His throat burned. But if his body could complain like that, then it meant that he was better. Right then, anything that reminded him that he had a body and that he was real was better. Wolfram dragged in a breath to steady himself when he felt the hand against his face. It grounded him.
And then he remembered the he had lips. That he could feel them. That he could use his hands and arms. Somehow, they had ended up kneeling on the floor, holding on to each other to weather the storm of memories. Wolfram felt that hunger for closeness and heat and let himself relax into the kiss. Kisses. There was a bubble of protest at that––this was undeniably a man he was holding in his arms. But the need–– That was stronger. Wolfram could still remember the pain and the heartache. A hollow coldness was always wrapped tightly around Tao. Wolfram had hated it when he'd felt it in the memory, and knowing that he could chase it away, even if temporarily, he couldn't let go.
No, he wrapped his arms around the vampire instead. His body curled, gathering as much of Tao in his embrace as was possible, draping all that heat around him. Tugging on the vampire's hair, Wolfram leaned in and dragged the vampire into another kiss. It was filled with need and a passion that was almost desperate. He wanted his mouth: lips, tongue, teeth. Everything. He drew the vampire's bottom lip between his teeth, sucked on it, then pressed his tongue past lips. Exploring. Hungry for contact. His free hand was splayed in the middle of the vampire's back, pulling him in close against his body. Protective.