Jackson jams the keys to his dorm room into the lock several times before he actually manages to get them inside and turn them.
He throws the door open and laughs out an `oops` when the door launches into the wall behind it.
Jackson steps over into the threshold of his dorm room and Derek follows him, hands on Jackson's waist.
"You know if we damage this place, we won't get our deposit back." Derek grumbles before turning the light on.
"You know if we damage this place, we won't get our deposit back." Jackson mimics in a high teasing voice, grinning when Derek scowls.
He knows Derek's not pissed though, one because Derek never if rarely gets angry with Jackson and if he does Jackson can easily gain Derek's forgiveness, it's one of the many perks you get when you've been dating someone for over two years.
Derek locks the door behind him, his movements languid and his eyes glassy from the copious amounts of alcohol himself and Jackson had just consumed. They'd both gotten A's on their recent assignments and had decided to go out and celebrate.
Jackson ambles over when Derek's turned around, brushes his thumb over the short hairs at Derek's temple before kissing him. Derek sighs into his mouth hands coming down to grip Jackson's ass and press their groins together.
"Derek." Jackson breaths, hot and heavy when Derek begins kissing his neck, the top of his head butting against Jackson's chin. Jackson's mouth falls open, tongue feeling thick and heavy in his mouth. He pulls at a strand of hair at the bottom of Derek's skull when Derek bites at the soft flesh of his neck.
They stumble backwards and Jackson turns them, pushes Derek onto the too springy mattress that was left over from the last owners of the dorm. Jackson hates it because it's like quick sand, the moment you sit down the mattress dips around you and it's almost a struggle to get back up again.
Jackson kneels between Derek's parted legs, teeth biting and sucking at Derek's lips as he pushes Derek's jacket down from his shoulders. Derek obliges leaning up enough to shuck the piece of clothing onto the floor. Jackson leans back and smiles when the other chases after him with his mouth.
Derek slowly squints his eyes open.
"What are you doing?" He asks and Jackson doesn't answer just scoots backwards off of the bed.
Derek groans before pushing backwards until he's leaning against the headboard.
"You know you have me for about another twenty minutes before I pass out from extreme alcohol consumption, I'd make the most of it." Derek acknowledges and Jackson just bats a hand at him lazily before digging into his backpack.
He pulls out something and Derek has no time to see what it is before Jackson rushes back over to the bed, jumping upon its surface.
"What the hell is that?" Derek wearily questions and Jackson smiles.
He sits on his knees in front of Derek before he removes the black casing from the object Derek was referring to – a camera.
"I borrowed it from the media department." Jackson answers and Derek raises a brow, let's Jackson scoot and kneel between his legs.
He places his hands on Jackson's thighs, warm and soft beneath his palms.
"You mean you stole it." Derek corrects then smirks when Jackson scoffs indignantly.
"I have every intention of giving it back." Jackson says before he smiles darkly, teeth catching on his bottom lip. "That is once I finish using it." He says, leaning forward to press a firm peck to the corner of Derek's mouth.
"Use it for what?"
"What do you think?" Jackson asks, before readjusting his position so he's straddling Derek.
"A sex tape?" Derek shockingly asks and Jackson nods.
"You want to make a sex tape?" He asks again but somehow he manages to sound more disbelieving than before and completely offended.
"Yes. Come on Derek, where's your sense of adventure?"
"Dying - along with my boner."
Jackson scowls and Derek laughs.
He drums his fingers against Jackson's hip, presses a kiss to the tip of Jackson's nose. "Why would I want a tape when I've got the real thing?" He asks curiously, if not a little playfully and Jackson tries to stay angry he really does but then Derek's peppering fast, hard kisses all over his face and in between those kisses murmuring `you still mad at me?`. When Derek's lips reach his own Jackson cracks, laughing before pushing at Derek's shoulder.
"I hate you." He says and Derek leans back against the headboard, watches Jackson.
"No you don't."
"Whatever." Jackson mumbles, eyes cast sideways, a light flush on his cheeks.
Derek chuckles, pulls Jackson in to kiss him. His hands dip beneath Jackson's shirt, grip his bare hips and Jackson gasps openly against his mouth, hands furtive and deft as they push at the hem of Derek's shirt. They pull away long enough to pull Derek's top over his head then Jackson's back on him lips plump, soft and damp from Derek's tongue. Jackson's hands curl over Derek's bare shoulders, nails dragging over Derek's deltoids.
They pull away panting lightly and Derek takes one hand away to grab the camera.
"How does this thing work then?" He asks and Jackson grins like he's just been given the keys to damn city.
"Really?" The brunette asks and Derek nods.
"Really."
Jackson takes the camera from Derek before opening a small compartment, allowing them to see a screen so they know what they'll be recording. He points to a rounded button with a white circle painted onto it.
"This is the record button." He says, and then points to a blub at the top of the camera. "When this flashes red it means its recording, and this button-." He points to a rectangular black button. "Pauses the recording." He finishes.
Derek nods taking the camera from Jackson's hands. He fiddles with it slightly before putting his hand through the holding strap. Jackson reaches around and presses the record button. Derek holds the camera up to him and get's a zoomed in shot of Jackson's nose and mouth.
"What do I look like?" Jackson asks.
"Like you have boogies." Derek replies and Jackson slaps his hands over his nose.
"I do not." He protests, voice muffled as he shoves the camera away so he can look at Derek's face.
"Do I?" He asks and Derek chuckles.
"No, I was kidding." He says and Jackson thumps him in the arm.
"You know this is supposed to be sexy. We're not supposed to be discussing what mucus may or may not be up my nostril cavity."
"Hmm, I love it when you talk dirty." Derek sarcastically retorts laughing when Jackson sends him a deadpanned look.
"Come on then Mr. Whittemore, do something sexy." Derek coaxes his voice laced with false professionalism and Jackson kisses him slowly, all warm breath and slick tongue before backing away from the bed and standing at the end of it.
It takes Derek a moment to realise the cameras pushed against the mattress, getting a none too interesting shot of the bedding.
He picks it up before curling his fingers around the holding strap and pointing it at Jackson.
Jackson slowly unbuttons his shirt, fingers nimble despite the alcohol he consumed earlier.
He ducks his head and looks up at the camera through his fanned out eyelashes, grinning at the look on Derek's face because lustful doesn't quite cover it.
"No boogers this time." Jackson whispers and Derek swallows.
"No just you looking like you've done this before." Derek raises an eyebrow, looks around the camera to where Jackson has started undoing the clasp of his jeans.
"Have you done this before?" Derek asks and Jackson bends at the waist, pushes his jeans down his thighs. He lets them pool around his ankles before stepping out of them. When he stands up straight he shrugs one shoulder, his open shirt revealing a section of his chest.
"Maybe." He says lifting his knees up onto the bed before crawling over to Derek.
Derek edges the camera away; get's a large portion of the bed in the shot as well as Jackson's collarbone and head.
"With who?" Derek asks and really Jackson hasn't done this before but it's too easy and fun to bait Derek so he does.
"It's a secret." Jackson whispers like its some sort of conspiracy. Derek frowns and Jackson eases the camera out of his hands before pointing it at Derek.
"Are you jealous?" Jackson asks, pressing a button on the camera and zooming into Derek's forehead. "You're eyebrows and more furrowed than usual." Jackson comments, fingers crawling up the inside of Derek's arm.
"No." Derek denies and Jackson laughs.
"Liar." He breaths. Derek pushes forward before moving Jackson onto his back. Jackson hums when Derek's teeth latch onto his peck and he fumbles to get the camera at a good angle. He holds it up by the headboard, the lens following Derek as he moves down Jackson's body.
He runs his thumb over the grey waistband of Jackson's boxers before he cups him through the fabric, fingers teasing at the dark spot of pre-come pressed against the cotton.
"Fuck, Derek." Jackson gasps, hips jerking up. Derek pushes up onto his knees, catching the back of Jackson's thighs in the inside of his elbows. He pushes the teen's legs up and leans forwards, his denim clad crotch connecting with the space between Jackson's balls and anal passage.
"Who?" Derek asks and Jackson stares at him in confusion, readjusts the camera to record the bottom half of their bodies. All that's visible is the huge fucking tent in Jackson's boxers and Derek's tensed abdomen, the hard lines of his chest and the thick dark trails of hair leading down to his groin.
"Who'd you make a tape with?" Derek asks and he's trying so hard not to sound jealous, trying to make it seem like it doesn't bother him as he reaches down to bite at the tight skin over Jackson's ribs.
"Oh my god Derek. Are you serious? No one. Jesus you're like the terminator of polygamy. Only you, you dumbass." Jackson says and Derek smiles small and shaky but the camera picks up on it and so does Jackson.
He smiles back before batting at Derek's head. "Now get back to work." He demands chuckling when Derek nips at his hip.
Derek trials a blazing path down Jackson's abdomen, pushing the sides of his shirt apart until he has the entire expanse of Jackson's chest to work with.
"Jesus, you look so good on camera, you have ide- idea." Jackson breathes, his thighs shaking on either side of Derek's head.
"Yeah?" Derek whispers back, running the sharpness of his teeth along the inside of Jackson's thigh.
"Yeah."
Derek lifts up onto his knees as he removes Jackson's boxers, the teen raises his hips enough to allow the movements, the camera nudging into the pillow. Derek moves back down, pushes Jackson's legs up until their raised at the knee, his thighs bracketing Derek's head. Jackson's breathe stutters before he places the camera onto the middle of his stomach. His gasping breaths slowly push the camera up and down but the angles better from here. Everything is. Jackson's hard his cock a decent five inches, thick in width and pink and wet at the tip. The curly brown hairs at the base of his penis look tangled and messy and Jackson briefly thinks he should have trimmed his pubes before recording this especially since this shot is so up close and personal with his junk but he soon forgets about that because the camera isn't the only thing up close and personal with his junk.
Derek wraps his mouth around the head of Jackson's cock, sucking lightly cheeks hollowing out by the slightest increment and Jackson chokes out a moan, fingers running through the short hairs at the side of Derek's head before his finger curls over the shell of Derek's ear.
"Look at the camera." Jackson says and Derek does, the over illuminated light bulb from above high lighting the hazel in his eyes. Derek's cheeks darken when he spots the bright blink of the recording button and he knew it was recording but there's a difference between acting in front of a camera and acknowledging it. He moves his eyes to Jackson instead, sees him gasping for breath, the noises wounded as their forced out of his throat. Derek dips his head further down, curls his hands around the inside of Jackson's thighs, his fingers rubbing back and forth over the smooth skin adorning Jackson's pelvic bone.
Derek's spit dribbles over his chin and he makes a ridiculous slurping sound as he moves his head up and down, mouth collecting excess salvia and pre –come. Jackson's knees knock into the side of Derek's head.
"Stop, stop. I'm going to come. Derek. Derek." Derek pulls away slowly, grinning as he moves up Jackson's body to kiss him. The camera is cold between their stomachs when Derek presses down.
He pulls away from the slow kiss, lips parting with a soft whisper of skin.
"You look wrecked." Derek comments though there's a hint of humour in his voice.
Jackson nudges his nose against Derek's, reaches between them to grab the camera. He stretches his left arm out, angling it slightly so the top half's of their bodies as well as their faces are visible.
He kisses Derek then, makes sure it's sloppy as hell. Their tongues make slick, messy noises and he wraps his free hand around Derek's shoulder, throws a leg over Derek's hip and pushes up.
"Want you to fuck me." He says between kisses.
"Stretch me open, lay me out, get it all on camera." Jackson says and fuck he's filthy, Derek tells him as much.
Jackson just gives him an appeasing look.
Derek smiles before sitting back on the bed, not bothering with the same strip tease that Jackson provided he removes his jeans and boxer briefs and kicks them away. His cock stands tall jutting out from coarse locks of dark pubic hair. He's just a tiny bit thicker than Jackson, the skin of his cock a dark beige, protruded veins pressed into the skin.
Jackson wolf whistles and Derek rolls his eyes as he turns to him. Jackson runs the camera slowly down Derek's body before he moves it up again.
"Has anyone ever told you how sexy you are?" Jackson asks and his voice is light, familiar, affectionate.
Derek scoffs. "Shut up."
"No seriously." Jackson says. "Even you feet are sexy; maybe you should let me get a shot of them." Jackson moves the camera towards Derek's feet and laughs when Derek shoves it away.
Jackson puts the camera on the bed between them, getting a close shot of Derek's cock and peeking out from beneath it his balls rotund and prominent. Jackson glances a look at the camera as he pulls his shirt down his shoulders and chucks it onto the floor.
They lean in together and their lips meet, the camera records their knees and thighs pressing together.
Derek picks up the camera before holding it above them and facing it southward getting a bird's eye view of both their bodies all toned pectorals, hard cocks and anticipation.
"How are we gonna do this?" Derek asks and Jackson reaches over to the bedside drawer where he left the lube on its surface.
He lies down on his back and pulls one leg up, knee pressing against his chest. Derek moves the camera slowly up and down Jackson's body, the camera drinking everything in at the same time that Derek does. He stops moving the camera when it reaches Jackson's groin and tries to open the cap of lube with one hand whilst keeping the camera on Jackson.
After a new minutes of fumbling Jackson rolls his eyes and sits upright.
"You're terrible at multitasking." He says before opening the cap and squeezing some of the translucent gel onto Derek's middle, index and forefingers. Jackson assumes position and Derek crawls forwards on his knees, presses his lube shiny fingers against Jackson's ass, rubbing up and down, slicking the surrounding area before pushing a finger in.
He tries to move the camera, to get a better look at the way Jackson stretches around him, the pink tight circle of his entrance expanding with each thrust of Derek's finger. Derek adds a second finger and some lube dribbles out of Jackson, all lucid and warm. Jackson chokes back a gasp, his legs trembling.
"What does it look like?" He asks and Derek swallows.
"Hot."
"Yeah?"
"Like you wouldn't believe."
Derek's wrist begins to cramp from holding the camera at a specific angle and he moves it slightly. His hand twitches painfully and the camera falls and smacks down onto Jackson's lubed ass, landing inches away from his balls.
"Ow fucking hell Derek." He seethes shuffling up the bed and kicking the camera towards Derek, the others fingers sliding out of him.
"I got a freakin cramp in my wrist; you try holding the camera one handed and finger fucking you with the other." He grumbles back just as heated. He grabs the camera and winces slightly at the lube coated buttons; they had better clean it before returning it to the media department. Derek struggles to hold back a laugh when he recalls how the camera slapped onto Jackson's exposed ass. He turns to the brunette.
"How's your ass?" He asks and Jackson scowls.
"Screw you."
Derek laughs good-naturedly before pausing the video.
"This is probably going to be the worst home sex tape ever." He declares and Jackson makes an affirming sound.
"Why don't we finish this without the cameras hm?" Derek asks and Jackson nods slowly.
"Okay." He agrees inching back when Derek goes to kiss him. "But we are going to try with the cameras again." He says leaving no room for argument and Derek groans.
"Fine. " When Derek leans in for a kiss and Jackson let's him Derek's almost tempted to start chanting hallelujah because he's been so hard for so long he feels like his cocks about to implode.
Jackson turns over onto his stomach, gasps when Derek runs rough hands down Jackson's back over the curve of his spine, across the dimples at the bottom of his back. His mouth follows and his still slick fingers push back into Jackson working him open, pushing against his inner muscles until he feels them flex and give around the hard pressure of his fingers.
Jackson pushes up onto his hands and knees, dropping down to his forearms a moment later, head bowed. Derek pushes his hips forward as he fucks Jackson with his fingers, crooking and twisting them until Jackson's releasing noises more pained then pleasured.
"Jackson, Jesus." Derek spews when the teen rocks back into his hand.
"Come on, come on." Jackson urges and Derek pulls his fingers out, grabs a pre lubed, ribbed condom (Jackson's such a picky fuck) from the bedside table before opening the packet. He rests his forehead on Jackson's lower back as he scrambles to put the condom on, bites hard at Jackson's bony shoulder blade when he pushes inside him.
Derek gasps out a shuddering moan, cursing when Jackson reaches back to slap at Derek's hip – the only place he can reach albeit uneasily. He digs his nails into Derek's hip and looks over his shoulder at him and Jesus if only they were still recording because this – this right here is fucking Oscar worthy and Derek's damn near to coming embarrassingly quickly. He places his hand on top of Jackson's, draws it away from his hip as he drapes himself over the others back.
Jackson places both their arms on the mattress by his head and Derek links their fingers together as he pulls out. When he snaps his hips forward again Jackson's fingers spasm around his. Jackson's head lolls against the mattress, dark hair matted across his forehead. They move back and forth together, sweaty bodies rumpling up the bed covers.
Jackson pushes his ass out and a litany of curses fall out of Derek's mouth. He shoves himself into Jackson, their hips connecting with a hollow smack as he comes. He feels it rushing out of him in hot warm spurts and so does Jackson, even through the thin piece of latex Derek has covering him. Derek's hand is on Jackson's cock a moment later, slightly sticky with lube. Jackson pushes his hips back and forth, his cock gliding into Derek's fist as he fucks himself back onto Derek's cock and from the sounds of it he's no doubt drilling his prostate every time.
He climaxes within minutes, his come webbing out and covering Derek's sweaty palm and fingers.
They fall away from one another, panting heavily. Derek wraps the condom up soon after, shoves it into the empty packet before chucking it towards the bin in the corner of the room. He misses the shot and groans before flopping down on his side, lifting a corner of the bed sheets before swiping it down over Jackson's come covered stomach.
Derek rests his head on Jackson's abdomen, the skin tacky from his ejaculate.
"I have to admit, that may have been one of your better ideas." Derek mumbles into Jackson's stomach. Jackson runs both his hands through Derek's hair, the dark strands of hair hard with gel.
"All my ideas are good." Jackson says and Derek scoffs, bites lightly at Jackson's skin, its more tongue then teeth and Jackson sighs.
Their quiet for a few minutes then Jackson's stomach starts jumping with little trembling motions.
Derek lifts his head, blinks blearily at his boyfriend and sees him laughing.
"What?" He asks.
"Could you imagine us being porn stars though, bet we'd have some cool names."
"Yeah, what would mine be?" Derek asks, chin pressing into Jackson's belly as he looks up at him.
Jackson looks thoughtful, bottom lip jutted outward. He looks down at Derek and grins.
"Derek – 10 inch- Hale." He says and Derek rolls his eyes. "That's awful."
Jackson hums. "Not to mention untrue." He says and he grins, has the barest of moments to catch Derek's narrowed eyes before Derek's tickling his stomach. Jackson laughs and rolls over and they tumble around in the sheets before Jackson lands on top of Derek legs splayed on either side of the taller boy.
He pushes his hands against Derek's chest and shoves him down into the mattress. They laugh breathlessly, hair tousled and skin flushed a light pink.
"I've got one for you." Derek says and Jackson raises an eyebrow.
"Volume 3 - Jackhammer Jackson and his escapades with power tools." He says in a put upon deep voice and Jackson barks out a sharp round of laughter.
"Power tools? Think we've hit a kink."
Derek runs his thumb down Jackson's side.
"You're my kink." He says and Jackson pulls a bewildered face.
"You're my kink." Jackson repeats incredulously. "How the hell did you get an A in English?" He asks and Derek rolls his eyes.
"Shut up and kiss me." He says and Jackson does.
/
AN- Hmmm so dunno where the hell this came from. I love Halemore or Jerek and there's not enough fics with them so I kinda fancied doing a smutty / fluffy AU. This will remain as a one shot.
Read, review, enjoy.
Much Love
Dolorous Doll
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