What starts as a calculated pattern meant to cover as much in as much detail as possible deviates as this or that catches Delta's interest. The rough skin of scar tissue along his ribs, the wiry hair under his navel- the flex and shift of tendon and muscle where leg meets hip before a curious nudge from York has his hand sliding up, palm resting flat against Locus' pectoral, thumb swiping idly back and forth across his nipple.

The smooth assurance of York's movements isn't present. Varying pressure, light, flitting touches until he becomes more settled and confident that he is allowed this, that Locus truly means to give him leave- and even then it is more fingertips and nails than palm and a full bodied lean.