He spun around and spotted Vincent at the top of the stairs, dressed in sweats, his hair tousled. “Did you just wake up?” he asked, grinning as he hopped up the stairs. He balanced against the banister as he leaned up for a kiss, only a little surprised when Vincent granted him one that tasted like toothpaste.
“I fell asleep.”
“Bad sign when cooking tires you out,” he said, his laugh turning into a moan when Vincent groped him in response. “How long until dinner’s done?” he asked, hoping they had time for a quickie at least.
“It’s done. It’s keeping warm in the oven,” Vincent replied, slipping his hands under Jasper’s shirt.
He moaned and stepped onto the landing. “So we can work up an appetite first?”
Vincent’s lips twitched as he nudged Jasper into the bedroom. “Mm,” he said, backing Jasper into the dresser with a few kisses against his neck.
A surprised yelp escaped him when Vincent grabbed the backs of his thighs and lifted him onto the dresser. Mmm. Good height. He grinned and buried both hands in Vincent’s hair, mussing it even further. He leaned in for another kiss, only to pull back in confusion when Vincent didn’t return it. He started to ask what was wrong, but the expression on Vincent’s face made the words die in his throat.
That wasn’t a “ready for sexy times” expression. Usually that kind of look preceded some sort of serious conversation that tended to end with everything blowing up in his face. “I’m sorry,” he said, panic fluttering in his chest. Fuck. No way was he getting dumped now after the shitfest of a week he’d already gone through.
Vincent pulled back, brow somehow furrowing even further. “For what?”
Jasper shrugged. “Whatever I did that pissed you off.”
“You didn—” Vincent started, but he stopped and let out a slow breath. He shook his head, his fingers flexing against Jasper’s hips as he took another breath. Then he reached back and pulled off his T-shirt, hesitating once it was over his head, before pulling it off completely and tossing it onto the dresser.
It took Jasper a moment to clue in enough to realize what it meant that Vincent was standing shirtless in front of him. His eyes dropped to Vincent’s chest and the elaborate scarring there with a soft, “Oh shit.” He vividly remembered the feel of those scars, rough and too smooth by turns, and he knew how gnarly burn scars could be, but seeing them with his own eyes was different.
He followed the angry red pattern of thick spiderwebbing with his eyes, medical curiosity distracting him for the moment. He tilted his head when he spotted a faint curved scar near Vincent’s ribs. He slid his hand down and lightly traced a fingertip over it. “Skin graft?” he asked, glancing up when Vincent let out a shaky breath.
“Yeah.”
“They did a pretty good job.” He wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t known what one looked like.
More noticeable was the tension practically thrumming through Vincent’s entire body. It wasn’t anger at least, but it still didn’t bode well, and not only because it meant little chance of getting lucky. He considered ignoring it and trying to seduce Vincent again, but that felt like a dick move. Even if they weren’t in any kind of relationship, this was still something he couldn’t simply shrug off.
With a sigh, he slid his palms up Vincent’s chest, winding his arms around his shoulders again. “Are you okay?”
Vincent gave a neutral “Mm,” in response, eyes fixed on Jasper’s chest, but he didn’t pull away.
He leaned back, brushing a thumb against the faint shadow beneath Vincent’s eye. “Have you not been sleeping?”
“I’m fine,” Vincent replied, finally moving enough to flick Jasper’s fingers away.
It was on the tip of his tongue to sayIf you were fine, you’d be fucking me right now, but he bit the words back. He dropped his hands and braced them on the edge of the dresser, clamping his mouth shut against the hurt until it flared into irritation instead.
“Liar,” he muttered, bracing himself when Vincent tensed. Panic slammed through his chest again, but he breathed through it, tightening his grip on the dresser to keep from running for the door. He was far too close to Vincent for that anyway, and his instincts knew it. Better to stay as still as possible and try to keep his mouth shut.
Confronting someone rarely turned out well for him, but he was getting better at it since moving in with Amber. It helped not being near his sperm donor anymore.
“They don’t bother me,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to Vincent’s scars again, “if that’s what’s got you so on edge.” Why Vincent even bothered to show him was a mystery. Not like seeing them changed their contract.
Vincent shifted back half a step and dragged his fingers through his hair. “I could have handled that better.”
Jasper shrugged, not about to deny that. He’d already reached his limit by calling Vincent out.
“Sorry,” Vincent said, resting his hands on Jasper’s knees. “I had to know if it was going to be a problem.”
Why would it be a problem? Jasper kept his mouth shut since he didn’t know what the fuck he should say to that. He was pretty sure the offer to work up an appetite was off the table now, but this also didn’t feel like something that should be a concern. They weren’t dating, and their contract only had a few more weeks.
He straightened a bit as that really sank in. He didn’t have much to lose at this point. “Make you a deal. I won’t let the scars bother me if you don’t let my clinginess bother you.”
Vincent’s lips tugged into a frown. “You haven’t been clingy.”
