[ Derek can tell that Tate's starting to feel kind of trapped, the little wiggle of his leg giving it away as much as the uncomfortable twinges of pain Derek can sense coming from his body. It's... difficult to move, both from a physical standpoint and just out of how fucking tired he is, but when Tate jokes about this being, uh, inconvenient, he decides he's gotta give it a try. ]

Sorry.

[ He apologizes with a sleepy sort of mumble, putting all of his willpower into rolling onto his side, dragging Tate along with him like he doesn't weigh a thing. Derek shifts a little so that they're both facing the back of the seat they're laying on, breath hitching here and there when Tate squeezes reflexively around his still so sensitive cock, ankles straightening out every now and then when he wants to pound into Tate and can't.

They settle again, eventually, clumsy and difficult, and Derek wraps his arms around Tate's stomach and chest, not quite squeezing him but not quite not. Every time he exhales he blows air against the back of Tate's neck, and his eyes are closed like he could fall asleep like this. ]

You know what I mean, though. You... make me happy. Make me want to be a better person. I want... I want to give you everything in the whole wide fucking world, I want-- I want to change for you, I want to...

[ He wants to get it right, this time. He wants to be an Alpha to be proud of. Derek sighs, softly, his lips against Tate's shoulder, his voice cracking from tired misuse, dropped so low it's barely audible. ]

I just want to do everything right. You're my pack, you're-- you're worth so much to me. I never want to lose that feeling.