It isn't at all what S is expecting, for J to sink down to the floor of the tub with him, and his smile pulls a little wider for it, a soft, breathless laugh escaping him. At least it means he doesn't have to try to get up yet, leaning into J instead, touching him just for the sake of it, fingers trailing over arm and shoulder and cheek, forehead resting against J's. He's exhausted, but for the first time in a long time, it's a good exhaustion. They can't stay down here forever or probably even for very much longer, and he thinks that they must look ridiculous, sitting in the tub, the shower still on, himself half-clothed, but right now, he doesn't much care. It's worth it to be close like this, S tucking his legs to his side so he can give his knees a break, his palm settling against J's jaw when J kisses him.

"I've been asking myself the same thing," he says, still a little awestruck, shaking his head slightly without pulling away. This shouldn't be possible. He knows that, hasn't been able to lose sight of it since he first spotted J on the sidewalk earlier, but here they are anyway, and it feels better even than he would have imagined, if he could have imagined something like this at all, which he couldn't. And he knows, too, that it won't always be like this, but even just for it to sometimes be like this, even just to have it now, makes all the rest more worthwhile than it already would have been.

The very fact of that is why he doesn't say any of it, not wanting to bring the mood down so soon. S thinks knowing is enough, though. For as long as they have, he doesn't want to lose sight of how lucky he is, and he doubts he ever could. Eyes half-shut, he kisses J on the lips again, figuring that J having done so first serves as an implicit permission of sorts. "I love you so much."