"God, Scott, yes." Phil bites his lower lip as he lets the orgasm take him. He grips the back of Scott's neck but doesn't force him down as he spills in his mouth. He lets Scott decide if he wants to spit, swallow, or let him come across his face and make a mess.

He needs some sort of anchor point as all logical thought and sense get washed away in the white noise of pleasure and heat.

Phil turns loose limbed and relaxed after his orgasm finishes. He practically melts against the couch and lets his head fall back. Finally he closes his eyes and savors that warm afterglow.

"When you're done feeling smug," he mutters with a small smile. "Come up here and kiss me."