[Nudged, Tate nudges back and and works on finishing off his can of beer. It'll take a few swigs yet, but he's determined - chugging it before slapping at Derek's bicep in a playful mood. He hopes this is what the treehouse becomes - a place to look at the night sky, to dick around and have fun in. A home away from home that promises security but is never, ever lonely.]

Good thing we're doing all this touchy feely shit now, makes it less awkward to share the sleeping bag.

[He curls his lip, smiling as he draws up one knee and shifts how he sits so they're side by side. He leans against his bent leg, the other hanging over the platform edge like Derek's. He holds on to his beer until the can is empty, setting it next to him with the knowledge the remainder of the six pack is only a reach away.]

Hey. If... If you could get drunk, or high - would you want to try? Just if it were possible.