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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！ ❞ ( ♪ )
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And then Derek stops. All things, especially all good things, must come to an end, but Reggie can't help but squirm slightly in frustration anyway even though his entire body is already radiating soreness. His throat is hoarse from shouting so he just eases into breathing hard again, trying to catch his breath, trying not to move too much, because he's almost afraid to look at how much come is on him right now. Reggie groans, letting his arms wrap limply around Derek's back. ]
What the hell, dude. You can seriously last.
[ It's kind of a compliment, more of an observation, but Reggie's impressed nonetheless, like he would be if he just heard about it during locker room talk. Mostly, he hates how comfortable this is right now. Not physically, of course, not after that marathon, but being with Derek. I'll take care of you. I wanna make you feel better than you've ever felt, he'd said. Who the hell even says shit like that? No one has ever said that to Reggie and actually meant it, that's for damn sure. Fuck.
Reggie swallows, wets his lips, tries to make up for how throat and raw his throat is by clearing it again. He's having weird feelings now, it's hard not to after all that, and he really doesn't want to be. ]
You liked that, huh? Good. Told you I was the best. [ As if Reggie was really doing any of the work there toward the end. Or the middle. He hesitates a second, then goes on: ] I don't know what the fuck you did to me. I mean, I don't usually-- not like that.
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I... yeah. Yeah, I liked that. I like you. You're really-- really, really fucking great. And I don't-- either? Like this. Usually. I don't either. But. You got in my head, too. So.
[ With a twist of his hips Derek pulls out, his cock giving one last throb as it softens to a lazy semi. The world feels tilted and he's got this dopey smirk on his face that makes it just as obvious he got laid as the dick that's swinging between his legs, but when he drags himself away from the car and gets a good look at Reggie, reclining a little with Derek's load dripping down his thighs, his senses sharpen up. Jesus. Jesus, look at that guy. Look at what Derek did to him. ]
I can-- I can go again. If you give me a minute. If you want to. [ He probably can't, not after coming like he did, but there's a neediness in his voice and an inhuman amount of stamina he should probably start honing. He's also still filled with an eagerness to please and an eagerness to be the best Reggie's ever had, feelings that are still going strong, even in the afterglow. ]
Or-- or we could hang out again? Another night? We could hang out again. [ He wets his lips, and he knows he's coming on a bit strong, but-- he hates endings. He hates when things end. If he can get Reggie to act on those weird feelings, well. Things won't end, right? Whatever that might mean. ] Or we could just - make out? In the back seat? If you want to keep tonight going? Without... or... I mean... I could blow you again, or... jerk you off.
[ Quietly: ] Basketball?
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Mostly he just hears the praise. The offer to go again, which Reggie is both tempted by and can also feel his whole body screaming at the mere thought. He manages to sit up, pulling up his underwear and drawing one knee close to his chest so he can rest his arm on it. Biting his lip, still tempted.
... No, that'd be insane. ]
I don't think I can drive. [ He's vaguely mortified, admitting that. ] At least not for a while, but we can still chill in the backseat. Do whatever, see what happens. I've camped out in her before when I didn't feel like driving, it's not that big a deal. I mean, unless you wanna to drive us somewhere.
[ He's open to being blown again, jerked off, or just making out a while-- open to anything, honestly, just maybe not right away. Fuck. He feels like some of his bones are broken, now.
Reggie rubs his eyes, rubs his forehead, then palms some sweat from it. ]
That was like seriously crazy, though. I can still feel it. [ Without looking, he moves his hand up his thigh to explore what kind of a mess Derek left there. A soft exhale escapes him. ] Jesus. I even have condoms in the car, but I didn't...
[ ... Didn't want to use them, and he isn't sure why, except for that with one he'd have otherwise been a lot cleaner right now. He chew on his lip a bit more, not making eye contact. Reggie doesn't like feeling embarrassed, he actually hates the feeling, but sometimes it's a difficult one to escape from. ]
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His shirt's kind of dusty but after tucking his cock away in his boxers and pulling up his jeans he picks it up from the ground, shaking it clean. He's halfway through tugging it over his stomach when he sees Reggie tentatively graze his finger over his thigh and touch what's there, and for the second time tonight, Derek feels like his heart is lodged in his throat. There's-- something hot, about seeing this. This confident, cocky piece of shit so blown away by what they just did that there's almost a sense of wonder in his voice as he feels the load between his legs. All because of Derek.
Derek's mouth goes dry and he tries to go back to acting cool and uninterested, shrugging with one shoulder and pulling his shirt down even as his pulse quickens and he starts feeling like he could get hard again. "But I didn't", Reggie says, trailing off and catching Derek's attention. ]
Yeah, well. You're welcome. Maybe you just really, really like me. Maybe you just really, really wanted to get fucked by someone who wants to treat you right. Can't blame you for getting lost in the moment.
[ He'll say it's just his raw animal magnetism if he's asked, but sex with Derek is always like this - raw and primal, clumsy but intimate, especially with someone he's kind of into. If he didn't feel like he was running on empty, he'd find something here to use as a weapon against Reggie to assert his dominance. He'd tease him for being embarrassed, maybe, or pin him to the hood and make him hold eye contact so that they could kiss and Derek could talk himself up, saying he's the best and that Reggie's the good boy who serves him from second place.
Could call him cute. Right now, he feels like Reggie's cute as fuck, but he also thinks Reggie's the kind of guy who would take that as an insult. Derek would, after all. As it is, he just reaches a hand out to help Reggie up, eyebrows raised. ]
Here, c'mon. Backseat. [ He snaps his fingers, pointedly impatient. If he doesn't get Reggie's tongue down his throat soon, he's gonna kill a man. ] Hurry up, dude.
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[ Reggie says it with a laugh, though, cleaning off the tip of his fingers in his mouth quickly before he decides whether or not to accept the help and take Derek's hand. Someone who wants to treat you right-- where does he get this stuff? It's hilarious in a dopey, cute kind of way. Unfortunately the exact kind of thing Reggie so often finds himself endeared by.
He feels good right now. Weird, but good. For all the shit he's given Tate before about being into BDSM (or whatever it was), he has to admit to himself now that the faint sting of pain afterward is strangely invigorating, like running or working out until you collapse. For as much as he's never considered that or any kind of rough fucking beyond some bites and scratches as being "for him", he almost feels high off the afterglow.
Whether or not he'd ever want it that rough from anyone but Derek, though, he has no fucking idea. All he knows is that it couldn't be the same. ]
Yep. Coming.
[ He gets off the car when Derek snaps his fingers, having to still brace himself somewhat so that his legs don't give out from under him, first against the car, then finally accepting Derek's hand. With his other hand (and only minor difficulty) he grabs his jeans and his shoes, wincing a little extra over wearing just socks in an unknown and unaccounted for area of dirt and grass, but then sighing as the car door gets pulled open. ]
God, my car is going to need so much work after this.
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[ This feels like the perfect time to give Reggie shit, but he's clearly just joking around here, and Derek's more focused on holding Reggie steady as he finds a weak-kneed balance than he is in actually being mean. He guides Reg to the door and gets it open, mumbling a distracted yeah, well, so does your ass when Reggie talks about his car needing work - and then just sort of blue screens for a sec, not sure why he said that. What it even means. Hopefully, being dopey is still cute and endearing when Derek just sort of says shit without thinking it through.
He makes sure Reggie's inside and comfortable, like he's chaperoning him home from a date or something, then drums his fingers on the roof and heads to the other side of the car, crawling into the backseat. He slams it shut a little too hard and kicks off his shoes and socks, losing them under the passenger's seat and settling in.
It's so much quieter in here than it is outside. Everything's sealed in and it's just the two of them, Reggie lit by the streetlights, limp and happy. He looks so much different now than he did before Derek got lost in his eyes while they fucked. He looks-- really, really attractive, and Derek's not going to say that, but for all his talk about being the best it suddenly strikes him that Reggie's hot enough to pull anyone he wants. With that in mind, it's... kind of exciting that he actually let Derek get this far with him. Just another reason to keep this going. ]
So... [ He does the move, stretching his arm out over the backrest behind Reggie and even pretending to yawn. Nearly asks if he can see him again tomorrow, but thinks better of it and bites it down. ]
I tried to say it before, but I didn't really get it out. I... want you. More of you. [ He swallows. Oh, man. He was trying to make a powerplay here, but it's harder to do than he expected, and he's wincing as he forces himself to keep talking. ]
Please.
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[ And even joking about romance right now sort of makes Reggie's teeth itch. It's not that he can't be into that kind thing -- like it, even -- but it's also a whole thing. That fear of doing the wrong thing, catching feeling for someone and then losing them later. Getting dumped, or rejected right out of the gate, because he doesn't know what the fuck he's doing. Being sensitive to other people's feelings is not exactly what Reggie is know for.
He exhales slowly, about to leave Derek's arm alone, but then Reggie pulls it around his shoulders. He doesn't know what he wants. He just wants to have a good night. Not have to worry about why it is that guys keep wanting to get closer to him after a fuck, or even just a kiss, and why girls are fine having fun with him but only if he's not their boyfriend. Isn't that supposed to work the other way around? He's good for this, but anything else, his track record doesn't look too great. Usually he doesn't let it bother him.
This, especially, he doesn't know what this is. He obviously has stronger feelings for Derek than he thought if he was willing to be okay with all they just did, but he doesn't know what those feelings are. They make him uneasy, because of the Derek he's more used to knowing, and because he doesn't want this one to go.]
Do we have to talk about all that now? You're already basically sleeping over.
[ He leans more into Derek, cupping his face with a hand to pull him close for a kiss. Making out is always a good distraction-- always. ]
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[ Derek's always been a romantic, blind to the faults in people he cares about and clingy in a way he'll grow out of by the time he's eighteen. Dreams of getting swept up in some stupid, passionate, whirlwind romance are always somewhere in the back of his mind, and for all his bullshit ego problems and his constant strive to be admired and worshipped and wanted, he's also young enough to confuse lust with like. He's never really felt this level of intense, casual attraction so quickly with someone before, so maybe that's why he's fucking up. Maybe that's why he wants Reggie to fuck up, too.
But in the end, this is just release for him. A way to get out of his own head. He likes Reggie - he's naturally inclined to push things to see what kind of reaction he gets, sure, but that's because he's a cocky asshole as much as it is because he's bad at being single. When he feels like Reggie's freezing up and shutting down before Derek's even casually asked if he'd like to see a movie some time, he's scared of losing what he's started and puts all this to bed for good, sealing away the part of him that flirted however lazily with the idea of making this more than a friendship to be won over. Making out takes priority.
He wants to say something and explain away what he's thinking - "it's just exciting, meeting someone rad", or something - but instead, he slides closer to Reggie and leans into the kiss, resting his hand on the back of Reggie's neck and stroking his thumb in smooth lines over his skin. He's pushy, still trying to take the lead, darting his tongue between Reggie's lips first and pushing on his chest to ease him back. Trying to get him to lay down.
Derek breaks away after a few minutes and tugs on the waistband of Reggie's underwear, frowning. Why did he even let him put these back on? They might both be too tired to fuck each other's brains out again, sure, but Derek straight up loves Reggie's dick, and he kinda wants to see if he'll be able to coax him back into being fully hard. He's still frowning when he meets Reggie's eyes, tugging more insistently. ]
You're so fucking hot. You-- you were so fucking hot, when I was done with you. Leaning back on your car and breathing hard and just-- [ A pause as he swallows, his eyes raking over Reggie's body. ] Just-- strip, Mantle. I never should've let you get dressed again.
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He doesn't really mind this feeling of being claimed, chosen as a prize, but while he is comfortable enough respecting someone else as "alpha" sometimes, if they've proven themselves, Reggie Mantle is still nobody's bitch. And Derek's clingy, enough that he maybe would overthink some kind of animal brain mating rituals, enough that maybe he's overthinking something beyond them being just bros who have blown their loads in each other and may well do so again, but...
Reggie doesn't know what it is. The lust is still heavy between them and something Reggie is no real stranger to, but there's something different about it with Derek. Primal and unignorable. He kisses Derek back roughly, greedily, moaning against his mouth and letting himself be moved down against the seat. He doesn't care what Derek's plan is right now because Reggie's already quietly decided he's fine with it. He wants whatever it is Derek is hungering to still do with him. ]
You don't let me do anything, D. You just get lucky.
[ He meets Derek's gaze, eyes semi-lidded and beginning to cloud over again from arousal, and slips his briefs down again, this time all the way off. His dick twitches with interest, thighs twitching too as the movement spreads the wetness between them. ]
But keep talking to me like that and I'll let you do whatever you want. Fuck, you're-- you're so... [ He's beginning to breathe hard again, and kisses Derek more slowly, murmuring against his mouth. ] Impressive.
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But he loves this. The compliments that stroke his ego, the challenging battle of tug of war he's playing with Reggie's pride. Whatever they are, Derek still wants to do this again, steadily growing harder at the thought that he could maybe, hopefully, talk his way into regularly keeping Reggie in his bed, writhing beneath him and screaming his name. He's harder still at the thought that Derek himself might end up losing whatever game it is they're playing and find himself battered and used beneath Reggie instead, forced to admit that Reggie's the best, Reggie's the man, Reggie's the one who's impressive. There's so much excitement, for Derek, in being with someone new and not yet knowing who they are. Who they might be.
Reggie's underwear is off and Derek loves that, too. He's leaning back and clumsily stripping himself naked, muttering fuck and hold on-- shit when his ankle gets caught in the cotton, but soon he's bare and confident, flexing his abs to make them look even bigger than they are. Again, he's not sure he'll be able to get off again, but he's too thrilled by the concept of just touching and being touched not to try.
He throws his shirt over his head and it lands on the rearview mirror, hanging off the edge. If he'd noticed, he'd start bragging about what a good shot he is, maybe bring up that time he scored a three-pointer and owned the shit out of Devenford Prep because of it, but. He doesn't - what he notices is the load between Reggie's thighs, still warm and messy and there because of him. He swallows hard and drops down, pressing his lips to a patch of skin just above Reggie's knee, slowly kissing down towards his waist. ]
What I want - [ He tastes himself on Reggie's skin, cleaning his thigh in long licks and easy kisses. ] - is to make you feel good.
[ He moves to Reggie's other thigh when he's done, doing the same and kissing up higher until he's dragging his tongue along the underside of Reggie's dick, lapping over his head and giving one hard suck before letting go. He moves higher up Reggie's body, kissing his hipbone and his abs, a trail of soft, wet marks that climb all the way to his throat, and then he drops to his side and lays beside him, crammed tight onto the leather seat. ]
I want you to like me. [ He rests his hand on Reggie's neck, stroking his jaw with his thumb. ] That's what I want. You're hot and you're hung and I bet you'd be fun as fuck to hang out with, even when I'm not, like, riding your cock. Or fucking your mouth. Or fucking your ass. Or getting my ass fucked. I guess those are things I want, too? But.
[ But. ] Mostly the bro thing. I wanna be your bro. That's not too big of an ask, right?
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And Derek's mouth. Damn, he loves Derek's mouth already, the things it does and the things it says. Reggie scoots back a little on the seat to make more room for Derek to move that mouth around on him, moaning quietly at first and then, as usual, very loudly. His cock twitches again, coming back to life. What Derek says next doesn't even ruin that, somehow, it's--
Reggie bites the corner of his lip. ]
I do like you. So yeah, we can be bros, all right? If... [ He pauses, debating only briefly before committing: ] You have to finish sucking my dick first. And by finish, I don't mean I want to come in your mouth again, I want... before, I didn't--
[ He's not sure if Derek feels like he could get hard again yet, but Reggie still can't stop thinking about it anyway. How much he wanted to get off when Derek was still fucking him.
Rather than finish that sentence, he reaches to rub at Derek's cock to see if that conveys his message clearly enough. ]
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And then Reggie says they can be bros, and he just - lights up? Bright and giddy and cheerful and happy. The face of a teenage boy who just desperately wants to fit in with the coolest kid he's met and feels like he's actually doing it, rather than the face of a monster still learning how to wear its human skin.
He's still smiling when Reggie touches him, but he leans back and cushions his head on his forearm, looking into Reggie's eyes and biting back a moan of his own. He gets what Reggie's asking for and he's sure as fuck not going to turn him down, but there's-- an opportunity here, and he's lighting up again, surprised by how easily it fell into his lap. He can tease Reggie, here. Make him beg. ]
Tell me what you want. Ask me for it.
[ Derek bites his bottom lip, actually excited, and he tries not to sound too sing-song when he quotes something Reggie said back at him. ]
You have to say "please" first.
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Especially because, as Reggie is now reminded, the ways that he can be like Reggie are not always ways Reggie loves being on the other side of. He doesn't smile back, leveling something more in the family of a glare at Derek, but on the other hand, he thinks maybe he's got this. Telling people what to do is a talent of his. ]
First you're gonna suck me hard, and then stop when I tell you to stop. Then, you're going to-- [ He pauses briefly, deliberating on the best words to use with a werewolf. ] Maul me again. Until I come, this time.
[ It almost definitely won't be as long or intense, he already pretty much knows to expect that, which is fine. He's definitely not up for a full second round, a rough, fast quickie is good enough.
Notably he doesn't say please, since he was telling, not asking. He's assuming he can get away with it. ]
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Well - almost has all the right cards. Reggie says maul and it's clear that it gets to him, Derek's lips parting as he stares and goes a little glossy, mystified behind a quick flash of hunger in his eyes. Fuck. He snaps himself out of it, not entirely willing to let this guy realize how easily he can be coerced by a few dirty words that play to his baser instincts. Scrambles to find control. ]
Nah.
[ He breathes out, composes himself, then grins, toothy and sharp, canines on display. There's another quick pump of his eyebrows and then he's leaning further into Reggie, tangling their legs together and reaching down to grip Reggie's dick, not squeezing hard enough to feel all that great but not holding him lightly enough to be ignored. Derek starts to stroke, tilting his head, leaning into the leather of the seat that sticks to his skin when he moves. ]
I mean, I'm pretty sure I told you to say please? Definitely remember asking. [ Ah, there it is - his smirk was already pretty wolfish, but now it's grossly, obnoxiously self-assured, like he just knows Reggie's gonna cave. ] Maybe you didn't hear me? If you don't want it bad enough to ask, that's totally cool, dude. You can drop me home any time you want.
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Reggie makes a noise, a hiss, and rolls his hips slightly against Derek's hand needily. Greedily. He still wants to draw it out, not cave immediately, and he knows he probably could-- he's not driving any time soon, and he doubts Derek would rather walk home than leave the two of them unfinished, but he's not so sure he can wait. ]
Nnnnh-- no, I do, don't be like that. Please, okay? You can't just leave me like this.
[ Shifting still hurts a little, but again, it's kind of a good pain, like the pain the day after an intense workout that leaves his muscles sore and body utterly wrecked. He makes a bit of a face as he tries to accommodate by parting his legs a bit more, the seats sticking to him as he moves as well and making his shirt ride up a bit. ]
Do your job.
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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.
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Nonetheless, might as well savor it. He's impatient, but doesn't mind that Derek is taking it slow; it's good, it draws it out, because he's not ready to come yet. Reggie sits up a bit more so that his back is pressed against the window, making more room for Derek and allowing Reggie better reach for his hands to dig their way back into Derek's hair. Each groan triggers a pull, and each loud groan triggers a hard one; Reggie tries to keep his volume down, but he's not good at it.
He pants: ]
Like-- l-like that. [ Which isn't a question, isn't asking about his hair-pulling, but is rather encouragement. ] Fuck, fuck, that's so good. I'm--
[ He heaves another breath, easing his hips into Derek's rhythm and letting his legs fall further apart again. His fingers grip Derek's hair tightly. ]
Keep it up. Make it good.
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He finds a rhythm with his strokes and shuts his eyes, every twist of his hair and subsequent tug of his neck only making it better. His lips seal around Reggie's dick before too long, and he swirls his tongue over the tip as he hollows his cheeks with that first heavy suck - the harder Reggie pulls his hair the better it feels, but Derek can't tell if he likes the sharp pulls of pain that make his eyes water or if he just likes being told what to do by someone he's slowly considering an equal.
It's only been a few minutes but giving up early is a bad habit of his. Rather than savor the moment and take this as slowly as he should, Derek lowers his head deeper and deeper until he feels Reggie pressing against the back of his throat, and he reaches down between his own legs to start jerking off. He's not embarrassed about getting off like this the way he might have been when Reggie was driving, stroking faster and faster and only faltering when Reggie moans hard enough to have Derek needily fuck into his fist or desperately make a sound that's almost like a whimper because of how much he loved hearing him. His knees ache and he feels his leg starting to slip off the edge of the seat, but he doesn't care enough to stop. ]
God, you're so-- [ he hesitates, because he knows he's getting lost in the moment, being too casual with his flattery and his compliments and just handing this shit out before Reggie's done anything to earn it, but-- ]
You're so fucking hot, dude. I feel like I'm blowing a porn star, or something.
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While he'd probably never actually do it, Reggie's always thought he would be good at porn. It's hard not to fantasize occasionally about a job where you get paid to fuck people on camera, even if the reality of it might be too much for him. Reality doesn't matter in fantasies. ]
Ugh... God, yeah... bet you'd like getting paid to blow me.
[ He's properly hard by now, dick twitching in Derek's warm mouth and trying to push itself in deeper whenever Derek happens to pull back; Reggie hooks his knees over Derek's shoulders, using his hair to both pull him closer and hold him down in alternation. If they continue like this Reggie knows he'll get carried away and finish like before, in Derek's mouth or on his face, which is hot, but not--
Reggie yanks Derek's hair again. ]
Wolfboy, don't forget. Don't get me off yet, you need to-- [ Yank. ] Get up here and fuck me.
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'Course I would. Fuck, I'd have paid to suck your cock, if you'd made me. I dunno if I'll ever be with a guy as hot as you again.
[ He's laying it on a little thick, being more generous than he might need to be and saying things he doesn't completely mean, but he does love Reggie's dick and Derek's pretttttty sure that if someone talked to him like this, he'd give them literally anything they wanted. But Reggie brings up being fucked and Derek smiles, even as he sticks his tongue out and lazily slaps the head of Reggie's dick against it, keeping him wet. ]
Okay. Now? You're in charge, tough guy.
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Reggie feels drunk on it. He's close enough to coming already from Derek's mouth work alone, both his words and his aggressive, warm tongue. His tight lips. Sharp teeth that Reggie might not have felt but certainly couldn't get off his mind, either. ]
Yeah, now.
[ Impatient, but hopefully not needy. He doesn't let go of Derek's hair, yanking him into a rough and desperate kiss once he's close enough. He enjoys the taste of himself, in that kiss-- wonders how narcissistic that would sound if he were to say so aloud. ]
You won't. [ A breath, and then another kiss. Tugging at Derek's lips with his teeth. ] Unless we do this again.
[ Derek's right, though; talking to Reggie like this does make him almost ready to do literally anything Derek might want. As it is, there's already dozens of utterly unrealistic thoughts and impulses running through his head that he knows would be ridiculous to say outloud, but he certainly feels them right now nonetheless. Stupid, irrational sex-haze thoughts. ]
So in case we don't, better make it count now, all right?
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They break away and Derek needs a second to remember how to talk. ]
We will. I mean - I might give you a few days break. Give you some time to remember how to walk again, after I completely fucking wreck this ass. After that, though?
[ After that, he'll turn into a grizzled old piece of shit who jerks off to Reggie three or four times a night and stares bitterly at the ceiling in the afterglow as he suffocates under a blanket of guilt and regret, but. That's not what Derek's smile is saying in the present.
He jerks Reggie's waist towards him, pulling him a little further down the seat, then leans in to kiss his neck, mauling his throat until the bright red hickey starts to change into something darker, the start of a mottled purple bruise that'll come out in a few hours. He slips his hand over Reggie's cock and strokes him in backwards tugs, sighing against his throat. ]
C'mon, roll over. Chest down, ass up.
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Which is good. It is... but, if there were ever a time Reggie would agree to be turned without so much as a second thought, now would be it. He kisses and bites back greedily, licks his lips again, relishing the soreness that lingers even after the kiss has broken. ]
A-after that I can return the favor.
[ Maybe not as well; Reggie isn't a werewolf, he doesn't have the same kind of strength that helps elevates Derek's stamina and fucking to this unbelievable, wild urgency that's hard not be obsessed with, but he's still good-- still got the body, got the experience, and the versatile enthusiasm to back that up with. ]
I mean since you're a werewolf it like, makes sense for you to be my bitch.
[ Panting, he tries to keep his voice as even as possible to reaffirm some illusion of control. There's not much more than that he can do, or in fact does do; he lets his head fall back against the seat as Derek pulls his hips down, eagerly exposes his neck for the barrage of bruising hickeys that follows, groaning -- an impatient, whining sort of noise -- and then biting his lip. ]
Ffffuck-- [ It shouldn't make a big difference, the change in position. Right? His face colors a bit nonetheless. ] Should've figured you'd be into doggy style.
[ Breath heaving in and out and heart beating quickly, he turns himself over, burying his face in the palm of one hand as he hesitantly arches his back to lift his ass up. ]
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But he's not gonna be that submissive tonight. There's a stammer in Reggie's voice and it makes Derek laugh, openly and with just trace amounts of mean. At the end of the day, he's all about claiming, an urge that'll grow in him even more once he's got a few years on him - and seeing the colour in Reggie's face, knowing that he was the one who turned it such a pretty shade of pink? That eclipses everything. ]
Careful. You don't wanna make me angry, do you? I can get pretty rough.
[ Reggie slips into place and the way he hides his face makes Derek smirk like he's won the fucking lottery, sharp teeth digging into his bottom lip. Try as he might to pretend they weren't funny, the dog jokes are kind of good, but he's not going to actually say that. He leans back and slowly jerks Reggie off, dragging his finger to his hole with his other hand and gently inserting the tip.
He can still feel the last of his earlier load in Reggie, slick and warm, and a second finger slides in easily enough, Reggie already stretched out for him. Derek sits up on his knees and lets go of Reggie's cock, slapping his ass just hard enough to leave a mark, fingering him a little faster. ]
Might not be a werewolf thing. Maybe I just like how you look like this. Bent over, submissive. Mine.
[ wait, that still sounds like a werewolf thing. ]
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Worst of all, he doesn't mind.
Reggie's fingers, the ones covering his face, begin to pull and dig into his hair, mussing up his bangs. He's still breathing hard, heavy ragged breaths that he tries to hold in by biting his lip harder, but as usual, staying quiet is impossible for Reggie. He wants this, wants it badly, but his reflexive instinct to protect himself from humiliation keeps blaring in his head like a fucking air-raid siren. He feels that sensitivity almost physically throughout his whole body, drawing out a growl or a groan from him with every touch Derek gives him as if Reggie hasn't already given himself away; he hates being obvious, and yet so rarely avoids it. ]
Maybe I do. [ Want to make him angry. ] Rough doesn't bother me.
[ His voice is raspy, but he speaks clearly rather than muttering, refusing to give up even though his hand still won't leave his eyes and forehead. He bites his lip again when Derek starts pressing his fingers into him, trying to breathe more deliberately, more slowly as he lets his legs slide a bit further apart. Moves his hips back and forth against Derek's fingers in frustration. Bent over, submissive. Mine. Reggie wants to argue, and can't.
With a harsher breath, he hazards a red-faced glare over his shoulder, although it's not entirely convincing; his gaze is half-lidded, unable to give into anger over desire and need. ]
And don't fucking laugh at me.
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