It's all coming back. Or a lot of it is. More than before. He's had flashes of things before now, some of it intense enough to get him painfully hard--fucking Tom, not just Neil--but this is so much. When he licks a long, swirling trail up from the base his moan is a little pained.

"Jesus," he hisses, in between swipes of his tongue around the head. "I fucking missed how you taste." And in again, like he's ravenous. Starving.