He's waiting for the speedster to be taken aback by the word. to turn and leave like he had last time - so long ago on the beach. It had been the last time Billy had ever called Tommy that word. It takes long enough for the blond to get his voice back that his boyfriend can keep speaking, which is all... true, but Billy knows better.

"You don't! You don't have to be perfect all the time because you're not! No one is, and no one here is gonna villainize you for it and if they do, they can answer to me. If I'm not gonna villainize your brother for the shit he did to me, I'm sure no one's gonna do it to you for the painting!"

He realizes he's holding too tightly. If this had happened during a storm, no doubt he would've broken Tommy's arms with his grip. Slowly he loosens that grip and moves his hands up to his partner's face. Breath in. Breath out. When he speaks, he's trying to keep from yelling. "Look at me, Shepherd. Look at me. You're allowed to be imperfect sometimes, okay? And look, you hurt the table. Not someone else, you didn't take it out on me or anyone else in this building. Just a table."