Truthfully, J isn't very good either at that part of things, letting go of control. There are places in his life he doesn't much mind it and others where he has desperate need to be sure he's the one calling the shots, because the world is too much and his mind is precarious. But in order to stay alive, he's learned, he needs both. He has to be able to maintain enough control of himself and his situation to avoid things that will make him worse. He has to give up on ever being able to control everything or he'll only get worse for that too.
He's pretty sure sometimes that that's the only way he learned that. It's uncomfortable when so much of himself seems beyond his control, but he doesn't think he'd have made it this far if he hadn't been able to manage it sometimes. But S, S has never had to learn it to the same extent J has. He's had every reason to keep grasping to hold the reins of every situation before him, and J hasn't often given him much cause to do otherwise, not as more than a day's distraction. Of course S would change things if he could. So would J. But too much of what J would want to change is set in stone, painfully solid and real and immovable. He won't survive trying.
"I know," he says softly, kissing S's hair. It's hard to have to adapt to things that used to be normal. It's painful sometimes, and even as he wants to encourage S to pursue this, he also doesn't want to let him think that it's going to be simple, that the only complicating factor is S's willingness or lack thereof. There will be times, he suspects, when he won't be as at ease. But then those are probably not going to be moments when they're having sex or showering, at least. "I wish it weren't."
He can't help the longing in his voice as he says it. As calm as he's managed to stay the last while, crying aside, he's still worn down by the emotions of all this, and it's impossible to pretend he doesn't wish desperately, too, that he could undo the past. He'd give nearly anything to be able to put it all right. He just can't. There's no way to do that, and there never will be, and he'll think about it until he goes mad all over again, but he knows it won't change anything. All he can do now is work with what he has, which is a hell of a lot, and take care of this wonderful man. "And I promise I'll keep my stupid arm. I got used to it mostly." He wrinkles up his nose, not drawing away to look at his scars, though the urge to do so dances along the nape of his neck. "And I learned to stop being afraid of being over you. Remember how scared I was to even mention it? I learned to be here alone and still be safe. I learned to go out and be safe, even from me. There are a lot of things I wish I hadn't had to learn again. There are things I'm still learning. It feels so stupid to have to. It feels so small. And almost none of it is ever completely permanent or even complete, and it's really fucking stupid, thinking I've got things figured out and then having to build up my nerve again. I hate it. But what else can we do? I'd change it for you, too, if I could. I hate that I can't."
The words tumble out of him, soft and a little tired, almost like he's telling S a story to calm him, but it's all true. Maybe it helps just to be true. "I can distract you through it though and tell you I still think you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen. Even if you stay all covered up forever."
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He's pretty sure sometimes that that's the only way he learned that. It's uncomfortable when so much of himself seems beyond his control, but he doesn't think he'd have made it this far if he hadn't been able to manage it sometimes. But S, S has never had to learn it to the same extent J has. He's had every reason to keep grasping to hold the reins of every situation before him, and J hasn't often given him much cause to do otherwise, not as more than a day's distraction. Of course S would change things if he could. So would J. But too much of what J would want to change is set in stone, painfully solid and real and immovable. He won't survive trying.
"I know," he says softly, kissing S's hair. It's hard to have to adapt to things that used to be normal. It's painful sometimes, and even as he wants to encourage S to pursue this, he also doesn't want to let him think that it's going to be simple, that the only complicating factor is S's willingness or lack thereof. There will be times, he suspects, when he won't be as at ease. But then those are probably not going to be moments when they're having sex or showering, at least. "I wish it weren't."
He can't help the longing in his voice as he says it. As calm as he's managed to stay the last while, crying aside, he's still worn down by the emotions of all this, and it's impossible to pretend he doesn't wish desperately, too, that he could undo the past. He'd give nearly anything to be able to put it all right. He just can't. There's no way to do that, and there never will be, and he'll think about it until he goes mad all over again, but he knows it won't change anything. All he can do now is work with what he has, which is a hell of a lot, and take care of this wonderful man. "And I promise I'll keep my stupid arm. I got used to it mostly." He wrinkles up his nose, not drawing away to look at his scars, though the urge to do so dances along the nape of his neck. "And I learned to stop being afraid of being over you. Remember how scared I was to even mention it? I learned to be here alone and still be safe. I learned to go out and be safe, even from me. There are a lot of things I wish I hadn't had to learn again. There are things I'm still learning. It feels so stupid to have to. It feels so small. And almost none of it is ever completely permanent or even complete, and it's really fucking stupid, thinking I've got things figured out and then having to build up my nerve again. I hate it. But what else can we do? I'd change it for you, too, if I could. I hate that I can't."
The words tumble out of him, soft and a little tired, almost like he's telling S a story to calm him, but it's all true. Maybe it helps just to be true. "I can distract you through it though and tell you I still think you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen. Even if you stay all covered up forever."