Henry blinked in surprise and he turned around again because Iestyn was crying still, but now it sounded like he blamed himself. And here was Henry, turning blame inwards as well-
Oh, fucking hell.
Henry scooted along the floor, and he reached out, slowly putting his hands on his husband's knees in case Iestyn wanted to take them away. "Iestyn," he said quietly, his voice scratchy from crying, "oh my god it's not your fault. Of course you're not pathetic. Oh, honey- We- We're both blaming ourselves. I feel like I raped you, and you- God, Iestyn, you not wanting to watch me be hurt isn't weak or selfish. Do- Do you feel like I- Do you blame me?" Oh god, please don't let Iestyn blame him.