Work Text:
I’m not sure that you understand my impatience, Peralta, so I will do what I can to enlighten you.
No, no, for once I am not surprised at your bafflement—many are at first confused by my excitement over this bedding-related ritual. People often underestimate the sensuality of linen. Many a man is cowed by the mere concept of expressing affection via the delicate folds of the fitted sheet (1000 thread count, minimally, of course).
Kevin, of course, is a man of exquisite taste. And thus, our ritual:
Every six months, Kevin surprises me with a brand new set of sheets. Not just any sheets, mind you; sheets from an Italian company. This company is known for its particular shade of blue-gray. The precise hue is slightly more gray than blue, but it is the hint of blue which makes these sheets risqué.
We have owned 22 and a half sets of these sheets. The half set was a shipping error; they accidentally sent us white pillowcases. Fortunately, they were very understanding of our distress and remedied the error immediately.
He orders them at the end of a semester. They always arrive on the first Monday of his break. Mondays are important evenings in our households, being as it is the start of the work week and thus the evenings in which we are most passionate and excited.
These sheets… If I were to tell you these sheets are a gift from the gods, much like the soft, fluffy clouds of Mount Olympus itself, that would be understating their quality. You could not find a more considerate present for your significant other, I assure you. It would be far too personal for me to suggest that you invest in a pair of these sheets, but I’m sure Kevin would be more than willing to give you their phone number.
Yes, the company is in Italy, Peralta. The sheets are Italian . Yes, we call them on the phone. Long distance—why on earth would Kevin use a website to order? Rocco has run their customer service for a decade now and is always pleased to hear from us.
Where was I? Ah yes, Monday arrivals. Typically speaking, Kevin is home all day to receive the package, assuming that he has had the opportunity to purchase the ingredients for our… bedding bonanza, if you will. By the time that I am off of work, our meal is almost ready— two bottles of wine, one white, one red for the special occasion. I have approximately 20 minutes to ready myself for dinner before food is served, lest it become cold.
After dinner, we clean up and prepare for the rest of the evening. And this, Peralta, is the pinnacle of my season. The height of our romance. The zenith of our pleasure, if you will. And I would, if I were you.
On the first Monday of Kevin’s break from university, we remake our bed with the finest Italian sheets. Together. We stretch the fitted across, me adjusting his corners, and he adjusting mine. We smooth the sheet down, spritzing it with the most elegantly-scented lavender linen spray—not too much, because too much would stain the delicate threadwork.
After we allow that to air dry, we unfold the next sheet. Occasionally, we take a moment to mutually admire the craftwork, how our hands glide across the 100% pure cotton of it all. This is Kevin’s favorite part, or so he tells me.
Now normally, we use one of two blankets on our bed, but for the donning of the new set, we have a special dark blue comforter, one which we purchased early on in these rituals. You see, we didn’t own one of the exact complementary blue.
To my uniform, Peralta. Not the sheets. Obviously.
If the precinct—and I do really mean you, Peralta—has been too taxing that day, Kevin allows me to sit on the nearby armchair while he performs my favorite part of the ritual. The fluffing of the pillows.
Do you know how important a well-fluffed pillow is, Peralta? Do you know the kind of bliss, the kind of joy one gets from watching the head of their loved one slowly lay upon the sinking softness of a well-kept pillow? If you do not, you cannot possibly understand how enraptured one becomes while watching their loved one prep for this.
It is then that we sleep, Jake Peralta. If all has gone according to plan, it is exactly 9:45pm. So you see, it is vitally important that you finish your pair work and leave it on my desk promptly this evening, so that I may sign off on it and go to bed. On proper sheets.
What—why, might I ask, are you so relieved? What on earth did you think I was explaining to you?