It shouldn't, but it does, and eventually he will look back at this with the bright light of comprehension illuminating all the dark corners and they will have to talk about this. But that moment will not be tonight and he's not sure he can truly talk right now even if he wanted to. His attention is torn between the bright, sharp pleasure of Phillip's teeth in his skin and the deeper, shuddering type from each thrust in.

He can still feel the lingering darkness around Phillip, but instead of it being something he's consciously accepting, playing around with to see how it makes him feel, at this point he's past caring about it entirely. He's writhing now more than he was when he was playing at something, but there's no thought of it being even a joking struggle anymore-- he just can't stay still, and if he's still got his hands clenched in the sheets near his head it's not pointed anymore so much as he's forgotten how to unclench them, entire conscious mind bent instead on this, the climb towards completion.