Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
TOBIN
Once Tobin had made his mind up, he couldn’t wait to make it happen.
He felt immeasurably better. He felt lighter, and the knotty mess in his chest was gone.
He’d been a fool to fight this.
To deny himself.
He wanted this, and if he could ever be freaking honest with himself, he’d wanted it for a long time.
Not to be with Fray, exactly. But he’d wanted to be happy.
He’d wanted to find someone who would love him, who would put up with his insecurities, who would see his deflections and brusqueness for what they were.
He was absolutely petrified of putting himself out there and being rejected.
He was scared to death of loving someone and having them leave him, reject him, hurt him.
He was scared of feeling anything, which was why he chose not to.
Putting his walls up, drowning in denial, and being indifferent were the self-defence mechanisms he’d mastered years ago. He’d been so sure he’d fall in love and have it yanked away from him that he’d chosen a life of solitude.
Was it rational? No.
Was it stupid and selfish and self-deprecating? Yes.
Did he still think Fray was too good for him? Well, yes, of course. Because he was.
Did he think it was unfair of Fray to fall in love with him because they were bonded? Yes...
But Fray was already in love with him. Fray had loved him for years.
And maybe the undercurrent in the river of denial that Tobin had immersed himself in was strong enough for Tobin to believe he never knew Fray was in love with him.
Because Tobin could convince himself of anything.
His brain had worked against him almost every step of the way for his whole damn life, which was why he’d never really believed that Fray was into him.
Sure, he’d catch him looking, and yeah, sometimes he’d blush and laugh, but Fray was affectionate with everyone.
He’d laugh with everyone. He’d smile like sunshine itself owed him a favour. He was like that with everyone.
And Tobin’s no-good brain would tell him it was nothing.
That it couldn’t possibly be for him because he wasn’t worthy of someone so pure—
Fray stumbled in through the door and gasped, pressing his hand to his chest. “Ugh.”
“What’s wrong?” Tobin asked, concern flaring through him.
“I lost you there again,” he said, voice strained. He winced and inhaled deeply, but then his eyes went soft, searching Tobin’s. “What happened just now? What changed?”
By the gods.
This all-honesty, no-hiding thing was gonna take some getting used to. He wanted to be completely honest with Fray, but after years of deflecting, of pretending, it wasn’t going be easy.
“I, uh.... I just get in my head sometimes,” Tobin said.
Fray hedged a smile. “Just sometimes?”
Tobin chuckled. “Okay, so, maybe all the time. I’m gonna try and be honest with you, Fray. I promise I will. But I’m so used to being on my own and not telling anyone what’s going on or how things make me feel. My brain keeps telling me I’m not...”
He didn’t want to say this out loud. It felt wrong to admit such misgivings. Almost like he was betraying himself.
“Your brain tells you you’re not what?”
He searched Fray’s eyes, such an earnest blue, wide and full of nothing but concern. He could feel his concern, his unwavering support and care, and by the gods, Tobin wanted this. “Worth it.”
Fray’s breath caught, his face now a mask of sadness, and oh, how Tobin hated to see it. He tried to pull away because this—this right fucking here—was why he wasn’t worth it. He was already making Fray sad...
“Hey,” Fray snapped, grabbing Tobin’s wrist. He drew Tobin in close, his eyes narrowed and fierce. But then he put his hand to Tobin’s cheek. “Hey. You’re worth it. You’re worth everything to me. You’re so fucking worth it, do you hear me?”
Tobin tried to look away, but Fray wasn’t having it. He took Tobin’s chin and made him look him in the eye. “I will prove it,” Fray whispered. “I will help you see yourself the way I see you.”
Tobin had to swallow down the lump in his throat. “I, uh.... I will try. I’m sorry—”
“Don’t apologise,” he said gently. Then he slid his hand to Tobin’s neck, his palm against Tobin’s pulse point. “Can I ask you a question?”
Tobin was pretty sure he didn’t want to hear this, but he nodded.
“What happened to you?” There was nothing but concern in his eyes, in his touch. “Before you came here? We were young, all just a group of misfits, really. You came with Kellan, right?”
Tobin gave a nod, his eyes closing. He hadn’t recounted this part of his past for years, keeping it tucked away in a pocket of a coat he refused to wear again.
Until now. “I was... I was on my own. I was cast out of my family. I was very young. Kellan found me. I guess he felt sorry for me. Told me he was from a safe place. A special place.”
“Tenebrae.”
Tobin nodded. “I had only morphed a time or two. Being in freeform was so much easier and less risky. I wasn’t used to my human body so much.”
Fray frowned, sliding his palm back up to Tobin’s cheek. “Why did your family throw you out?”
Tobin had to force himself to speak. He hadn’t told anyone of this, though he was sure Kellan could tell he’d been abandoned all those years ago.
But Tobin had to do this. He had to be honest—not for himself but because Fray deserved the truth.
“I was... different, I guess. In freeform, they couldn’t hear me, or feel me.
It would turn on and off. Sometimes they could, but most times not, and I guess they thought something was wrong with me, that I was a risk to the consortium. ”
“Oh, Tobin, I’m so sorry,” Fray murmured. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Not one thing. You’re perfect just the way you are.”
Tobin barely refrained from rolling his eyes.
“I mean it,” Fray added. “In fact, I’d say your ability to block people out is a talent not unlike my ability to zap or Ciaran’s ability to burn.”
Tobin looked at him. “What?”
“Why can’t it be? It’s a self-defence thing.
Not just to protect yourself mentally from sharing thoughts or feelings,” he said.
“Think about it. When we’re in freeform, we know when other cephamorphs are close by because we can sense them, right?
We can hear them, their internal voices.
But you can shield yourself. If they can’t see you, like you stay hidden from view, they’d never know you were there. ”
Tobin had never really thought of it like that.
Sure, he’d concealed himself and put his walls up to stay hidden, especially when he was young and on his own.
It was how he’d evaded predators. But he’d never thought of it as a special talent.
He’d always considered it a curse. “Yeah, maybe...?” He shrugged.
“I’ve spent my whole life trying not to think about it.
I just.... If I ever had to go swimming with someone else, I’d just focus on what we were doing and clear my mind of anything else.
I dunno. I always prefer to swim alone.”
“Oh, I know,” Fray said with the hint of a smile. “You prefer to swim alone, go off in your boat alone, stay in your house alone.”
“It was never personal,” Tobin murmured. “It was just safer that way. And I like being by myself. I’m a solitary creature.”
Fray flinched, but he still tried to smile. “I know.” He took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. “Are you sure you want this? Mr Solitary Creature being not so solitary. Is that what you want?”
This time Tobin put his hand on Fray’s cheek and thumbed his jaw.
“I do. It scares me, and my fear is that I’ll hurt you or you’ll regret it because I am how I am.
I know bonding with someone is supposed to make everything rosy and perfect, but I don’t know how that’ll work with us.
You’re pure sunshine, and I’m...” Darkness and shadows. “I’m me.”
Fray put his hand on Tobin’s waist and pulled their hips together. It sent jolts of desire through Tobin, and from the way Fray grunted, Tobin assumed he felt it too.
“That’s why we’ll work,” Fray murmured, his voice low and heady. “My sunshine will make your world brighter. And for what it’s worth, I’m not all sunshine. I have my bad days too.”
Tobin could have laughed at that.
Fray had no idea how much his smile, his laughter, made everyone’s day brighter.
“You’re perfect,” Tobin whispered.
“Well, perfect’s subjective,” he said with a shrug. “But you’re right. I totally do come close.”
Tobin chuckled, his hearts thumping happily.
“Whoa,” Fray said, recoiling with a hum, his hand on his chest. “There you are again. I can feel that. Fuck, Tobin, it’s so beautiful. The way you feel right now. It’s intense and wonderful.” Fray’s sapphire eyes were glassy. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For letting me in. For showing me the real you.” He studied Tobin’s eyes and then his face, taking in his features as if seeing them for the first time.
“You deserve to be loved. I want to show you how you were supposed to be loved your whole life. I hate that you were turned away by your family, and I want to make up for it.” He held Tobin’s face, thumbing his cheekbone. “Starting now, if you want.”
Tobin’s hearts thumped, his blood racing. He felt hot all over. “If I want...”
“If you want me,” Fray murmured, his eyes bright and earnest. He pressed his forehead to Tobin’s, their lips almost touching. “If you want me forever, I’m yours.” He ghosted a kiss over his mouth, barely a touch, which was totally unfair because it scrambled Tobin’s brain. “Can you feel me, Tobin?”
Feel him...?
Physically? Mentally? Emotionally?
Yes.
Fray was hard against him, their hips flush. Of course he could feel him. But when Tobin had his walls down, he could feel his emotions. Fray was bursting with adrenaline, excitement, and desire.
And love.
A whole entire world of love.