Thinking about what it is he needs is momentarily a stretch, his mind addled by the pleasant sensation of feeling metaphorically but firmly cradled in somebody else's palms in a surprisingly safe way. Tyler assumes everybody has way more experience than he does just by how little he really has to his own name. But the ease the other man is projecting just seems to solidify that assumption.

He can feel the way he's seemingly melting into the shorter man's hands just at the idea of doing anything obscene. Another thread of arousal seems to anchor itself to his core.

"It's not that, I just... don't really know what I'm doing?"