Felix had a moment of stumbling. One where he was more than ready to let Wolf keep pulling, to let this go further than he was really ready for. But he finally put his hand on top of Wolf’s gently pulling it away. His cheeks were flushed, the heat of their touching making him warmer than usual. He slowly moved to sit next to Wolf, waiting until the other man made eye contact before he spoke.
“I’m not… ready for that. I’m sorry,” he said, and he looked it. He wasn’t able to keep Wolf’s gaze for long, and soon he was actually trying to shift and hide what had been caused by all that rubbing, discreetly using his legs and hands. It didn’t help much, not as he ran his other hand through his mess of curls, biting his lower lip and looking at Wolf. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, hoping that he hadn’t just screwed up all over again. What if Wolf was mad that they weren’t going down that road? Sure, Felix would have loved to have sex… but he didn’t know Wolf, not in that way.
“It’s not you,” he began to say, shifting uncomfortably. “It’s me, I’m just trying to keep that for when I’m with someone special,” he said, the liquor making his tongue wag a lot more than it ought to have been.