S is, at least, grateful for the warning, glad that he's ready for it when J comes, not least because it lets him look up, wanting to take in the view. It's an odd angle from down here, and he can only see so much, but still, J is stunning like this, lost in pleasure, the lines of his body pulled taut. Still S can't stop thinking that he did this, that he's the one who wrung that beautiful sound out of J, even as he swallows hard, shutting his eyes for a moment to collect himself as he does, breathless and a little overwhelmed but welcoming it. Maybe it's strange to think so, and it isn't as if this, specifically, has been on his mind in quite some time before today, but he missed it even so. He missed everything, really, when it comes to J; it's all that much better for it now.

Slowly, he eases back, though he doesn't go very far when he does, brushing the back of his hand over his mouth as he does, the other still resting over J's hip. Even trying to catch his breath and with his jaw a little sore, he smiles, faint and adoring and slightly awed, too hazy to keep his expression in check. It's incredible, really, and keeps hitting him, over and over, how lucky he is to have this again. He always knew he was, when they were first together, but if that was the case then, it's infinitely truer now.