Damon frowned, not immediately answering. “Where’s the jacket I gave you?” he asked after a moment, apparently deciding on ignoring Micah’s question all together.

Micah fought the urge to shuffle awkwardly. It hadn’t occurred to him to leave behind the man’s suit jacket in El Taco Rosa’s men’s room, so it’d ended up at his apartment. He’d felt pretty guilty about it considering it was probably worth more than his monthly paycheck. Not guilty enough that he hadn’t pressed it to his face a time or two to get a whiff of its owner’s uniquely masculine scent, however. (It’s not like he masturbated as he did it, or anything, okay? He wasn’t a complete pervert.)

“It’s… at home,” he decided on eventually. “I’ll get it back to you, I swear!” he added quickly after. “I’m not some thief.”

The opposite of one, actually. His job often involved returning stolen merchandise to its proper owner.

Damon looked constipated at Micah’s impassioned defense of himself. “I don’t want it back.”

Micah frowned. “Why?” Then he felt his shoulders tense as the probable reason occurred to him. “Afraid I ruined it with my filthiness? That I let some john ejaculate all over-”

“No,” Damon snapped, looking ruffled for possibly the first time he’d met him, and Micah couldn’t help but feel a bit of satisfaction at that. “I just wanted to know why you weren’t wearing it. Or a hat for that matter. It’s cold out here – colder than it was the last time I saw you.”

Honestly, what was it going to take to get this guy to stop caring so damn much? It was making some very uncomfortable feelings stir in Micah’s chest. (And groin.)

Still, it was Micah’s job to chase him off, so he rolled his eyes before glancing down and gesturing at his skirt-clad legs. “Yeah, sort of hard to showcase the merchandise in a boxy suit jacket.”

Damon’s eyes followed, and Micah had the pleasure of watching him freeze – like he somehow hadn’t noticed Micah was decked out in a school’s girl skirt until just now. The man’s Adam’s apple bobbed. But just as suddenly as he’d fallen into his stupor, he broke out of it, abruptly taking Micah by the elbow and dragging him forward. “That’s it. You’re coming with me.”

Micah was alarmed (and only a little aroused) by the declaration. Also, he was hit with a strange sense of déjà vu. “What? Hey! You can’t just force people to-”

“You said yourself that you’re freezing,” Damon interrupted, sounding unreasonably… well, reasonable, as he pulled Micah away from where he was supposed to be again. “You need to get out of the cold, get something warm in your stomach.”

“What is your obsession with feeding me?”

“If you fed yourself, it would be a non-issue,” Damon sniped back.

“And what exactly do you think I’m trying to do here?” Micah shouted, finally finding the wherewithal to tug his elbow out of the man’s grip.