[ Derek doesn't answer Reggie's question, at first - he leans casually against the kitchen counter after pouring himself a drink of his own, sipping his first mouthful before sighing through his teeth. His eyes rake over Reggie's the way they have a million times before, taking in his posture, his strength; Derek thinks he's really grown into himself since the first time they met a couple years back, but he doubts that now's the appropriate time to say he's happy to know the man that Reggie became. Still something he thinks about.
He finishes his drink, waits for Reggie to do the same, then takes a few decisive steps forward, setting his hand flat against Reggie's chest. There's the camera to attend to, the setup to establish, but that doesn't stop Derek from curling his fist in his shirt and pulling him in for a sharp, furious kiss. His teeth are sharp against Reggie's bottom lip, his tongue heavy and commanding, and when he pulls back, bridge of spit connecting the two of them together before it breaks, he keeps his eyes on Reggie's lips. Always has been Derek's favourite part of him. ]
Could fuck you right here. Right against the wall. The counter, the table. Marathon session against every surface.
You could. [ Reggie watches Derek's gaze travel over him, wets his lips, leans his hip and arm against the counter. ] I mean, you're the Alpha, and what am I? Yours, to do whatever you want with.
[ He smirks again, cheeky as he finishes his drink, barely having any time to react to Derek's closeness before Derek's mouth is on his kissing hungrily, and Reggie leans back, whining against Derek's mouth, fingers clutching a fistful of his shirt.
When they break apart again, Reggie's lips glossy and shining, he feels the flush of heat and adrenaline traveling through his body like the crack of a whip, his cock already half-hard in his jeans, heart already racing. It isn't just horniness -- although there certainly is that -- but the factor of intimacy too that's getting Reggie's hormones engaged like this, hot like a overloading furnace, like sparks from a fire he no longer has any control over. With Nick gone, there's rarely anywhere for all that heat to go, but while he may not know what Derek's thinking, he's always felt safe with him, understood in ways he couldn't possibly put a voice to, always, or almost.
Reggie pulls at Derek's shirt again, already fumbling to open his belt, tearing through the leather almost like he's forgotten about the cameras entirely in his sudden rush of impatience and need. ]
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He finishes his drink, waits for Reggie to do the same, then takes a few decisive steps forward, setting his hand flat against Reggie's chest. There's the camera to attend to, the setup to establish, but that doesn't stop Derek from curling his fist in his shirt and pulling him in for a sharp, furious kiss. His teeth are sharp against Reggie's bottom lip, his tongue heavy and commanding, and when he pulls back, bridge of spit connecting the two of them together before it breaks, he keeps his eyes on Reggie's lips. Always has been Derek's favourite part of him. ]
Could fuck you right here. Right against the wall. The counter, the table. Marathon session against every surface.
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[ He smirks again, cheeky as he finishes his drink, barely having any time to react to Derek's closeness before Derek's mouth is on his kissing hungrily, and Reggie leans back, whining against Derek's mouth, fingers clutching a fistful of his shirt.
When they break apart again, Reggie's lips glossy and shining, he feels the flush of heat and adrenaline traveling through his body like the crack of a whip, his cock already half-hard in his jeans, heart already racing. It isn't just horniness -- although there certainly is that -- but the factor of intimacy too that's getting Reggie's hormones engaged like this, hot like a overloading furnace, like sparks from a fire he no longer has any control over. With Nick gone, there's rarely anywhere for all that heat to go, but while he may not know what Derek's thinking, he's always felt safe with him, understood in ways he couldn't possibly put a voice to, always, or almost.
Reggie pulls at Derek's shirt again, already fumbling to open his belt, tearing through the leather almost like he's forgotten about the cameras entirely in his sudden rush of impatience and need. ]
Derek...