Dante was willing to forgive him, anyway. So it didn't really matter in the end, did it?

He took to this in earnest, drawing Ezra in deep, then backing off, and repeat. His hand slid back up Ez's chest to play with a nipple and just touch skin, appreciate all the muscle packed away behind that pale skin.

He shut his eyes and let himself enjoy the sensation, from his own motions to the grip on his hair.