After a jumble of “Yeah,” and “go ahead,” and “no, you first,” Sullivan threw himself on his sword.
“I’m sorry. You threw me with the spanking thing, and I might have some issues with that, and I took it out on you, and I’m sorry.”
“No, you didn’t. It’s fine. It’s none of my business, and I shouldn’t have—”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I was the one who started the whole conversation. It was my fault. I’m sorry.”
“I was the one who acted like a dick.”
“If I hadn’t brought up the spanking thing, none of this would’ve happened.”
Jesus, Tobias was uptight. No wonder his damn head was a mess. “You think you shouldn’t have brought it up?”
“I upset you.”
“Oh, my God.” Sullivan dropped his head back against the rest. Where was the guy who’d stood up to him so well a week ago, who’d argued and squared his shoulders and spoke his piece? That guy had been an asshole, but at least he’d been real. He wanted to get back to that.
In fact...he was going to get back to that. Tobias had to be able to say what he honestly felt, and yeah, he’d gotten pretty good at that when it was easy shit, but it wasn’t always going to be easy shit.
Sullivan took a deep breath. Being analytical about it hadn’t gotten them anywhere. Best to hit it head-on. “I’m mad at you.”
“That’s why I’m apologizing.”
“No, I mean I’m mad at you for apologizing.”
“That’s—How are you mad at me for apologizing?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“It takes two to argue.”
“Exactly. And you’re not arguing, you’re rolling over, and it’s not—it’s so damn polite I can’t see straight. I don’t like it.”
Tobias frowned at him. “You don’t like politeness? But it’s good to be kind.”
“Polite and kind are two different things. Kind is crucial. Polite is superficial. I mean, it’s great to say thank you and all, I’m not arguing that, but you not saying shit isn’t polite. It’s manipulative.”
Tobias sucked in a breath. “I am not manipulative.”
“No? So you’re not changing your behavior to get a particular response from the people around you, without ever once explaining what you’re doing or why?”
“You’re twisting it around.”
“You make it impossible for people to legitimately like you.”
“Because I’m a manipulative liar who—”
“No,” Sullivan interrupted, “because you don’t show them you. Of course people like this fake, polite, nice bullshit you dish out, because it’s easy, and it gives them what they want, but they’re not getting you. You do it on purpose so they’ll like you, but it’s disingenuous and manipulative and I don’t fucking like being lied to.”
Tobias jerked back as if he’d been struck, his cheeks flooding with color. He opened his mouth, froze, and finally said, “You’re right, I should’ve—”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, would you say what you’re fucking thinking?”
“I think you’re being an asshole!” Tobias shouted.
“Well, so do I!” Sullivan shouted back, and then laughed out loud at the shock on Tobias’s face. “Jesus, you make it hard to get an honest answer out of you. You’re not my slave, remember? I don’t want polite, doormat Tobias. I want the guy who blackmailed me and stood up to me and shoved me in my own hallway and, like, went after my dick with zero advance notice. That version of you isn’t very polite, but at least it’s honest. You can yell and call me out and say what you want, even if you think I’m not going to like it. That’s not going to drive me away. The only thing that’s guaranteed to drive me away is that manipulative, bland politeness you pull with everyone else.”
Tobias’s fingers plucked at the hem of his shorts, his face tipped away. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, this whole save-Tobias-from-himself plan you’ve got going, but it’s not that simple.”
“It was easier when I was just some guy you were screwing over, huh? Let’s practice. Tell me how it made you feel that I was a dick to you yesterday.” Sullivan reached out and took Tobias’s hand, and Tobias’s head snapped around so he could stare at their intertwined fingers. Sullivan could see the indecision on his face, the warring impulses to follow the same script he’d followed his whole life or to do as Sullivan was suggesting. It wasn’t unlike a scene, now that he thought about it. Setting up conditions that made it safe for a sub to come apart, and then helping them pick up the pieces afterward.
Still staring at their hands, Tobias muttered, “You really hurt my feelings.”
Sullivan’s heart turned over in his chest with something close to pride. It was both alarming and embarrassing, actually. “Good,” he murmured. “You’re doing good. Keep going.”
“It felt like you went right for one of my most vulnerable spots.”
“Yeah, that’s because that’s what I did. Keep going.”
“I wasn’t trying to make you mad yesterday. I was trying to ask for—ask for what I wanted.”
“I know. It’s all right that you did that. I should’ve listened. Explained.”
“It’s not easy to have someone spring something like that on you, though. I get why you were upset.”
“Whose side are you on?” Sullivan asked. “Stop helping me. And if I’m not okay, I should say that I need time to think, not say a bunch of dickish things.”
“Well, that’s true.” Tobias glanced up, his gaze searching Sullivan’s face, and whatever he saw there seemed to reassure him. “And I know you were frustrated and maybe you’re okay fighting the way we just did, but I don’t like it.”
“Sometimes yelling clears the air.”
Tobias visibly bolstered himself. “I—I—no. I really don’t like yelling. If one of us isn’t listening, we can try different things, but not yelling.”
Sullivan squeezed Tobias’s hand. “Fair enough. I promise. No yelling.”
“And I’m sorry about yesterday.”
Sullivan grumbled in exasperation, and Tobias’s jaw set. “I can be sorry
