Oh. This is out of his hands the moment Vax'ildan grabs his shirt. Percy cannot ignore the rush of arousal and this--this is not the time for that. But it is impossible to ignore how Vax feels this close, and how those words sound spilling from his mouth. Percy's lips part, but for a moment he can't summon any words.

"Vax'ildan..."

It isn't quite a question, and it isn't a protest. His heart is pounding and he feels his face suffuse with heat. He tries to think of anything outside of this space, outside of this room, but his entire world is rapidly narrowing to the man standing in front of him.