His mind was in a fog still, as the other man finished off inside him, then turned him around and cleaned them both up. Something in the back of his mind told him that this was bad, that this was very bad indeed, and that he'd just broken every rule there was. Still he wasn't thinking clearly enough to stop the man from kissing him again, or to stop himself from enjoying it.
That was, until the man said his name and his mind kicked into gear not into his usual self, but into pure panic. His eyes widening, he pushed at the other man (why had he not thought of that before?), his breath coming in pants not from the pleasure but from the unadulterated fear in his system. This wasn't good. This was why he shouldn't have gone to the Red Dragon. Why he should never have set foot in a Wizarding pub at all. It was different when it was Muggles, strangers, no one who would ever see him again. Not that he ever knowingly- Oh god, he might as well never step outside his home again. His life was over.
'I did not need this,' he said, his voice high pitched and panicked, the lie evident for anyone but himself. 'You- you-' He could barely speak from hyperventilating. 'I don't know you!' he said in pure panic. 'How- Why- I-'
He rubbed the tender spot where the other man had bit him, then stared at the man. 'You bit me. Clearly this wasn't my choice. You got me drunk and you bit me and, and- I'm normal. I don't do things like this. I don't- This is not me. It's your fault!'