[ This fucking cat. Derek presses his jaw together, meeting her stare with one of his own. He's going to do better this time - no roaring, no gnashing of his teeth, no threats to tear her open with his claws. He just watches, and he waits, and as far as standoffs go, this one's pretty tense. Derek's grateful when Tate disarms her.
Tate looks - good. Warm. The cum on his body, the light bronze-gold of his hair - he looks comfortable, he looks safe, and when Derek looks at him, he sees everything he wants in his pack. Someone who looks so incredibly, perfectly taken care of. Someone who looks so at peace with being in Derek's life. Derek's a little speechless, and for the first time in a while, he feels his heart skip a beat when he looks at Tate. He's... pretty fucking aroused by the sight of him, yeah, but more than that, he's just - emotional. He's proud. He loves this little shit.
Tate asks what he brought him, makes some joke about Cobain, and Derek just kinda stumbles over himself for a second, lightly pink with want and something else. He scratches at his nose, shrugs one shoulder, sniffs. He rolls out his arms and looks at the bag in his hand, going through it, but he just sorta-- stares, for a second, at the contents of each box hidden away in here, his mind a million miles away. Tate just... Tate looks really, really good. ]
Um.
[ Something. God. His brain isn't working. He shakes his head, laughs kind of awkwardly, then scratches the back of his neck. He looks up, gives Tate another once over, taking in that endeared smile, the expectant look. Tate's touching his arm and Derek feels weirdly flustered, mumbling a quick right, okay, remembering the phonecall, remembering the garage. ]
So - here. Just...
[ Just - go through them. He hands the bag over to Tate, ignoring the way Cobain's back arches from the doorway she's leaving through when Derek moves so suddenly. It's... a pretty varied stash of supplies. Toys, ropes. Things that vibrate, things that don't. There should be more subtlety and grace in how he... presents all of this, but Derek clearly doesn't seem to give a shit. This isn't the first time he's bought toys in this fucking city. He's worked out all his shame already. ]
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Tate looks - good. Warm. The cum on his body, the light bronze-gold of his hair - he looks comfortable, he looks safe, and when Derek looks at him, he sees everything he wants in his pack. Someone who looks so incredibly, perfectly taken care of. Someone who looks so at peace with being in Derek's life. Derek's a little speechless, and for the first time in a while, he feels his heart skip a beat when he looks at Tate. He's... pretty fucking aroused by the sight of him, yeah, but more than that, he's just - emotional. He's proud. He loves this little shit.
Tate asks what he brought him, makes some joke about Cobain, and Derek just kinda stumbles over himself for a second, lightly pink with want and something else. He scratches at his nose, shrugs one shoulder, sniffs. He rolls out his arms and looks at the bag in his hand, going through it, but he just sorta-- stares, for a second, at the contents of each box hidden away in here, his mind a million miles away. Tate just... Tate looks really, really good. ]
Um.
[ Something. God. His brain isn't working. He shakes his head, laughs kind of awkwardly, then scratches the back of his neck. He looks up, gives Tate another once over, taking in that endeared smile, the expectant look. Tate's touching his arm and Derek feels weirdly flustered, mumbling a quick right, okay, remembering the phonecall, remembering the garage. ]
So - here. Just...
[ Just - go through them. He hands the bag over to Tate, ignoring the way Cobain's back arches from the doorway she's leaving through when Derek moves so suddenly. It's... a pretty varied stash of supplies. Toys, ropes. Things that vibrate, things that don't. There should be more subtlety and grace in how he... presents all of this, but Derek clearly doesn't seem to give a shit. This isn't the first time he's bought toys in this fucking city. He's worked out all his shame already. ]