"Woah, woah," he says, alarmed now more than anything else. It occurs to him that whoever he is, he's used to being unexpectedly kissed. "Why are you apologizing?"

A muscle-memory gesture that isn't his, a lingering residue: he touches Zerxus's temple, then his cheek, then brushes his thumb across the man's lower lip.

His eyes go wider. "--Sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"

He finally takes a half-step back, trying to give Zerxus space without overbalancing himself.