[ fuck, that message. the shelves are digging into his spine and his arm is pretty uncomfortable, but he feels more alert and aroused than he has for a while. he keeps circling back to the sound of people working on cars, the sight of feet beneath partitions. someone just needs to turn a corner or look past a few boxes and they'll see him. a part of him wants that. maybe that's fucked up. it would be, back home. maybe not in duplicity.
he calls tate. he shouldn't, because making more noise is only going to draw more attention, but he dials his number, and when tate picks up, derek's voice is an unsteady whisper. ]
no subject
[ fuck, that message. the shelves are digging into his spine and his arm is pretty uncomfortable, but he feels more alert and aroused than he has for a while. he keeps circling back to the sound of people working on cars, the sight of feet beneath partitions. someone just needs to turn a corner or look past a few boxes and they'll see him. a part of him wants that. maybe that's fucked up. it would be, back home. maybe not in duplicity.
he calls tate. he shouldn't, because making more noise is only going to draw more attention, but he dials his number, and when tate picks up, derek's voice is an unsteady whisper. ]
Together. Okay? Same time. You and me.