[ Derek didn't expect he'd stay, no, but the look he gives Tate says that if the positions were reversed, he himself wouldn't be so quick to leave. He'd - want to see Tate like that, want to dwell in the jealousy and the anger, just because Derek makes poor decisions like that all the time. That's, again, how the city works.

But he sits up, again. Tries to change the flow of the conversation. They were getting into something, earlier, and now that Derek sees a way out through that, he's going to try and take it. Without warning, Derek straddles Tate's hips, rolling him onto his back by force, if he has to. He drops his weight down, braces his hands on his chest, and raises his eyebrows, forcing himself to look vaguely playful and energetic. Better than miserable and guilty and still kind of angry. ]

Let me make it up to you, then. However you like. You're my Dom, aren't you? Give me an order.

[ He drums his hands on Tate's chest, maybe a little too hard. ]

Just... not with the bite. I can't - I won't bite you just to prove that I care about you. It's worth more than that.