It's a difficult position to manage, J tucking his legs close under himself as he tugs S closer. With the both of them more or less immobilized by their feelings, it's more complicated than it ought to be to pull S into his arms, but he's determined. He'd feel a lot more pathetic about this if S weren't clearly just as incapacitated, if not more so. With his arms around S, he strokes idly wherever he can reach, trying hard to soothe him, even if J feels like he's going at this all blind. He's not used to being on this end of things.

"But I am," he says, not quite thinking before he does, then pulls a face, both frustrated and apologetic. He turns his head to kiss S's hair. "I didn't think and I should have before I got... upset with you. I made a mess of this." He gets so stuck in his own head, so painfully aware of his own feelings, he often forgets to process that S's motivations aren't always the ones J imagines for him. He's usually pretty good at understanding where S is coming from, but there are blind spots, hidden by his inexplicable anxieties.

It's not like he's not upset anymore. There's still plenty of reason for him to be bothered and worried, but they aren't the reasons he thought they were, not entirely. Not only, at least. And it's not worth bringing any of them up until they're both breathing a little more easily.