[The Thing, their mutual bad habit, deprioritizing himself because of something difficult to hear. They both know this one, so Junpei leaves it at the thing and squeezes Charles tighter, for emphasis. None of that, sir. No thing.
That and, well, on the tail end of this conversation in particular, in which Charles has admitted to protecting himself less for someone else's sake, well! Junpei would rather he not have to do that, or feel like he has to do that, ever again.]
You know I just... want to know where you're coming from. About stuff. And it's pretty fucking terrible stuff, but... thanks for telling me.
[That's what counts! He asked in the first place knowing full well it might be dreadful, like all of his own stuff is dreadful, so— he's fine. Harrowed, maybe. But fine.]
Would it help if I took my shirt off too...? Uh, not in a sexy way. Like an in-this-together way. [it made sense to him—]
no subject
[The Thing, their mutual bad habit, deprioritizing himself because of something difficult to hear. They both know this one, so Junpei leaves it at the thing and squeezes Charles tighter, for emphasis. None of that, sir. No thing.
That and, well, on the tail end of this conversation in particular, in which Charles has admitted to protecting himself less for someone else's sake, well! Junpei would rather he not have to do that, or feel like he has to do that, ever again.]
You know I just... want to know where you're coming from. About stuff. And it's pretty fucking terrible stuff, but... thanks for telling me.
[That's what counts! He asked in the first place knowing full well it might be dreadful, like all of his own stuff is dreadful, so— he's fine. Harrowed, maybe. But fine.]
Would it help if I took my shirt off too...? Uh, not in a sexy way. Like an in-this-together way. [it made sense to him—]