"You better not be complaining," Derek replies, dragging his lips along Barry's jaw and throat in a line of kisses. His beard makes Barry's skin flush red, and he gasps when Barry's hips slide forward to press perfectly against Derek's own. With Barry, it's never just sex. It always feels more meaningful, like it's just another way of communicating. "We're just really, really good at it."

Once his hand is under Barry's shirt, Derek's fingers trail up to circle a nipple. He traces it with his thumb, flicking his nail across it once it stiffens. Derek surges up onto his knees and catches Barry as he rocks backwards, laying him down gently into the cushions and pushing his shirt up to lean down and press a kiss to his flat stomach.

"You know what I've been thinking about all day?" Derek asks, breathing hotly against the groove of Barry's hip before taking the drawstring of Barry's sweats between his teeth and tugging the knot free. "About just how badly I wanted to get my mouth on you."