He melts back a bit, when Jefferson steps up behind him. His heart pounds a bit, his palms damp, when those hands come down on his waist, and he meets Jefferson's eyes in the mirror. He can still feel the stickiness of Jefferson's come, but this somehow feels more intimate. This touching, this desire to be close when there is no sexual gratification to be gained. Jefferson palms him and Burr lets out a blissful little sigh, pushes back against him, let's his head bump back against his chest.

He likes when Jefferson explains these things to him. Likes Jefferson liking him, wanting to be near him, to teach him. Jefferson steps back when Mulligan enters, and Burr feels a little pang of loss, but likes too the innocence of it, when just before Jefferson had him bent backwards.

"I think Jefferson likes these ones," Burr says, "If they can be made a little shorter," and will have no shyness regarding taking them off now, to change back into his regular pants, if the tailor is not to leave.

He feels better now. More self assured, by Jefferson's open want. By how well Burr controls him.