For just a moment, S wonders again if he's misjudged, gotten this all wrong. Even such a simple statement seemed like it could be veering close to too many uncomfortable truths, and yet he couldn't not say it, wanting to find some way of letting J know what was going through his head when he chose to do this. He's never known anyone else as inherently artistic as J, something S has seen even in the pictures J's been taking with his phone. Whether or not J will keep playing the piano, or decide he can pursue it more seriously again, S doesn't know, and he doesn't think J does, either. It won't make a difference in that regard, and neither will his taking to photography or not. It's something that runs deeper than that, but that doesn't mean J wants to be told as much. Maybe it will just be a reminder of what he doesn't have anymore.

This time, though, J's reaction becomes clearer more quickly. S still feels a little guilty and a little sheepish, but at least he doesn't seem to have fucked this up. Both hands lifting to J's cheeks now, S leans in to kiss him, sure and sweet. "I figured it would anyway," he says, both teasing and not, his obvious affection colored with amusement. "I'm really glad you like it all, though. Ah, it would have been so much to return if you didn't."

The statement is a joke — a way of trying to keep the mood light, really — but he would have done it. There wouldn't be any sense in keeping all this photography equipment only for it to go untouched, but he would have wanted to make it up to J, too, and get presents he would enjoy more. This seems like the best possible outcome, though, a way of doing something nice for J, more than worthwhile even if it does result in a messier apartment.