And what Felix feels isn't just the physical sensation. No. It starts with that smile, the heavy warmth curling in Locus's chest, that--

Locus's teeth suddenly grit together, one hand landing on Taylor's shoulder to hold himself steady, gasping roughly between his teeth as that last knuckle slipped in, and it was so much. Too much. He could focus on nothing but that swell of pressure, inescapable, and his hips shifted in an effort to adjust, to work around it, to do anything at all.

"Motherfucker." This from Felix, who was reeling too, but working Locus's cock to keep him hard, keep him sharp. Keep both of them on as even a keel as they could manage.