If Phillip were the one actually being pushed out of his mind by the device, it is entirely possible that he would be making some confessions he would regret later (not because he didn't mean them, but because he's not quite ready to admit it). But he's not, so even though he can feel the intensity of this, is swept up in the wave of that connection just as much, he's still able to keep his mouth shut. It's not like it's not true. They are connected, somehow, found each other again after all those years and their natures should make them enemies. There has to be something there. Doesn't there?

He cradles the man's face when that orgasm hits, kissing him tenderly, soothingly in the midst of their pleasure. "That's good," he murmurs, more nonsense than actual words, "you're so good--" It feels impossible to stop, hips rocking them together again and again. He likely actually comes first, having had the time to recover, spilling into the body beneath him, but even that doesn't make him inclined to stop, perhaps just slowing for a minute instead. He doesn't want it to be over, though. He doesn't want this to end.