J sniffles, nodding against S's hair. He knows all too well how that feels. He's done that to S too many times to count and in proportionally much worse ways. "I know," he murmurs. "I love you so much. I wish — I wish I weren't so easy to hurt." It's hard on him, being so fucking fragile all the time, but it's hard for S, too, he knows. S is, he's pretty sure, more or less used to having to adjust for J's issues, trying to compensate for problems that might arise, guessing at things that might set J off. He dances around topics like this to keep J safe. He shouldn't have to be used to it, though. J hates that this is how it has to be. But if he wants S to accept that things can't be the way they used to, that he's not going to magically be fixed, then he has to try and make himself understand that too. Sometimes he actually does.

"Or that I were more predictable at least," he says after a moment. "Even to myself. I know you want to protect me, but I... I don't like that it hurts you. That you have to carry so much and hold things back to do it." He wishes, really, that he were easier to love. It's not that he thinks S would ask for a simpler life or even that he regrets the one they have; he just would rather it not be this hard. He heaves a sigh, drawing S tighter against him for a moment, as much of a hug as he can manage when he's already cradling S close. "Sometimes there isn't anything you can do, Hyunie. I'm me. I'll find some way to be hurt whatever happens."

All he can do, he thinks, is what he promised a moment ago — try to be honest, try to be aware. He can't know in advance what will upset him, not always, but he can warn S as soon as he does know. If he speaks up, if he reminds himself that it will hurt less now than if he lets things get worse, then maybe he can avoid real trouble. But none of that really helps him figure out how to make things easier for S when it comes to knowing what to hold back when. It's constantly changing, and few answers to that stay true for long.