[ Once he's out of the suit completely, then Locus does break the kiss. There's barely any green left to see in those eyes, dark and heavy and still tense with anger, the fingers in his hair still rigid and unyielding.
And then York is spun about to face the wall of the shuttle, up against cold steel. Locus's teeth find the crook of his shoulder, biting down hard enough to bruise, as his hands slide down the length of his back. The briefest of pauses as he yanks off his gloves, and then there's just heat, warmth, the callous catch of his palms as he grips his hips, squeezes at his ass.
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And then York is spun about to face the wall of the shuttle, up against cold steel. Locus's teeth find the crook of his shoulder, biting down hard enough to bruise, as his hands slide down the length of his back. The briefest of pauses as he yanks off his gloves, and then there's just heat, warmth, the callous catch of his palms as he grips his hips, squeezes at his ass.
Then hauls back and smacks, hard. ]