[ What... is he doing, exactly?! Percival's eyes grow as wide as saucers as Vane continues pressing further, truly testing the limits of what one man could put up with. His entire body flushes with color, his body immediately responding to the feel of his strong hands exploring him. The rough movements send shivers down his spine, enough to make his pants begin to grow uncomfortably tight. Vane, at least to Percival's compromised state, is being absolutely shameless, and his mind races with alarm. ]
What the hell are you doing?! Get your hands off of me!
[ He means this to be a threat, but rather than his usual angry exclamation, the statement begins with a small gasp and ends with an involuntary moan. This is the part where he should be pulling away, slapping Vane's hands away, possibly even punching him. Instead, all he can do is grip Vane's wrist tightly. It takes every bit of effort to pry himself away, practically dragging the other man behind him. ]
We're GOING HOME. [ If nothing else, because they're in public. This is unseemly and humiliating, and he at least needs some private space to try and sort himself out. ]
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What the hell are you doing?! Get your hands off of me!
[ He means this to be a threat, but rather than his usual angry exclamation, the statement begins with a small gasp and ends with an involuntary moan. This is the part where he should be pulling away, slapping Vane's hands away, possibly even punching him. Instead, all he can do is grip Vane's wrist tightly. It takes every bit of effort to pry himself away, practically dragging the other man behind him. ]
We're GOING HOME. [ If nothing else, because they're in public. This is unseemly and humiliating, and he at least needs some private space to try and sort himself out. ]