Jackson thinks that Derek wouldn't care if he tells him that he's never given head before. In fact he's had very limited experience getting head. But Derek really wouldn't care about that. So Jackson says nothing at all. Trying to quell the shaking in his nervous hands he scoots closer before working at the snap of Derek's jeans. It shouldn't be so difficult but Jackson's scared and hazy and he's never done this before. His jeans weren't a problem. Derek's clearly were. "Do you need me to do it for you Jackson?" Derek questions, tone cutting.
"N-no," Jackson manages, barely. He wishes he could stop stuttering.
"Prove it." Jackson adds more pressure and the silver button finally slips free of the black denim. His victory is short lived when he has to confront the zipper. Derek heaves a sigh before leaning back on his elbows, one black brow spiking. He's clearly all but lost his patience and Jackson yanks the zipper down. A small sound escapes his throat as he takes in the bare skin. It's not quite anything. Maybe a sighing groan. He doesn't know why the fact that Derek hadn't been wearing underwear is so important. It just is. Jackson leans forward, eager now, his mouth open as he sucks at the skin. Derek jerks in surprise but doesn't make a sound, hardening under Jackson's mouth. Jackson is trapped in his own thoughts for a moment as he alternates licking and sucking. It's almost like…Derek was waiting for him just as Jackson was waiting. He's shown it by not wearing anything but jeans. Jackson groans as he has the thought that for whatever reason, Derek wants this too. He wants to hurt Jackson and that's exactly what Jackson needs.
His tongue edges past his lips desperately licking every bit of skin he can get to. When that's not enough he pulls the black denim back, finally releasing Derek. Derek moans when the tip of his cock finally slips past Jackson's parted lips. Jackson freezes perfectly, the guttural sound resonating off the walls. He did that. Derek's hands land on his head, threading through his hair and tugging him forward brutally. Jackson gags and coughs as he takes in more than he was actually able to but Derek held him still mercilessly, nails digging into his scalp. Jackson widens his lips desperately, trying not to panic. Derek groans and arches his hips, driving himself even further in. Jackson shoves at his hips and Derek finally gets the message that he can't breathe and releases Jackson's head. He doesn't apologize or even have the decency to look apologetic. He arches that damn eyebrow again, as if to say 'Well? Get on with it.' Jackson pants for a few moments, darting his tongue out to wet his burning lips before cautiously approaching again. Derek's jutting erection is easily the size of Jackson's wrist which is just ridiculous really. Jackson wonders how Derek can possibly expect him to be good at this. The last thought gives him pause. He looks to Derek carefully, who's watching him with a bored expression. Chances were Derek did know he wouldn't be any good at this. That's why he was doing it. Jackson busies his lips with Derek's skin rather than letting himself smile. Eventually Derek gives up on Jackson's pathetic attempts at getting him off. With one hand on Jackson's shoulder he pushes him back and stands before taking Jackson by the hair and pulling him up the stairs. Jackson tries not to make a sound but moans several times on the way. Louder when his body accidentally brushed Derek's. He'd been hard for so long he was extremely sensitive to any sensation. If Jackson really thought about it he could swear he felt the air moving over his cock as Derek yanked him along.
Hitting the bed, Jackson is shoved into the side of it, should have been a relief but it isn't. His eyes are uncontrollably drawn to Derek as he strips off his jeans and tosses them against the wall. He can't help licking his lips again. It's suddenly painfully obvious what Jackson has been missing in his life so far. He needs someone stronger than him. Someone who can control him without effort. Lydia had her biting words, and honestly that was the only way Jackson could get off sometimes, but that was nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to the glare that Derek turns on him when he sees Jackson is still standing by the bed. "Waiting for a written invitation?" Derek snarls. Jackson manages one leg onto the bed before Derek shoves him down onto it. He lands on a shoulder awkwardly and with another push finds himself lying on his stomach. A firm hand in the middle of his back stops him from moving when he tries. His hands fist in the navy sheets in anticipation. Derek's hand lifts away but Jackson remains. He's sure enough that Derek wants him to stay put not to chance moving. A hand ghosts down his spine and Jackson shivers. A groan slips out when Derek sits on the backs of his thighs unexpectedly. Something sharp pierces the skin just below his neck. Before Jackson has a chance to question it, or even release another sound, Derek's mouth is covering the cut, his tongue dipping into it. The added pressure makes it sting and Jackson moans into the pillow. Still sucking on his skin, Derek breaks through it again, not far from the first.
"What-what are you doing?" Jackson demands between pants. Derek doesn't answer, mouth moving to the second cut, tongue digging in again. Derek moves lower after another moment, repeating the entire process. He does it again and again until Jackson is left in a burning, haze. The nerve endings in his back are on fire and lighting up and he doesn't even care what Derek is doing anymore. All he knows is that it hurts and Derek isn't saying anything so he assumes it's not pissing him off too much. Derek stops just above Jackson's ass and lays his body over Jackson's. His hands move over Jackson's wrists and Jackson can see Derek's hands for the first time since they've gotten into bed. His fingernails are elongated unnaturally, a few stained brown. There are tiny scratches up and down his spine. Jackson shivers beneath Derek, moaning again.
He supposes he knew that Derek wasn't exactly the average town loner. He knows at this point it's the last thing that matters. One of Derek's hands lifts, distracting him, the nails recede unexplainably and then the hand disappears from view. Derek's entire body pulls back and he's spreading Jackson's thighs before settling between them. He pulls Jackson open and spits on the skin before pressing a finger against him. There's only a second's hesitation before Derek shoves it in. Jackson screams into the pillow, arching into the touch even as he does. The motion stretches the skin on his back laboring to close up and it's like pain is in a solid line from Derek straight up to Jackson's brain. For a few dizzying moments, black spots dancing, Jackson can't even breathe. It takes him several moments to realize that Derek is kneading the skin on his thigh, the other hand gently rocking against him. Jackson knows it's only concern over not being able to fuck an unconscious body. He draws that line too. Jackson shifts his body gently, experimentally, more pain sparking in his back, something sticky on his stomach. "Impressive," Derek breathes, inserting another finger as Jackson arches against him again. Jackson silently agrees. He's only ever heard of guys coming without losing their erection. It's a bit mind blowing.
"Please," he manages hoarsely.
"Please what?" Jackson thinks it should be obvious but he says it anyways.
"More." Derek's fingers, still rough inside him, fan before sliding out. Derek yanks his hips up and thrusts inside. Jackson screams again. It hurts more than anything he's experienced. It burns and actually feels like Derek is ripping into him, maybe through him. Tears are pooling in his eyes but he's still desperate for more. He arches his hack and lets it relax before arching again. He keeps the skin moving and the pain rippling through him. Derek quickly takes the hint and settles a hand on the back of his neck, forcing the motion in the same rhythm he's fucking him with. Jackson can't manage more than broken gasps and pants and reaches desperately for his cock. He squeezes hard and jerks his hand roughly unable to wait, needing release. There was so much pain and he knew it wasn't going to last. He didn't want his body to get used to it or relax into it, not before he could- A sharp pain in his shoulder is the last thing it takes to drive him screaming over the edge. Jackson collapses in a boneless heap as Derek finishes above him, moaning into Jackson's skin where his mouth is now connected. Derek releases his shoulder with a slight pop before rolling to the side. After several minutes he glances to Jackson thoughtfully.
"Turn over," he says softly. Jackson manages a half lidded glare and groans before complying. Derek's fingertip runs along the inside of his thigh before he offers it to Jackson. Jackson shoots a questioning glance to the dripping white appendage before letting his lips fall open. Jackson isn't sure why Derek is doing it. Or what exactly his expression is as Jackson slowly sucks his finger clean. He does know something about this is erotic and wrong at the same time. Needless to say, it appeals. Derek's finger returns to his leg and then swirls through the fast drying smudges on his stomach before pausing in front of Jackson's lips again. Heart slamming into his ribs, Jackson sucks it clean again. It doesn't taste any different, even though Jackson has convinced himself it should. He doesn't think beyond that. "Wear a belt next time," Derek says, settling into the bed and laying an arm over his eyes. Jackson's left to wonder in the silence why. He shivers one last time before slipping into the welcoming darkness.
A/N: Might be an epilogue after part five… Writing now. You'll probably know when I do.