There's that sweet, soft edge to it, ringing all the affection. Something more than all their tender moments have been, and they've had a few. Harry taking him out and trying to make him laugh, indulging his rambling with a tender look in his eyes. This is something else, this edge of softness in Harry's touch and kiss, and Neil doesn't want to ruin it with words.

He twines his arms around him, holding him close. It's easy to tangle up with him, to breathe gently between kisses and let the warmth of his body sink into him.

"I'm here," he finally whispers, because it seems like something they both need to have voiced. "I'm here."