"M'sorry I ruined it," he exhaled, too aware of the tears that were threatening behind his eyelids. Everything had been going so damned well and then he'd just had to stop and think.

His arms slid down to wrap around Steve's waist - and that... That, at least, he could see as progress. He wasn't freaking out so badly he was pushing Steve away and stalking off. He wasn't yelling, he wasn't snarling old opinions. He was still holding on, still staying close. Using Steve as his anchor, like he always had. Just now, he was big enough to hide behind.

"How about," he said eventually, "we go find that big bed and lay down. Take our shoes off, loosen stuff up. Get comfortable. And we can get the mood back and hope I don't kill it this time."