[Theo sighs - predictably - as they nurse their way through the kiss, nipping gently at Oliver's lower lip any time it seems he might pull away. The fingers entwining is like a little pinch in his chest, a memory that feels real again, even if Oliver doesn't remember all the other times they met like this. Every touch that only now resides in Theo's mind as a memory, relived in little bits and pieces on days like this.
no subject
It feels the same. He feels the same.]