Does he? Enjoy restraining Shinjirou? Jade doesn't know. He wishes he could say that he doesn't, that all this is just a job, an elaborate pretence to integrate himself into the upper circles of slavers and buyers - but he can't.

The thoughts take less than a second to run through his mind, and he keeps his expression steady throughout. His eyes betray him, however, flickering away from Shinjirou's before meeting them squarely again. "I suppose it does," he agrees easily.

One of his hands travels up to rest on the back of Shinjirou's head, a crude attempt to distract him from the tells his body had betrayed. Jade is an excellent liar - just not in this area. Not for lack of trying; he simply lacks the experience to do so successfully. It's not often he feels genuine emotion, and even less often that he needs to hide it. Hopefully, his tells were subtle enough that Shinjirou never noticed them in the first place.

For a second, he simply holds Shinjirou, smiling at the way he's peering at the mirror despite having most of his face buried into Jade's neck. It's quite a change from his behaviour just minutes ago. Jade is half-tempted to tease him, but he keeps his remarks to himself for now.

Eventually, though, they'll have to stop, and Jade isn't comfortable with displays of affection anyway. Slowly, he pulls the shirt off with his free hand, allowing it to flutter to the ground.

"Pass me the new shirt." His hand settles on Shinjirou's hip again, his fingers carefully arranged to cover the worst of the bruising.