"Yeah, don't have time to tease," he agrees, wrapping his fingers around the base of Neil's cock and closing his lips around the head in a single, relatively smooth motion, sliding down quick and hard. Like always it's a blast to his senses, taste and texture and heat and scent, blood thrumming under his fingers and on his tongue and a sense of control that's even more welcome now than it used to be.

But he can also close his eye now, not look at Neil looking at him. Letting Neil watch like this feels like a hill he's crested and is speeding down the other side of. Meeting that gaze is just too much.

But now, as he bobs his head and moans in the base of his throat, letting the salty-sweet taste of precome slide over his tongue, he thinks maybe it won't always be like that.