Wrung out as he feels from being so emotional, moments like these are some of S's favorites in their relationship. That first while J was here, it isn't that S didn't trust him, but he still couldn't help expecting everything to go wrong somehow, any burst of emotion like this or disagreement making him hold his breath and wonder if they were about to fuck everything up all over again. Even continuing to talk about something that holds so much weight for them, though, they're fine now, finding ways to enjoy those memories instead of being dragged down by them. Skeptical as he may have been at first, he thinks now that it's a good thing that they're discussing it, finding a way to hold onto the thing they both loved so much. Whether they did or not, after all, it would always have been there. All that time and all that passion doesn't just disintegrate. They can still love it without loving it like they did before.

"Only romantic for us," he teases, giving J a gentle little nudge. That's all that matters, though, whether it is to them or not, and he isn't about to argue on either front. It is fun to feel like he's getting away with something he shouldn't be able to do, especially when he knows that's not true. His boss and his coworkers know he plays, and it's hardly as if he's the only person on staff here who's also a musician. It's safe and yet surreal, something that would at the absolute least have been out of reach back in Seoul for a long, long time. "But it is. Not that we ever needed it to be illicit to be romantic."

He doesn't want to ruin this again, but he doesn't want to talk around what they only just finally managed to address head-on, either. Still leaning against J's side, head on his shoulder, S slowly lifts his outside hand, fingertips grazing the smooth, glossy keys. "I don't know if I should play more now. Or what I'd play if I did."