J can't help it, his smile brighter and warmer, his heart full, as he watches S tap the toy on its nose. He's so lovely, so naturally adorable, and J is, as he often is, utterly taken with him. Whatever doubt he had a few moments ago fades away, replaced by the pleasure of seeing S enjoy his choice, watching him play along.

He tips his head to the side, considering these options, both of which he finds equally cute, and taps his own nose in turn, playing up his thoughtfulness. "Franz and Frederic," he tries out. "Franz and Claude... Ah, I think Frederic. The names go well together, don't you think? Ah, Franz will be happy to have a friend." He leans his head against S's shoulder, quietly content. It's not a Christmas he would have ever imagined for them when they were young. So many terrible things happened he could never have conjured up, and so many wonderful things have happened he wouldn't have dared dream of having. Stretching up just a bit, he kisses S's jaw and settles back again.