"Yes, of course." The soap slips from Jade's hand into his and he blinks his eyes open again, pulling one leg closer to lather it until bubbles are spread over his skin. Curious, he dips his fingers into one particularly large bruise on the hollow of his knee. Hissing, he tenses for a second. Then he relaxes again and moves over to the other leg.

With Jade's hand on his stomach, he feels safe and placid. Too much. He's nuzzling him, pecking his neck and shoulder, tracing the scar. Jade knows a lot about him -- not everything, thankfully -- but he doesn't know anything about Jade. He knows that there's apparently someone Jade considers a friend, he's gathered as much from the dull business conversation. And that is very vague.

Seeing as he mustn't ask and hearing himself blubber about his desires and fears openly, he fears the gap is going to grow. Jade will learn more about him, without a doubt. Nibbling on his neck, Shinjirou sighs. Maybe it's for the best. "Am I clean enough now?"