He didn't think the moment could get any more intense--but he's seeing white as his head is wrenched down for that kiss. He makes no attempt at all to control his volume now, letting the noise spill into their connected mouths, entrenched in the bliss washing over him. Pratt's surprising strength pinning him in place makes him forget the very last shreds of his restraint. Fuck his weak knees, fuck any sense of propriety, he clings to Pratt like his life hangs in the balance until he's completely milked dry. And even after, he's whimpering against Pratt's mouth, panting like he's just run a marathon. If Pratt lets him go now, he's likely to drop like a sack of potatoes.