No, because I'm going to do it again after we have our little ceremony. [He proudly proclaims this as the absolute fact it is. No getting out of your husband having his proper - and agreed to! - wedding night, Dorian.

He pauses all forward momentum when the younger immortal takes his face between his hands to look at him. Toby's in a rush to get to all the best parts, but getting the chance to really see Dorian like this is... Heaven, of a sorts. It's at least the exact opposite of Hell, and that's what matters. A smile comes to his face as he returns the touch with a brush of fingers across his man's warm cheek, and then he's being pulled into a kiss that takes all metaphorical breath away from him.

God he's missed this. He's missed these lips and being in these arms. His arms wrap around Dorian instantly, sending them tipping back onto the bed as he presses their lips together over and over again. Somewhere in the mess he parts his lips and finds his lover's tongue with his own to dance with it again, and it's perfect. The kind of perfect they had every time they kissed and enjoyed each other's bodies on Earth or here in Duplicity. The kind of perfect poets try to write about and fail at, because they're all too mortal to know what a love like this actually is.

That smile's still on his face when they part again for a breath, and he's pleasantly surprised to find he's pulled his fiancé atop him. He brushes a few stray curls from the man's face, then leans up for another, softer, but still entirely perfect kiss.]

I love you so much, Dorian Gray. You can't even begin to know how much I've missed you.