The guilt lingers. There is a long measure of silence. He holds him as long as he need to, as long as he wants him, not letting him go, rubbing his back to give him solace as he trembles and shakes, stroking his hair, and reassuring that he truly wanted him. He's doing whatever he can to comfort him.

"Let me make it up to you. Come to the bed, and I'll make you some tea for your nerves. Then we can do whatever you want. I am yours, I belong to you."

Even so, he has to heal what was broken inside, for him to process, and he hopes he does this holding him, and firmly staying with him.