Page 60 of Epidermis

“Not like that, she isn’t going to go bother him while he’s working. That’s more Konrad’s speed. No, I was hoping we could go on a little… double date?”

Jasper rubbed the back of his neck. “Um.”

“Yay! How about tomorrow?”

He sighed. This was a losing battle that he didn’t feel like fighting in vain. He muttered that he’d ask Konrad, shaking his head as he went back to prepping for his client who would be getting there any time now. It was a large piece, so he took his hoodie off, knowing he’d make it an hour tops before he was sweating.

His stomach twisted and fluttered at the thought of a double date, like his body didn’t know if he was nervous or excited. Besides Vegas, he and Konrad had existed separately from the rest of his life, and letting them overlap made what they were doing feel… real. Less like something he was just trying on to see if it fit.

Okay, he knew it fit. But saying it out loud felt like he was just begging for the whole thing to shatter. Like he could have Konrad as long as he tiptoed and didn’t let the universe overhear that he’d found someone, because then it would surely be wrenched away at the behest of whatever cosmic force had decided he couldn’t have a lasting relationship.

Hiyori said the dress code was casual, wanting to keep things laid back and comfortable, and Jasper warned her that casual for Konrad Iversen was probably just not wearing a tie with his suit. So he was pleasantly surprised when he picked Konrad up and he was dressed in a dark red cashmere sweater with a loose neckline and grey slacks. Even his hair was minimally styled. Jasper watched him get into the car and flushed a little when Konrad leaned across the console to kiss him. He’d gotten comfortable with the sex, but small, intimate gestures like that still threw him for a loop.

“You look really good,” Jasper said when they parted.

“As do you, darling.”

Jasper was wearing a new, long-sleeved black shirt and black jeans with a silver wallet chain. He didn’t start regretting his decision until he was ten minutes from the restaurant. It might have been because it was new, but the shirt was scratchy. He could feel it against his nape and his sides when he moved.

It started as a mild annoyance at home, but by the time he parked in front of the Japanese steakhouse Shariah had chosen, he wanted to climb out of his skin and go live somewhere else. He twitched and fidgeted but nothing helped.

“Jasper?”

“M’fine,” he muttered. Communication wasn’t his strong suit when he felt like this.

Konrad reached over but stopped when he saw Jasper stiffen—it wasn’t that he didn’t want Konrad to touch him, he just couldn’t stand for the awful fucking shirt to be rubbed against him in the process.

Instead, Konrad asked, “Can you tell me what’s wrong? You can text it to me if that’s easier.” He sounded uncertain, probably since he’d never seen Jasper overstimulated in any way except the fun, sexy way, but he didn’t sound pitying or impatient. One or both of those things was usually present when someone had to deal with Jasper when he was like this.

“I, um. My shirt. It’s…” Jasper clasped his hands together like he could capture all the words escaping his grasp. “I don’t like how it feels.”

“Take it off.”

Jasper readied a retort for the most unhelpful advice ever given, because he didn’t just keep extra shirts in his car—he probably should—when he saw Konrad unhook his seatbelt and pull his sweater over his head. Konrad held it in his lap and waited.

“My shirt wouldn’t fit you,” Jasper said, unable to put the feeling in his chest into words, and he knew that would be the case even if he had the full breadth of his vocabulary at his disposal.

It was a big feeling. Warm and achy.

“May I try it on?” Konrad asked rather than just telling him outright that he was wrong.

Maybe he’d learned that Jasper was far more agreeable when he was given options. Jasper pulled the vile thing off, hating every moment of it dragging over his skin, and tentatively held it out. Konrad put it on without fanfare or any indication that he minded how it clung to him tighter than the gloves Jasper wore at work.

He held out his sweater, and Jasper hesitated with his hand just shy of the bundle of garnet cashmere. He searched Konrad’s face for annoyance, or even thoughtfulness, like he might have just had the epiphany of oh, he’s that autistic. No thank you. Check please. It would be a dramatic thought if Jasper hadn’t repeatedly seen the difference in partners accepting his needs and actually having to work with them.

Konrad just waited. Jasper took his sweater and put it on, shivering in relief at the soft cashmere falling over his body. It smelled like Konrad. He felt like he was going to cry. Sure, he shouldn’t have to throw himself at someone’s feet in gratitude for making simple accommodations for him, but it was something he’d so rarely experienced.

Konrad simply took his problem and solved it without making Jasper feel like the problem that needed solving.

“Would you like to go inside?” Konrad asked.

Jasper nodded. He didn’t want to keep Hiyori and Amara waiting, and he no longer felt like he was wearing sandpaper. He got out of the car and silently reached for Konrad’s hand as they crossed the parking lot. Konrad rolled up the sleeve of the terrible shirt, then took Jasper’s hand, lacing their fingers together.

He just… rolled his fucking sleeve up. Just the one sleeve. So it wouldn’t touch Jasper.

That big, warm feeling climbed into his throat, compressing smaller and smaller until it took the shape of a word. Something so much easier to understand than that all-encompassing emotion in his chest but all the more terrifying for it.

Jasper took a steadying breath as Konrad held the door open without letting go of his hand. He knew he couldn’t ignore that feeling, but this wasn’t the place to mull it over. He handled emotions as gracefully as one would trip over untied shoelaces.