"I want you," he breathes, and this time he doesn't have to think about it or second-guess it or over-analyze anything. It's just true and it comes out of him like blood--or like a sigh or laughter. He arches his mouth up and then down again, twisted lips against Neil's perfect ones, still that little edge of teeth melting back into tongue again once he feels like being gentle.

His hand finds Neil's wrist, but he isn't really all that interested in holding onto that kind of control. Not now.

"I just want you," he murmurs, softer. "I'm sick of all that other bullshit getting in the fucking way."