[ as always, tate agreeing with derek - whether he means to or not - makes him backtrack, guilty and a little ashamed. it's one thing if he doesn't feel like celebrating, but he doesn't want tate to not feel like celebrating. ]
It matters. Sorry. I should've been more excited. More prepared. It's important to me that we commemorate you being here. Solid and growing and alive. I wouldn't be okay if I were stuck in this city without you. You're my friend. I don't have many of those. Even fewer that I trust. So. Big day. One that I want to spend together. Ask me for anything. I'll give it to you. Snake not included.
[ kinda unexpected, but also not really. you offer to do something nice for tate on his birthday, and he of course tries to get you to give him permanent access to your car. if derek didn't like him so much he'd be annoyed. ]
I wanted to do something nice for you today. Birthday favor. That kind of thing. Why do you want my car?
That's not true. You're right. I care about that. Don't hit anything. You can borrow the camaro. Sometimes. It's going to be more trouble than its worth, though. You're gonna regret this.
[ as per usual, derek gives no response to indicate he got tate's last message. he ends the conversation by locking his phone, leaving tate to come over on his own time.
after heading back into the living room, hands deep in the pockets of his jacket as he tugs it down from the inside, he thinks about doing something to make the den more-- festive, or whatever. like he said earlier, even though he's not in a particularly celebratory mood, he feels bad treating this like it's an ordinary day; unfortunately, he's not really the kind of person to have streamers and balloons laying around the house, so there's not much he can do besides stare up at the exposed beams of his living room ceiling and vaguely pretend like he's going to hang some fairy lights from them, or something.
in the end he doesn't do much, other than grab some of the good beer from the fridge, something he feels awkward about cracking into given how difficult it is for him to buy his own groceries as a sub. tate arrives and derek's wearing the same expression he always is, when he's tense. a slightly aggressive lineface, shoulders straight and eyebrows furrowed. he slides back the shutter to the house and doesn't even look at tate, when he arrives, only nodding his head over his shoulder in silent invitation. ]
[Tate takes more like ten minutes to get ready, swapping into cleaner clothes and a warmer fleece lined work shirt for the walk over to the Den from the treehouse. He's still in Converse and jeans though, so whatever snow he trudges through wets the hems and soaks into his dragging shoelaces on the way. When the door slides open he looks at Derek, then slips inside, rubbing his hands together to warm them before heading toward the living area's sofa to sit down.
It's then that he reaches for a beer, looking over the label before starting to crack it open. Then he flicks his gaze back to Derek, raising his brows as if he expects something more. But really, he's pretty at ease - slouching a bit in his seat to take a swig of beer.]
[ Given that it's Tate's birthday, Derek isn't going to comment on him tracking snow into the den - though there's still a pointed glance or two that betrays just how mildly annoyed he is. Tate takes the beer and Derek sips his own, pretending, again, that there's any point in drinking alcohol as a werewolf, and he shrugs one shoulder in response to Tate's question. ]
Asleep, knowing her.
[ Probably in the bedroom, still curled up in whatever ray of sun she can find. He's had that cat for a pretty long time now - he's had Stiles' cat for a pretty long time now, too - but he still feels pretty weird about it. He's not a cat person. Not a pet person in general. They're weird little exceptions. ]
... You want anything?
[ Food. Birthday stuff. He's also had Tate for a pretty long time, and he's still not great at birthdays. Socializing in general. ]
[That's what he always says, though. Tate's appetite is as elusive to him as the truth is his tongue, so it doesn't really count for much when he says it. He probably should eat, but he's not about to push for anything. Not when he can fill his belly with booze and get a better buzz that way, too. He takes another drink, licking his lip before giving another absent shrug.]
I don't know how to really celebrate this kind of thing. My mom would always make a dinner, but that was about it. I hated that, it felt more for her sake than anyone else's. I just want to hang out.
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[ a pause. ]
Stay the night.
I liked when we slept under the stars. Camping.
We don't have to do that. But.
[ ... ]
Bed gets cold.
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but yeah
i don't actually want anything for my birthday
it doesn't feel like it matters.
spending time with you is fine though
i'd like that
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It matters.
Sorry. I should've been more excited. More prepared.
It's important to me that we commemorate you being here. Solid and growing and alive.
I wouldn't be okay if I were stuck in this city without you.
You're my friend. I don't have many of those. Even fewer that I trust.
So.
Big day. One that I want to spend together.
Ask me for anything. I'll give it to you.
Snake not included.
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i think i am. but do i look any older, for real?
also: tarantula
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You feel a little more vibrant than Noah.
Must mean something.
Really don't want you having another dangerous animal under your care.
One's enough.
[ he's talking about himself. ]
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u did say anything.
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I wanted to do something nice for you today. Birthday favor. That kind of thing.
Why do you want my car?
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only person i know with a car besides u is kavinsky
so.
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I mean, maybe.
[ a pause. ]
Don't fuck anyone in it.
Or... use it on dates. Anything like that.
[ jealous. ]
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mind ur wording
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Stop.
[ it takes him a second to get what tate's implying. he follows up a second later. ]
Present company excluded.
By present company, I mean me.
No loopholes.
I'll know. So.
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i won't give u any reason to sniff the leather
i promise.
i also promise to try not to hit anything
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That's not true. You're right. I care about that.
Don't hit anything.
You can borrow the camaro. Sometimes.
It's going to be more trouble than its worth, though. You're gonna regret this.
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Maybe for your next birthday.
Though - at that point - I'd rather just get you your own car.
[ considering he lost his job when he became a sub, though, yeah, he doesn't expect that'll be an option any time soon. ]
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but yeah. let's hang
when do u want me by?
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Probably not gonna lend you my car.
Now.
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gimme five to get ready
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after heading back into the living room, hands deep in the pockets of his jacket as he tugs it down from the inside, he thinks about doing something to make the den more-- festive, or whatever. like he said earlier, even though he's not in a particularly celebratory mood, he feels bad treating this like it's an ordinary day; unfortunately, he's not really the kind of person to have streamers and balloons laying around the house, so there's not much he can do besides stare up at the exposed beams of his living room ceiling and vaguely pretend like he's going to hang some fairy lights from them, or something.
in the end he doesn't do much, other than grab some of the good beer from the fridge, something he feels awkward about cracking into given how difficult it is for him to buy his own groceries as a sub. tate arrives and derek's wearing the same expression he always is, when he's tense. a slightly aggressive lineface, shoulders straight and eyebrows furrowed. he slides back the shutter to the house and doesn't even look at tate, when he arrives, only nodding his head over his shoulder in silent invitation. ]
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It's then that he reaches for a beer, looking over the label before starting to crack it open. Then he flicks his gaze back to Derek, raising his brows as if he expects something more. But really, he's pretty at ease - slouching a bit in his seat to take a swig of beer.]
Where's the tripod?
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Asleep, knowing her.
[ Probably in the bedroom, still curled up in whatever ray of sun she can find. He's had that cat for a pretty long time now - he's had Stiles' cat for a pretty long time now, too - but he still feels pretty weird about it. He's not a cat person. Not a pet person in general. They're weird little exceptions. ]
... You want anything?
[ Food. Birthday stuff. He's also had Tate for a pretty long time, and he's still not great at birthdays. Socializing in general. ]
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[That's what he always says, though. Tate's appetite is as elusive to him as the truth is his tongue, so it doesn't really count for much when he says it. He probably should eat, but he's not about to push for anything. Not when he can fill his belly with booze and get a better buzz that way, too. He takes another drink, licking his lip before giving another absent shrug.]
I don't know how to really celebrate this kind of thing. My mom would always make a dinner, but that was about it. I hated that, it felt more for her sake than anyone else's. I just want to hang out.
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