[ once they're inside the bedroom properly, derek just - shuts the door. he's not planning anything, of course he isn't planning anything, but if prior experience has taught him anything, it's that quiet, confined intimacy is more conducive to the kind of conversation derek wants to have tonight. the latch clicks shut, and derek breathes out. tate sets the glass down, and derek frowns. ]
Too bad. Drink. You're dehydrated.
[ he's avoiding the last question, at least for a secnd. he's had time to think through how he wants to handle this, and he thinks he can... grease the wheels here without making tate feel like he's been trapped, or like he's been lied to. he'll have to lie to keep it going - feign responsibility and regret for what happened in the storage building, which he feels, but not nearly to the degree he's about to pretend he does. derek scrubs his hand over his beard, and then slowly paces over to the bed.
he kneels. it's not sexual. he just - kneels in front of tate. a form of submission, to some degree. putting himself lower than tate, giving tate the higher ground. derek cautiously pinches the cuff of tate's jeans, just by the ankle. he frowns, and - he tries. ]
I just... miss you. We were doing okay, until I fucked up at the fort. I haven't apologized to you, and I'm... sorry.
[ for throwing an arm over stiles when tate was freaking out, for lying about how they knew each other, for pushing. he's not a liar. he's been lying to tate a lot, recently, but he's not a liar. he's lying to tate right now, but it's... a means to an end. he's going somewhere with this. ]
I thought we could talk, before - anything else. I want to know what's going on in your life, and... and I want to tell you some things about myself, too. If that's okay.
no subject
Too bad. Drink. You're dehydrated.
[ he's avoiding the last question, at least for a secnd. he's had time to think through how he wants to handle this, and he thinks he can... grease the wheels here without making tate feel like he's been trapped, or like he's been lied to. he'll have to lie to keep it going - feign responsibility and regret for what happened in the storage building, which he feels, but not nearly to the degree he's about to pretend he does. derek scrubs his hand over his beard, and then slowly paces over to the bed.
he kneels. it's not sexual. he just - kneels in front of tate. a form of submission, to some degree. putting himself lower than tate, giving tate the higher ground. derek cautiously pinches the cuff of tate's jeans, just by the ankle. he frowns, and - he tries. ]
I just... miss you. We were doing okay, until I fucked up at the fort. I haven't apologized to you, and I'm... sorry.
[ for throwing an arm over stiles when tate was freaking out, for lying about how they knew each other, for pushing. he's not a liar. he's been lying to tate a lot, recently, but he's not a liar. he's lying to tate right now, but it's... a means to an end. he's going somewhere with this. ]
I thought we could talk, before - anything else. I want to know what's going on in your life, and... and I want to tell you some things about myself, too. If that's okay.