The fabric... sensation is not so much soft as it is silky to the point of negation, a texture in absentia. The ghost of a fleece past, if you want to be tacky and obvious about it.

And Dirk goes very, very still.

"Uh."

Wow.

Damn.

This isn't fucking uncomfortable or nothing. No specific tactile resemblance to certain materials with a distinct conditioned physiological response.

Good fucking thing he knows how to deal with that. Surreptitiously. Holy fuck.

"You gonna get that, or am I expected to do both that and remind you that canon isn't dead myself?"

He feels like he's about to absolutely fucking lose it, with "it" in this case meaning either his sanity or his extremely frayed, bare-wire patience for what is already testing the former.

Clench a certain group of muscles. Release. Redirect the blood flow. Act fucking normal.