S wants to protest, to say that he's sure he won't find it silly. He would mean it, too. Anything from J is, simply for the fact of that, going to mean a lot to him, and he has no doubt that whatever it is will be heartfelt. Rather than debating the silliness of a gift not yet known to him, though, he sets about opening it instead, looking a bit amused at the package's shape as he begins to take the wrapping paper off it. The pieces of clothing were boxed, so it doesn't seem likely to be more outerwear, though it feels soft and light like it. Other than that, he is, until he sees it, at a loss, not really having had any idea what to expect from J this year anyway, after assuming that music would remain off-limits.

He still doesn't know how to explain how touched he is that that's not the case after all, but it also doesn't seem important in the slightest right now, that train of thought temporarily forgotten when he sees the little plush cat. Immediately, he beams, delighted, lifting up the stuffed animal to get a better look. In retrospect, maybe he should have anticipated something like this, having given a couple to J this year, that day on the boardwalk and for his birthday. He didn't, though, and if anything is silly, he thinks it's how pleased he is. The last time he received a gift like this must have been when he was very young. On their own, the two of them couldn't exactly afford much in the way of frivolous presents, and this is definitely that. He's all the more charmed as a result.

"Ah, he's so cute," he says, bright, before he looks up at J again. "It's not silly. I love him, thank you."