Glancing over at J as he pours coffee for both of them, S wonders if it's stupid to think that he's proud of his boyfriend. In so many ways, though, J really has come so far in the months he's spent here. He barely cooked at all before, and now he really seems to have taken to it. S can't imagine him doing something like this back when they were in Seoul, the fact of which makes him all the more appreciative now. It's more than that, though, too. J could barely use the stove after he first arrived, and he didn't use knives for a while at all, and with good reason. Now, though, he seems collected as he cuts the cake that he baked, and the whole picture makes S feel even warmer than the lingering heat in the kitchen does.

"Presents first it is," he agrees, stirring sugar into both coffee cups. "Ah, I'm excited for you to open yours anyway." He's nervous, really, which makes him a little impatient, though he wouldn't want to say so. The main gift he got feels like going out on a limb, not as safe a bet as other things he's bought J in the past. Sheet music and manuscript paper and records were always a given. This is something new, and he can only hope that he's made a good decision with it.

With both coffees ready, he picks them up and turns around. "I'll bring these out to the other room," he says, resisting the temptation to step close and kiss J's cheek only because he's holding two hot drinks and J is holding a knife, the situation making a potential mishap far too likely, which is the last thing they'd need on Christmas. "I still can't believe you baked for me. Thank you, really."