Slowly, he lifts his hand out of the water, running it gently up the side of Paul's neck and very carefully avoiding the comparatively pale twin scars (he knows all about scars that you can or can't touch, and he's particular about obliging unspoken rules like that).

His thumb brushes Paul's uncharacteristically stubbled cheek, eyes moving over his face for a moment. Then he leans in, might even be taking liberties here but he can't be damned, pressing his lips to the cheek opposite.

There are so many things he could say right now. But there's only one thing he really wants to.

"You'd better start abusing lip balm or something so I can give you a proper welcome." Good to have you back.