With all the crying they've both done, it's ridiculous that J should be so adorable right now. That little pout, though, is nothing but, one of S's favorite expressions of his. Nothing comes close to when he really smiles, of course, bright and pleased, but this is still deeply endearing. Smiling a little, tired but so very fond, he leans in just enough for the tip of his nose to brush J's for a moment. If anything, he should probably ease back, start getting them ready to head home, but he can't bring himself to move yet. It feels too good just to sit here together. Even though he sat at J's side when J played the piano at Kagura, he was reluctant then even to do that much, still misinterpreting everything, wanting to let it be J's. This, though, feels like finally getting back something he thought he would never have again, and he wants to savor it just for a little while longer.
"I'd like that, too," he murmurs, nodding slightly. They don't need to have a specific plan for what they'll do then; if anything, he thinks it might be better not to, leaving it open for whatever either of them is in the mood for. If J wants to play or wants to listen or wants to play together, or any combination of those things, then he'll be able to, and maybe, the more they try it, the more S will start to feel like it's something that could be his again. What that would look like now, he has no idea in the slightest. He never was all that ambitious, and if anything, he's even less so now than he used to be. As long as he can have a quiet life with J, he'll be happy. Letting the piano be a part of that again just makes it even better.
As for J's request, though, S has no intention of just telling J when to show up. That could too easily cause too many problems, would feel too much like the things that drove J so crazy before. "And how about," he continues, quiet and thoughtful, figuring out what he wants to say as he goes, "you tell me when you're feeling like you want to come try it, and then I'll tell you what day is best?"
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"I'd like that, too," he murmurs, nodding slightly. They don't need to have a specific plan for what they'll do then; if anything, he thinks it might be better not to, leaving it open for whatever either of them is in the mood for. If J wants to play or wants to listen or wants to play together, or any combination of those things, then he'll be able to, and maybe, the more they try it, the more S will start to feel like it's something that could be his again. What that would look like now, he has no idea in the slightest. He never was all that ambitious, and if anything, he's even less so now than he used to be. As long as he can have a quiet life with J, he'll be happy. Letting the piano be a part of that again just makes it even better.
As for J's request, though, S has no intention of just telling J when to show up. That could too easily cause too many problems, would feel too much like the things that drove J so crazy before. "And how about," he continues, quiet and thoughtful, figuring out what he wants to say as he goes, "you tell me when you're feeling like you want to come try it, and then I'll tell you what day is best?"