J makes a playfully petulant sound, easing over toward the tree and drawing S with him. "And here I thought you'd lavish me with expensive candies," he says wryly. He doesn't really need anything like that. He has, he's realized over the last few days, no real idea what S will have bought for him, and it's at once incredibly strange and exciting. It helps, he's decided, that he's played the piano again, if only a very little. He still isn't entirely sure of what his future holds or who he is if he isn't a musician — or, now, if he's really stopped after all — and it's bizarre to imagine who else he might be, all the doors open to him that he hasn't dreamed up yet. The few gifts he received when he was younger were precious and valuable to him, but rarely a surprise, and now he has no idea at all.

After another brief kiss, he draws S down onto the couch with him so he can lean forward and grab his coffee. "Ah, I should have had some of this sooner," he muses after a sip. "Feels nice." He cups the mug close in his hands to warm them. It's warmer in the kitchen right now than it is in the living room — not by an awful lot, since the kitchen isn't entirely closed off, so there's still a lot of airflow, but enough that he can feel the difference now.