confiscated: (⇀ from inside)
Brooks Myers ([personal profile] confiscated) wrote in [personal profile] calloused 2019-03-10 05:10 am (UTC)

I'm not...

[Tate's trying not to think of the sinkhole in his chest that erupts any time he remembers the shed at Fort Harmony. But like a piece of gum stuck to his shoe, it stretches out and he can either pretend it's not there or forcibly detach it. It's the latter he tries to do with a calm head, perhaps only as steadily balanced as it is on account of the euphoric baseline he's still living in.

He blinks a few times, considering Derek's offer before continuing. He's got both arms through the sleeves now and the jacket looks a little too large for him, like the borrowed thing it is. But it has a certain smell to it, a familiar feeling that makes it feel right. He tugs it closer to his neck, arm folding across his chest to keep it closed.]


I don't want to be... exploiting you. I'm...

[A tired, weary sigh. He rubs at his eye until he sees stars through it.]

If you're gonna act like a sugardaddy you might as well get something for it.

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