"You can cry on me if you need to," J says, but S has already pulled away a bit, and he's not going to push S to do that when he doesn't want to. If S wants to move on to their next gifts, then that's what they'll do. Knowing them, he tells himself, it's not like the feelings will stay pushed down for long. If S wants to talk about it later, he will.

So for now, he takes the gift S has offered him, still a bit distracted but no less pleased for it. "I can tell," he adds, lightly teasing. "Since I don't remember wrapping it. Go on, you open something too." He doesn't wait, though, for S to do so before he begins turning the present in his hands, looking for a good place to pull the paper off. "Or do you want me to hand you one?" He can't even fully remember which one is which at this point. There aren't a great many gifts, but they mostly fit into similar sized boxes, aside from the sheet music. Still, he knows which ones he got, at least, and sometimes it's fun to pick them out for each other. By this point, he's got the paper off, opening the box to find a few rolls of film, and he grins. "Ah, perfect."

There are few enough that J doesn't have to feel S went overboard, spending on him, but several enough that he should be able to enjoy learning how to use the camera without worrying about running out too quickly. It's lovely, really. He didn't expect the camera at all, but he's already itching to put the film in and try. And also to figure out exactly how to do that, because he doesn't actually know, now that he thinks of it.