It's a momentarily momentous feeling for his name - the one he remembered had been given to him by his parents - to be cushioned so neatly upon Enver's tongue. Noteworthy in how his mind seems to latch on to a feeling not too dissimilar from the other man's. Fleeting memories of his opposite number's name on his own lips. To have his own spoken aloud now by somebody he thinks he would have shared it with first, had they been together, feels briefly rapturous.

"I enjoy the way it sounds when you say it," he confesses easily, not all too interested in trying to play anything as reserved or not as affected as he is. Very simply, he does not imagine a moment where he wouldn't want to share his delight in this.

It feels like there is so much to catch up on, but he can barely contain his need to step in closer and do away with the last remaining moonlight between them.

"Enver, I..."

It's not so much hesitation as a pause as he feels a wave of emotion start to crest inside him. How close to devastation they had skirted in more than just a plan now aborted. Beyond that. He can hardly keep the significance of this moment to a manageable level.

He should ask - he knows that - but the moment calls for nothing less than the way he lifts his free hand and curls it around the back of the shorter man's neck. Stepping in, he presses his forehead to Enver's and, if he's allowed, dips down just enough to seal their mouths together in a chaste kiss.