[ Derek's overwhelmed in a way he so rarely, rarely is. He's lit up like the sun, all carefree and full of joy, touching Tate's chest a little firmer, now, like he's letting himself believe that this is going to last. It's possible that Tate's never seen him this happy, honestly - this was a face only ever reserved for Stiles, who could pull it from him with a smile or a joke rather than with a tremendous life-altering change born out of a public act of indecency. ]
Yeah. Yeah, it's--
[ Derek nods, as fast as he can. It's worth it. It's the same. Derek laughs, kind of watery, pressing forward like a dog reuniting with its owner, dropping his head against Tate's shoulder and just - staying there, for a second. He closes his eyes tight, wraps his arms around Tate's waist, and he just - holds on, for a second. He's known so many people who have gone through so many horrible, awful things - so many people who have lost so much. He's overwhelmed, knowing that finally, someone's getting something back.
He pulls back, eyes glossy, sniffing and rubbing his nose with his knuckle. He's still gotta get his tattoo taken, the guilt scratched into his throat - but he doesn't care about that right now. Derek grabs Tate's wrist, tugs, and starts pulling him towards the entrance. They're getting out of here - Derek's gonna drive Tate straight back to the beach by the den, if he'll let him, knee jumping anxiously in the driver's seat as he goes. ]
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Yeah. Yeah, it's--
[ Derek nods, as fast as he can. It's worth it. It's the same. Derek laughs, kind of watery, pressing forward like a dog reuniting with its owner, dropping his head against Tate's shoulder and just - staying there, for a second. He closes his eyes tight, wraps his arms around Tate's waist, and he just - holds on, for a second. He's known so many people who have gone through so many horrible, awful things - so many people who have lost so much. He's overwhelmed, knowing that finally, someone's getting something back.
He pulls back, eyes glossy, sniffing and rubbing his nose with his knuckle. He's still gotta get his tattoo taken, the guilt scratched into his throat - but he doesn't care about that right now. Derek grabs Tate's wrist, tugs, and starts pulling him towards the entrance. They're getting out of here - Derek's gonna drive Tate straight back to the beach by the den, if he'll let him, knee jumping anxiously in the driver's seat as he goes. ]