[ right, fair. after getting trapped in the hotel once already, he's a little reluctant to just dive into it again, but that guy did sign it off as relatively, decently safe when it comes to spies. if that's the kind of security tate needs, derek's not going to turn him down.
he runs his hand over his chin, trying to decide on whether or not it's worth it to say yes or if he should just drag tate back to the den, but ultimately, he left the ball in tate's court. he throws on a shirt and heads to the bathroom to rinse his face, typing to tate with one hand. ]
Okay. Meet me the lobby, or something. I'll be there as soon as possible.
[And that's that. Tate will be in the lobby waiting, in a semi-new outfit that carries with it the scent of at least one other person. Notably Kavinsky, though a little bit of Peter might've rubbed off on his clothes too, from when he spent time with him in one of the suites overhead. His sleeves are pulled down low, covering some marks on his wrists, and he chews on his nail absently while waiting for Derek.
Aside from a few other bruises, some spilt across his neck beneath his collar, Tate looks in generally good shape. A little more content and balanced out, well fed and with the exception of a pensive look currently on his face - he seems happy overall. He tips his head when he catches a glimpse of Derek, nodding upward in greeting.]
Hey. You wanna get a drink at the bar or chat upstairs?
[ That's that. Derek arrives, in his usual layers, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, posture rigid. He's actually looking even more unapproachable than usual; his lips are set in a straight, angry line, and his eyes are peeled open, alert and unblinking. He's either angry about something or just - really, really doesn't want to be here.
He's used to the smell of sex permeating the air in Duplicity, but when he meets up with Tate and catches the scent of multiple people on his outfit, he does his best not to comment. ]
Could've showered before we met up.
[ His best isn't as good as it could be, apparently. Still, Tate looks happy, and Derek's not going to rain on that, in spite of his bad mood. He tucks his hands a little deeper into his pockets and lightly shakes his head. ]
I don't care. You're the one who wants to talk. I'll go wherever feels safest for you.
[Tate's expression flickers, all that contentment faltering for a second when Derek comments and he feels like he just tripped up on something. His brows pinch and he doesn't quiet know how to answer, doesn't quite get the whole insinuation right then and there. But his suspicion of what he means settles in slowly, and he goes from perhaps a touch embarrassed to... annoyed.]
What's that supposed to mean?
[Better off leaving it rhetorical but if Derek wants to answer, Tate'll roll his eyes. Just because he thinks it might annoy Derek back, he nods toward the lobby pub with all intents of having a drink or two now. He'll even start heading over, walking ahead a few strides - though he looks down discreetly at himself as if still hung up on the scent comment. What can he smell? Who can he smell?]
[ Once Derek gets a little more over himself, he'll probably feel bad for souring Tate's mood, but. That's not happening yet. He doesn't answer Tate's question, but he senses the imminent eye roll anyway, mildly annoyed by it, and when Tate leads him out to the bar, he follows along. Quietly biting back any comments about how Tate's only seventeen, knowing full well that the city doesn't give a shit about things like that.
He takes a few steps ahead of Tate just so he can guide them to the corner of the bar, where it's darker and more narrow and there's less of a chance people will try to come over and talk to them. After getting their drinks, he grabs a table rather than heading up to the bar itself, sliding into the most shaded seat and sighing through his nose once he settles. Tate joins him, and Derek doesn't really want to lead conversation, but he taps his fingernails against the glass beer bottle he has in his hands, making an attempt at it anyway. ]
[Tate settles across from Derek, hold his beer bottle between his hands like he's uncertain if Derek's going to get mad at him for having it - or that anything else he does now might trigger some sort of microaggression against him. But he takes a swig and plays his tongue over his lip, buying himself a second to think. Because, so far it's been a rocky road of figuring out what he wants to say.]
Yeah. After - Fort Harmony, shit here... just seems like it's back to normal, y'know? Nobody's getting any foothold in doing anything against the norm. But I want to. Or at least to find a way to get to know people who can come together if we're ever sent to Fuckaway Camp again and do something other than sit on our hands.
[It's - hard, because this is the only time he'll admit to Derek that at seventeen, he doesn't have it all together. Doesn't know how to do the networking, the resources, doesn't know how to put it all together without some help. But he's stubborn and that's the glue that's worked so far.]
I wanna do something like Autonomy, but run by people we know. But not just as a club, but to use that as a safe zone for talking about actual shit. Does that make sense?
[ Derek listens, head bowed, as Tate talks. It's true; people have been so quick to forget the Fort, swept up in distractions and the temporary calm of the city, like the fear and the anger that came from seeing people die is somehow - behind them. It hasn't been sitting well with Derek either, which is why he and Stiles have been investigating the city as best as they can. It's... reassuring, to know that they're not the only ones who want to do things.
He lifts his head. He looks at Tate for a second or two, thoughtful, and then nods, obligingly. ]
It does.
[ That's - the only response Derek is offering, but it's cordial and alert. Attentive. He's looking at Tate differently now; he's not bristling and stubborn and annoyed about being called back to the hotel, he's focused and interested in what Tate has to say. He's quietly pressing him for more information, more ideas. More anything. ]
[Tate frowns, trying to think the next step ahead - all of this has rattled around in his head and he wants to get it out. Feeling like the people he thought were core members of resisting things were starting to fall for the pitfalls of this place, it's good to know he still has some people who are - thinking ahead. He rubs at his face and uses his hands while he talks, something that indicates Tate's far into his own head and enthusiastic.]
I don't - I don't know how to do it but it feels like it's possible? To just, start scouting locations. Set up the parties, maybe, as surface level infractions to cover for whatever plans we have underneath. Does the Autonomy rip make sense? Or should they just be - wild ragers, like the one Kav hosted? I don't know if I'm going too deep, y'know?
[Hand. Gesture.]
I just want to rotate things around. Keep it all moving and find some fucking way of stopping this place before we have to deal with any more bullshit. This hotel existing as a neutral zone - that means that there's more out there, right? Cities that don't follow this d/s rule? Even still, whoever owns this place has the power to flip people's designations. That's - that's fucked up? Just to do it on a whim. It's like we're... somebody's mice in a maze.
[He's starting to get emotional. Wound up. His teeth clenched.]
[ Tate namedrops the person who threw the party that fucked him up so stupendously badly, and Derek immediately, visually reacts. He doesn't draw attention to the name or vocalize his feelings on having this information, but he doesn't really need to - the change is swift and immediate, a wall of thick, impenetrable anger shooting up in front him. Kav. What a stupid name. "Kav". Awful. Awful name, for such an irresponsible prick. Derek immediately dislikes him.
Still - now's not the time for that. He scratches at the label of his beer bottle, peeling it off with his nail while he focuses on what matters here, staring at the condensation on the glass until he calms down a little. Tate's got some decent plans laid out, though Derek sees their flaws. He doesn't want to discourage him from this, because this is the energy they need to take to Duplicity if they want their independence, but. Carefully, he starts to speak, staring at his hands, still clasped around his drink. ]
People were executed at Fort Harmony for not showing enough obedience to LIES. I don't think making a second Autonomy will work. You'd just be broadcasting your intentions. Painting a target on your back. We'd need a cover so we can resist in secret until we have an actionable plan to follow through with.
[ He's not comfortable with those covers being wild ragers, and only partially because he thinks Tate would take every opportunity to get high, but. It's a better idea than acting like Autonomy, he guesses. ... Aaalso - ]
Don't buy into this hotel being "neutral". It's a deathtrap. It's already fucked with my consent once, and there's nothing to say the owner won't punish people for stepping outside their roles, even after inviting them to. Feels like more of a maze to me than the rest of the city.
[Tate's voice is smaller for the moment, a mix of not being certain what pissed Derek off and then - trying to take what his reply is in stride. This place being a trap, well - he could see that. But at the same time, maybe he just wanted to believe that it was possible to have a shred of something else in this place. Is it just a test, after Fort Harmony, to see how many of them really stick to their roles here? But that guy said it's bug free...]
I don't know. What do you think we should do, then? As a cover? In the Fort we kept using playing cards as a code for meeting up to talk discreetly. Should we start playing poker here or something?
[Ragers though. #want]
Or like, try to really act like we're into it? Some sort of fetish party shit, just... for appearances.
[ Tate doesn't seem entirely willing to doubt the hotel, and if Derek wasn't invested in keeping his morale up for the sake of following through on what's genuinely shaping up to be a decent plan, he'd probably needle him about that until he realized what a danger it is to hope for something better. Maybe there are cities out there that are less dangerous than Duplicity, or Veracity - but if there are, why hasn't anyone heard of them before now? Why hasn't anyone come to save them?
Poker sounds - ultimately not very helpful, and Derek pulls a face in response. The fetish party could work, maybe, but there's a chance prying eyes would wonder why they formed their own roaming group to engage in SM when there are so many options to explore that kind of kink readily available in the city. No matter what plan they come up with, Derek's going to be pessimistic and find a flaw in it, so. He'll... try to curb that. ]
We can think of a cover later. You should focus on who you would bring into this, and on coming up with plans of attack in case we do need to defend ourselves.
[ A pause. Derek looks up from his hands, meets Tate's eyes. ]
Setting something up like this could be dangerous. Are you sure you're okay with that?
[He answers quick, and honest. His life as a sub at the bottom of the food chain is only one resent-oriented fueling source behind this but the overall unfairness - the desire to do better and have a mark? That fuels him too. He likes to think at least something about this is selfless in origin, but he struggles to really identify what. Especially when Derek mentions bringing people into the circle and he... drops his gaze to the table, evidently troubled.]
I thought I knew some people, at least - a person. But... she got designation swapped. She says she's still going to help try and do something, but she didn't even wanna really question why she got promoted. She was - one of the most resistant subs around and they promoted her to a dom. It's like they just... wanted to take her out of the workings, y'know?
[He's troubled about this - consider it his flawed fear of abandonment, but he can't help but still struggle to deal with her attitude toward it. Especially when she accused him of being jealous, rather than picking up on what he was trying to tell her. He wonders if he should've worded it different. But - how?]
Maybe the hotel's not - not as safe as I thought, yeah. If they can do that kinda shit just on a whim.
[ Tate might not have much to lose, but the people he pulls into this with him might. Derek wonders if he should bring that up, but ultimately - it's not really Tate's problem. If he's willing to get in trouble for his part in this, so should everyone who opts to help out. Derek hits Tate with a long, long stare, only breaking eye contact when Tate breaks it first. ]
She sounds like an idiot. At the very least, a liability.
[ He wasn't around when Stiles was a dom, but Derek saw the Down before he even saw the inside of his provided housing. It was disgusting, turning his back on the smooth, polished luxury the Up provided for him and walking barefoot into the dust and the grime of Stiles' new home. There's a cruelty in being dropped from Dom to Sub. The change can't be as difficult to adjust to the other way around, and Derek's quick to assume that Tate's friend is just a lazy moron who would rather enjoy the comfort of the Up than do anything to get her hands dirty. Not the kind of person worth inviting to a super secret rebellion party club.
Derek shakes his head. Doesn't matter. Tate's clothes still smell like sex, and if Tate got laid because of the hotel's influence, it shouldn't have taken a designation switch for him to realize this place is as demanding and selfish as the rest of Duplicity. Given that Derek's been in a similar boat, it takes... a lot of willpower not to throw stones in a glass house, here. ]
Look - I'm paranoid enough for the both of us. Don't worry about how dangerous the hotel is, just - focus on your plan. It's a good plan.
[ Derek tags a sip of his beer, shifting forward in his seat. ]
I'm pretty proud of you, actually. It's brave, to take initiative like this. I'm impressed.
I guess what bothered me was... she acknowledged how shit it is to be a Sub in the Down. And was like - why would I want that? When she can have the glitzy shit, and the resources. Like, those I understand... but I don't know. It's like they made her a - a.. trap? Like maybe they're watching her now, waiting for her to do something.
[So it's enough for Tate to want to take a step back from those card games, from her in general, not to risk being entangled if they do have some sort of zoomed in lens following her now. And maybe he is still a bit offended of how she talked down about the world some subs still live in, just out of context. He figures he has to do his own shit now, lest he be sitting on his ass.
He exhales hard.]
Anyway. I thought you- since you're a dom, you could help. I have... access to some stuff, too, but the... more doms the better.
[Hey look at this condensation ring on the table, it's so fucking fascinating. Tate rubs his fingers around it, struggling for a second before his eyelashes flutter and he dares to look up. Why this suddenly feels like a big thing, something that makes him want to throw up, he's not sure. He can feel his heart in his chest and he knows Derek can feel it too.
He hopes he doesn't take back his feelings on being impressed now.]
[ Derek - wouldn't be surprised, honestly. The citations on the network, the revelation that they're being tracked through their phones; focused surveillance on problem LIERs seems like the next obvious step.
But he doesn't get the chance to comment on that. Tate keeps talking, and it takes Derek a second or two to realize what he's trying to say, unable to think when that same angry itchiness is closing in on him again. It's the full moon, tonight. He always gets in a bad mood before the full moon.
There's a spark in his head - the more doms the better - and his eyes drop to Tate's chest, obviously zeroing in on his heartbeat. He looks back up, meets Tate's eyes, and just... gets it. ]
You're contracted?
[ He gave Tate until today to decide. Derek wasn't going to bring it up - figured if Tate wanted to talk about the bite, he'd do it after he finished asking for help. He tries to keep his face neutral, but this is one of those few occasions where he fails to keep up appearances. ]
[He doesn't know how much of an excuse that is when he's had a lot of it, and when he's been talking about trying to fight the system - he gave into it. He could blame Stiles for telling him bad things happen to those who wait, or maybe it was just the fresh and hot faced rejection from Violet that made him need someone else to say yes. And they did. He avoids looking at Derek for a moment, suddenly parched and in need of a few sips of his beer.
Then he licks his lips, eyes skittish when they glance upward.]
Kavinsky.
[Tate steels for the response he expects - that tired, frustrated look that Ben used to give him. The fury and disappointment he grew up with. The abandonment that's haunted him alongside rejection all of his life and death. He steels himself for it, eyes already misted, because he can feel it on the air. He did the wrong thing, in Derek's eyes, but it was the only choice Tate could make. That Tate wanted to make.
[ Derek understands. At first, at least, Derek understands. Again, he saw how Stiles lived when he first arrived; stripping someone of their power and position and safety as a punishment for not playing along was pretty fucking harsh, and if that's the punishment given to a Dom, he can't imagine how hard it could be for a sub.
But then Tate keeps talking. ]
The guy who-- wait, hold on.
[ Tate's tears don't actually mean much right now. Not when Derek's confused and trying to make sense of the situation. Derek holds up a hand like he's telling Tate to be quiet, eyebrows furrowed and eyes a little angry. He's not tired, not frustrated, not angry. Not disappointed. Not at first.
It builds slow. ]
Is that - are you serious?
[ Derek pauses, like he's waiting for Tate to say that this is just-- a joke, or something, and when that doesn't happen, he barks out a laugh, feeling this cold, angry heat run down his neck. He moves closer to the table, points at Tate with the hand he'd held up. ]
You were out of your fucking head because of the shit that went down at that guy's party. You nearly died. You probably did die. He was the host, he should have-- did he even know you were ODing? Did he get you that high in the first place?
[Tate leans back a little in his seat like he's taken aback by Derek's anger, when in reality he expected some of it. It was why he's been hesitant about spilling out the facts, same as when he never really divulged just how fucked up that party had been in the first place. Now's definitely not the time to talk about how it was Kavinsky, personally, who drugged Tate enough to get a blowjob out of him in exchange for some goodies to walk home with.
Tate signed with him anyway.
He took to signing with the guy who shoulder checked him into a wall, took advantage of him while he was - whatever he was - and, well, rivals Derek in just how possessive he is of Tate. Only he's more property to Kavinsky than he is family to Derek, and maybe that's why Tate had hoped to keep these channels separate. But they had to collide at some point. He just thought he had more control over how.]
I did that to myself. He just - supplied.
[Not a lie, really, because Tate did know he was pushing it. But he still frowns, thinking maybe that's not enough. But it's too late because in the end? Tate still signed with the guy.]
He's not some freak, okay? He and I are a lot alike.
[ Maybe it's just the full moon getting to him, maybe it's the growing sense of disappointment and resentment boiling in his chest, but Derek's getting angry enough to see Tate in... kind of a bad light. He just supplied, Tate says, and Derek rolls his eyes hard enough to roll his neck with them. He's not some freak, he adds, and Derek answers fast and sharp, almost cutting him off with how quick he is to answer. ]
I'm not calling him a freak, I'm calling him irresponsible.
[ Derek offered Tate a home, he offered him safety, and rather than reach out and take it, Tate - what - ran to the guy who can keep him high, maybe fuck him in the way that Derek keeps denying him? Tate had to realize Derek wouldn't be okay with this. He was so fucking worried, that night. Tate had to have known that.
Tate's kind of an asshole. Tate's just-- using him, that's what this feels like. He keeps acting like he's this hurt, sad little boy who needs help, while all the while, he feeds his bad habits and sinks further into shitty relationships, ignoring Derek's advice and attempts to help him. He calls on Derek when he wants something from him, and that's - suddenly, it feels like that's all Tate wants him for. This relationship feels a whole lot less real, suddenly. A whole lot less like it matters what Derek thinks or feels or wants. Derek said he wanted to take care of Tate, sure, but he didn't want their relationship to feel this one-sided.
He's not dealing with this. Fuck this. Tate has to know how worried Derek was that night, he has to know what the offer for the bite meant. Derek leaves his beer where it is, still mostly full, and stands up, shaking his head. Can't do this. ]
I'm out of here.
[ He's just - going to yell right now, if he stays. ]
[Tate's panic is immediate and he puts his palms to the table, standing up too quickly himself - ready to trip over his own legs if it means keeping Derek from leaving. His beer nearly tips over and Tate's caught between his seat and the table, eyes wide and still a misted black. In fact, more than ever does a sheen gather on his lower lashes, like it's going to push over at any second and trail down his cheeks.]
You can - you can be mad at me, you can yell at me or whatever you want.
['Even if I don't really get why'.]
Just don't go? I need - I need your help, and you said you'd be here for me. You said you'd be here for me. You're gonna take that back just because - why? I signed with someone else? I had my reasons. You didn't even tell me when you signed with Stiles. You both lied to me about even knowing each other. You can't get mad at me for being fucking honest with you. Because I thought I could.
[The tears fall, and Tate almost seems startled when they drop against the table. He can't deal with another rejection, not so close to the last one. He can't lose another person because this time it'd just prove that he was never there in the first place.]
You're supposed to be my alpha and you - you won't even...
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[NOT UNTRUE]
but I do think I'll need ur muscle so not far off
no subject
You... hoping to get fucked?
[ he'll stop trying to guess. ]
What's up?
no subject
and I can't really go into it on here. can we meet up?
no subject
[ doggy style. obviously. it's in the name. whatever, let's move on. ]
Yeah, of course.
Where do you want to meet?
[ he's not thrilled about going back to hotel falsity, but he'll go if tate wants him there, he guesses. ]
no subject
like the guy showed on the network, it seems clean
i'm already here, too.
no subject
he runs his hand over his chin, trying to decide on whether or not it's worth it to say yes or if he should just drag tate back to the den, but ultimately, he left the ball in tate's court. he throws on a shirt and heads to the bathroom to rinse his face, typing to tate with one hand. ]
Okay. Meet me the lobby, or something.
I'll be there as soon as possible.
no subject
[And that's that. Tate will be in the lobby waiting, in a semi-new outfit that carries with it the scent of at least one other person. Notably Kavinsky, though a little bit of Peter might've rubbed off on his clothes too, from when he spent time with him in one of the suites overhead. His sleeves are pulled down low, covering some marks on his wrists, and he chews on his nail absently while waiting for Derek.
Aside from a few other bruises, some spilt across his neck beneath his collar, Tate looks in generally good shape. A little more content and balanced out, well fed and with the exception of a pensive look currently on his face - he seems happy overall. He tips his head when he catches a glimpse of Derek, nodding upward in greeting.]
Hey. You wanna get a drink at the bar or chat upstairs?
no subject
He's used to the smell of sex permeating the air in Duplicity, but when he meets up with Tate and catches the scent of multiple people on his outfit, he does his best not to comment. ]
Could've showered before we met up.
[ His best isn't as good as it could be, apparently. Still, Tate looks happy, and Derek's not going to rain on that, in spite of his bad mood. He tucks his hands a little deeper into his pockets and lightly shakes his head. ]
I don't care. You're the one who wants to talk. I'll go wherever feels safest for you.
no subject
What's that supposed to mean?
[Better off leaving it rhetorical but if Derek wants to answer, Tate'll roll his eyes. Just because he thinks it might annoy Derek back, he nods toward the lobby pub with all intents of having a drink or two now. He'll even start heading over, walking ahead a few strides - though he looks down discreetly at himself as if still hung up on the scent comment. What can he smell? Who can he smell?]
Whatever. C'mon.
no subject
He takes a few steps ahead of Tate just so he can guide them to the corner of the bar, where it's darker and more narrow and there's less of a chance people will try to come over and talk to them. After getting their drinks, he grabs a table rather than heading up to the bar itself, sliding into the most shaded seat and sighing through his nose once he settles. Tate joins him, and Derek doesn't really want to lead conversation, but he taps his fingernails against the glass beer bottle he has in his hands, making an attempt at it anyway. ]
You said you needed help.
no subject
Yeah. After - Fort Harmony, shit here... just seems like it's back to normal, y'know? Nobody's getting any foothold in doing anything against the norm. But I want to. Or at least to find a way to get to know people who can come together if we're ever sent to Fuckaway Camp again and do something other than sit on our hands.
[It's - hard, because this is the only time he'll admit to Derek that at seventeen, he doesn't have it all together. Doesn't know how to do the networking, the resources, doesn't know how to put it all together without some help. But he's stubborn and that's the glue that's worked so far.]
I wanna do something like Autonomy, but run by people we know. But not just as a club, but to use that as a safe zone for talking about actual shit. Does that make sense?
no subject
He lifts his head. He looks at Tate for a second or two, thoughtful, and then nods, obligingly. ]
It does.
[ That's - the only response Derek is offering, but it's cordial and alert. Attentive. He's looking at Tate differently now; he's not bristling and stubborn and annoyed about being called back to the hotel, he's focused and interested in what Tate has to say. He's quietly pressing him for more information, more ideas. More anything. ]
no subject
[Tate frowns, trying to think the next step ahead - all of this has rattled around in his head and he wants to get it out. Feeling like the people he thought were core members of resisting things were starting to fall for the pitfalls of this place, it's good to know he still has some people who are - thinking ahead. He rubs at his face and uses his hands while he talks, something that indicates Tate's far into his own head and enthusiastic.]
I don't - I don't know how to do it but it feels like it's possible? To just, start scouting locations. Set up the parties, maybe, as surface level infractions to cover for whatever plans we have underneath. Does the Autonomy rip make sense? Or should they just be - wild ragers, like the one Kav hosted? I don't know if I'm going too deep, y'know?
[Hand. Gesture.]
I just want to rotate things around. Keep it all moving and find some fucking way of stopping this place before we have to deal with any more bullshit. This hotel existing as a neutral zone - that means that there's more out there, right? Cities that don't follow this d/s rule? Even still, whoever owns this place has the power to flip people's designations. That's - that's fucked up? Just to do it on a whim. It's like we're... somebody's mice in a maze.
[He's starting to get emotional. Wound up. His teeth clenched.]
I don't like it.
no subject
Still - now's not the time for that. He scratches at the label of his beer bottle, peeling it off with his nail while he focuses on what matters here, staring at the condensation on the glass until he calms down a little. Tate's got some decent plans laid out, though Derek sees their flaws. He doesn't want to discourage him from this, because this is the energy they need to take to Duplicity if they want their independence, but. Carefully, he starts to speak, staring at his hands, still clasped around his drink. ]
People were executed at Fort Harmony for not showing enough obedience to LIES. I don't think making a second Autonomy will work. You'd just be broadcasting your intentions. Painting a target on your back. We'd need a cover so we can resist in secret until we have an actionable plan to follow through with.
[ He's not comfortable with those covers being wild ragers, and only partially because he thinks Tate would take every opportunity to get high, but. It's a better idea than acting like Autonomy, he guesses. ... Aaalso - ]
Don't buy into this hotel being "neutral". It's a deathtrap. It's already fucked with my consent once, and there's nothing to say the owner won't punish people for stepping outside their roles, even after inviting them to. Feels like more of a maze to me than the rest of the city.
no subject
[Tate's voice is smaller for the moment, a mix of not being certain what pissed Derek off and then - trying to take what his reply is in stride. This place being a trap, well - he could see that. But at the same time, maybe he just wanted to believe that it was possible to have a shred of something else in this place. Is it just a test, after Fort Harmony, to see how many of them really stick to their roles here? But that guy said it's bug free...]
I don't know. What do you think we should do, then? As a cover? In the Fort we kept using playing cards as a code for meeting up to talk discreetly. Should we start playing poker here or something?
[Ragers though. #want]
Or like, try to really act like we're into it? Some sort of fetish party shit, just... for appearances.
no subject
Poker sounds - ultimately not very helpful, and Derek pulls a face in response. The fetish party could work, maybe, but there's a chance prying eyes would wonder why they formed their own roaming group to engage in SM when there are so many options to explore that kind of kink readily available in the city. No matter what plan they come up with, Derek's going to be pessimistic and find a flaw in it, so. He'll... try to curb that. ]
We can think of a cover later. You should focus on who you would bring into this, and on coming up with plans of attack in case we do need to defend ourselves.
[ A pause. Derek looks up from his hands, meets Tate's eyes. ]
Setting something up like this could be dangerous. Are you sure you're okay with that?
no subject
[He answers quick, and honest. His life as a sub at the bottom of the food chain is only one resent-oriented fueling source behind this but the overall unfairness - the desire to do better and have a mark? That fuels him too. He likes to think at least something about this is selfless in origin, but he struggles to really identify what. Especially when Derek mentions bringing people into the circle and he... drops his gaze to the table, evidently troubled.]
I thought I knew some people, at least - a person. But... she got designation swapped. She says she's still going to help try and do something, but she didn't even wanna really question why she got promoted. She was - one of the most resistant subs around and they promoted her to a dom. It's like they just... wanted to take her out of the workings, y'know?
[He's troubled about this - consider it his flawed fear of abandonment, but he can't help but still struggle to deal with her attitude toward it. Especially when she accused him of being jealous, rather than picking up on what he was trying to tell her. He wonders if he should've worded it different. But - how?]
Maybe the hotel's not - not as safe as I thought, yeah. If they can do that kinda shit just on a whim.
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She sounds like an idiot. At the very least, a liability.
[ He wasn't around when Stiles was a dom, but Derek saw the Down before he even saw the inside of his provided housing. It was disgusting, turning his back on the smooth, polished luxury the Up provided for him and walking barefoot into the dust and the grime of Stiles' new home. There's a cruelty in being dropped from Dom to Sub. The change can't be as difficult to adjust to the other way around, and Derek's quick to assume that Tate's friend is just a lazy moron who would rather enjoy the comfort of the Up than do anything to get her hands dirty. Not the kind of person worth inviting to a super secret rebellion party club.
Derek shakes his head. Doesn't matter. Tate's clothes still smell like sex, and if Tate got laid because of the hotel's influence, it shouldn't have taken a designation switch for him to realize this place is as demanding and selfish as the rest of Duplicity. Given that Derek's been in a similar boat, it takes... a lot of willpower not to throw stones in a glass house, here. ]
Look - I'm paranoid enough for the both of us. Don't worry about how dangerous the hotel is, just - focus on your plan. It's a good plan.
[ Derek tags a sip of his beer, shifting forward in his seat. ]
I'm pretty proud of you, actually. It's brave, to take initiative like this. I'm impressed.
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[So it's enough for Tate to want to take a step back from those card games, from her in general, not to risk being entangled if they do have some sort of zoomed in lens following her now. And maybe he is still a bit offended of how she talked down about the world some subs still live in, just out of context. He figures he has to do his own shit now, lest he be sitting on his ass.
He exhales hard.]
Anyway. I thought you- since you're a dom, you could help. I have... access to some stuff, too, but the... more doms the better.
[Hey look at this condensation ring on the table, it's so fucking fascinating. Tate rubs his fingers around it, struggling for a second before his eyelashes flutter and he dares to look up. Why this suddenly feels like a big thing, something that makes him want to throw up, he's not sure. He can feel his heart in his chest and he knows Derek can feel it too.
He hopes he doesn't take back his feelings on being impressed now.]
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But he doesn't get the chance to comment on that. Tate keeps talking, and it takes Derek a second or two to realize what he's trying to say, unable to think when that same angry itchiness is closing in on him again. It's the full moon, tonight. He always gets in a bad mood before the full moon.
There's a spark in his head - the more doms the better - and his eyes drop to Tate's chest, obviously zeroing in on his heartbeat. He looks back up, meets Tate's eyes, and just... gets it. ]
You're contracted?
[ He gave Tate until today to decide. Derek wasn't going to bring it up - figured if Tate wanted to talk about the bite, he'd do it after he finished asking for help. He tries to keep his face neutral, but this is one of those few occasions where he fails to keep up appearances. ]
To who? When?
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[He doesn't know how much of an excuse that is when he's had a lot of it, and when he's been talking about trying to fight the system - he gave into it. He could blame Stiles for telling him bad things happen to those who wait, or maybe it was just the fresh and hot faced rejection from Violet that made him need someone else to say yes. And they did. He avoids looking at Derek for a moment, suddenly parched and in need of a few sips of his beer.
Then he licks his lips, eyes skittish when they glance upward.]
Kavinsky.
[Tate steels for the response he expects - that tired, frustrated look that Ben used to give him. The fury and disappointment he grew up with. The abandonment that's haunted him alongside rejection all of his life and death. He steels himself for it, eyes already misted, because he can feel it on the air. He did the wrong thing, in Derek's eyes, but it was the only choice Tate could make. That Tate wanted to make.
Pleasedon'tleavepleasedon'tleavepleasedon'tleave.]
I couldn't ask you. I didn't have other options, not after...
[He sniffs. Yeah, he's close to crying.]
After Violet.
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But then Tate keeps talking. ]
The guy who-- wait, hold on.
[ Tate's tears don't actually mean much right now. Not when Derek's confused and trying to make sense of the situation. Derek holds up a hand like he's telling Tate to be quiet, eyebrows furrowed and eyes a little angry. He's not tired, not frustrated, not angry. Not disappointed. Not at first.
It builds slow. ]
Is that - are you serious?
[ Derek pauses, like he's waiting for Tate to say that this is just-- a joke, or something, and when that doesn't happen, he barks out a laugh, feeling this cold, angry heat run down his neck. He moves closer to the table, points at Tate with the hand he'd held up. ]
You were out of your fucking head because of the shit that went down at that guy's party. You nearly died. You probably did die. He was the host, he should have-- did he even know you were ODing? Did he get you that high in the first place?
[ Derek's voice is - getting a little louder. ]
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Tate signed with him anyway.
He took to signing with the guy who shoulder checked him into a wall, took advantage of him while he was - whatever he was - and, well, rivals Derek in just how possessive he is of Tate. Only he's more property to Kavinsky than he is family to Derek, and maybe that's why Tate had hoped to keep these channels separate. But they had to collide at some point. He just thought he had more control over how.]
I did that to myself. He just - supplied.
[Not a lie, really, because Tate did know he was pushing it. But he still frowns, thinking maybe that's not enough. But it's too late because in the end? Tate still signed with the guy.]
He's not some freak, okay? He and I are a lot alike.
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I'm not calling him a freak, I'm calling him irresponsible.
[ Derek offered Tate a home, he offered him safety, and rather than reach out and take it, Tate - what - ran to the guy who can keep him high, maybe fuck him in the way that Derek keeps denying him? Tate had to realize Derek wouldn't be okay with this. He was so fucking worried, that night. Tate had to have known that.
Tate's kind of an asshole. Tate's just-- using him, that's what this feels like. He keeps acting like he's this hurt, sad little boy who needs help, while all the while, he feeds his bad habits and sinks further into shitty relationships, ignoring Derek's advice and attempts to help him. He calls on Derek when he wants something from him, and that's - suddenly, it feels like that's all Tate wants him for. This relationship feels a whole lot less real, suddenly. A whole lot less like it matters what Derek thinks or feels or wants. Derek said he wanted to take care of Tate, sure, but he didn't want their relationship to feel this one-sided.
He's not dealing with this. Fuck this. Tate has to know how worried Derek was that night, he has to know what the offer for the bite meant. Derek leaves his beer where it is, still mostly full, and stands up, shaking his head. Can't do this. ]
I'm out of here.
[ He's just - going to yell right now, if he stays. ]
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[Tate's panic is immediate and he puts his palms to the table, standing up too quickly himself - ready to trip over his own legs if it means keeping Derek from leaving. His beer nearly tips over and Tate's caught between his seat and the table, eyes wide and still a misted black. In fact, more than ever does a sheen gather on his lower lashes, like it's going to push over at any second and trail down his cheeks.]
You can - you can be mad at me, you can yell at me or whatever you want.
['Even if I don't really get why'.]
Just don't go? I need - I need your help, and you said you'd be here for me. You said you'd be here for me. You're gonna take that back just because - why? I signed with someone else? I had my reasons. You didn't even tell me when you signed with Stiles. You both lied to me about even knowing each other. You can't get mad at me for being fucking honest with you. Because I thought I could.
[The tears fall, and Tate almost seems startled when they drop against the table. He can't deal with another rejection, not so close to the last one. He can't lose another person because this time it'd just prove that he was never there in the first place.]
You're supposed to be my alpha and you - you won't even...
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