triskehale | (no subject)

There's been an itch just under Derek's skin all day, but he's been too busy to really place it. The restaurant is opening soon, incredibly soon, and he chalks it up to nerves. It's late by the time he leaves the restaurant and he lopes through the woods, eager to be home. There's a quiet, welcome cabin waiting for him. Not to mention the man inside of it.

When Derek walks through the door, he's greeted by a very welcoming sight indeed. Barry is lounging on the soft rug in front of fire in nothing but his underwear. He's on his stomach, arms crossed over a book that he's dozing on. His skin is practically golden in the flickering light, and Derek's blood burns under his skin.

Maybe this is what he had been itching for all day.

Derek toes out of his boots and hangs up his leather jacket before padding quietly across the floor, careful not to wake Barry up as he sinks to his knees at his side. A hand curls around the back of Barry's thigh and Derek leans over to press a soft, open mouthed kiss between his shoulder blades. Barry's skin is warm from the fire and Derek grins, dragging wet kisses up to the back of Barry's neck.

"Sleepy hummingbird," Derek breathes out, somewhere between a whisper and a growl.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Barry pushes Derek's hand down over the already healing wound on his throat, biting those claws in to stop the flesh from knitting. The sting of torn flesh seems to sink into his blood, pooling low and adding to the heat roiling within him.

"Faster," he says, even as he's not sure he can take it, his back beginning to arch against a growing wave that's building, surging, seeking an outlet. Barry whines, but Derek's sure grip on him doesn't relent, and when the wave crashes down all Barry can do is go with it. He pulls Derek's hand off of him and replaces it with his own, directing each jerk of his cock so that come paints Derek's belly, his chest, his throat. He doesn't have much left, body trembling, but Barry gets his thumb on Derek's chin and says, "Open," directing the last into his mouth.

It's like the wolf is in both of them, shared between them as Derek's claws sink into Barry's skin. They're both wild, and Derek lets out a deep growl as he coaxes Barry's orgasm from him with tight, quick pulls. The first splash of come makes Derek whine, inhaling deeply and watching with red, red eyes.

Another pulse marks his throat and he tips his head back in obvious submission, only ever to Barry, and him alone. He would be eager to comply to Barry's final request even without the command in his voice, and Derek drops his mouth open and leans in to press his tongue against the head of Barry's cock to feel the last of it pulse out of him.

He curls his tongue around that slick pink head, looking up at him as he gives it a few gentle sucks to work him through his orgasm. It's not until Barry is obviously oversensitive that he pulls away, falling back to the rug and spreading his arms out with a wide, satisfied grin.

However he'll feel in a few minutes time when his brief recovery window has opened and closed, just now Barry follows Derek onto the rug, a sated and boneless pile of limbs. He manages not to land with any of his pointiest angles on Derek's ribs or face, but that's all he manages, and for a while Barry only lies there and breathes.

After a long moment, he grins and lifts his head. "Welcome home, by the way."

Derek uses the last of his energy to sling his arm around Barry's waist, reveling in the afterglow as Barry settles on top of him. He's perfectly sated, completely content, and his eyes slip shut as he breathes in time with Barry.

"Hell of a welcome," he laughs out, opening his eyes and lifting his head to brush their noses together. "That's what you get for falling asleep like that."