The dry twist earns a snarl, tugging at Locus's lips hard enough to show teeth, but the expression it melts into is downright sulky. Right. Gotta set up rules and all that bullshit.

They'd never needed them, he silently reminds Locus. They knew each other's limits, they never pushed past what they needed or wanted, but he just loves his goddamn rules, doesn't he?

There are two deep, steadying breaths before he glances askance, obviously annoyed. Finally, he responds. "Osiris."

Mood-killer if there ever was one.