[ Do your job, Reggie says. Derek's mouth goes a little dry, those three words making him feel this weird mix of needy, submissive arousal and combative, stubborn dominance he doesn't really know how to separate. He tries to keep the smirk going, but it falters when he looks Reggie in the eyes - Derek honestly can't tell if he wants to be on his knees for this guy or if he wants to treat him like a piece of meat. In the end, he does a sarcastic little salute and acts like he's still in control, but he can't hide the sincerity in his voice when he answers. ]
Yes, sir. Anything you want.
[ Derek drags his teeth over Reggie's throat in one quick, hasty kiss, peeling away from him and readjusting his position. It's a tight fit and not the most comfortable he's ever been, but Derek finds himself kneeling on the opposite end of the seat between Reggie's legs, and he stretches his shoulders, easing the already rapidly healing aches in his body (thanks, lycanthropy) as if he's getting ready for another hard day's work. He doesn't waste any more time than he needs to, sinking low and anchoring his lips to the underside of Reggie's cock, dragging his tongue along its length until it's nice and wet.
He takes it slow. Slower than last time, at least. He's not trying to tease him, though with each frustratingly gentle kiss and each barely-there swipe of his tongue, that might be an unintended consequence - he's being slow to ease Reggie back into the feeling of getting his dick sucked, given how tired and sore he's acting, and a part of him wonders if it would be too fucked up to use his dumb superpower to take a person's pain away and make them hit their physical peak for sex. Derek's got his palm softly squeezing the head of Reggie's dick as he looks up at him from between his legs. He thinks he's going to ask if Reggie wants that, or-- or if he wants him to go a little faster or work a little harder or something, but instead-- ]
You can, like - pull my hair. [ He swallows, gliding his palm up and down. ] Like you did before? If you want.
no subject
Yes, sir. Anything you want.
[ Derek drags his teeth over Reggie's throat in one quick, hasty kiss, peeling away from him and readjusting his position. It's a tight fit and not the most comfortable he's ever been, but Derek finds himself kneeling on the opposite end of the seat between Reggie's legs, and he stretches his shoulders, easing the already rapidly healing aches in his body (thanks, lycanthropy) as if he's getting ready for another hard day's work. He doesn't waste any more time than he needs to, sinking low and anchoring his lips to the underside of Reggie's cock, dragging his tongue along its length until it's nice and wet.
He takes it slow. Slower than last time, at least. He's not trying to tease him, though with each frustratingly gentle kiss and each barely-there swipe of his tongue, that might be an unintended consequence - he's being slow to ease Reggie back into the feeling of getting his dick sucked, given how tired and sore he's acting, and a part of him wonders if it would be too fucked up to use his dumb superpower to take a person's pain away and make them hit their physical peak for sex. Derek's got his palm softly squeezing the head of Reggie's dick as he looks up at him from between his legs. He thinks he's going to ask if Reggie wants that, or-- or if he wants him to go a little faster or work a little harder or something, but instead-- ]
You can, like - pull my hair. [ He swallows, gliding his palm up and down. ] Like you did before? If you want.