Small talk con't (NSFW, closed to Derek)

[not_johnconnor]

(continued from here)

By this time, John had his shirt off, and his boots and socks, too. He was pulling at his belt and pulling down his fly, too, and shoving his jeans off. When Derek entered, closing the door, John stopped, looking up, eyes darker, softer.

Comments

[soldier_reese]

"Impatient, huh?" Derek smirked as he stopped in the middle of the room and quirked a finger at John. "C'mere." He took his hand and guided them to the hem of his shirt. "Take 'em off."

[not_johnconnor]

His belt tossed aside, John walked over, slowly and took the hem of Derek's shirt in his hand and pulled. Up, up, baring inked and scarred skin, hiding his face for a moment before it reappeared as he tossed the shirt to the floor. Then his eyebrows went up. More orders? He'd follow these.

[soldier_reese]

They weren't really orders although it does seem to come out that way. Derek didn't know any better and besides, he was hard and aching already. "Next," he caught John's cheek and pulled him close, kissing him, soft but deep.

[not_johnconnor]

One arm hooked around Derek's neck, the other hooked fingers into Derek's waistband. It was easy from there to undo the button and start on the fly. The zipper sounded loud, almost as loud as the moan that was swallowed in Derek's kiss.