It's...

[Tate doesn't like this because it feels like a bear trap ready to snag him if he treads on it. He drops his gaze for a moment, trying to pull together his answer. All he ever has to do is part his lips or his legs and Kavinsky will make him come, but it often feels like a pack of matches waiting to be struck with him in the same breath. He could've broken his nose in the hotel with how hard Kavinsky knocked him into the wall and he remembers his first time, pained but under aphro, receiving from Kavinsky who seemed overjoyed to have the opportunity.

There's clear confliction in Tate's eyes, when he looks back up to Derek and stares into his like he's searching for something to hold on to. He doesn't have trouble meeting quota and he and Kavinsky very much do - but.]

It's never a sure thing, with him. And... If I'm going to try and live cleaner, I mean. That's also a big part of it. I don't know if I've ever done anything with him sober. So...

[All the better to do it with someone safer, right? Does that work?]