The last thing S wants right now is another apology, but he bites back the instinct to say so. It wouldn't be worth talking in circles again about it, and the fact of the matter is, he does wish J had said so sooner, even if he understands why he didn't, just like he wishes he'd said something sooner himself, and knows he had a good reason to hold back. Even now, they're a mess. He stands by what he said a little while ago, though. Maybe they didn't get this right, but they've worked their way through it now. They do learn, just more slowly than they probably should. In all fairness, they've been through hell, too, both together and apart. Of course they might struggle with things that once came easily; of course certain subjects might be more difficult to broach. They've both tried, he thinks, him encouraging J at Kagura, J giving him sheet music for Christmas, but without talking about it, of course they both would have made the assumptions they did.

It's easier to cut himself a little slack in that regard when he thinks about it being true for both of them rather than something he got wrong. As much as it hurts to think about what J mistakenly believed instead, S knows he had every reason to think that J wouldn't be comfortable hearing him play. With all the trouble it caused between them for so long, he's still not sure how he feels about what to do next. He does, though, think that they'll be better for having it out in the open, the biggest hurdle behind them now.

"Good," he replies, hand curling around J's again. What he doesn't say is that he thinks it's probably better for both of them if it wasn't what it once was. At least this way, letting it be something new, there's a chance for it to be something at all. "Both of those things. That has to count for something, right? That it feels good."