He doesn't slow his pace to a stop purposefully, but it happens anyway as he feels Ned cling to him and shake like that, as he watches Ned's face and hears the noise that comes out of his mouth, something wonderful and completely inexplicable in all of that. He wonders, for a moment, if he's allowed to feel any pride at all that he'd been the one to make Ned feel that way, that it's him that's worthy of being clung to and shouted over. But at the moment, he's not thinking so clearly, anyway, not with his eyes intent upon Ned's face like that.

"W-what... what do I do now?" he asks, and he knows it's a dumb question, because he should be able to figure it out from here, shouldn't he? But he's gotten so used to Ned's instruction, somehow expected to be walked all the way through it, and all he seems capable of doing right now is staring reverently at Ned and running his hands up and down Ned's chest like he wants to touch every inch of free skin available. He's not even moving.