The voice. It struck him then, staring at the other man, why that voice was familiar. Why it was so intimately familiar, in that he could hear it in his ear, close and warm and aroused. He could hear it telling him how it had come about by cruelty, that molted skin, and how it hadn't always been this way.
Well fuck.
Kirk let out a laugh, eyes sweeping up and down Wade, reaching out to brush delicate, small fingers across the arch of his smooth jaw (rather missing the rougher texture he was used to). ]