Everything throbs, everything aches, but it's the best ache in the world. Some of it gnaws and crackles and some of it has already melted into a warm wave that laps over his senses, and he gives a pleased hum when those lips slide across his pulse.

It all still feels hypersensitive, even now. The air, the feel of skin on skin, all of it, and that could be why Felix hasn't piped up yet. Going from feeling nothing to feeling this much, and not regulating it? It's no wonder he popped.

Meanwhile, Locus is content to hold and be held, to nuzzle quietly into the crown of Taylor's head and inhale deeply. That. That had been.