Instinct and habit have Taylor's hips grinding down against Locus' and- this might be going further than he'd anticipated. Yet like this, teeth in his throat, blood on his tongue, he can't complain. He wants this. Knowing that it pleases Locus, feeling that sharp connection between them alive with pleasure. It's good and all he has ever wanted to be for someone? Is good.

This makes it easier, drinking lightly of him as their hips roll together, knowing that every blissful sigh he'd had before? Is now caught in Locus' throat.