He doesn't know what he expected, except not this; he was incapable of expecting this. He feels raw, suddenly, overexposed and relieved in the same moment, like squeezing aloe leaves on a sunburn. He can feel the warmth of Horseriver's mouth through the glove and he wonders with a sharp twisted ache if Fives was right about him after all. It wasn't that he'd meant to be giving in so easily, so weakly. He just - like with Tris, like with Jean, he doesn't need to do any maneuvering and he barely knows what his balance is without it.

He takes a careful breath. "It might have been different if he were demoted. I need that not to happen. But that seems like. More of a him problem. And I'm angry with him too, for. Badly overstepping, for hurting you when he's..." It would be ridiculous to say there was any power imbalance that mattered, and yet, Fives had a responsibility, even if he thought his responsibility was to protecting Jedao first - and that's on Jedao -

"Weeping eyes, what a fucking mess, I know I need to do better with him, and he needs to control himself, but he was terrified for me and you are four hundred and he is thirteen and he didn't have a chance. And I love him, and I need him." Clearly, deliberately, the words feeling artificial as marbles stuffed in his mouth - "Please do not bait him again."

And then he's afraid, as soon as the words are out of him. Reflexive, inexorable cold squeezing his heart. Telling people above you things you really want is just handing them targets -

(It's different with him, he kept trying to tell Fives, or sometimes He's different with me, in ways Jedao feels in his bones but still struggles to actually understand. He squeezes Horseriver's hand tight, and pulls himself the fuck together. It's Horseriver; it's different.)

I love you, he thinks in a shaky, messy surge. He still doesn't know if it's the kind of thing he's supposed to say out loud or not.