It's almost like a separate hurt from everything else.

Derek feels tense, caged. Trapped. Like the mahogany behemoth of a desk before him is the padlock on his freedom and the clock ticking away to 5:30 holds the key. It's the desire to get out of here and burn away the work week with weights and machines and sweat that churns in his gut, like he's going to burst into flames if he doesn't make his body work. It wouldn't be so soul crushingly bad if there had been more appointments that day to distract him – but people simply don't buy a lot of houses this time of year. Honestly, Derek can't blame them. The middle of April when the weather's gorgeous and the sunshine is out doesn't exactly preclude one to wanting to walk around empty houses.

Derek groans, checking his email for the fifth time in twenty minutes, of course there's nothing there, and he just wants out. He only needs to make it for half an hour more. Then he's free and it's Friday and holy shit, Friday means that it's arm day.

Hell yes.

Friday also means that Scott gets off work early and will actually be there when Derek walks through the door. Well not physically right there but he'll still be in the house.

That's motivation enough, truthfully. Half an hour more behind the desk and then it's fifteen minutes home. Forty five minutes until he gets to bend his husband backwards with a kiss and then they're going to go to the gym and tear the place up.

What a good night.

Derek hears the clack of Cora's heels come into his office, not bothering to look up at her in spite of her perching on the edge of his desk.

"You know, you're free to go home now. There's literally no one else here except us and I don't know about you Derek but... I think we can afford to leave early.

Derek looks up at her and narrows his eyebrows. "This isn't going to come back to haunt us, is it?"

Cora rolls her eyes. "No, you dweeb. The Hale family real estate empire is not going to collapse because we left half an hour early on a slow Friday."

"You're positive."

"I've already made my dinner reservations and my office is locked." Cora checks her lipstick and readjusts her hair.

"Who are you going to dinner with anyway?" Derek sits back in his chair and loosens his tie, regarding his sister with amusement.

"Stiles, again."

Derek's reply is a snort of contempt.

"What?" Cora doesn't look in the least bit entertained.

"He's so aggravating, Cora – why do you keep seeing him?" Sure he's also Scott's best friend but that doesn't mean Derek has to enjoy his company; he's let Scott know that many, many times now.

"He has great hands and lots of energy and we fuck-"

"Don't. Don't finish that sentence or I swear I will find a way to fire you." Derek can already feel his blood pressure rising at the thought of… that. With Cora and Stiles.


Cora slinks back to the floor and places her hands on her hips. "You're the one who always comes in every morning wearing hickeys and a smile like you're some sort of teenager who's just mowed down his first conquest, I don't want to hear a word."

Derek opens his mouth to reply, then shuts it again. So what if he and his husband have a very healthy and active sex life?

Cora smiles, knowing she's won this round. "See you Monday, Derek. Try to enjoy your weekend, okay?"

Derek waits until she's gone to depart himself, just in case someone calls the office in that small window of time. Either Derek's attempts at telepathically willing the phone not to ring work or the world's just feeling benevolent for the moment but it doesn't, and no one pulls up for a last minute appointment. Derek's out the door at 5:15 and in his car thirty seconds later.


He takes the back way home to avoid traffic, smiling with every mostly empty street he turns onto on the way to he and Scott's neighborhood. He's actually feeling triumphant by the time he pulls into the garage of the two story brownstone he and Scott moved into a couple years ago. Scott's car is already there, the engine already cold. Derek leaves his briefcase in the car, opting to just get it whenever he feels like doing so – right now he's got a sexy husband to love on.

Scott's in the kitchen, already in his workout clothes – a black tank top and gray gym shorts – barefoot and with his back turned to Derek. Derek comes in quietly, Scott's head tilted back as he drinks a glass of water. His hair's already up in a man bun, strand escaping from it in the most artfully disheveled way. Derek waits until Scott has set his glass down to slide up behind him and snake his arms around his waist.

"Hey baby," Derek murmurs into the warm skin of Scott's neck, planting kisses with care up the side to the hinge of Scott's jaw, already feeling a smile tugging at the corners of Scott's mouth.

"Didn't hear you come in." Scott reaches back and turns his head, fingers scritching at Derek's own longish hair, kissing the toothy grin parting Derek's lips.

Derek grunts contentedly as Scott's fingers dig into his scalp, pulling himself as flush as he can with Scott's back. "Wasn't like I was trying to be sneaky or anything."

Scott manages to get himself turned around and his arms around Derek's neck, kissing Derek's scruffy cheeks and chin. "I know."

Derek pulls Scott into a long, long kiss, his hands on Scott's back and kneading the long chords of muscle that swell and bulge with every movement of Scott's body. Scott tastes and feels like heaven sent glory, and Derek dwells for a solid five minutes in the art of kissing Scott deep and thorough, feeling Scott trying to spell his name against the roof of his mouth.

It's a great, great feeling.

When Derek pulls away for air, he notices that Scott's lips are shiny with spit now, and reaches up to wipe away the saliva where he's pretty much slobbered all over his hubby.

"Uh, sorry about that." Derek wipes at the corners of Scott's mouth, made more difficult by the dopey grin Scott's sporting.

"No need to apologize, Der. It's our house, we can make out like gross teenagers all we want." Scott moves in for another kiss but Derek stops him right before he gets to his mouth.

"You know what today is, right?"

Scott looks bewildered for the briefest of seconds. "Uh, Friday?"


Scott's face lights up as he remembers. "Arms day."

"Arms day."

Derek gives Scott the kiss he'd asked for.

It's another fifteen minutes before they manage to tear themselves away from each other and head upstairs for Derek to change. Scott makes use of his time waiting for Derek to transform from businessman to gym rat by re-stretching and lacing up his sneakers, Derek in the bathroom so as to not distract Scott – he actually does want to go to the gym and if he gets naked in front of Scott, that won't happen. Nothing against Scott of course, just that Derek's been looking forward to arms day all week.

Derek comes back out in a blue t-shirt with the sides cut out and white shorts, already in his socks. Scott looks up from where he's putting on his gloves and whistles – Derek's put his hair up too, and the shirt is open enough to where he can see Derek's nipples and chest hair if he moves the right way. Scott rubs his bulge in reflex, feeling his cock swell against the inside of his jockstrap.

Derek sits down on the bed next to Scott, pulling his socks the rest of the way up. Scott gets distracted, looking at his husband's chest and arms, wondering how angry Derek would be if they held off until tomorrow to go work out and just stay in to fuck like rabbits.

"The answer is no, Scott." Derek kisses his cheek and stands, starting his stretches right there in front of Scott, a dark, buff, scruff-tinged temptation that Scott would love to put his mouth all over.

Scott groans, noticing that Derek is definitely free balling, watching the thick hang of his cock and balls move underneath the silk of his gym shorts. It's a deliberate taunt, and Derek knows exactly what he's doing to his hubby, cheekiness in his eyes as he warms himself up.

"I swear to God, Derek, if you don't…"

"Don't what, baby?"

Scott steels his voice in the hopes that he sounds intimidating. "Don't hop on my dick when we get back, you're on the couch for a week." He knows the threat is empty but it makes him feel better to say it anyway.

Derek contorts himself back into normal standing position and saunters the few steps over to Scott, looming over him and bending so that Scott has to drop back onto his elbows, Derek's knees spread over his lap. Scott gulps, his lips parted in invitation as Derek closes in, leaving maybe an inch of space between him and Scott's mouths.

"Don't I always, baby?" Derek reaches down between Scott's legs, caressing the inside of his thigh and stopping just short of Scott's groin, almost feeling bad for the way Scott whimpers at the touch.

"Y… yes." Scott wills his voice to not squeak but Derek sometimes makes it really, really difficult to keep it from doing just that.

Derek does grant Scott the small token of kissing his chin before taking Scott's hands in his and pulling Scott upright so that Derek is in his lap. He can feel Scott's hard on digging into the bottom of his thigh, snaking his hips a couple times and letting the pretty music of Scott's groan fill him up.

"Gonna get your dick so fucking wet, Scott, I promise." Derek gives him one more, hot, wet, sloppy kiss before he hops off of Scott's lap like nothing's amiss.

"I hate you," Scott cries, arousal making his brain fuzzy and cursing his husband for making him so fucking easy.

They slip off their wedding rings so that they don't damage them at the gym, making sure everything's secure before they lock up and head out. The gym's not but a ten minute walk from their house and it's such a gorgeous night that they don't mind not driving, Scott shifting his focus away from the fact that he can feel precome on the head of his dick and onto his workout routine, going over with Derek what he's going to try and target tonight.

"Think you're ready for sixty reps on that weigh setting?" Derek keeps slipping his fingers in and out of the waistband of Scott's shorts, seeing how long it takes for Scott to trip up from having Derek's hand on his ass.

Scott regards him with something close to incredulity, like he doesn't think Scott's capable of what he's setting out to execute. "Of course I do. I've been lifting the same amount for weeks now, it's time to bump it up." To reinforce his point, Scott stops and flexes his arms, biceps popping like coiled pythons and Derek nearly trips over himself when he realizes just how fucking big his husband's arms have gotten since the beginning of the year.

Derek stares for a solid thirty seconds before he manages to get the higher speech parts of his brain working again, swallowing three times before he gets out words. "I feel bad for not noticing before now. Goddamn, baby, those are…" Derek puts his hands on Scott's biceps, rubbing them appreciatively and warring internally with the arousal trying to burn a hole through his stomach.

Scott drops his arms and starts to walk again before Derek begins groping him too inappropriately. "Thought you said it was arms day, sweetheart."

Derek trots quickly to catch up with Scott. "That's not fair."

Scott smiles and shrugs, slipping his fingers into Derek's so that they don't travel to unacceptable places for the general public. "Your words, not mine."

Derek huffs the rest of the way to the gym.

It's surprisingly busy for a Friday night, most every treadmill and stair climber occupied. Derek would be mad if it was cardio day but today is all about muscles, and he intends on working them until he can hardly move. They show their passes at the front desk and are waved right on through, the attendant hardly looking up at them. They're in here so often that they could probably walk in without so much as a thought, and they make a line right for the weight room.

There are only a couple guys in there, and they barely take heed of Scott and Derek as they head over to the rack and start selecting weights. Derek wants to do bench presses first before he starts on his arms, just so that he doesn't forget it.

"Benching helps arms too, Scott."

"And you're the one who said it was arms day."

"Well, arms day and everything else, then." Derek smooches him on the cheek and lays down on the bench, Scott placing weight at the ends, eighty pounds each. Derek is capable of more, yes, but right now he just wants to get the blood flowing.

Scott takes his place at the end where Derek's head is, gripping the bar as his husband lifts. Scott does his best to behave, in spite of the fact that Derek's chest is fucking popping today, and the weight he's benching just makes it look bigger. Derek sneaks a quick look around and mouths at Scott's dick through his gym shorts, making Scott hiss in surprise and nearly lose his hold on the weights.

When Scott looks down to see if his husband is sorry for himself it's all Derek can do to restrain his mirth, trying hard to not laugh.

"You can find someone else to spot you, Derek, if you don't cut that shit out. I'd rather not have to take you to the hospital."

Derek shrugs, readjusting his hold on the bar. "Sorry, baby. Just you look so fucking edible right now."

"And while we're in public you probably shouldn't take that literally." Scott's not really mad, just a lot hornier than he had been five minutes ago.

Which, to be fair, was a lot.

Derek finishes his reps without further incident, Scott mostly keeping his thoughts on pg-rated things and not on how easy it would be to just squat over Derek's face and let Derek give his balls a tongue bath. Of course with Derek splayed out before him, legs spread wide and his dick just… there… through his gym shorts it's a Herculean effort to do that.

Scott decides to bench too, Derek taking ten pounds off of each end once Scott's settled in. While Scott gets ready Derek takes a second to ogle his hubby's body – and how much it's changed. When they got married five years ago Scott was a lot leaner, clean shaven every day, and didn't have any chest hair. Now Scott's perpetually scruffy and has gorgeous long hair, a gorgeous dusting of hair on his chest and forearms that act as the perfect accents to his muscles. Scott's nearly doubled in size in the interim, and while he's not quite as buff as Derek is he's still a fucking stud – something Derek likes to remind Scott of quite often.

Scott's waiting patiently, noticing the hungry look in Derek's eyes and smirking. He reaches back and grabs the back of Derek's thighs, squeezing them so that Derek comes back from his trip to their bedroom or wherever it is he's wondered off to. Derek nearly jumps in surprise, especially when Scott's hands travel north and give his ass a quick grope.

"Care to spot me now?" Scott removes his hands from Derek's butt and puts them back on the weights, Derek taking another second to reel in his very quickly turning scandalous thoughts.

"You got it, baby." Derek steps another inch closer so that Scott's vision is mostly filled with his bulge, ignoring him deliberately as he starts to lift.

To his credit, Derek doesn't lose his grip in spite of Scott's everything bulging and contracting in this beautifully obscene way. He also notices a couple of more than just "checking out their surroundings" glances being projected in their direction, especially in the area around Scott's crotch. Derek scowls, growling low in his throat and while he's not sure if it's able to be heard he does notice that those who were looking a little too interested return to their own business.

Scott looks back up at Derek, tugging the hem of his shirt to get his attention. "You did it again."

"Did what?" Like Derek doesn't know.

"Growled and looked like you were ready to slash someone's throat for looking at me." Scott gets up and reaches for the cleaning spray, wiping the bench down where it's now damp with sweat.

Derek busies himself with putting the weights back. "Well, they shouldn't look so… interested."

Scott pulls Derek back by his shirt, wrapping his left arm around Derek's body while the other one goes right past the waistband of his shorts and gives his junk a firm squeeze, angling them away from anyone who might be watching. "And that's all they can do, Der, is look." Scott's fingers find the head of Derek's cock, playing over the slit and lo and behold Derek's wet. Scott smears it around, all the while nibbling Derek's earlobe.

"Scott, baby, you gotta stop." Derek's about to pop a boner and there simply won't be any concealing it once they turn back around.

"Then don't worry, okay? There's no need to terrorize the other patrons just because they have wandering eyes." Scott lets Derek go with a kiss, deciding to wipe Derek's precome on his shirt instead of licking it off – he doesn't need to torture him that badly.

Derek calms back down, taking a deep breath and giving Scott a fast kiss. "Fine – but later…"

"Later we can discuss when it actually arrives." Scott pats Derek's butt and moves on to the free weights.

They count each other's bicep curls, keeping a weather eye on each other so they don't go over, doing them together and alternating arms at the same time. Scott makes a conscious effort to keep his attention focused completely on Derek, just so that they don't have a repeat of earlier, touching Derek's arms in between sets of reps appreciatively. Derek, for his part, basks in the attention, smiling the whole time at Scott.

Once they switch over to triceps, Derek sidles up behind Scott and places his hands on Scott's wrists.

"I've noticed that you put a lot of extra effort into doing these – can I show you an easier way to do it?" Derek manages to subtly rub himself against Scott at the same time, just in case his territory hasn't been marked enough.

Scott lets Derek guide his arms up, his husband's body heat making him sweat even more. "Absolutely."

Derek shows Scott what he wants, and Scott definitely notices the difference right away, feeling his triceps actually do the work for him, surprised at just how much of a change there is. Derek guides him through the first ten reps before letting him go, kissing the back of Scott's head before picking up his own waits, pacing himself along with Scott so that they finish together, before the very last set crowding in for a kiss that Scott ranks right below pornographic.

Now there are definitely people watching them.

Scott breaks the kiss and licks Derek's neck, tasting the salt and sweat of his husband's body. It sits on his tongue, vibrant, dark, kind of gross, but he wants more – a lot more.

"Hey Derek?"

"Yeah baby?"

"I think we've hit our arms enough, yeah?"

Derek rakes his eyes over his husband's body, his sweat-soaked skin and clothes, and yeah, Derek wants to hit that in a bad way. "How about a mile around the track first?"

"May have to run backwards, if we do that."

"How come?"

Scott tugs Derek in by the front of his shirt and gives him another kiss. "So I can watch your dick flop around."

"You're a pervert, Scott Hale, you know that?"

"I wasn't until I met you." Scott lets go of him and heads for the indoor track, enticing Derek by twitching his hips as he saunters away.

They end up running an eight minute mile, and alright, this is the one time that Derek regrets going commando at the gym because his cock doesn't stay in place at all, and by the time he's finished it kind of hurts, on top of being half hard. Scott had managed to stay in front of him the whole time, which meant his husband's bubble butt was right there in Derek's vision with every step – that and the jockstrap Scott's wearing kind of makes it perfectly framed, the sweat making his shorts cling and Derek is this close to groping him in public.

Scott doesn't even give him the chance to cool down before he nabs their stuff from their locker and pulls Derek towards the entrance, the second they're outside pushing him up against one of the brick columns outside and kissing him roughly, grinding his hips against Derek's slowly, Derek's wrists pinned above his head.

"Want to go see if arms day paid off, Der?"

"Way ahead of you." Derek breaks Scott's hold on him and pulls him down the steps, Scott giggling as he and Derek head home.

The journey takes a little longer than normal, because halfway there Scott takes his shirt off and he's fucking bulked out, his muscles popped out from the shoulders down and Derek has to stop their progress and lick him, right there on the sidewalk and he knows people are watching them. Derek honestly doesn't give a damn, seeing as how Scott's not protesting and Derek wants him so badly it's actually starting to hurt a little.

The front door is nearly broken down as they burst in, Scott slamming Derek against it once they're inside, his left hand cupping the back of Derek's head as they kiss and his right already tugging the waistband of Derek's shorts down, Derek whimpering a little as Scott gets him all the way out and strokes him from base to tip, pinching Derek's foreskin between his thumb and forefinger and making his precome ooze out in the process.

"Now I can do what I wanted earlier." Scott licks Derek's neck, coated in sweat before he puts his fingers in his mouth, sucking the dewey sweet texture of Derek's precome off, Derek's mouth opening and closing like a fish as he watches. Scott gets this dark look in his eyes too, the same predatory look Derek sometimes flashes; honestly, Scott does it so much better than he does, because those normally warm chocolate brown eyes are full of innocence but right now it looks like Scott's going to eat him.

"Couch," Scott commands softly once he's done licking Derek's pre spunk up. Derek goes without a word, grabbing Scott by the wrist and leading him to their living room. They come down on the couch in a sweaty heap, Scott bracketing Derek against it with his arms as they kiss, Derek's wrists pinned against the back, his gym shorts pulled halfway down his legs.

Scott sits back after a second and strips his clothes off, Derek quickly doing the same so that he doesn't miss a second of Scott completely naked. Derek's mouth waters as Scott tugs his dick from his jockstrap, just as long and thick as he is, long foreskin still pulled up around the head. Scott's barely got his jockstrap from around his ankles before Derek tugs him forward by his hips, mouth open before Scott's even close to him.

Scott makes this gloriously throaty sound as Derek swallows half of his cock in one go, slurping noisily around his girth. Scott gets his fingers in Derek's sweat damp hair, pulling at his bun and threading the dark strands through his fingers.

"Yeah, that's it Derek, get my cock nice and wet." Scott's voice is low and growly, setting Derek's nerves on edge as he screws his eye shut and traces a path with his tongue along the fat vein running up the bottom of Scott's cock all the way down to the base. Derek stops when he physically can't go any further, nose buried in the springy, dark forest of Scott's pubes. He inhales deeply, the scent of Scott's sweat-sweet body permeating his senses, feeling his cock harden further and start to leak. Scott's fingers dig into his scalp, Derek holding him in his mouth for as long as he can before pulling off and wiping the tears away from the corners of his eyes.

Scott leans down for a kiss, taking the panting breaths right from his husband's mouth and not stopping until Derek's breathing normally again.

Derek pushes him back, making Scott straighten up, looking up at him as he takes Scott's cock in hand.

"Wasn't finished yet, baby." Derek flicks his tongue at the tip of Scott's cock, catching the precome with it and making a string leading from Scott's cock to his mouth.

Scott gives a wobbly "okay" because seriously, Derek doing shit like that will very certainly be the death of him.

"Good," Derek says, opening his mouth again and this time, going slow about blowing Scott. He can smell the sweat and exertion on Scott's body even more sharply now, can see the sheen of it as plain as day on his tanned skin, matting his chest hair and the scruff on his cheeks and chin. Derek reaches up with his left hand and drags his nails down his husband's body, slowly, letting the bumps and ridges of Scott's pecs and abs be re-committed to his memory.

"Like that, baby? Like my fucking tits?" Scott puts the most deliciously filthy spin on his words as Derek tugs and pinches his nipples, each tweak sending a jolt of electricity straight to his cock. "God, want to make you come all over them, Derek, fucking love it when I make you spunk on me."

Derek pulls off of Scott's cock, wiping his mouth and taking a deep breath. "Keep talking," Derek rasps, voice all scratchy from having Scott's dick down his throat. He moves to Scott's balls, jamming his nose in the crook of Scott's thigh and sniffing him there too, ripe and damp and perfect.

"Like that too, huh? When I'm all sweaty and gross? Fucking do it for you Derek, just for you. Love the way you grope and touch me." Scott guides Derek back to his cock, sliding it past his soft lips, Derek tracing a "D" on the underside of the head.

"Fuck, Derek, baby, fucking do that again." Scott tosses his head back, moaning loudly as Derek spells both he and Scott's names into his frenulum, Scott's precome a continuous drip onto his tongue. Derek laps every drop up, his husband tasting sweet like the fruit smoothies he drinks every day with breakfast, doing his best to keep eye contact with Scott as he gives him the best fucking head he can manage.

Derek doesn't stop until Scott's knees are trembling, finishing by gently pulling Scott's foreskin between his teeth, sitting back with swollen, spit and precome covered lips. Scott's on him in a second, kissing Derek with such unrestrained abandon that for a moment Derek thinks that Scott may just finish them off by grinding against him.

Until Scott gets that predatory look again, getting off of Derek and saying "hands and knees – it's my turn."

"You got it, baby." Derek turns around, fingers gripping the back of the couch to steady himself, pushing his ass out in invitation.

Scott rubs his dick over the cleft, sweat matted hair laid over to the sides so that he can see Derek's hole perfectly, a dark pink starburst that Scott starts to literally drool over.

Derek reaches back for Scott, bringing him forward so that his mouth is right next to Scott's ear.

"Are you listening, Scott?"

Scott nods.

"Want you to eat my hairy ass until I'm dripping wet, really get that fucking sinful tongue in there until I lose it. Then I want you to open me up and fucking breed me on that fat cock. Can you do that for me baby?" Derek gloats to himself when he hears Scott moan from the filth poured in his ear, releasing Scott so that he can set to his task.

Scott strokes his cock as he gets to his knees, Derek's legs spread so that he doesn't have to hold him apart. Before he starts, Scott asks "Hey, did you…"

"This morning, baby. Knew we were gonna do this later." The words aren't even all the way out of Derek's mouth before Scott's got his face shoved into his ass, inhaling the pungent tang of Derek's body before he dives in.

Scott works fast, licking at Derek's hole like a popsicle, Derek's teeth sunk into his forearm to keep himself from screaming, his moans crescendoing every time his husband's tongue drives him open a little more. Scott's really too fucking good at this, always has been, able to make Derek come just from this if he chooses, eating Derek out like he imagines Scott would a girl, rough and thorough and until Derek's quivering like all it would take is the lightest touch to undo him completely.

It's not until he feels the spit dripping down his balls does Derek realizes Scott's stopped, so lost and drunk on pleasure it hadn't registered with the conscious parts of his brain. Derek hears the sound of lube uncapping, followed by cold slick being applied to his hole.

"Couldn't have warmed it up first?" Derek's wound tight, and when he feels Scott slide two fingers in he nearly disintegrates.

"Don't think you have to worry about it being cold for too long, babe."

Derek just nods in agreement, words robbed from his mouth by Scott's fingers touching his prostate. He feels a drop of come leak from his dick, unable to help himself as Scott finishes opening him up quick and rough.

"C'mon, Scott, fucking get that cock in me." Derek tries to put some urgency to the words but they come out more desperate than anything else.

Scott leans forward, grabbing Derek's hair and pulling his head backwards. "Patience, Derek. I don't want to hurt you, you know that."

So long as Scott pulls his hair again, Derek's willing to wait for as long as Scott wants him to.

Satisfied that Derek's open enough, Scott lubes up his cock and guides himself in, Derek's breath and voice hitching higher and higher with every inch of Scott that's slid into him. Scott tries to keep a firm hold on Derek's hip, fingers dragging across his flesh from how damp Derek is with sweat. He pushes the thickest part of his cock into Derek quickly, making Derek's back arch from the sudden change, a litany of "fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck" coming from Derek's mouth, his eyes screwed shut because no matter how many times Scott tops him Derek's never truly prepared for how fucking big his husband is.

Scott gives Derek two seconds of having him all the way in before he starts to fuck him, both hands on Derek's waist as he draws almost all the way out and then slams back in, so sharp and sudden that Derek actually cries a little.

"Scott, fuck, again baby, please" Derek tries to look back but he has to close his eyes against how it burns as Scott readjusts the angle and he hits Derek right in the prostate with his next thrust, the couch moving an inch across the floor from the force of impact their bodies generate.

"Like this, Derek?" Scott follows with two more of the same kind of movements, jarring the sweat off of Derek's neck from where it's started to drip. "Fuck, baby, look so fucking gorgeous taking my cock like this." Scott takes his right hand off of Derek's hip and grabs Derek's hair, wrenching his head back so that Scott can kiss him.

Scott sets a pace that has Derek trying to keep up, Scott planting one foot on the couch to steady himself, pounding Derek so hard that he can't do anything more than scream into Scott's mouth. Between Scott pulling his hair and fucking him for all he's worth, Derek's pretty sure that he's transcended to a whole new plane of existence because it feels so damned amazing.

"This what you wanted, Derek?" Scott leans down and bites Derek's neck, latching himself on until he's nearly broken the skin. "This is how you like it best, isn't it? Fucking love to be bred by your husband." Scott sinks the words into Derek's flesh, syllables punctuated by teeth marks that will last the whole weekend.

"God, Scott, yes." Derek howls as Scott's hold on his hair tightens, noticing the way Scott gets faster and faster, fucking Derek so that his balls continuously slap against his ass, Scott's whole body shaking as he feels his orgasm start to seize him and drag him upwards. Scott comes with his face buried in Derek's neck, his scent pushing him over the edge, fucking Derek through it and getting come all over the couch as a result.

The second Scott's finished he pulls out of Derek and flips him over, sliding his cock back into Derek's come sloppy hole and starts jerking him off with fast, lube slick, strokes, his cock driving over and over again into Derek's prostate. Derek comes with a silent for a split second scream, the first three arcs of come angled to where they splatter and splash against Derek's chest, the rest emptying out all the way down from Derek's chin down to his navel, collecting and running down his abs and come gutters.

It's a long, long time before Derek stops screaming, Scott still buried to the hilt inside him and keeping them stuck fast together. Once he finally opens his eyes Scott smiles, both of them panting and covered in bodily fluids so sticky that they aren't sure what came from who.

Scott licks some of the come off of Derek's chest and kisses it back to his husband, but now it's tenderly, sweetly, Derek sucking it off of his tongue with a quiet hum of contentment. Scott gets as much as he can off of Derek's body, not stopping until they're both satisfied and Derek's wearing the most beautiful expression of blissful serenity.

"Hey, Derek?"

"Yeah baby?"

"I love arms day."