It's impossibly difficult, even before Kavinsky breathes out that perfect, needy little you always feel so fucking good that leaves Derek a little breathless,.for Derek to hold back here. He's convinced himself ever since the fucking People Zoo that his physical attraction to kavinsky isn't real, but - christ, look at him.
"Easy. I've got you."
Kavinsky's sitting on his cock like he was fucking made just for this, all tall and slim and perfectly ripped. Derek's keeping his eyes on Kavinsky while he lubes up his cock, but he can't help the way his gaze ends up dropping and he just fucking looks. Kavinsky's all hard angles and lean lines, and when Derek sets his hand on his hip to keep him steady, firm and warm and reassuring, it takes all his willpower not to force him down against this bed and fuck him within an inch of his life.
"Look at me, Joey."
Derek's grip on Kavinsky's hip gets a little firmer, more secure, and he's staring up at him like despite all the bullshit they've been through, despite all the reasons he has to kill this kid, he wants to make absolute sure that he's taking care of himself here. He smoothes his thumb over the V of Kavinsky's hip, supporting himself on his other elbow, trying not to shiver as he just fucking drops.
Kavinsky takes every inch of him and Derek's eyes nearly roll into the back of his fucking head. He digs his palm into Kavinsky's thigh and just braces him there, completely flush, holding him steady. He's so fucking tight. Derek tries to speak a few times, but his voice keeps dying every time. Takes a few false starts to get there.
"... We're gonna go slow, here. Just for a minute. Just so you can really feel this. Every inch."
There's nothing about Derek he can forget, no part of this that he can just put out of his head. Since that first time, he can't get this man out of his damn head. The feel of his hands on his body, his dark, sharp eyes that sometimes glow red. The cocky smirk that flashes to life and, more often, the scowl that seems permanently etched on his face. All of it is burned into his mind, all of it flares to life whenever they do this.
This is different. This is something they're doing wholly sober, because both of them are willing to admit that they want this. Each other. That ramps up the intensity in a way Kavinsky wasn't expecting, but should have. His eyes flash open at the sound of Derek's voice and he manages to meet his gaze, unwavering as he drops into Derek's lap.
Derek's grip is bruising and it keeps him grounded. He's half hard again and he doesn't think it'll take much to get him the rest of the way there at this rate. He watches Derek, deeply satisfied by his inability to speak at first. He wets his lips and shifts his weight, but he doesn't try to lift up or anything.
Slow? Jesus. Kavinsky manages to nod his head and he gives another slow rock of his hips, just to feel the way Derek's filling him.
"How slow are we talking here?" he manages after a moment. Like an experiment, Kavinsky lifts his hips slowly until he's halfway up Derek's cock before he sinks back down again, thighs trembling as he tries to keep it just as slow.
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"Easy. I've got you."
Kavinsky's sitting on his cock like he was fucking made just for this, all tall and slim and perfectly ripped. Derek's keeping his eyes on Kavinsky while he lubes up his cock, but he can't help the way his gaze ends up dropping and he just fucking looks. Kavinsky's all hard angles and lean lines, and when Derek sets his hand on his hip to keep him steady, firm and warm and reassuring, it takes all his willpower not to force him down against this bed and fuck him within an inch of his life.
"Look at me, Joey."
Derek's grip on Kavinsky's hip gets a little firmer, more secure, and he's staring up at him like despite all the bullshit they've been through, despite all the reasons he has to kill this kid, he wants to make absolute sure that he's taking care of himself here. He smoothes his thumb over the V of Kavinsky's hip, supporting himself on his other elbow, trying not to shiver as he just fucking drops.
Kavinsky takes every inch of him and Derek's eyes nearly roll into the back of his fucking head. He digs his palm into Kavinsky's thigh and just braces him there, completely flush, holding him steady. He's so fucking tight. Derek tries to speak a few times, but his voice keeps dying every time. Takes a few false starts to get there.
"... We're gonna go slow, here. Just for a minute. Just so you can really feel this. Every inch."
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This is different. This is something they're doing wholly sober, because both of them are willing to admit that they want this. Each other. That ramps up the intensity in a way Kavinsky wasn't expecting, but should have. His eyes flash open at the sound of Derek's voice and he manages to meet his gaze, unwavering as he drops into Derek's lap.
Derek's grip is bruising and it keeps him grounded. He's half hard again and he doesn't think it'll take much to get him the rest of the way there at this rate. He watches Derek, deeply satisfied by his inability to speak at first. He wets his lips and shifts his weight, but he doesn't try to lift up or anything.
Slow? Jesus. Kavinsky manages to nod his head and he gives another slow rock of his hips, just to feel the way Derek's filling him.
"How slow are we talking here?" he manages after a moment. Like an experiment, Kavinsky lifts his hips slowly until he's halfway up Derek's cock before he sinks back down again, thighs trembling as he tries to keep it just as slow.