"Nervous and self-doubting and neurotic," he says, laughing, "Funny how that sums me up pretty perfectly in three words, even though you're referring to yourself. So I definitely won't try to play it cool, even if I were capable of playing it cool, because I wouldn't want you to be those things. Well, more of those things."

They do have certain similarities, he recognizes, and he finds it strange that he can appreciate those similarities, because he often finds his own nervousness and self-doubt irritating, but when he sees it in Ned, he finds it charming somehow. He likes that Ned isn't cool, just like him, and that he seems to have no interest in being cool. It takes a lot of the pressure off, where there might otherwise be a huge amount of pressure.

He understands why Ned is so eager to lock the door, appreciates the concession towards privacy, but immediately begins to feel nervous as soon as he turns to look at Ned once the door is locked, because, after all, this is only the second time he's done anything like this, and the first time, he could always blame how forward he'd been on the alcohol. Now, it's the middle of the day, and they've talked about it, and there's no excuse for impulsivity. It reassures him, a little, that they're obviously both interested in each other, attracted to each other, and before he has time to think about it or start panicking about it, he steps closer to Ned, stands on tiptoe, and kisses him.