At that point he had to consciously remind himself not to tense. It wasn't bad, and he had been through much worse pain, but Locke wasn't too fond of pain anyway. (Not quite Weiler's or his cup of tea.) The distraction of outside noise helped a little, and he wondered how close the new year was, but was still too focused to even glance at the clock.

"Still fine," he said, one hand lightly gripped in the sheets to place his tension elsewhere. But, surprisingly, pleasure struck first. Weiler's exploring wasn't without results, Locke's breath hitching when his fingers pressed up. It couldn't have been pain - unless that did turn out to be Locke's cup of tea after all - considering the twitch of his erection at the contact. He breathed out a surprised, "Ah."