That was not what had bothered him. Dabbing away blood was one thing, stroking his cheek another, especially when he slept - or any time. He was in no mood for this, for these subtle games of touch, reminding him what Felix and Gideon had once shared, a thing that might still be there and he hated thinking about.

"I meant stroking his cheek. It is in appropriate," he said, keeping his hands at his side, lips thin.