He kisses back, almost immediately. It's hard and full of need and want; unable to stop himself or how desperate he is. It bruises his lips, but Mike doesn't care. This is what he wants. This is what he needs.

It's over and it's not quite teasing but it's not enough and Mike moves his head up to follow before catching himself. It's not like he has time, anyway, because those fingers are dragging down his face and Mike's heart is hammering in his chest.

Fuck. That tone of voice tells him everything else, and he can't meet his gaze as fingers grab his chin. His tone isn't immediately apologetic, but that's because the other called him Mikey.

Again.

"It wasn't pertinent to getting oxy," he states quietly.