It's entirely too easy, really, to get caught up in watching J open gifts and forget to open his own. Lack of interest has nothing to do with it; he's curious and pleased, if trying not to let himself get emotional about the sheet music again. Anything from J would be touching, really, simply because he knows it would be heartfelt. When they've never been able to afford much in the way of gifts, he's never expected much, either. This year is, he's certain, the most he's ever gotten for J at once before, and that's mostly due to being able to work full time now that he's no longer in school and the money he gets each month from this place, which goes a long way towards making sure his share of the rent and their bills and groceries are covered each month. It's still not terribly much, but they're better off by far than they were, enough that he's been able to save up to do something particularly nice for their anniversary and for Christmas.

That's sort of a gift in itself, really. How happy J looks is even more of one. Still, having been prompted, he does want to see what's in the last of the presents, reaching for one roughly the same shape and size as the box his scarf was in. "Alright, alright," he laughs, shooting J a grin as he unwraps the paper, then opens the box. Even having noticed the similarity in the boxes, he isn't expecting the gloves inside, the same color as the scarf and, he's pretty sure, nicer than any he would bother to get for himself. "Ah, these look so soft," he says, wriggling a hand into one to check for himself. "And they match. Thank you."