"Yeah, 'n I'm the bastard man who makes you cry, so..." Fletch followed without question, not the most graceful man he'd ever been by far as he stumbled forward and rolled onto the bed, pulling Theo down with him. He didn't wrap the man up in a tight embrace as he usually did, but remained far enough away from him to gaze at him. It was a mournful gaze. A troubled one. Theo's offer had seemed to do the opposite of what he'd intended it to.
"Love...I'm not in the business of comparing who I've been with. So don't take this that way, alright? But..."
Fletcher trailed off. He turned and shoved his face into the pillow and let out a heavy sigh and a few choice words before turning back so he could be read. "My husband went through it before I met him. Alright? The man before me was a son of a bitch. And Ven treated this sort of thing...a bit like you're doing now. Like a chore. An obligation. And that's never how it should be. That is never what I wanted from him, and it's never what I want from you. So whoever taught you that that's what you've got to do to keep a man...well. I've words for him, first of all. But second: he was wrong.
"What I want from you," he continued, a little softer and a little closer now, "Is for you to want it. And to want it for you. Not for me. You could offer me everything on a platter, love, and I'll not take it from you if it's coming from where this is."