He pays relatively little attention to himself, in contrast. It is not a show, he does not know how to perform the way Taylor does, but his eyes flick up to meet Delta's. He watches him, watching him, like a feedback of whateve voyueristic pleasure he recieves in seeing those broad fingers working over dark, slick skin.

And then he's shifting upwards, one arm reaching for Delta's leg and hoisting it higher, enough nearly to have the back of his knee resting against his shoulder. Locus leans close, that curtain of dark hair falling over his shoulder as he braces against the bed, still conscious of the body beneath him and wanting to keep every ounce of his focus there.

Be good to him.

Shifting his hips, he brings the slick head of his cock across that tight hole, just rubbing at first before pushing. Testing the give. Letting him adjust to that first taste of just how different this is going to feel, in comparison.