The sound he makes is something like a moan and a laugh bleeding into each other, arching slightly and curling a hand around the back of Neil's neck. It's not like Spike. It's soft, gentle, no real bloodflow--and yet it's deeper. "I miss my garden," he breathes, fingers working through the hair at Neil's nape.

"And it means what it fucking means. I want you. All of you. What I did to you tonight, I wanna be the only lucky motherfucker who gets to do that."

He raises his head slightly, eyes dark. "The one guy I woulda made an exception for... he's not here."