He feels that curl right along with everything else- a hook of something catching and pulling him to- himself? No. To Locus. This moment is theirs. He? Belongs to Locus. Locus belongs to him. It's a weird, gnarled tangle of emotion and sensation and sentiment he can't help parsing and can only ride out with every tight glide of his lips on Locus's- his- their cock.

Tighter and tighter, swallow after swallow, humming and shuddering, hips rocking against the metal under him until he simply can't bear it anymore but he can't come, caught up so tightly with Locus' pleasure. Can't come, won't come until that groan rips through him like a bullet and lets him finally go boneless.

Unaware if there's anything to swallow- he does all the same. Shudders and laps at Locus' cock to clean it, pulling off with a wet pop and whining at his own oversensitivity.