Jamie's first instinct is to try to catch Sora's lips with his own, because that's what you do when you kiss and it hardly seems fair that Sora should be doing all the work here, and it takes a fair amount of restraint and concentration to hold more-or-less still and let Sora do his thing. Once he's actually doing it, though, Jamie's too overwhelmed to really do much else but twitch and squirm and make little confused noises in his throat.

Sora might be good at expressing himself and speaking honestly, but Jamie is not, even when he's drunk, and even though Sora's words trigger a surge of intense feelings in him he can't find the right way to vent them, except through a frustrated groan. He swallows convulsively and squeezes Sora's hand tightly, and his other hand finds its way up to the back of Sora's head, fumbling through the motions of ruffling his hair.

"I, uhhhh, I - think we can work on that," he gasps, as Sora's breath on his neck makes all his hair stand on end. "The - the looking, and - god you're really good at this, holy shit -"