Isaac slid out of Derek's lap, and somehow got to his feet, as wobbly as he was. Normally, he would have carefully stripped off his clothes, folding everything neatly. The alcohol and wolfsbane had robbed him of both the coordination and the sense, and instead everything was left in a messy pile on the floor.
"So wet for you already, Master," he hummed, rubbing himself against Derek's side, unable to wait for the contact.
"Open and ready. I love wearing the plug for you."