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bragnificent) wrote2017-02-27 07:58 am
bragnificent) wrote2017-02-27 07:58 am
Entry tags:
IC CONTACT ➛ mask or menace.
❝ Ｙｏ， ｙｏｕ ｇｏｔ Ｒｅｇｇｉｅ． Ｌｅａｖｅ ｉｔ！ ❞ ( ♪ )
❝ Ｙｏ， ｙｏｕ ｇｏｔ Ｒｅｇｇｉｅ． Ｌｅａｖｅ ｉｔ！ ❞ ( ♪ )
❝ Ｙｏ， ｙｏｕ ｇｏｔ Ｒｅｇｇｉｅ． Ｌｅａｖｅ ｉｔ！ ❞ ( ♪ )
no subject
But then Reggie's thigh presses into his palm, and Derek's grin is back, happy and smug and blindly ignorant to the possibility that this could just be a particularly advanced level of Gay Chicken. It's not rejection, at least. He's always been bad with rejection. ]
Both. More. If you want.
[ Reggie's not looking at him, but Derek's trying to hold eye contact, pressing his lips together to subdue that stupid smile. He wants to pull over, but Derek's a little shit, so he drags his hand up higher and finds Reggie's belt, figuring he'll either get told to fuck off and find victory in that or end up freaking the dude out by blowing him while he's on the road. Both would be fun. ]
I mean - [ He leans forward and tugs on Reggie's belt with both hands, sliding the pin through its hole, looking up from below him. ] I don't have to get you off. Could just go play basketball and send your ass home after I destroy you. Fuck, you could just kick me out of the car right now, if you wanted to. Your call.
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Often that means a fight, but it doesn't always have to. He doesn't always want it to. But it's hard to get results with guys, sometimes; this is the first time Reggie's gotten results like this, and he likes it. Not just because he's an oversexed teenage boy who, like many of those who share that condition, thinks with his dick far too often, but for a whole host of reasons.
That one, yes, for sure, but also, he's thought about Derek before (not that he would admit it); the flattery, the challenge, the competitive frustration that stops just sort of dislike because it's too damn enjoyable; that he hasn't touched a dick that wasn't his in about six months now. Six months. People like to think of him as some arrogant player who can't keep his dick in his pants, but he's been good. He didn't step out even when he could have, but the burn of recent rejection and the possible loss of his monogamous-in-practice FWB is still fresh.
And the best medicine for that is, of course, sex. Both. More. Fuck, of course he wants.
Reggie wets his lips again, trying not to react much visibly, and lets his foot ease a bit harder on the gas pedal. ]
We can still play basketball. We can play basketball any time. But I want what you want, bro. Just don't start anything you're not gonna finish.
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For all his cocky bullshit, Derek keeps his face as neutral as he can when he slips his fingers beneath Reggie's waistband and gently fishes out what's inside. Derek's pretty lucky, but he's sure as shit not going to act impressed if Reggie's still got a bigger cock than he does. His reliance on all these assets that are balls deep inside of toxic masculinity has made his ego fragile enough that he would straight up rather die than lose that battle.
Derek takes a long, deep breath, Reggie's cock in his hand, pumping in long, languid strokes. He wets his lips, looks back up to Reggie, almost in a daze. What the fuck is he talking about? Basketball? Oh, right. Basketball. ]
I'm gonna, like - have your eyes rolling into the back of your head in a few minutes. You're gonna be fucking my mouth as hard as you can and screaming when you blow. Kiiinda wanna see that more than I wanna see you crying on the side of the court after I beat your ass in a game.
[ They're on a long stretch of road and Derek can hear other cars being left behind when Reggie speeds past them, and there's something about the thought of being seen if someone just looks out their window that has Derek's cock achingly hard in his jeans. He strokes Reggie a little faster, leaning in to press his lips to the base of his cock, dragging his tongue upwards and stopping just before his head. "Don't start anything you're not gonna finish" - fuck that. Derek already wants this to be a regular thing. Reggie's gonna get hooked on him. ]
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[ It's all he can manage, and even that comes out almost uncharacteristically soft, for Reggie "Big Mouth" Mantle. He bites the corner of his lip, trying to keep his brain and his vision focused on the road, but he is hard as hell already and doesn't want to do anything that might scare Derek off of continuing to do what he's currently doing. Reggie's pretty lucky himself and damn proud of that fact, very vocal in the face of critics about how lazy an assumption it is to make, because that's his least favorite stereotype.
The car weaves just a bit. Not dramatically, but it's not driving perfectly straight anymore, either. Reggie can barely pay attention to the road or even think about what to say, what he might want to say; all he can do is breathe hard, his face vaguely flushed with heat. ]
Well, I don't cry. And I don't lose. But I-- ahhhhhh-- fuck, I-- [ God. He swallows, both to help him find the words and because his throat is dry. ] When you're done, I'm-- I wanna pull over.
[ Because there's only so much that can happen while he's still driving. But this... well, it's a little like a drag race in that sense. Seeing how far they can get before having to swerve. ]
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One last obnoxious, challenging smirk, and then it's time to shut the fuck up. ]
Whatever you want, bro.
[ He seals his lips around Reggie's cock and starts things off with one hard suck, minding his teeth and putting as much tight, wet pressure into what he's doing as he can. He hasn't-- he doesn't really do this, he's used to being on the other side of things, but he knows what he likes and he's determined to make this the dirtiest, hottest blowjob Reggie's ever had. That he ever will have. He breathes through his nose and swirls his tongue over Reggie's head, pressing the tip of it against every sensitive nerve, tasting whatever part he can reach. He's not sure he'll be able to swallow all of him, but he's sure as fuck gonna try.
Derek edges down an inch, then another, taking slow, careful laps over the underside of Reggie's dick until he can feel it pressing against the back of his throat. He tries to breathe through it but he can't, pulling off with a hard, wet pop, wiping his lips on the back of his hand and immediately diving back down and trying again. He gets as much of Reggie in his mouth as he can and focuses again on deep, hard sucks, finding a rhythm and a vacuum and and filling the car with the dirty sounds of a shameless horndog doing his god damn best. ]
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(At least, as far as he can tell.)
Biting back a groan (not for the first time nor the last time), Reggie determines that now is a good time to try and keep talking-- while Derek can't really talk back. ]
I want you to-- [ Finish blowing him. Bang him. Ride him, choke him with his-- he wants everything that Derek wants, whatever the hell they have the time and stamina for, really. It's moments like this that remind Reggie how much sex he hasn't been having lately, how touch-starved he can really be. ] We have the backseat and the hood. Either/or, I don't care.
[ Either/or. Both. Reggie just wants it, period. Wants Derek. Shit he absolutely can't admit outloud in those specific words. He takes one hand off the wheel and digs his fingers into Derek's hair, pushing and holding his head down with only a mild amount of force-- not enough to hold him there, but enough that Reggie can get some good hair-pulls in, the more tightly his fingers grip. It's annoying that he can't actually watch Derek doing this, not from this angle nor while he has to try to keep his car on the road, but the noises Derek's making, his tight, warm mouth and the subtle threat of fangs, are certainly helping move Reggie along regardless.
Smirking a little, still breathing hard, Reggie says: ]
FYI, I can tell you haven't done this before.
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The hand in his hair is kind of annoying, as is the feeling that Reggie could force himself as deep as he can into Derek and make him gag the second he decides it might be funny - but he deals with it. The harder Reggie is with Derek, the harder he'll be able to give it back to him later, so he grunts and only shows enough of a token resistance to protect his masculinity when Reggie pulls his hair and guides him through this.
Derek's still treating this like a challenge and making strides towards filling his throat with Reggie's cock, learning how to breathe around it as he goes. He's fighting against the urge to gag by swallowing Reggie hard and stroking him through it, mentally willing away the need to choke. It's the hard breathing that's really urging him on, keeping him focused; Reg isn't screaming, he isn't bucking up into him hard enough to smack his balls on Derek's chin like he's some slutty blonde chick in a porno, but there's something just as riveting in the quietly appreciative rise and fall of his stomach. Something more real.
But then Reggie calls him the fuck out and Derek ends up coughing and pulling back, catching a breath as he wipes his mouth and breaks the bridge of spit still connecting his lips to Reggie's dick. ]
Fuck you? [ He's pissed off but he's also trying hard not to laugh, and that's the feeling that got him attracted enough to Reggie to do this in the first place. ] I'll stop, then.
[ It's an empty threat. There's color in his cheeks and the tips of his ears are red, but he's still hard as fuck, straining tight against his jeans as he scratches his hair where Reggie's hand had been. He's still hovering close to Reggie's dick, still has one hand stroking it in slick, wet pumps, twisting his palm over the tip and raising his eyebrows. Still wants this. ]
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They make brief eye contact, before Reggie's eyes have to return to the road again. He shakes his head, trying to still seem in control. Collected. It's hard, but he clears his throat in an effort to keep his voice steady even through his breathing and a hoarse veil of mid-oral lust-- it's only somewhat effective. The best he can do, especially with Derek's hand still on him. ]
No you won't. If you stop then just what do you think's gonna happen next? I still pull over and let you screw me? You're dreaming.
[ Reggie doesn't mind Derek's inexperience at all, because in Derek's case it obviously only means he's going to try harder, especially if Reggie goads him through it. Maybe it's a little clumsy and inelegant, but hell, all blowjobs are a little clumsy and inelegant as it is. It's good, and makes Reggie both eager and a little bit intimidated to imagine what might happen next. Still in a good way.
He doesn't want to say "please," he absolutely doesn't, but he does dig his fingers briefly back in to Derek's hair, before letting them trail down his cheek, trace his jaw, and then return to the steering wheel. ]
Come on, keep going. It's hot.
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The fingers in his hair are tight enough for Derek to tense his shoulders, but so much of that agitation dissipates when Reggie's touch comes a little softer. The change in Derek is pretty fucking instantaneous; this kind of soothing affection is something he craves, and whatever guard he was building up crumbles as his heart lodges in his throat and he breathes out a steady, grounding breath. Reggie says it's hot and Derek feels a bit like a clingy girlfriend being told she's pretty so she'll keep putting out, but.
Fuck it. ]
Whatever, douchebag. Acting like you're not desperate for me to fuck you. Douchebag. Fuckin' douche.
[ Douche. He can hear the smile in his own voice and that pisses him off, but he doesn't let himself think about it. Derek holds Reggie's dick by the base and goes slower, this time, rather than throwing himself in at eleven. A couple of minutes pass in quiet, gentle silence, Derek eventually shutting his eyes and just listening to the growingly eager sounds of his mouth on another dude's dick and the strained breathing that he thinks is his own but blurs with Reggie's too much to tell.
He gets about halfway down Reggie's dick, feeling his mouth fill up with him and also feeling pretty certain he's gonna end up with lockjaw by morning, when he takes Reggie's balls in his hand and softly tugs, lightly massages. He snakes his other hand up Reggie's waist, not really able to reach much bare skin under his shirt because of the whole awkward, clumsy, driving-a-car position they're in, but he strokes the side of his thumb over his hip and rests his palm flat against his stomach. Derek gets so into what he's doing that he doesn't realize he's making these little noises in the back of his throat, soft and barely there but so fucking needy, and when he blearily opens his eyes again and takes more of Reggie, more of him, more, he ends up with his nose pressed flat against his skin. He deepthroats him for a good five or six seconds before he has to slide off again, inhaling hard.
He doesn't cough, but he smiles, and it's kind of hard to suck a dick when you're smiling. He feels like he won something. Feels like he's winning a lot tonight. ]
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Oh, ffffu-- ck.
[ He is desperate, which he won't admit but neither does he deny, shifting his hips slightly on the seat so he can buck a bit into Derek's rhythm, groaning more often and more loudly the closer to finishing he starts to feel. He doesn't want to come just yet, but he isn't sure how much longer he can hold out-- Derek's mouth, his noises, it's too fucking much. ]
Yes-- ugh, jesus. Fuck, yeah, like that. I can't even look down right now, but I can imagine how hot you look with my dick that far down your throat, dude. [ Reggie's voice is hoarse, periodically interrupted with groins and little noises of his own. ] Huh-- hotter. You're already-- shit, I have to pull over. I'm gonna come in like, 10 seconds.
[ And if he doesn't pull over now, Reggie feels certain he will crash. He has to pull over quickly, a little more sharply than intended, but just in time; he comes almost as soon as he's killed the engine, and uses the opportunity to dig his hands into his own hair and just be as loud as he needs to.
And Reggie is always rather loud. ]
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Reggie hits the brakes sharp enough for Derek to almost slip out of his seat, but he digs his fingernails tight into Reggie's thighs and manages to hold on for balance. The big, scary werewolf claws don't come out, thankfully, but - it's a close call. Got lucky.
The first shot of Reggie's climax hits Derek's cheek and he's desperate not to miss any more, sealing his lips as tight as he can around Reggie's dick and doing everything he can to drain him dry. Reggie's finally making all that noise Derek was desperate to hear and he does everything he can to coax him through it, sucking hard and sloppy and jerking him off as fast as he can, making all these greedy, filthy noises of his own. His hand is splayed on Reggie's stomach again, holding his hips against the leather seat so Derek doesn't end up choking to death on his load, but he takes it all and only eases off when Reggie's well and truly spent.
Spitters are quitters. Derek doesn't draw attention to himself when he swallows, but. He swallows. He drops back into his seat, catching his breath and stretching his legs with a smug, satisfied pop. Still pretty god damn proud of himself. ]
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[ Reggie takes a moment to just try to catch his breath, still high on everything that just happened-- the climax, Derek's vacuum seal on him just moments ago, those fucking noises, Derek swallowing... he folds his arms over the top of the steering wheel and lets his head rest against them for a moment, then looks over at Derek and fumbles his seat belt off. Leans over the seat and grabs Derek by the hair again to try to pull him into a kiss. Smirks cheekily as he does so.]
Not too bad, for a beginner. Pretty good job, actually. If you're even able to talk later.
[ Reggie's never had anyone deep throat him like that before, let alone swallow afterward. He can taste himself when he puts his mouth against Derek's, which maybe some would find nasty but Reggie finds particularly hot. Fuck, Derek's hot. Reggie hates that it's come to this, but he also really, really doesn't. He leans over more, unbuckling Derek's seat belt, too, wanting--
Just wanting. ]
You good? Can we--
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But he wants this, too. Reggie lets go of his hair and takes off his seatbelt and Derek doesn't have that low-burning, steady grasp on things that he has when he's older. He doesn't have it in him to play it cool when he's this horny; he's eager and clumsy when he rolls his hips off his seat and climbs over the gearstick between them to straddle Reggie's waist, wiping his cheek clean once he's settled on his lap. It's a tight fit but they're not going to stay here for long - just long enough for Derek to put his hands on either side of Reggie's neck and lean in for a second kiss, biting at his bottom lip harder than might be necessary and tangling his fingers in Reggie's hair. He's slipping his tongue between Reggie's lips and grinding him back into his seat, only breaking the kiss when he needs to come up for air. Can't hide the urgent impatience in his voice when he answers that question. ]
Hood or back seat?
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He might be able to tell Derek's a little prickly from the lack of more praise, and Reggie is strangely endeared by the thought because he's exactly the same way, even while also liking to withhold the full extent of what he could say to see if that makes his partner want to try even harder. Make him say it. Whatever. To Reggie it should be okay, because of what he's going to do Derek next.
Groaning quietly -- for once, only because it's mostly breath than vocals -- Reggie lets his hands find Derek's waist, his ass, gripping him tightly during the kiss before those hands both explore elsewhere now that they finally can; one trails to feel up Derek's buff arms and stomach slowly, appreciatively, then is back to feeling the strong lines of Derek's face. The other cups Derek's erection, rubbing it slowly through his jeans. ]
Let's get some air.
[ So, hood. ]
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Okay. Okay, fuck, just-- come on, okay? I can't wait anymore, I need-- [ Derek swallows hard, shaking his head and chasing away whatever it is he was halfway through saying. Sounded too close to begging. He's not gonna beg. He untangles himself from Reggie and blindly paws at the door, getting annoyed enough to whisper a harsh god damn it under his breath when he's too agitated to find the handle in the dark. Eventually, he gets the door open, climbing out the driver's seat and reaching back in to grab Reggie by the shirt, pulling him out onto the grass with one hard tug. ]
Fuck. Fuck, okay.
[ Once Reggie's on his feet, Derek doesn't waste any time pushing him against the car for another kiss, blindly staggering backwards when he tries to guide him to the hood without breaking away. He nearly trips over a couple times on the way, but they get there in the end, cool air blowing over Derek's skin as he easily and lazily hoists Reggie onto the front of his car. Werewolf strength. ]
Off -- off with these. Get these off. [ He's tugging on Reggie's pants, trying to strip him bare. They're close to a streetlight and Derek can still see cars passing by some distance away, but they should be fine where they are. Right now, he doesn't care if they're not. ]
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He kisses Derek back roughly, grazing sharp teeth with his tongue, as he toes one shoe and then the other off so he can shed himself of his jeans and slide down his underwear-- not all the way, but enough. Derek's strength is somehow surprising (though it shouldn't be), but he's into it; Reggie digs his hands back into Derek's hair, legs wrapping around Derek's waist to pull and hold him close. Reggie almost regrets that he's already gotten off, because by the time he's hard again they'll probably be too tired to continue, but on the other hand he doesn't regret it even slightly. The image of Derek sucking him off, looking up at him from under those thick eyebrows, his wet mouth taking Reggie's entire dick in and treating it so well... all of that will stay with him for a while.
He's also not one to beg, but it's hard. Reggie can never stop himself from saying something. ]
Jesus. [ He pauses to breathe, nearly panting. ] You're fucking hot, do you know that?
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He dips forward, swiping his tongue over Reggie's bottom lip, lightly sucking. He drops his hand to Reggie's hip and drags him even closer, breaking back to look him in the eye, smirking like the smug piece of shit he is. He strokes his own dick in long, tugging twists, and he thinks that they should-- prepare, they need lube and rubbers and all that shit, but he's heady and out of it and always been a bit of an animal. He'll wing it. They'll wing it. ]
That's what I've been saying, dumbass. Hot as fuck, good at everything. Kinda my whole deal.
[ Derek brings two fingers to his mouth and sucks, getting them wet, coating them with whatever saliva he has left after blowing Reggie. He makes a show of it, because that's just the way he is, and when they're slick and ready he drops his hand to Reggie's ass, urging him to spread his legs a little wider and barely taking the time to raise his eyebrows and silently ask if he's ready before he's carefully pressing his fingertips against Reggie's hole. He clenches his jaw and holds eye contact, wanting to keep Reggie talking. Wanting to hear his voice. ]
You're pretty hot too, I guess. I mean, you're alright.
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[ Because Reggie wouldn't be Reggie if he let compliments like that come easily-- no, that shit has to be earned, and usually on a one-at-a-time basis until the relationship gets friendlier. (And no, sex doesn't count as "friendly.")
Derek is fucking annoying in a way that reminds Reggie why he prefers to hang out with guys who big, dumb, and agreeable, people he can tell what to do and they'll usually jump when he says to because they trust him, he's smart, the idea guy. He doesn't hang out with guys who are just like him, because they fucking drive him crazy. All he'd ever do is want to fight the guy, and want to... well.
Still, the strange narcissism of the situation is mostly lost on him, Reggie's big step toward self-awareness only being that he'd say that exact same fucking thing. In fact: ]
And I know I'm hot. And the best at what I do. At least I always actually know what I'm doing, so you should really be more grateful.
[ Now isn't the time to be teasing and talking shit, but as always, Reggie can't help himself. Anyway, it helps distract from how loudly he feels like his heart is beating, in his chest and at his temples. He presses one hand to the car's metal surface, making it easier for him to adjust himself and open his legs wider, and then raises the hand back up to spit in his palm and start spreading that wetness to length of Derek's dick with slow strokes. He makes a noise when Derek's fingers touch him, a couple of them, something between a sharp breath and a groan, but bites his lip to keep more from escaping. ]
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He's practically melting in his hand, standing on tiptoes and easing forward in a silent plea for Reggie to keep touching him. He doesn't know how long he's going to last, but he does know he wants to turn Reggie into a mess by the time they're done here, so he's gonna have to go hard and fast until the car is shaking beneath them and Reggie's moaning as loud as he was when he came. If he can't make him do that, well - there'll be next time, Derek thinks. Practice makes perfect.
He closes his eyes, steadying himself, and eases one finger into Reggie, then another. He's tight and he's hot and it's already scrambling Derek's brain a bit, only one knuckle deep but already losing his mind over how fucking good this is going to feel. His fingers stretch Reggie out in careless, rapid fucks, and maybe he rushes things, maybe he should spend more time getting him comfortable, but he eases his hand away and grabs Reggie's wrist, helping him guide the head of Derek's cock forward. Derek's breaths are labored and his voice is shaky, but he's determined to act like he's not half as turned on as he is, still not really sure how he was lucky enough to end up here. ]
You should be more grateful. Do you know how many people would kill to be you right now? You're...
[ Derek trails off. There's more that he could say but Derek shuts himself up by pressing his lips to Reggie's neck, sucking hard for a good few seconds before adding teeth. He slips one arm behind Reggie's back and the other around his waist, digging his fingernails into his skin, stretching Reggie out on the head of his cock and bucking forward, entering him with his first few inches. He gasps hard and clenches his arms tight, holding Reggie for dear life. ]
Holy fuck. Holy fuck, dude, you're-- [ His jaw hangs open in a silent moan and he's too fucked up to know what to say, talking blearily into the bridge between Reggie's neck and shoulder. ] Jesus fucking Christ.
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It won't work that way this time. If Derek really is that much like Reggie, being told what to do will be a wildcard option; maybe he'll do it, maybe he'll do it and be vocally smug the entire time, maybe he'll be withholding or contrary. Reggie doesn't know, and he's surprised that he doesn't mind not knowing.
Reggie leans back a bit more against the car, bracing himself with his hand once it's free again and breathing in sharp, rapid huffs. He shakes his head. ]
Why would I be gratef-- oh-- oh, ffffuuuuck...
[ The roughness of Derek's fingering, the biting, the nails, all of it, seems potentially unpleasant at first, but Reggie has quickly comes around on that opinion. Feeling lightheaded, he tightens his legs around Derek's waist, trying to pull their hips together closer, deeper; If Derek could take all of him, Reggie can surely do the same. His hands find a place on Derek's lower back, scratching skin as they grip him tightly. ]
Uuuughhhhhmy god, I-- [ At the moment he can only breathe, not banter, but because he loves flattery he manages: ] I'm what?
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Derek's grin is back, hazy but still sharp fanged and confident. He plants another few relaxed kisses to Reggie's neck and drags his tongue up to his throat, fighting away the urge to blow that's already starting to build at the base of his dick. He feels that same wildcard energy in Reggie - all Derek really knows about him is that he responds to flattery, has an amazing ass and a cock that he, right now, feels like he could spend the rest of his life with. He doesn't know what to say or what to do to get what he wants from him, he doesn't know what he has to do to ensure their friendship.
But he thinks he's doing a pretty good job so far. He's winning him over, he thinks. Maybe.
Reggie's stretched tight around him and Derek has this vague, shapeless worry in the back of his mind that he might hurt the poor guy if he goes in any further without giving him time to adjust. Regardless, Reggie drags him forward and Derek's too lost in the moment to resist. He clenches his teeth to bite back a moan but just ends up grunting even harder than he would have, letting loose this guttural, low sound that rumbles hard from deep in his chest as he fucks into Reggie. It takes a bit of time, but soon he's bottoming out and he can feel himself starting to sweat, skin to skin and suffocating in tight, squeezing heat from all sides.
He needs more room to move. He pushes Reggie back, laying him down against the hood of the car. Derek's still wearing his shirt and it's getting in the way, so he pulls it up over his head and throws it lazily in the dirt, gripping Reggie's shoulders and holding eye contact. ]
You're-- [ He pulls back and thrusts forward, one hard jab that has the car shaking and Derek's legs going tense. ] You're fucking-- insanely-- insanely, insanely hot. You're perfect. You're tight.
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He wonders if Derek will remember this, if things go back to normal. Reggie can't be sure they will, sometimes people just change and stay that way here, but if this Derek goes away and the older, surlier one replaces him again, will he still remember? Reggie doesn't even know if he'd want that... but part of him does. Most of him wants to still dislike Derek on principle, but part of him still wants Derek to not stop wanting him.
Reggie's legs weakly start laxing their grip on Derek's waist, thigh muscles twitching as they fall open wider. He tilts his head back, panting, moaning, grabbing at his dick in the hopes he can rush himself hard again. He wants to get off again so fucking bad. ]
I know-- I know I am. [ Pant, groan. ] And you're-- you're so...
[ He doesn't know how to say what he's feeling, or rather, it's the kind of thing Reggie hates saying aloud. He's needed this, someone who wants him like this, who can blow him and fuck him like this, savage and spontaneous and eagerly. But he can't say that. He sits up slightly without leaning forward, bracing again on his palms. ]
I don't know how you know what I want. Like you get me, but-- [ That thought doesn't make sense to Reggie, even after he hears himself say it. ] So just do it however you-- it's okay. Don't go easy.
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"Don't go easy". It's like a switch has been flipped in his head, a spark that ignites something primal in him. His lungs seize up and he grips Reggie's thighs, holding him to his waist when he starts to slip, keeping him there hard enough to leave white marks in his skin where his fingers dig in. Every conscious thought in his head is overwhelmed by this angry, possessive need to make Reggie his. It's the same feeling he had when all of this started - that need to fuck him and claim him and paint him with cum, to mark him and have him and be the best. The alpha.
Reggie says he gets him, and Derek takes that to mean there's a connection here, however physical it might be. He gets that. He feels that, too. ]
Just lay back and enjoy this. Okay? I'll take care of you. I wanna make you feel better than you've ever felt.
[ Derek lifts Reggie's legs up a little higher, trying to make this comfortable for the both of them before he steadily finds his rhythm. He pulls his hips back and slams into Reggie, harder this time, grunting and twisting his foot in the ground to keep his balance. Each thrust comes hard and slow and sooner rather than later it feels like Reggie's body is just accepting him, taking his cock like he needs it as badly as Derek needs to give it to him. He sinks forward into Reggie with a roll of his hips and holds himself in, hunching his body forward, this thick, heavy weight over Reggie pinning him in place.
When he starts to fuck a little faster, he starts to really fuck a little faster. He doesn't bother trying to keep his voice down - Reggie's making him moan like he never has before, thighs slapping against his ass as he jackhammers his dick in and out of him without any real precision. The car's hood is creaking under them like it's trying not to dent, Derek's abs are tensed tight as he throws his entire body into this and he can't stop staring at Reggie, lost in all the faces he's making. There's nothing around them but the night and the breeze and the cars on the road, but a thrill runs up Derek's dick when he imagines Reggie screaming so loud that someone finds them. ]
Fuck. Ffffffffuck.
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He didn't expect this. Even when they were in his car, even when they first were getting started, he imagined something a lot more controlled, a lot more combative, a lot more like a typical wham-bam moment of passion hook-up between two like-minded individuals. Instead it feels more like he's offered himself up to Derek, offered up his body in the car and now on the car, and he can't stop himself. Nor does he want to, which is what really burns him up. He wants to argue, scratch, bite, defend his own masculinity and (in his mind) alpha status somehow, but he only nods. Digs his fingernails into Derek's lower back when he leans over him. Whatever this is, he doesn't want it to stop. ]
Okay... okay.
[ But he is, in fact, starting to getting louder, and oblivious to his own volume. He puts a hand over his mouth, but even that doesn't do much to stifle him. His poor car is the furthest thing from his mind right now, as is their location. All that matters is just him and Derek until further notice. ]
Ahhhh... jesus. Jesus, Derek-- fuck, yes, like that. Please, just... ughhhh... [ He clears his throat, trying to recover: ] You better not fall in love with me.
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He wants to fuck Reggie deeper, wants to make him really, really feel every inch of his dick - he lifts his leg and sets his foot against the car's bumper, smudging it with his sneaker and dragging Reggie down the hood a little further. He hooks Reggie's knee over his shoulder and it's a pretty bold position, Derek's muscles aching from the effort of holding him close, Reggie's legs spread around him like a girl after prom, but. This is what he wants. He wants to make Reggie feel like a slut. ]
You-- [ He rams in, punctuating his point. ] --need to worry more about falling in love with me.
[ He picks up the pace but it's only a few minutes before his thrusts come staggered and he can feel what's coming. It's too early. He knows it's too early, he doesn't want this to end, but-- but he's been craving this all night because of Reggie, he's needed to come more than he's ever needed anything else in his entire god damn life. He's building to the end here and he doesn't think he'd be able to stop it even if he wanted to, so he lets go of whatever restraints he has left. He's ruthless and brutal, slapping hard against Reggie's ass every time he bottoms out, tearing through him like he's just a warm hole. If he were older-- if he were older, maybe he'd be able to keep Reggie pinned here all night, both of them covered in sweat and well-used by morning, but-- ]
F-- Fuck, fuck. I'm gonna come. [ He can barely talk through all the sounds tearing out his throat, the shaky panting and the heavy groans. He doesn't know what he's saying when his fingernails tighten in Reggie's thigh almost tight enough to bruise or draw blood. Doesn't hear the neediness in his voice, the begging. ]
Tell-- tell me you want it. Tell me you want me.
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