There is a small measure of heat that rises to his features then. Not just at being told how it sounds for him to repeat the name, but also that his mind readily supplies It probably won't be the last time I enjoy saying it either.

But the Dark Urge -- Kael -- says his name, and it strikes him once more how it fees to hear his own name, to hear him say it. Something he's been homesick for, if he would have ever thought to use the word. But he's never missed anything like this.

His breath and his bloodflow are quickening even as the larger man does nothing more than touch the back of his neck. And of course he allows that kiss (he had promised him one after all this was done after all). More than allows it, pushes up to meet it with the abandon and jolting panic of suddenly feeling yourself fall.

It is as the one before, and all those that felt like they were an eternity ago, and they are his. Perfect, sating, and pulling long-dreamed-of-but-suppressed hungers to the surface. But unlike the ones when they were different people: No longer in the privacy of his office. Somewhere open. In the air. Still private in its own way, but free.

He slips a band behind Kael's neck in a mirror of his own gesture.