"Yeah," he breathes, feeling himself uncoiling under the touch, letting it happen... ignoring the fact that it might not be a couple months. That it might be longer. That nothing feels certain anymore, that the few things he thought he was sure of are melting away like ice in a spring thaw--and what's under the ice?

Anything that can still grow?

He lets out a quiet noise and tilts his head, tongue flicking against the skin of Neil's throat--tasting, letting all of it pour into his senses, like he's afraid of losing it.

Because he guesses he probably is.

"Neil." He takes a breath, feels suddenly and almost painfully raw. "I want... Fuck me."