[ "A good show, intense". Derek gets that. He'd heard about that from Tate, too; the way the music made him feel alive, energy thrumming through his core. Derek had almost made it to the concert, backing out as soon as they got there, scared off by the fire; he could feel the energy in the air, smell the crackle of something vibrant and burnt that didn't feel human.

As a werewolf, Derek's nothing but instinct; all chaotic impulses, constantly hungry for meat and flesh and blood and touch. He's primal, animalistic, all emotion and muscle, and he understands more than anyone how decisions can be made in the heat of the moment over... logic. Civility. Reggie's blaming what happened on the atmosphere, and Derek believes him.

Reggie stands and steps back so suddenly that for a moment Derek doesn't understand why, but when it clicks he grins, more genuine than it should be. He's not reading any attraction being directed his way from Reggie, but that doesn't stop him from briefly flirting with the idea of stepping forward again, cornering Reggie against the wall to see if he would squirm away or stand defiant. Reggie's gesturing at him to move away, though, and that kind of crawls under his skin, sufficiently distracted. He stays rooted to the spot, unnecessarily petty. Looks like you're gonna have to try the hard way.

That stab in the dark only has him folding his arms tight, pressing at his (already very stupidly huge) biceps to make them bigger. Tough guy. ]

So you were blitzed out of your gourd, in other words. [ Good. Fine. Great. But. This doesn't help him. ] What are you going to say to him the next time you're together?