[ He doesn't know that - that's the fucking bullseye on the dartboard that is his issues with Tate. Derek at least has the self-awareness to not bring them back into another fucking argument, though, seconds after Tate said he didn't want to talk about all this. So. Derek just nods, like he believes it, keeping his eyes open and alert and neutral. ]

Well - get used to it. I don't want this to feel new. I want this to be - normal, for you.

[ Whatever, though, he's - done. Derek stands a little straighter, leaves all the worrying about his and Tate's relationship behind him. He walks around Tate, stands behind him, and he just - roughs Tate's hair the fuck up, all affectionate and annoying, laughing a little when it reaches the point that it's probably pissing Tate off. He's not being unkind, just... a little obnoxious. ]

I'm not eating that, by the way. [ the pasta that Tate's so diligently dividing. ] Changed my mind. You can meet me halfway on something else. Not on this. I want that plate spotless by the time you're done with it.