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[calloused]

▶ Derek Hale. Leave a message.

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[confiscated]

u think either of ur lovers are up for a good time then?
that’s what they are right? tate and reggie

[calloused]

[ another long, long pause. for a moment there, it looks like derek might not even reply. ]

No.

[ an answer to both questions, maybe. an answer to one and not the other. who knows. ]

What do you want?

[confiscated]

to talk about you now
since you're not being any fun

[calloused]

Fine. Talk to me, then.
Ask me something.

[confiscated]

what are you wearing

[calloused]

Not much.

[ he means that in a "nothing special" kind of way, not in a "basically naked" kind of way, but. doesn't seem to notice the slip up. anyway, his turn to ask something. ]

What's your name?

[confiscated]

u can call me whatever u want

i'm not wearing much either

[calloused]

Well done.

Going to have to call you something.
Give me a hint.

[confiscated]

you're really awful at this

[calloused]

I'm not exactly tripping over myself in the rush to jerk off with someone I don't know, trust or respect.
You're going to have to give me better motivation.

[confiscated]

let's play a game then
you ask a question, i answer
then i ask a question. rinse repeat.

i'll start us off with: where are you? I know where you're not but I wanna know where you ARE

[calloused]

I mean, that's what we were doing. You shot me down. Twice.

Home.
Living room.
What do you mean, you know where I'm not?

[confiscated]

you're not with reggie and you're not with tate

and I have a pretty good idea where the both of them are right now

[calloused]

[ ... awful brave, if that's you, kavinsky. derek goes quiet. ]

Okay.
Your turn.
Ask me something.

[confiscated]

you have anyone else you like to fuck around here?

[calloused]

I have options.

[ a pause. ]

And you?
Who do you like to fuck around here? Write me a list.

[confiscated]

i'm enjoying my time with you?

if this counts.

you really at home? you wouldn't lie to me, would you?

[calloused]

[ hm. ]

I would.
I'm not, though.
I'm at home.

You won't be able to get in.

[confiscated]

got into the treehouse pretty easily

guess we know what home you like more

[calloused]

[ pushed too far. derek's angry again. ]

Enough.
Tell me who you are.

[confiscated]

come find out

[calloused]

[ that was what he was planning to do. he's already at the door when tate messages him back, toeing on his sneakers and searching for his keys. a few seconds later and derek's out the door, house locked up behind him, walking straight through the woods towards the treehouse - it takes two minutes, maybe three for derek to get there, but he already has a sense of who this is before he reaches the front step up. no heartbeat, no signs of any breaking and entering... if there's nobody here but tate, he knows where his lead lies, and if there's nobody here at all, then someone's clearly fucking with him.

derek doesn't knock. he never does. he heads on it - same as always. ]

Tate.

[confiscated]

[Derek barges in and Tate's not sure what he was expecting this to come to or how this is about to unfold, but for a moment there's silence in response. Only Tate lifts his head from the loft and looks down, blond hair mussed and a pillow under his chin as he stares down at Derek from the bed. He's only in boxers and curls one bare arm under his pillow while working it a bit further under him, acting tired if just for effect.]

What?

[He rests his chin in the pillow, concealing a lazy smirk.]

[calloused]

[ even now - even now - the idea of distrusting tate, of thinking he's anything other than tired, just like he says he is, runs so against the grain of what's been hammered into him over the course of this relationship. tate is trustworthy, tate is kind, that's what derek's told himself. the alternative - all that time spent on him - is simply too horrible to consider. derek hesitates, like he doesn't know what to do. if tate doesn't know what he's talking about, then - he's not sure what his next step should be.

but he shakes it off. shakes off the hesitation, charges ahead, keeps on the one road he's following because it's the only road in front of him. derek isn't accusing tate of anything, but the tone is there in his voice as he folds his arms and stares at the bed, jaw tense. ]

That's all you're giving me? "What"?

[confiscated]

[Tate stares at Derek for a moment longer, brows raised and his hand combing back through his hair before he sluggishly sits up. The sheets are twisted around his legs but he works himself free, sitting right at the edge of the loft and letting one of his legs hang over. His phone is sitting next to him, still on their conversation, and he debates the merits of continuing to pretend there's nothing going on.

But if he does that and he gets found out, would that be worse?]

You gonna help me get off or what.