After the case was closed and Spencer was finally home in his apartment with his books and the familiar smell and of Derek Morgan, he felt much safer and happier than he had all week. The case had been especially demanding of him in specific. He was happy he could help and put the bad guy away, but he was so grateful to just be lying in the arms of the man whom he loved most—his heady and masculine aroma, his thick arms cradling him, his heartbeat, to feel the vibration of his words.
Derek looked down at his lover. "You look so beautiful right now." His words were slow and affable.
Spencer looked up from the book he was reading to the man above him. "I don't deserve you, but I love you even so." Derek shook his head and opened his mouth to argue with his genius, but was met with lips and tongue. Derek hummed in approval, losing his fight, and smiled against his slick and soft lips.
Spencer loved Derek with everything he was. Part of him believed that soul mates were real and that he had been born, been designed—mentally and physically—to be loved by Derek Morgan, and vice versa. The other part would whisper statistics and data and tell him to watch out, that he was making a mistake. But another thing was louder—his heartbeat. When Derek would pull him close and kiss and suck his earlobe, and trace all the indentations and raises on his skin. When he would wake him up with French toast and tell him he loved him. When he would come out of the shower, his body hot and soft, and curl around him in his nakedness and just sleep.
Derek shook his head and laughed lightly, and pulling away a little, he looked deep into big honey brown orbs, "I love you. So much, my pretty boy."
"When I'm with you," Spencer said the words and leaned farther into the larger man, "I know I'm the only one. I know it's just me and you know it's forever and always, only you." With the final word he barely brushed the reddened lips but the owner shuddered deeply, then waited two seconds before he pushed the book away and laid them down on their bed.
Spencer moaned softly and Derek brought his hands down to clutch tightly onto Spencer's jean-clad hips. Spencer tilted his face upwards, improving the angle that his wet lips would meet wet lips. Their tongues slid across one another, their hands in search for their companion. Their lips moved together in sensual unison until Spencer trapped Derek's lower lip in his. He pulled back and sucked on it softly and passionately, causing Derek to hug Spencer even tighter to his body. Derek's large inelegant hands found Spencer's crotch and pushed on the object of his desire beneath. Spencer's body arched up and pressed hard against Derek.
Spencer pulled away from Derek in a hurry and reached down for the hem of his sweater vest and pulled it off and his polo next. He looked down at his lover and slid his hands under the loose t-shirt and rubbed them on his hard abs. He leaned down and flicked his tongue lightly across them. Derek closed his eyes and pushed himself up, switching positions with Spencer, so now he was leaning over him.
"I wonder where you learned to be so good at this…" Derek whispered this and other nonsense as he pulled off his own shirt and sweats. Once he was naked, he moved on to the man underneath him. He undid his belt and zipper and began to pull his jeans down. As he did so he left hot kisses of pleasure along his chest, abdomen, hips, following the angle of his pelvic bone, down his slim and slightly muscled thighs. The jeans were off and Derek's lips followed the same path up until he found lips again.
Even in the middle of the hotness, Derek still marveled at how vulnerable and sweet Spencer sounded. He created a lovely symphony of light and enchanted mewls and sighs. He loved that man more every time he panted or moaned, when his breath caught in his throat, how his eyelids would flutter, the way he would involuntarily bite his lips… completely licentious... Their hands roamed across the terrain of each other's body—the hard, tan, muscle on pale and delicate, a feminine sort of masculinity.
Derek flipped his young genius onto his stomach. He leaned over him to kiss between his shoulder blades, down his spine until his mouth was closest to his round ass. He saw Spencer's hands ball into the white sheets into tight fists. He could imagine his face as Derek prepared to enter him, the sweet, innocent pleasure and love plain on his face, alone in his apartment where they don't have to lie and pretend.
Derek pushed the lube-covered single digit into his tight hole. He heard Spencer's moan as he pushed in and out twice before adding another finger. Spencer's white ass rose higher in the air and he heard his name being called into the pillow beneath Spencer's face.
"I love you, Spencer," Derek whispered—or moaned really—as he pushed his freshly lubricated cock inside Spencer and his hips met his ass. Spencer buried his face into the pillow and Derek put his hands on Spencer's lower thighs and pulled the man's body harder and closer to his own. Derek was careful not to touch the bundle of nerves inside, knowing just how sensitive Spencer was. He didn't want to take either one of them over the edge yet; he wanted to make the pleasure last.
Spencer could feel the pressure building in his stomach and felt his toes and fingers start to tingle. He bit his lips almost painfully hard while pushing his hips back onto Derek's cock. Just as he was closet to his orgasm, Derek slowed down—he had more control over their pace than Spencer did. Spencer cried out and begged Derek to go faster, that he couldn't take it. He made no change in his rhythm; slow and deep. Then Derek grabbed Spencer's dick and started to stoke him lovingly. He twisted his wrists around his love's member as he started to tremble violently beneath him. By this time Spencer was near screaming, but before long they both collapsed onto the bed panting and holding each other close.
"I love you, so very much," Spencer whispered on Derek's chest. He looked up at Derek and suggested a shower, but Derek saw more implied in those child-like brown eyes.