If Arthur looks up, he'll get to watch an absolute face journey going on on John: first up is pleasure (wait, you think I know how not to push? you noticed I'm trying?!) followed by dawning realization (oh no, Edwin doesn't know not to push?) by concern (how badly did it go?) and then it settles (Arthur would have said something if it went bad enough or he wouldn't have been able to find Edwin for a few days and that hasn't happened) before immediately zooming into empathy (sorry, Arthur, he's sorry someone poked that open wound) and then a wince (goddammit, no, Edwin doesn't know not to push) which heads into a cringe (oh that probably still wasn't fun) and then his lips pressed tight (I'm a little glad to know Arthur did say no but I don't love that about myself but I also won't pretend it's not true). He tries to push past it.

"He... yeah. I've, um... I've noticed that." Then, because if there's one person he doesn't have to hide from, it's Arthur- "Sometimes, I'm jealous of him for that. It used to bother me a little."

Okay, no, real-

"...it still bothers me a little. It shouldn't, though. I know."