S nods, a quiet concession, unable to argue the truth of that even if he wanted to. He was tired; he still is, at once both wound up and all the more worn out from that surge of panic. Even not wanting to explain the extent of it and the reasons for it, he can admit that much. The past few days have been exhausting, anyway, even as they've been the best he's had in a long, long time. It ought to be understandable that they'd take their toll, regardless of how much he did or didn't sleep. They do need to eat, too, and if he isn't up for cooking now, he doubts he'll be any more so in an hour or two or whenever. Ordering food doesn't seem too unnecessary, then — a little frivolous, maybe, but still worth it, all the more so now that J's gotten himself in the mood for something specific that they don't have the ingredients on hand to make.

"Ah, it'll be good to have something for when I do get hungry," he says, shrugging a little. By the time any food gets here, he might well be, anyway, or the smell will entice him into it. Either way, as long as it gets eaten, it won't be a waste of money, and they did talk the other day about trying some of the nearby restaurants at some point. This seems like a good opportunity to start, another little distraction in its own right. "Menus in the drawer. I can get them, I was thinking of getting up to make tea, anyway."

He doesn't start to move quite yet, but he will. Even if it turned out alright in the end, he still remembers J's uneasiness when he first used a burner on the stove, and S doesn't want and wouldn't expect him to do so now if he'd be uncomfortable with it, not least given what they were talking about not long ago at all.