[ Right - whether he means to or not, Tate's parroting back a lot of the same words Derek's said to him over the time they've shared together. Promises to open up more, a hopeful urging on Derek's part for Tate to allow him to take care of him. It feels like telling Tate at this point that he can't put his problems on his shoulders, or-- or that he can't fill him in on everything he's dealing with-- would be wildly hypocritical. Derek made Tate promise him his honesty. Can't exactly fault him for wanting honesty in turn.
Slowly, Derek withdraws some of the citations he brought over from home - not all of them, but a few scraps of paper that he stuffed into his pocket, all of them wrinkled and poorly folded, having been read and re-read a dozen times. He slides them over to Tate, reluctantly, feeling like he's signing away whatever little independence this city still affords him now, and - they're not as harsh as they could be, really. Something about being edged, something about toys, something about sensory deprivation. ]
There's... something about being bound, in one of those. Something about-- servicing. Orally. It's...
no subject
Slowly, Derek withdraws some of the citations he brought over from home - not all of them, but a few scraps of paper that he stuffed into his pocket, all of them wrinkled and poorly folded, having been read and re-read a dozen times. He slides them over to Tate, reluctantly, feeling like he's signing away whatever little independence this city still affords him now, and - they're not as harsh as they could be, really. Something about being edged, something about toys, something about sensory deprivation. ]
There's... something about being bound, in one of those. Something about-- servicing. Orally. It's...
[ It's-- it is what it is. ]