"Oh." Colin blinks. "Maybe like...being rude. That's something you want me to spank you for. But if you just make me angry, I can't spank you then, not just because I'm angry at you."
"Oh." He takes another pull from the hose and blows it out gently, thinking. It's an increasingly awkward conversation, and part of him wants to pull back on it-- this isn't something normal people talk about, right?-- but then, he has done nothing but prove recently that he hasn't reached Normal yet.
"That makes sense," he says mildly, watching Colin as he follows this train of thought.
That look of discomfort gives Colin pause. Stepping back into their confessions, he tries to think of what he's afraid of.
I'm afraid he won't know the difference between this and abuse. I'm afraid he'll be abused in the future.
A deep breath.
"All right. Forget that. There's only going to be one rule: if anything I do makes you feel the way your mother made you feel, you use that word. You don't have to explain, you don't even have to understand why you feel that way. Deal?"
That seems simple enough. Benedict nods, smiling faintly-- the mere idea that Colin could remind him of his mother is... well, that's why he and Colin are close in the first place.
Something eases in Colin's chest, and he's not sure how to describe it. It's the kind of ease he feels around Athessa or Lexie, a security, yet a small, fluttering fear rises up in response. He scoots closer to cuddle with Bene, though their positions are very awkward. The cuddliness is partly a result of the elfroot, but that feeling is deeper. Something has changed, and it's been long in coming, a reversal of something that kept him from trusting--
Oh. It's trust.
It's why he got someone to come in to create a new wardrobe for Bene. It's why he was so determined to find something on the long-term effects of magebane. It's why he has made both himself and Bene uncomfortable by...not smothering, but something like it. He didn't trust Bene to manage his own affairs, get his own life on track, adapt to his new situation. He wasn't willing to stand back and watch him either sink or swim on his own power. He can't even think of a time other than now when Bene asked for his help.
"For thinking you needed me. You don't. I think I needed you more." Still oddly touchy-feely from the elfroot, he finds himself tracing the slope of Bene's shoulder with his fingers. "Now we don't need each other. I don't have to always be strong for you, you don't always have to...whatever it was. I think we can just be ourselves around each other and stop being afraid of all the things we talked about. Just...be friends. I won't interfere in any way you don't ask me for. You're more than capable of sorting things out for yourself, and asking for help when you need it. And not necessarily from me."
Benedict's smile broadens, and perhaps it's just the elfroot or the overall feeling of contentment that has sunk in, but he raises his hand to pat Colin gently on the face, much like Athessa would.
"You think too much," he muses fondly. Not that he himself doesn't think too much half the time, but it's not right now, and that's the judgment that matters.
That gets a huge grin and a fit of giggling that turns into chortling. Maybe he does need Benedict after all, to tell him when to quit worrying about this shit.
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"I'm being stupid again, aren't I?"
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"That makes sense," he says mildly, watching Colin as he follows this train of thought.
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I'm afraid he won't know the difference between this and abuse. I'm afraid he'll be abused in the future.
A deep breath.
"All right. Forget that. There's only going to be one rule: if anything I do makes you feel the way your mother made you feel, you use that word. You don't have to explain, you don't even have to understand why you feel that way. Deal?"
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"Deal."
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Oh. It's trust.
It's why he got someone to come in to create a new wardrobe for Bene. It's why he was so determined to find something on the long-term effects of magebane. It's why he has made both himself and Bene uncomfortable by...not smothering, but something like it. He didn't trust Bene to manage his own affairs, get his own life on track, adapt to his new situation. He wasn't willing to stand back and watch him either sink or swim on his own power. He can't even think of a time other than now when Bene asked for his help.
"I'm sorry," he whispers without giving context.
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"Mm?" He grunts pleasantly through the smoky haze, glancing Colin's way.
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"You think too much," he muses fondly. Not that he himself doesn't think too much half the time, but it's not right now, and that's the judgment that matters.
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