It takes only a few moments after he's spoken for S to realize that he very much shouldn't have. There's a reason why he hasn't brought it up before, after all. While they've more than once fallen into conversations about the need to talk to each other and how much difference it makes, he doesn't see this the same way at all. Nothing is wrong. This isn't him deciding something for both of them — at least, he doesn't think it is — but just not mentioning something that doesn't need to involve J. However he may have been wounded in the first place, the recovery part has been all him, and it's not like this is a complication or something seeming off. It's just a routine appointment, one that wouldn't be worth worrying J.
After all, as a rule, he doesn't talk about it, the scars on his chest, the damage he sustained, the recovery from it. He remembers too well, painfully well, how J reacted to the sight of them the day he got here. Since then, he thinks he can probably count on one hand the number of times it's come up. J said something in those first few days, as he recalls, about needing to be able to face them at some point, sooner rather than later, but that soon has never arrived. As much as it may hurt, without explicit permission, he isn't going to make J face the lasting marks from that last night they saw each other back in Seoul. It may not always be very convenient, wearing a shirt during sex or when they shower together, changing in the bathroom or carefully facing the wall, trying not to draw attention to it all the while, but it's a hell of a lot better than the alternative. If it's part of keeping J safe, then he doesn't mind it at all.
And this, really, is just a variation on the same sort of thing. There's no reason to bring it up, to force J to think about it. Except now he already has brought it up, and the last thing he wants is to make J worry needlessly, his stomach twisting a little as he shakes his head. "Everything's fine," he says, casual but earnest. "It's just a routine thing. A check-up."
no subject
After all, as a rule, he doesn't talk about it, the scars on his chest, the damage he sustained, the recovery from it. He remembers too well, painfully well, how J reacted to the sight of them the day he got here. Since then, he thinks he can probably count on one hand the number of times it's come up. J said something in those first few days, as he recalls, about needing to be able to face them at some point, sooner rather than later, but that soon has never arrived. As much as it may hurt, without explicit permission, he isn't going to make J face the lasting marks from that last night they saw each other back in Seoul. It may not always be very convenient, wearing a shirt during sex or when they shower together, changing in the bathroom or carefully facing the wall, trying not to draw attention to it all the while, but it's a hell of a lot better than the alternative. If it's part of keeping J safe, then he doesn't mind it at all.
And this, really, is just a variation on the same sort of thing. There's no reason to bring it up, to force J to think about it. Except now he already has brought it up, and the last thing he wants is to make J worry needlessly, his stomach twisting a little as he shakes his head. "Everything's fine," he says, casual but earnest. "It's just a routine thing. A check-up."