[Tate takes a moment before he cocks a brow with a look that says 'fair enough', before letting a smile crookedly surface across his lips. He takes his hand out of his pocket, swapping which one holds the cigarette before leaning back against the brick behind them. Derek hints that he wants to be thought of as Tate leveling up, so to say, so he indulges him with a snort.]

Guess it's true, I don't really wanna stab you. So.

[Joke? Totally. He takes another drag of his cigarette, letting it burn low to the filter.]

I was kidding about the motel but - I think you're right about something celebratory. But I prefer the bed in the treehouse if you know what I'm saying.