He wanted to push it. Wanted to keep murmuring those quiet truths into Booker's ears in any language he could think of, just to make the man acknowledge them. Make him understand that he was loved. Was Nicky his wife? No. Of course not. He'd never try to take that title.

But that didn't mean that Booker was as alone as he'd felt he'd been for all those years.

Instead, he only leaned up to kiss him again, this time letting a little bit of that urgency into it. When he leaned back, that gentle smile was replaced with a small, wicked smirk.

"Every inch of you, hmm? So if I told you that I wanted you down my throat...?"