That, at least, is something with which S can agree without hesitation. He does trust J, and he knows too well the kind of trouble it's caused when he's tried to make decisions for J's sake. He still isn't sure that this has been that, exactly, the situation one that feels more complicated, but it would be if he didn't take J at his word. If he stops, it has to be because he wants to or because J makes it clear that he isn't comfortable going any further. Either very well might happen. Even if it doesn't, S hates this — hates how big it has become and how he looks, hates how self-conscious he feels around the one person he's ever been most comfortable with, hates the odd sense of shame that comes along with it, even though it isn't as if he stabbed himself or even knew about the surgery until after it had happened. Like so much else in his life, he had no say over it at all, something that spun rapidly out of his grasp before he could do anything about it.
At least the rest of this isn't like that, not entirely. The circumstances are, but where they go from here is up to the two of them, and he won't know what comes next until then. That's exactly why he feels like he has to do this now. If he doesn't, he very well might never do it, and then they'll just remain stuck where they are now, not knowing what might work and what won't. Keeping himself covered around J has been a measure of control in a way, too, preventing the possible fallout, but a desperate one, the only option he saw available to him. Maybe after today, that won't still be the case. Or maybe it will, but at least he'll know then instead of basing it only on frightened guesswork.
Resolved as he might be to attempt this, he can't look at J as he does it, nor can he look at himself. He glances past J to the wall instead, keeping his eyes there as he unbuttons his shirt with shaky hands. It's been so fucking long now — he's been so careful not to do exactly this — that it feels wrong now, almost enough to make him want to change his mind, but he's determined now to see it through. So instead, he waits, all but holding his breath as he unfastens enough buttons that the shoulders of his shirt can fall loose, hoping that he hasn't just made a really big fucking mistake.
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At least the rest of this isn't like that, not entirely. The circumstances are, but where they go from here is up to the two of them, and he won't know what comes next until then. That's exactly why he feels like he has to do this now. If he doesn't, he very well might never do it, and then they'll just remain stuck where they are now, not knowing what might work and what won't. Keeping himself covered around J has been a measure of control in a way, too, preventing the possible fallout, but a desperate one, the only option he saw available to him. Maybe after today, that won't still be the case. Or maybe it will, but at least he'll know then instead of basing it only on frightened guesswork.
Resolved as he might be to attempt this, he can't look at J as he does it, nor can he look at himself. He glances past J to the wall instead, keeping his eyes there as he unbuttons his shirt with shaky hands. It's been so fucking long now — he's been so careful not to do exactly this — that it feels wrong now, almost enough to make him want to change his mind, but he's determined now to see it through. So instead, he waits, all but holding his breath as he unfastens enough buttons that the shoulders of his shirt can fall loose, hoping that he hasn't just made a really big fucking mistake.