[ Derek's never been the type to pander, exactly, so maybe this is less the performance of mental gymnastics he thinks it has to be. There's truth in this, to whatever degree, and when Tate relaxes, Derek relaxes, too. He's still touching - dragging his hands further down the small of Tate's back, letting the intimacy of the moment last. ]
Neither do I.
[ He steps back, soon enough, just to curl his fingers beneath his tank and slowly drag it over his head. ]
no subject
Neither do I.
[ He steps back, soon enough, just to curl his fingers beneath his tank and slowly drag it over his head. ]
You make me feel jealous all the time, though.