[ Tate's climax hits hard, the satisfying pride that Derek gets from feeling him tighten and burn beneath him running down his spine like electricity. He smirks, just for a second, focusing again when Tate shoots his load - he gets a taste of it, a rope or two of cum that gets on his tongue, but most of it lands on his face; a shot across his nose, his cheek, running down his lips and his chin. Derek strokes Tate through it, eager and willing, and there's a part of him, distantly, that knows he never, ever would have done this back home. Never would have been okay with being seen. Never would have let himself be a prop for someone else's voyeurism. Duplicity has... changed him.
His pulse is thudding in his ears, mingling with the heartbeats of the men around him, but as some of them laugh and thank Tate for the show, wandering off to get back to their jobs or to jerk off in the privacy of a bathroom stall - he hears something else. A slow, rising beat, steadily cooling down and warming up at the same time. Derek...
Derek knows that heartbeat. ]
I can - ah.
[ He stands, bumping his knee on the bottom of the workbench. All of a sudden, his hands are on Tate's chest, frantic and clumsy. Through all the nervous agitation, he knows he's touching Tate's heart, his hand pressed in right against his ribcage, confirming with a few steady beats what he already knew. Derek's eyes are wide and he looks-- awestruck, even with the cum still there on his face, openly degrading him. He's touching Tate like he's fragile, hands nervously clinging to Tate's shirt like he's afraid to let go, and he can't - he can't stop staring. It's in his ears. A steadily increasing, steadily stabilizing, all too familiar heartbeat.
Derek looks up at Tate, just... smiling. He laughs, eyes scrunching up a little. He didn't think this would really happen. This is the first time the city's really done something good, since bringing him and Stiles together. ]
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His pulse is thudding in his ears, mingling with the heartbeats of the men around him, but as some of them laugh and thank Tate for the show, wandering off to get back to their jobs or to jerk off in the privacy of a bathroom stall - he hears something else. A slow, rising beat, steadily cooling down and warming up at the same time. Derek...
Derek knows that heartbeat. ]
I can - ah.
[ He stands, bumping his knee on the bottom of the workbench. All of a sudden, his hands are on Tate's chest, frantic and clumsy. Through all the nervous agitation, he knows he's touching Tate's heart, his hand pressed in right against his ribcage, confirming with a few steady beats what he already knew. Derek's eyes are wide and he looks-- awestruck, even with the cum still there on his face, openly degrading him. He's touching Tate like he's fragile, hands nervously clinging to Tate's shirt like he's afraid to let go, and he can't - he can't stop staring. It's in his ears. A steadily increasing, steadily stabilizing, all too familiar heartbeat.
Derek looks up at Tate, just... smiling. He laughs, eyes scrunching up a little. He didn't think this would really happen. This is the first time the city's really done something good, since bringing him and Stiles together. ]
I can - I can hear it? I can hear you.