Jackson half turns in his desk chair as Derek raps his knuckles along the windowsill.
"I'm kind of busy," he mutters distractedly.
"I kind of don't care," Derek returns, sitting on the edge of the bed. Jackson ignores him, clicking his pencil several times before typing something into his laptop. "Fine," Derek drawls, "what are you working on?"
"I have to research the serenity prayer."
"Sounds boring. I have a better idea."
"That would be?" Jackson returns dryly. Derek stands, leaning over his shoulder.
"Let me fuck you."
"Can't you come back later?" Jackson asks, looking back to the computer screen. Derek growls slightly, annoyed with his refusal.
"Giving you a choice was clearly a mistake." Derek reaches around him and grabs the laptop, tossing it behind him on the bed. When Jackson stands, a mix of shock and rage on his face, Derek turns him back around, bending him over the desk. He groans weakly, hands catching the edge of it and pushing. Derek ignores his struggles. "Do you really not want to?" Derek asks haltingly, hand settling on Jackson's back.
"If I get a B it's your fault," Jackson answers.

Derek smiles. He leans over Jackson, pressing a slow kiss to his neck as he scans the notebook Jackson had been scribbling in.
"'God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change'," he deciphers softly. He leans over Jackson's ear, kneading the muscles in his back. "I kind of like it."
"Oh?" Jackson lets out, breathless.
"It's a good lesson for you at least." Jackson's reply is ground into a long groan as Derek rolls his hips into Jackson's ass. Derek reaches around him, making quick work of his jeans before shoving them down. "Accept what you can't control," Derek repeats, fingers ghosting down Jackson's hips, stripping away his boxer briefs.
"Can't control you," Jackson moans. Derek smiles slowly.
"No," he agrees. He presses a slicked finger against Jackson. Jackson fucks back onto it without being told. Derek curls his finger slightly, inhaling at Jackson's broken little gasp. He's not sure why the sound relieves him. He's not sure that it should. He concentrates on Jackson again, if only to distract himself. Jackson moans again, eyes slipping closed as Derek adds another finger. Derek works on his breathing as blood flows south and for a moment all he can concentrate on is the rise and fall of his own chest, vision going black around the edges. Jackson's still rocking back and forth and Derek needs him so bad it suddenly hurts. He fumbles with his belt buckle, which was so simple this morning, and yanks open his jeans, nearly ripping the black denim. He spits into his palm, a generous amount. It's not difficult to salivate when he's around Jackson. Slowly, even though he needs it, he drops his hand down, hissing as his cock twitches under his touch. Derek strokes himself carefully, fingers loosely moving over the length. He can't help but give an experimental squeeze at the base, gasping as his hips bucked forward on their own. Yeah. He needs it.

Jackson moans again as Derek slips his fingers free. He slides in slowly, gritting his teeth, not wanting to hurt Jackson. He's been trying to wean him off the pain. Jackson still needs it but Derek knows it's all in his head. If he could just get in there… For now he settles with Jackson's body. He settles in Jackson's body. Jackson clenches around him and Derek can't wait any longer. His hips slide back gently before he snaps them forward, taking Jackson by surprise. Jackson's hands slam on the desk and he shoves his body back against Derek desperately.
"Please Derek, I need…" he drifted into a tortured groan.
"I know what you need but you can't have it this time." Jackson gave a pained whimper.
"Please," he breathed, hands scrambling over the desk again. Derek caught his wrists and trapped them at the small of his back. He paused before bending closer.
"No," he whispered into the shell of Jackson's ear. Jackson whined again, wriggling. Derek resumed his thrusts slowly. "Can't control it," Derek said, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust. "You can't control me fucking you. You can't control my cock in your ass. You can't even control whether or not you're going to come. Can you?"
"Unh…n-no," Jackson manages. His eyes squeeze closed as sweat gathers between his shoulder blades, making his t-shirt stick to the skin.
"You don't want control do you?" Derek questions, slowing in a subtle threat.
"No," Jackson responds immediately, nearly pleading again. Derek can't help a slight smile.
"Good boy."

He switches Jackson's wrists to one hand, the other sliding up his back and fisting in his hair. Placing Jackson's head the way he wants it he leans down and presses a hot kiss to his neck, withdrawing his hand before Jackson can get anything out of the grip. His patience is fraying away and Derek considers giving in to what Jackson wants, if only so he can find relief. There's a brief flash of guilt at the thought. Gritting his teeth he slows and changes angles, shifting until Jackson lets lose another broken moan. Jackson's meeting him as best he can, muscles in his back contracting and standing out in sharp relief.
"Derek please…please." Derek can nearly taste the desperation rolling off of Jackson. Saliva pools on his tongue.
"Come for me Jackson. Now."
"I…oh God." Jackson half arches off the desk, groaning as he contracts around Derek. A full grin takes Derek's lips and he lets go of his control, teeth sinking into Jackson's shoulder, tearing through fabric and skin, purely on instinct. He groans through the blood as the tension in him shatters. His teeth retract and he licks his lips, lapping at Jackson's shoulder again.
"Sorry," he breathes, standing slowly.
"God," Jackson pants in response, "don't be." He doesn't move other than letting his arms flop to the desk. "That was fantastic." Derek fixes his clothes before helping Jackson, who's still moving sluggishly. Derek offers a soft smile before kissing his temple quickly.
"Take care of that shoulder," he paces towards the window, "and finish your paper." Jackson smiles and flushes, glancing to his toes.
"Anything else?" Derek pauses at the windowsill and turns back, smile twisting to a smirk.
"Get an A and I'll give you a reward."

A/N: Lemons, as promised.

Thanks for reading.. ^.^