“Hold on—Babe—.. Fucking stop.”

The moment the words left Kevin’s mouth, he could immediately feel the weight of guilt settle in his chest. His hands instinctively reached for yours, pulling them away from the clasp of his supe suit. You were so close to undressing him, close enough for him to feel that spark of intimacy he’d been craving. But now, with a flicker of hesitation, he felt like he needed to take a step back.

He didn’t know why he’d suddenly changed his mind. After all, you had been nothing but understanding and patient with him. You’d never made him feel judged or rushed, and that comfort had allowed him to be open with you. Still, the moment felt overwhelming, and he couldn’t shake the wave of doubt that hit him.

His fingers gripped the fabric of his suit nervously, not knowing what to say next, but the look on your face told him everything. The confusion, the slight hurt, the questions—you weren’t angry, but there was that flicker of disappointment. And the guilt washed over him even more intensely, making his stomach churn.

“It’s not you…” he began, his voice soft and apologetic, the words spilling out clumsily. “I just… Thought I was ready, but… I’m not.”

He looked into your eyes, trying to convey that it wasn’t about you at all, but the wave of vulnerability crashing over him made it hard to express. He wasn’t used to this, the idea that someone would care about him enough to respect his boundaries. Usually, in his world, people didn’t care about that sort of thing—so why did it feel different with you?