping it just above a growl. ]
I want you to wreck me. I mean-- really, really wreck me. Fuck me like a man. An alpha. Fuck me harder than you've ever fucked anyone else. Prove to me that it's worth giving you all the obedience and the submission that you've given me.
[ A pause. Derek shifts a few inches closer to Reggie, propping his neck against the armrest, squeezing Reggie's waist lightly with his knees. There's lube in the jeans Derek left at the base of the couch, which he'll silently direct Reggie to with a nod of his head. ]
And then - for the rest of tonight, if I think you did a good enough job, you're gonna be mine. Every single part of you. Mind, body, soul. I'll fuck you until daybreak. Not gonna stop, no matter how many times I make you come. No matter how exhausted you get. You're gonna be a mess, by the time I'm done with you. My mess.
no subject
Dominance and submission play a steady role in Reggie's relationships with Derek and Archie both, but with Archie, things usually tend to balance themselves out; they're friends and also very competitive friends, so while Archie usually holds a bit of a lead on Reggie, there's a lot of give and take (so to speak) between them.
Derek, though, established himself as an alpha right away, and not just in an easy-to-undermine-and-push-the-boundaries-of kind of way like Archie, but in a real way, one that fills Reggie with intimidation and admiration and yearning and respect all at once; Derek is what he's always idolized and thought he was supposed to be, although he's not that, and maybe he's okay with not being that. Yet... yet--
Because of all that, Derek surrendering himself to Reggie like this has a meaning to it that can't apply to most -- or any -- of his other relationships. It is a gesture of trust, and respect, and Reggie can recognize it as such because he shares in that complex relationship with masculinity, he shares the compulsion not to submit to someone unless they've earned it.
So this-- he understands it's significant.
And Reggie, for as much as he's grown to tolerate-- enjoy-- love? being fucked, he has so much more experience doing it this way; he isn't still so overwhelmed with discovery he mostly reacts by instinct and desire, he knows what he's doing and he's confident in it. His heart is racing now, not from nerves, but anticipation. ]
No problem. [ He smiles now, a little cheekily, kissing Derek on the mouth. ] I'll not only wreck you, I'll make sure you never forget it. You're gonna love it.
[ Reggie tugs on Derek's lower lip with his teeth briefly, then sits up to get the lube out of Derek's jeans, wasting no more time. He needs this, now-- he needs to be inside of Derek, he needs to feel him, and fill him, watch him fall apart and then somehow recover, and then he needs...
Well, one thing at a time. Reggie squeezes the lube into his palm, rubbing it thickly along his dick before he rubs his fingers together and slips his hand between Derek's legs, easing one finger right on in. ]
You're gonna dream about it later, and not just about how good I fucked you. [ He kisses him again, roughly, beginning to slot their hips together even though he's still only fingering him. ] But also about what it'd be like if I was yours. We could do this all the time. All night, whenever we wanted.
[ Reggie knows, of course, despite how much the two of them might enjoy each other's company, and fucking, what he's describing isn't what either of them would really want; as a fantasy, hell yes, but in actuality, they obviously have their respective Someone Else's to do that with.
Well-- Derek does, and Reggie did, but, the point stands. Mostly. ]
no subject
He feels all antsy and nervous, his stomach filled with static. Reggie kisses him and Derek doesn't react too much, other than slightly tilting his chin up to really feel the soft press of Reggie's full lips against his own. His eyelids flutter and he wills himself not to moan when he feels the sharp pinch of teeth against his lip, but he's getting harder and harder, anticipating what's to come more and more. Reggie tells him everything he's going to do to him, walks him through every moment he's about to experience, and Derek looks the way he always does - mildly angrily, vastly unimpressed. He's looking at Reggie like he's telling him what tomorrow's weather is going to be for, like, the eighth time in a row.
But the thing is - and Derek has never, ever admitted this, not even to himself - the thing is, there's a very greedy, slutty part of Derek that loves to get fucked. A part of him that wants nothing more than to cut through all the pressure and the power struggles and the masculinity he associates with being on top and to just get well and truly fucked. Stretched open, filled to the brim, made into somebody's personal whore. He's got the perfect ass for it - full, round, always virginally tight, given how rapidly his body heals - and he's so fucking sensitive. Derek looks at Reggie like he'd rather be anywhere other then here, but...
It's just a defense mechanism. Reggie barely eases the tip of his finger inside Derek before his knees are shaking a little and his back is arching away from the sofa, just half an inch, if that. His hands grab at anything they can reach for support, one hand holding Reggie's shoulder in a tight, painful grip, the other digging into the armrest he's resting his head against, and Derek takes a breath, holding it in his chest for as long as he can. Reggie slips his finger past the first knuckle and down to the second, and Derek exhales, shaky, color filling his cheeks as he grips down on Reggie's finger as tightly as he can. His cock flexes, precum smearing back against his stomach, and his toes are curling. Derek's losing his composure already.
And then Reggie presses forward, bringing them flush together, skin to skin, and he's not fucking him yet, but just the thought of it makes Derek release this guttural, growling moan from the back of his throat. He squeezes his eyes shut so he doesn't have to see Reggie's face as his own burns a little brighter, and when Reggie takes another kiss from him, Derek pointedly refuses to engage. He's incredibly easy to read like this - all wanton and needy and willing to give himself up to Reggie in any way he wants him, and the way he doesn't kiss Reggie back makes it obvious that he's still clutching onto some proud sense of masculinity that makes it difficult for him to fully lean into the feeling.
But that'll change. Reggie said something about being his, too, and the mix of all this submission and dominance that Derek thrives on is already making him feel like he could come. He takes a deep breath, forcing himself to look Reggie in the eye, but that only lasts for a second before he's darting his gaze away and staring at Reggie's chin, his neck, the shoulder he's still holding on to. Safe spots. ]
If you were mine - really mine - [ His voice is gravelly and sort of hesitant, like it's tripping over itself, but he clears his throat and keeps it stern and steady as he talks - ] - you'd never leave my bed. All day, all night, you'd just-- you'd... you'd, uh...
[ They've barely touched each other, but Reggie does something with his finger that makes Derek lose his train of thought, and he reaches his hand down from Reggie's shoulder and grabs his wrist as tightly as he can, holding Reggie's hand still. He takes a breath, looks up at Reggie, and-- he smiles now, laughing, weak and fragile as he lets his wrist go. ]
F-fuck. Careful. You're gonna make me come already.
no subject
[ Reggie laughs a little too, smiling back in a natural, genuine sort of way that's so easy he doesn't even notice it.
He wants this to be good, he wants it to be incredible for the both of them, and he gets it-- really, he does. Maybe he and Derek aren't exactly the same, but obviously he understands the exact nature of most of Derek's hang-ups about submission, and he shared them, but unlike Derek, Reggie crumbled almost immediately.
It's not that he can't be dominant, Reggie can do this, and he can front and posture until he passes as dominant, but that secret part of Derek that exists in him exists in Reggie too, almost to a T, shamefully hidden until Nick pulled it free and exposed Reggie to it until he started fearing it less and less. Derek's seen that side of Reggie, too, the side that's usually for Nick's eyes only, but that's exactly why Reggie feels like he can do this-- he knows, fuck, he knows. ]
I'd do what?
[ Reggie leans over Derek, kissing his neck and inserting a second finger, rocking the two of them within the tight clench of Derek's ass with impatient but careful flexes of his wrist. ]
And how would you keep me there?
[ He's trying to keep Derek focused, and balanced, because now Reggie's fingers are easing out and his cock, hard and already dripping, is rubbing the place against Derek's ass where they'd just been-- but also Reggie's a little greedy, too, he wants to hear this, wants Derek to intimately describe the ways he'd want Reggie and all the things he would do, but that's still only secondary to what's actually happening now.
Reggie pushes in, cupping Derek's face with one hand to kiss him roughly while he buries himself halfway deep in one, two fluid thrusts, his muscles flexing and clenching, his body slotting so naturally against Derek's that a rhythm practically creates itself after one or two more back-and-forward rocks of his hips. ]
It's okay-- [ Panted, against Derek's mouth. ] Don't come yet, you'd better not. You need to last at least as long as I do.
[ As much as Reggie tends to naturally default more submissive when he isn't trying hard to present himself as dominant, he isn't really purely one or the other, and that versatility is perhaps most readily obvious whenever he is in the more dominant position; he becomes kind of a mixture, comfortable with taking the lead, but also ready to adapt in seconds to whatever his partner needs him to be.
He thrusts in again, deep, until he's buried to the hilt. ]
And then I'll be all yours to do whatever you want to. It'll be so worth it.