This is too much. For a brief moment he wants to pull away; it rises up out of him with an intensity that startles him, comes close to making him worry, and for a second or two he almost does, because it's too much. Too intense. He's too naked, too raw--he shouldn't have asked for this.

But there's no going back now. And after another moment of it, he doesn't even remember wanting to stop. Neil's hand is sweet torture, his mouth the same, and he rocks up to meet each thrust, gasping things that might or might not be words.

And he's so far past feeling guilty now.