S isn't sure, really, why he finds this quite as touching as he does. They've had plenty of mornings like this, after all, both before this place and since they got here; it's hardly new. For that matter, whether big or small, their Christmases have always involved trying to do what they can for each other. Given the circumstances, maybe he would have found anything J did today particularly meaningful, but something about this — J waking up early to cook something for him, the sound of that laugh — makes him feel surprisingly emotional, a pleasant ache in his heart. Just having J back in his life at all was, months ago, more than he could possibly have hoped for. Being back together, having come so far this year, not being alone anymore, knowing how loved he must be — it's perfect, what would be too good to be true if he weren't living it.

"I'm sure it will," he replies, as confident in J as he's ever been. J's gotten a lot better in the kitchen these last few months, and frankly, even if whatever he's making doesn't turn out well, S doesn't think he'll care. It's sweet enough that J is doing this anyway. "I had no idea you were planning on making anything."

That is, he's sure, the idea, just as he's tried to avoid giving J any indication of what he's bought. A few times, he was tempted to ask him about it, just to gauge his interest, but when it came down to it, he couldn't bring himself to give it away. He'll just have to hope for the best.