[The longer he holds on to his food the less he wants to eat it, but Tate isn't giving up on hope yet. He feels Derek's arm slope over him and it's heavy in a way that feels comforting, weighted against him and keeping him in place. He stares off into the corner of the room for a few seconds, before he rests his cheek against Derek's arm the way a comfort seeking dog might.
He's still so hung up on the loss of Violet that he doesn't know what to do - he's upset because he'll never see her again, he's lost his chance to win her back. But in there, deep below all that, there's a sense of relief that has yet to blossom. There's nobody here (little does he know,) that can reveal... the truth about him. No way to jeopardize what he was with Derek, what he's being offered. He'll turn to that soon with a sense of acknowledgement. Until then, he's just going to be brattily distressed.]
[ Stupid question. Derek's hand stops smoothing down Tate's arm just for a second, then picks right back up. He's trying pretty fucking hard to stay calm and secure and reliable, but there's a tentative softness in what he says. ]
I want you to stay here every night.
[ And he gets why he can't, just like he gets that there's the comfortable isolation he's found with Stiles that he doesn't want to lose - but he wants everything, he wants it all. He wants everyone important to him locked away under one roof, where it's safe. Where he can keep them safe. ]
Do you... want to tell me about Violet? Maybe talk about the things she likes, or - what you did on dates. We don't have to talk about her, but.
[It's somewhat comforting to be wanted like that, even if they both know it's not possible. Even if he wasn't contracted to Kavinsky, whose possessive feelings are almost as bold as Derek's... he'd still need to be Derek's sub to exist here. And even then, he's still touchy about invading on Derek and Stiles' space. The two of them are in love, so... naturally he wants to respect that. While also invasively placing himself into their lives. It's a matter of striking balances.
Tate tilts his head back a bit, looking up at the ceiling. There's not a lot to say about Violet that doesn't somehow... paint a different picture of him that maybe he's not about to share. But Derek knows enough that he picks at a few pieces in his head, thinking whether or not to share them.]
We only had one real date, but we hung out a lot. She skipped school and I hung around after my sessions, so we would go to the attic and play cards. Or checkers... or just sit together and listen to music. It was just... nice.
[ Not just because of what she was to Tate - a light in the dark after years of isolation - but because of the stability she provided. Checkers with Violet sounds like chess with Stiles. After lacking that level of stable, familiar warmth for as long as he did, Derek needs those little moments of peace to survive. Tate must have felt the same.
A part of him wants to bring up Paige, but - he doesn't. Won't. Of course he won't. ]
You said... it didn't work out because of... the way you are. The way you feel things.
[ And he doesn't quite prompt Tate to tell him what happened, exactly - but he at least... tries to leave the question out there, wordless as it is. Giving Tate the opportunity to talk about what happened towards the end without forcing him to if he doesn't want to. ]
[Sullen, that was the last kick to his appetite and he pulls away from Derek just a bit to reach out and slide the plate onto the coffee table with the untouched slice of pizza sitting on it. He then looks down at Derek's arm like he's thinking about whether or not to push it aside, fingers on his forearm before he settles back. It's easier at this angle, when he's not facing Derek directly. Not staring into his eyes or having them bore into him.]
She... She said that we shared a darkness in us? But at the end, she took back her feelings. She said I was that darkness. I still don't understand. I loved her. And she loved me, I know it.
[ Tate shifts, and Derek lets him go. He raises his arm a little so Tate can wiggle away from it, if he wants to, but he leans back against his chest and Derek feels an honest surge of relief, even if he does regret turning him off of his food. ]
She was just... young.
[ Derek bends his elbow back, brings his arm up, and slowly cards his fingers through Tate's hair. He plays with his curls a little, smoothing his nails gently across his scalp, just... being soothing. ]
From what you've told me about her - she was just a normal, human girl. She was naive. She didn't know how to give you what you needed, and...
[ And that sucks, because Tate deserves someone normal, but Tate deserves someone strong enough and smart enough to see that Tate needed help, not a back turned on him. Violet only left because - what, he yelled, sometimes? Cried? How fucking cruel of her, to see someone with trauma and mental illness and say that they're the darkness. ]
It wasn't your fault. All this shit you have to deal with - the darkness, the anger, the heartache - it's something you've been suffering through. None of it makes you a bad person, and... I'm sorry she didn't know how to be there for you the way you knew how to be there for her.
[Tate doesn't feel guilt toward leading Derek along this path of belief - he doesn't feel anything at all, really. He does feel comforted by his presence while he retells the story in his favor, though, breathing out slowly from a deep breath and letting his eyes close lazily when Derek's fingers slip into his hair. The reaction is subtle but instantaneous; he relaxes, soothed and almost heavy headed by the affectionate touch that his head dips forward somewhat before leaning into Derek's palm like a cat.
He could lay like this indefinitely. He could fall asleep like this.
Tate softly sighs, breath shuddering in a way that betrays those feelings and is hopeful for Derek not to stop. Fingers through his head reminds him of the days Nora would take to him, playing with his curls and treating him like the son she lost and the son she loved. It feels warm and nice in the wake of everything cold and wicked.]
I was there for her... I just? I don't know. I wish a lot of things had gone differently for me. Wish I knew someone like you back home.
[ If Derek could press a reset button on his life... fuck, he'd do it in a heartbeat. Wishes like the ones Tate is making now, they sound all too familiar. All Derek can do is nod, keep his voice at a soft, calming whisper, and stroke his fingers through Tate's hair. His back's starting to hurt, so he shifts, just a little, not enough to disturb Tate, just - aligning himself so he's more slouched, semi-laying down alongside him. ]
You have me here.
[ Which isn't the same, he knows it isn't the same, but - it's all that Derek can offer him. Safe harbor in the middle of all of Tate's storms. Love and acceptance and gravity, for as long as Tate lets Derek want him. For as long as Tate proves himself to be everything Derek believes him to be. ]
[He's quiet for a beat, feeling this wash of - nothing come over him again before he closes his eyes again and answers. He'd like to sleep like this, leaning up against Derek and feeling the warmth radiate off his chest. He'd like to feel his heartbeat like he's wanted to for so long - spending days alone in the house, now here, facing the suffering feeling of being alone reignited by losing Violet. The person who once loved him so much that they could get lost in one another's eyes, laying together like this for hours.
But he can't. He spends another moment laying there, still and calm, before his muscles twitch and stiffen. He sits up, slowly and sluggishly, lifting his hand to move Derek's hand aside so he can hunch forward and put one foot back on the ground. He turns to look over his shoulder, dark eyes subdued.]
I don't want to be in the way, though. I'll just rest for a bit and when the rain stops, I'll go home.
[ There's a few seconds, if that, where things are just... quiet. Peaceful. Derek feels like the kind of Alpha he should have been back home; capable of comforting the heartache in his betas, instead of pushing them and hurting them while fearing the fucking Alpha pack, or while trying to force Tate to use blood as an anchor. He feels good, and then - it's done. Tate moves away, breaking the connection, and Derek opens his eyes, unaware they'd even drifted shut.
"I'll go home".
Derek does look hurt. He tries not to, but - jesus, this keeps happening. Why does he have to keep asking Tate to stay? What more can he do to keep the two of them together? Is he the problem? Derek doesn't know how to be any more open and inviting with Tate than he already has been, and the harsh sting of rejection crawls under his skin and makes him feel pretty fucking put out. He takes his arm back, sits in the corner for a few seconds, and then just - stands, getting away from the couch. Tonight's not about him. Can't get all pathetic over this. Gotta get distance. ]
[Tate stays seated, even when Derek moves away. His feet are on the ground but now the dynamic's changed and he's looking up at him again, dark eyes widened slightly but just attentively. He doesn't say anything to that, choosing silence instead with a soft nod of his head before he twists a bit and curls up on the couch. Derek offered to take it but Tate's claiming it instead; curling up like a cat in clothes that aren't his size, feeling strange in them and stranger still in someone else's home.
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no subject
He's still so hung up on the loss of Violet that he doesn't know what to do - he's upset because he'll never see her again, he's lost his chance to win her back. But in there, deep below all that, there's a sense of relief that has yet to blossom. There's nobody here (little does he know,) that can reveal... the truth about him. No way to jeopardize what he was with Derek, what he's being offered. He'll turn to that soon with a sense of acknowledgement. Until then, he's just going to be brattily distressed.]
... I can really stay here tonight?
no subject
I want you to stay here every night.
[ And he gets why he can't, just like he gets that there's the comfortable isolation he's found with Stiles that he doesn't want to lose - but he wants everything, he wants it all. He wants everyone important to him locked away under one roof, where it's safe. Where he can keep them safe. ]
Do you... want to tell me about Violet? Maybe talk about the things she likes, or - what you did on dates. We don't have to talk about her, but.
no subject
Tate tilts his head back a bit, looking up at the ceiling. There's not a lot to say about Violet that doesn't somehow... paint a different picture of him that maybe he's not about to share. But Derek knows enough that he picks at a few pieces in his head, thinking whether or not to share them.]
We only had one real date, but we hung out a lot. She skipped school and I hung around after my sessions, so we would go to the attic and play cards. Or checkers... or just sit together and listen to music. It was just... nice.
no subject
[ Not just because of what she was to Tate - a light in the dark after years of isolation - but because of the stability she provided. Checkers with Violet sounds like chess with Stiles. After lacking that level of stable, familiar warmth for as long as he did, Derek needs those little moments of peace to survive. Tate must have felt the same.
A part of him wants to bring up Paige, but - he doesn't. Won't. Of course he won't. ]
You said... it didn't work out because of... the way you are. The way you feel things.
[ And he doesn't quite prompt Tate to tell him what happened, exactly - but he at least... tries to leave the question out there, wordless as it is. Giving Tate the opportunity to talk about what happened towards the end without forcing him to if he doesn't want to. ]
no subject
[Sullen, that was the last kick to his appetite and he pulls away from Derek just a bit to reach out and slide the plate onto the coffee table with the untouched slice of pizza sitting on it. He then looks down at Derek's arm like he's thinking about whether or not to push it aside, fingers on his forearm before he settles back. It's easier at this angle, when he's not facing Derek directly. Not staring into his eyes or having them bore into him.]
She... She said that we shared a darkness in us? But at the end, she took back her feelings. She said I was that darkness. I still don't understand. I loved her. And she loved me, I know it.
no subject
She was just... young.
[ Derek bends his elbow back, brings his arm up, and slowly cards his fingers through Tate's hair. He plays with his curls a little, smoothing his nails gently across his scalp, just... being soothing. ]
From what you've told me about her - she was just a normal, human girl. She was naive. She didn't know how to give you what you needed, and...
[ And that sucks, because Tate deserves someone normal, but Tate deserves someone strong enough and smart enough to see that Tate needed help, not a back turned on him. Violet only left because - what, he yelled, sometimes? Cried? How fucking cruel of her, to see someone with trauma and mental illness and say that they're the darkness. ]
It wasn't your fault. All this shit you have to deal with - the darkness, the anger, the heartache - it's something you've been suffering through. None of it makes you a bad person, and... I'm sorry she didn't know how to be there for you the way you knew how to be there for her.
no subject
He could lay like this indefinitely. He could fall asleep like this.
Tate softly sighs, breath shuddering in a way that betrays those feelings and is hopeful for Derek not to stop. Fingers through his head reminds him of the days Nora would take to him, playing with his curls and treating him like the son she lost and the son she loved. It feels warm and nice in the wake of everything cold and wicked.]
I was there for her... I just? I don't know. I wish a lot of things had gone differently for me. Wish I knew someone like you back home.
no subject
You have me here.
[ Which isn't the same, he knows it isn't the same, but - it's all that Derek can offer him. Safe harbor in the middle of all of Tate's storms. Love and acceptance and gravity, for as long as Tate lets Derek want him. For as long as Tate proves himself to be everything Derek believes him to be. ]
You wanna try and get some sleep?
no subject
[He's quiet for a beat, feeling this wash of - nothing come over him again before he closes his eyes again and answers. He'd like to sleep like this, leaning up against Derek and feeling the warmth radiate off his chest. He'd like to feel his heartbeat like he's wanted to for so long - spending days alone in the house, now here, facing the suffering feeling of being alone reignited by losing Violet. The person who once loved him so much that they could get lost in one another's eyes, laying together like this for hours.
But he can't. He spends another moment laying there, still and calm, before his muscles twitch and stiffen. He sits up, slowly and sluggishly, lifting his hand to move Derek's hand aside so he can hunch forward and put one foot back on the ground. He turns to look over his shoulder, dark eyes subdued.]
I don't want to be in the way, though. I'll just rest for a bit and when the rain stops, I'll go home.
no subject
"I'll go home".
Derek does look hurt. He tries not to, but - jesus, this keeps happening. Why does he have to keep asking Tate to stay? What more can he do to keep the two of them together? Is he the problem? Derek doesn't know how to be any more open and inviting with Tate than he already has been, and the harsh sting of rejection crawls under his skin and makes him feel pretty fucking put out. He takes his arm back, sits in the corner for a few seconds, and then just - stands, getting away from the couch. Tonight's not about him. Can't get all pathetic over this. Gotta get distance. ]
Okay. Not going to force you to stay.
no subject
He breathes in deep, letting it out slowly.]
Thanks.