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[Tate, until he notices Derek, just looks peaceful in how he's standing on the beach. He's got his jeans rolled up his calves and bare feet in the sand, his striped henley's sleeves rolled to his elbows and his hair a bouncy mess made worse by the water. His face and arms are slightly pink because a kid as pale as him doesn't necessarily tan well.

After he does notice Derek, however, he grins - watching Derek slide down the dunes looking a little more lively when he arrives. Like he too is looking forward to their friendship being back on track, and in seeing whatever it is Derek wants to show him. There's a blanket on the beach and a book, next to his sneakers.]

Let me get my shoes back on and I'll be ready. You really haven't looked around? I was hoping to find some cool caves.

[ Ugh, don't talk to him about caves. Derek pulls a face, but it does nothing to detract from how obviously light he feels about being out here. Seeing Tate is just - energizing. It's clear, from the way Derek looks at him, that he's just incredibly, incredibly happy to be around him.

He might have worried about Tate being manipulative, at one point, or selfish, or even kind of cruel - but that was just heat of the moment bullshit, it didn't mean anything. He regrets seeing those things in Tate, who he once promised to trust, and who promised to trust him in turn. Tate said he fucking needs him. Derek was an asshole for wavering on that the way they did. ]

We can go searching, if you want. Got the whole day ahead of us. My thing can wait.

No, no. I'm shit with surprises, I wanna see your thing.

[He pauses, lips screwing up in a small smile because of how that was phrased. Then he rolls his eyes in an exaggerated manner, while wiggling his feet into his shoes and tying the laces. You know what he meant, freakshow. He starts on his other shoe and like a kid who's too eager to go to the park, he's hasty with how he ties it. Misses the loop, starts over with a grunt.]

Is it a big thing? Little thing? Girthy thing?

Edited 2019-04-24 02:37 (UTC)

[ This feels like what he's used to - dirty jokes, playful banter. Fuck, Derek's actually half-tempted to play along, for once. There'd been a bit of a weight on his shoulders leading up to today, thus the nervous anticipation he had all morning, but. He feels kind of great, right now? Better than great. He got his motherfucking friend back. He got his motherfucking family back. ]

Big. Girthy. You can see that too, if you want. If you're good.

[ Which, you know, he won't be. It's Tate. Derek waits for him to finish getting his shoes back on, and when he's done, he nods in the opposite direction, walking backwards towards the woods so he can keep an eye on Tate as they go. ]

Heads up: gonna get emotional by the time we're done here. Hope you're ready.

[Tate wraps his blanket up around his book quickly, tucking it into a hollow log he happened to find and crash next to. Hopefully the weather around here stays the same indefinitely, and doesn't do his shit any harm. Then he's up on his feet, fixing his sleeve as he moves to follow Derek. He likes the banter, it feels natural again - and unlike before, Tate doesn't feel like he's walking on eggshells. He can... indulge in this.]

Ugh, I knew you were into pillow talk.

[He laughs, reaching to shove Derek on the arm as they walk - hoping the brick wall of a guy might not be on the most even footing so it takes some kind of root. He's still playful, grin plastered on his face.]

[ Tate shoves him and it's... annoyingly effective, because all the super secret werewolf senses in the world won't stop you from eating shit when you're stumbling backwards. He digs in his heels to stop from falling, but that doesn't work on sand - he stumbles back and just barely, barely manages to get a hold of himself before falling. He just - slows down and walks beside Tate, moving forward, like a normal person. ]

Dick. [ jeez. anyway. ]

We're just going into the woods, so. Stick close. Could be wolves in there.

[ there aren't wolves in there. ]

[Tate almost murmurs exactly to Derek's declaration of dick but doesn't. He just laughs, feeling energized from their faux-bickering and the endorphins that come from just... hanging out with him. He cares about Tate, wants to spend time with him. Tate likes that. He likes that so fucking much, he can't drop the stupid smile off his lips even if he wanted to.

He will just roll his eyes at wolf-talk, though.]

I'm so scared.

[But he wipes a bit of sand off his wrist as they walk, finding an immeasurable amount in his shoes but deciding not to deal with that right now. He just steals looks sidelong at Derek, not glancing away if he notices. In fact, he just quirks his brows if he does, as if stating yeah, I'm looking at you, what'a ya gonna do about it?]

Tell me you have a cool treehouse out here and you can have my panties, 'cause that'd be cool.

[ Derek notices Tate looking at him. Of course he does, he's fucking - looking at him just as much, he can't not look at him. It's such a relief to see him standing here, solid and heavy and real. To know that all that bullshit between them was just - temporary, a pitstop on the way to something better. ]

Doubt I'd need a treehouse to get your panties. Pretty sure all I'd have to do is ask for them.

[ They still need to talk about Tate's plan. Sooner rather than later. Maybe not today, though, unless it's what Tate wants. Derek just keeps focusing on walking, hitting the far edge of the woods, kicking up some sand as he jogs up a little hill that leads to the outer rim of trees. ]

But no. Nothing like that. Just - yeah. You'll see. C'mon.

Shit, and I was just about to tear them off for you.

[Tate laughs - notably less sharp with the edges between what jokes he does and doesn't let roll off his shoulders with regards to his now flourishing sexuality. There's still some discovering to do, but he trusts Derek. Doesn't need to back away from plain facts - especially when they both know it's just for fun. Derek's got Stiles, and Tate... well, right now everything is fucking complicated for Tate.

Maybe he is something of a whore. Huh.]

Lame, no tree house? I'm going home.

[Much rather, he's right up behind Derek, slipping only a little on the hill but catching himself in his next stride. He likes the outdoors, and maybe not just because he can finally enjoy them again. He's always liked the freedom of the outside world, where things can constantly change but also... stay anchored and the same.]

[ Derek falls into a quiet for a few minutes that's not entirely uncharacteristic for him, but - still feels a little off, given how active he's been in the conversation. He just walks into the woods, deeper and deeper, and it's hard to know what he's thinking, until he finally speaks up again. ]

I can build you one. If you're serious. Might not be the prettiest thing in the world, but - you wouldn't technically be living with me if you slept there, so I don't think it'd break any rules.

[ They get to a point in the woods where there's not a lot of light filtering through the canopy, and this is where he wants to be, apparently. He stops walking, turns on his heel, gets a better look at Tate. ]

Just... you know. It'd - just be for us.

[ Just Derek, just Tate. Maybe Stiles, if Tate wants to invite him in. It's unspoken, but clear - Tate couldn't invite anyone over, just like he can't invite anyone to the beach. ]

[Tate follows Derek to the point where he pauses, and looks at his face again as if to read whether or not he means it - and it seems he does. He can't help the little jump of elation in his chest at the idea. He's always wanted a tree house, from the days of being little and having to make due with cardboard and Addie's crayons. He smiles, even though he doesn't mean to, evidently overjoyed. But then he realizes maybe that's not the reaction a seventeen year old should be having, and it fades. Briefly.]

I'd - yeah, that'd be cool. I can help, too. It can just be our project? Something to do together, out here. That works too, right?

Edited (idk why i did that) 2019-04-24 03:40 (UTC)

[ Before Tate sheepishly wipes away his smile in an attempt to look grown up, or something, Derek looks overjoyed, too. Again, it's obvious that he's just - so, so happy to see that Tate's happy, too. Overjoyed by the fact that this is working out, and that they're together, and that he gets to talk to Tate like normal, again. He's relieved that this treehouse idea actually went over okay, too, and he's gonna double down. Gonna make the best fucking tree house in the world. ]

I'd love that. That'd be... yeah. Yeah, I'd really love that.

[ He scratches the back of his neck, still smiling, his joy only fading away into something more neutral when the entire moment's passed. He just looks warm, though, like a low-burning candle. He's - really happy. He's glad this is working out. Fuck, he can't wait 'til July. ]

But, uh - okay, just... sit down, or something. I don't really know how to start this.

[Tate's smile still lingers, soft in the corners of his mouth as he does as instructed. Easier said than done, but he crunches over a few twigs and finds another toppled over tree trunk to tentatively sit down on - taking this as the moment to loosen his laces and empty out that extra sand. He gives his shoe a shake before putting it back on and slowly doing the same to the other foot.

His smile fades a little, a whisper of what it was and in a moment's time it's gone completely. Derek's got his full attention - though his brows pinch together because now he's not sure what to expect. Was Derek being serious about the emotional impact? He's listening, pale lashes blinking as he surveys Derek's figure.]

I'm... listening.

[ Alright, maybe asking someone to sit in the fucking woods was a bad idea. First mistake. Derek looks guilty. ]

So - okay.

[ Second mistake - standing over Tate feels kind of shitty, so he drops to his knees to sit in front of him. He's really not sure how to approach this, so after drumming on his thighs, he just. Talks. ]

I grew up in the woods. Woods just like these. They were important to me. It's where I spent most of my time with my sisters, before they died. It's where I would go when I was angry, or upset, or when I needed to run until I passed out. It's where I had my first kiss. I loved those woods.

[ He won't go into how important they were, exactly, but. Suffice to say, they kept him calm, back before anger kept him calm instead. Before he had Stiles. ]

I got the impression - I mean, maybe I'm wrong - but it felt like you thought... training wasn't helping you. Teaching you to control yourself like a werewolf or - exist as my beta, instead of just as my friend - that wasn't helping you? You don't want blood as your anchor, and maybe I was... forcing that on you. I don't...

[ He doesn't know. He scratches the back of his neck again, then keeps his fists against his thighs. ]

So - I'm not - I'm not taking the bite off the table. If you want it - we can still do that. Later, when we're signed, maybe, unless you want it sooner. But. [ a pause. ]

Just - all of that was to help you, but maybe in my eagerness to... show you how I lived, show you what it meant to be a wolf, I went too far. I still want to share that part of my life with you, but I don't want it to be - negative. I thought I could tell you about my family, and about my connection to the woods, because I still want to trust you with all of this, I just... don't want it... to suck. Or something. I want you to know about my life.

[ He wants Tate to know about him, because he's forcing him to trust him, and he can't afford to fuck up on that investment. But. Whatever. This all sounds really fucking stupid, now that he's laid it out there. ]

This is weird. Nevermind. We should go cave hunting.

[Tate listens and he gets it, sitting forward a bit and leaning to rest his elbows on his knees. He props up his chin on his linked fingers and looks at Derek, once again seeing him from this - upper angle and disliking but tolerating it for the sake of the moment. Derek has an affinity for the woods and that makes sense to Tate. And he talks about Tate's anchors, and... Tate sighs, lightly.

He leans back a little, looking at his hands and wringing them out as something to do while he contemplates his answer. It takes a moment before he looks back up at Derek, staring into his green eyes and finding a polarizing comfort in them - contrasted to the red, the complimentary hazel sedates and relaxes him.]

It's... It's not that it wasn't helping. It was.

[Tate liked it, at least.]

But I guess... I just don't want to hurt. To be the - the guy who has to think about blood or hurt himself to think straight. I'm tired of being the way I am and I want to fix it but I think part of that is... acknowledging that's how I am. Using it for now and... finding a better anchor when I'm in a better place.

[He hopes that makes sense; his brows pinch and he looks at Derek expectantly - he's trying to appease him still but he wants the reassurance as well. He doesn't like the way people talk about him, the way Derek and Stiles exchanged looks about him. Doesn't want to be the guy who inspires someone to step in front of their loved one to protect them but that is who he is.]

That works, right?

[ No, it - it makes sense. Derek looks at Tate with a certain softness on the edge of his expression, feeling his chest ache with a mix of guilt and shame. It takes a few false starts before he finds the right words to express how he's feeling. ]

I should've... known that. You basically told me as much.

[ Tate asked what you're supposed to do, if you don't like your anchor, and Derek had just said that anchors change with time. That's - kind of callous. He just told Tate to suck it up and deal with it, he let his eyes burn red as a shortcut to calm Tate down, he fucking - did a lot of fucking things, to this poor kid.

And he knows why he did it. Derek shifts on the grass, like he can't get comfortable. He picks at the ground with his fingernails, clenching his jaw until it hurts. ]

This is going to sound bad. I don't want you to take this the wrong way, or...

[ Derek looks up, catches Tate's eye. He looks back down again, digging further into the dirt. Tate drew spirals in the sand, back when they trained at the beach. Felt kind of like fate. ]

I... was really, really fixated on the idea of having you as my pack. I know that I could build a pack with anyone, but - it had to be you? I wanted to be as close to you as possible, and I was determined to get that, no matter what. I think... maybe I wanted you to be dependant on me, because then you'd... always... be there. With me.

[ As his pack, as his family, as his second chance. He's seen all of Tate's pain up close, and he just - wanted to be the one to save him, and he wanted to do better by him than he did to the others. He still wants that, he wants everything, but he's trying to play it down a bit, because he promised not to put any pressure on Tate. He's doing his absolute best. ]

I think that I thought if I could help you with your anger, in whatever way I could, you'd... start to need me. I should have known I was hurting you. I never wanted to trap you into being with me, but maybe - maybe that's what I was doing. Subconsciously.

[ The way that he did to Erica, and Boyd, and Isaac. He preyed on what they needed. He did the same to Tate. He remembers when Tate called him kind, and it makes him want to laugh, but he doesn't have the energy. ]

I don't know. I'm sorry. It was fucked up. I'm fucked up.

[Tate doesn't know where to look; Derek's hand moves against the ground and it snags his attention, watching his hand pick at the dirt and intermittently looking back up to his face. He doesn't know what to think either - and hopes he's not too obvious in this, with the way his heart feels like it skips a beat as it lodges itself up in his throat. Maybe it will seem like nervousness or uncertainty, rather than a puddling of warmth in his gut at the concept of being wanted by someone so viscerally.

If he didn't know about Stiles, about how much Derek cared about Stiles, he might see this moment as more. But that's why he's perplexed - is it more? Intimacy isn't always sexual, and he wonders if that's different for wolves. If they can be like that, be like this, giving off confusing vibes that he only knows how to read into in a human way.

'I wanted to be as close to you as possible, and I was determined to get that, no matter what.'

Tate swallows hard, wondering how many people can say that about him and really mean it. Kavinsky claims him as his own because he's signed to him - does he really care about Tate this deeply, or is he just a stand in for Ronan? Derek's proving more likely than not that he's truthful in how Tate's got a unique spot in his life. In a way nobody really has.]

I think I liked that, though.

[Being dependent. Relying on Derek, needing him. Tate looks down at his hands, twisting his fingers together. Picking at his nails and then slowly rotating the ring around his thumb in even, counter-clockwise turns.]

You do help me. And I do need you. But I think - I think, as long as you need me too? It's okay. Right?

Edited 2019-04-25 04:54 (UTC)

[ There's not a single, tiny part of Derek that reads Tate's skipped heartbeat as anything other than fear, or - maybe even disgust. Derek just admitted to being kind of selfish and manipulative, and there's no way Tate could come away from that without feeling something negative towards him. Derek rubs his bicep with his opposite hand, getting dirt on his sleeve without really thinking.

He's surprised, then, by Tate - staying. It makes his own chest feel tight, too. None of the others ever stayed. Nobody's ever stayed, other than Stiles. ]

I don't know. Maybe.

[ It'd be nice, if that were true, but - no. Derek cautiously shakes his head, looking ashamed himself for even entertaining the idea. Needing Tate and trying to keep Tate to himself led to that stupid fucking outburst he had in the hotel, and even though he wants him - Christ, he wants him, it's the most obvious thing in the world, he's fucking radiating that energy - he can't be that selfish again. Not if this is going to last, and certainly not if Tate's going to sign with him come July. He can't go into that contract being so... needy. ]

I don't think so. Most important thing is that you're happy. Safe. Doesn't matter if you need me or not.

[ Can't be controlling. Can't be demanding. That gets Erica killed. Tortured and locked away underground for an entire summer. That makes Isaac leave. Boyd's the only one who survived that part of him, and he didn't survive for long. ]

Well I do. Need you. So...

[It's an attempt at being reassuring, an admittance of - whatever this feeling is that he is trying to process. He smiles weakly, looking at Derek and feeling uncertain about what to do next. He wants to reach out and touch him but it doesn't feel right; it feels like it's what he wants but the situation, their situation doesn't call for it. So he keeps his hands to himself.]

I'd like it if you need me too, but - either way. I like being around you. I want to be around you. Working on the... the treehouse together can be something we can do. We can do other things, too. Whatever you want. Whatever you need.

I - do. I just.

[ He doesn't want... to fuck up again. ]

I need us to be okay. More than anything. And we are. So.

[ So. He's good. He wants to work on that treehouse with Tate, too. He might get get impatient and finish it up as soon as possible, because having a physical, tangible way to show that he cares about Tate and wants to give him everything he can is something he feels like he needs, at this point, but. They should work on it together, first, at least for a little bit.

Derek exhales. Okay. ]

Anyway, uh - I wanted to tell you some more about my sisters. If... you're cool with that.

Yeah, I'm cool with it. But like...

[He nods his head next to him, touching his fingers over the bark of the log he's sitting on. It's not the most comfortable thing but it feels better than asking Derek to stay low, squatting in the dirt. He doesn't like the imbalance, especially if they're trying to make this work on an even level.]

I want to hear about your family, all of it. Is that cool?

[ Man, that's - a hard ask. There were people in that fire Derek hasn't said the names of in years. Even Laura, who was always willing to reminisce on a happy memory of someone gone, wouldn't bring up the youngest kids taken by the fire. Derek's not sure if he'll be able to do it. ]

I'll - try.

[ And that's the most he can offer. Derek stands, unsure of himself, and sits apprehensively on the log besides Tate. It's creaky and feels like it can only barely support the weight of both of them, but even when Derek leans back and stretches out one leg to get more comfortable, it stays sturdy. ]

So, uh - I've told you... some things. Laura was my older sister. She took care of me after the fire, which - I've talked about that, too. We moved to New York, after everything. Tried to get as far away from the West Coast as we could, which was... my fault, I think. We had a ton of money, and I was scared of staying close to Kate, so.

[ So. He panicked, yelled at her, put her on blast, all while they were staying in a shitty motel the cops took them to until they could figure out what they wanted to do. They dumped Peter in a nursing home, and just - bailed. Because he was terrified Kate would find her, tell her that the Hale blood was on Derek's hands, and then finish the job. ]

She was great. Better than me. [ He tilts his head towards Tate. ] Sisters are always better than their brothers.

[Tate relaxes when Derek's next to him, offering him a crooked but mild smile - especially when he talks about sisters. Tate's gaze drifts away as if to ponder that, finding no real fault with the statement. He can so easily think of Addie and agree - she was the shining star between the two of them, and he still has no idea how his mother could always treat her as anything less than that.]

I can agree with that. They are.

[Rose - well, Rose had no screen time. So.]

... And after that?

[ poor rose. poor albino guy. ]

And then - six years of nothing. We had an apartment. Laura tried to live a normal life, but. Pretty sure I held her back from really committing. She worked, just to get out. She never talked to me about any friends she might have had. If she dated anyone, she didn't tell me.

[ Which was his fault. He was the quiet one, the one who was emotional, the one who never recovered. He was the one who made things hard for her by crying. Derek likes to blame Kate for burning so many of his emotions out of him, but the shame he feels over being a bad little brother to Laura might have hit just as hard. ]

Our entire family fucking died, you know? Eleven people, trapped in the basement of our home and burned to death. Chemical fires aren't pretty, they're - slow, and they're painful. Kate had resources, she'd been planning, she was-- she was methodical, and precise, and made absolutely certain that everyone in that house would die.

[ Derek pauses, gives himself a second. He exhales through his teeth, looking at his hands again when he talks. He picks out some dirt from underneath his fingernails, and his teeth feel too big for his mouth. ]

Peter didn't. My uncle. Went insane. Cora, my little sister? I told you about her, too. Stiles said... Stiles said she survived, and she went into hiding, down in South America. She waited, and waited, and waited to hear news of a surviving Hale, so she could come back, but.

[ Derek shrugs. He doesn't know a lot about this, because it's still a year or so into his future, but. ]

She found me. And I'm, you know. [ He gestures towards his face with one hand, lazy and demeaning, looking at Tate with tired neutrality. ] Not great. Didn't think I was worth the effort, apparently.

What do you mean?

[Tate's features pinch together almost immediately, looking defensive of Derek - not able to see how someone could not see what he is. Who he is. He's known Derek to be perhaps a bit cold on the exterior but when he hears about the history, you can only fathom how he isn't worse off than he is. He doesn't understand how someone can't see how much he cares. How his sister couldn't.

Maybe he's projecting, but - people should like Derek regardless of what he is. What he's done.]

Don't talk about yourself that way. You're - You're a good person. You see the good in people and you try to bring it out. I don't care what you've done, you've paid your price for it. Anyone who can't see that... I...

[He breathes out hard, evidently - emotional.]

I don't like that. They - It's not cool.

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