He sees that searching stare, despite York's abashed appearance. He seems repentant enough, but there's a gleam in his eye that says he'd want more, if allowed. Like his fingers are itching to move, his lips prepared to--

Locus's eyes narrow slightly. "Such as?" He's still regaining his bearings, the world still spinning slightly and that roiling want still burning under his skin, but he'll be damned if it gets the better of him without his permission.