It's a little strange, really, how he can feel so good while also being so exhausted and sore. Lately, those things haven't gone hand in hand for him at all. Granted, he also hasn't felt good very often lately in the first place, never mind like this, but it's an odd and welcome change of pace to be worn out from what they've been doing and not just because his body couldn't handle much physical activity yet. His hips and thighs still ache, and he's sure he'll have a smattering of bruises later from how tightly J was holding onto him when he was in bed; his knees feel a little weak from supporting himself in spite of that, though the wall behind him helps, and holding onto J does, too. All of it is so good, though, that it's impossible to mind. It just makes this feel all the more real.

As much as he appreciates the offer, then, he has every intention of following through on what he said before. "There's no rush," he says, his fingers still threaded into J's hair. "I'm okay." Besides wanting to get J off, he still needs to finish washing up anyway, and a few minutes more won't make a huge amount of difference. Briefly, his expression turns just the slightest bit sly, suggestive. "And if I'm on my knees, then I'm off my feet, anyway."

First, though, he wants to kiss J, so he does, leaning forward to let their lips meet again. It's always a little strange, being able to taste himself on J's mouth, but it isn't nearly enough to make him hold back now. Clearly teasing, then, he adds, "Definitely don't think it's for any lack of trying on your part."