You didn't fuck up. You're not too weird, it was just--

[His words cut off for a moment, because talking about this shit is difficult for him, even if it's easier with Kavinsky than it would be with anyone else. But he knows that this matters, and he doesn't want him to think he was doing something wrong by asking. So he drags a hand against his scalp, trying to figure out how to put it into words, how to explain.]

I was into it. I like- the idea of you showing me things, I guess. It's sort of hot? But then you backed off, like it was- I dunno. Like you'd been asking out of academic fucking interest, and I made it weird because I wasn't supposed to say yes or some shit.

[He shrugs his shoulders and looks off to the side; he hadn't been upset, he'd been embarrassed. Because K wasn't wrong about Ronan being sensitive, not really. But he doesn't know how to explain it any better, how to put the rest of it into words. Sex and kink weren't always easy for him- but sometimes they're the only thing that is. Sometimes K's hands on him and his collar against his skin are the only way he gets out of his head.]