Weiler whispered Locke's name in stuttered surprise, feeling the man tighten around him with a suddenness that he hadn't quite been expecting either. The hand underneath Locke's body came away slick when he finally removed it after stroking through the ebbing waves of the man's orgasm, and with it came a sense of relief and contentment that he could do this for Locke in another, new way.

As Locke's hips eased back down, Weiler remained with him, still flushed and caught on the slippery edge himself. He licked the excess off his fingers slowly and deliberately, not at all minding the taste as his eyes raked down Locke's form with a smile. With his free hand, he pet down Locke's side, feeling his chest expand and contract with every exaggerated breath.

He leaned down on his hands, either arm bracketing Locke's sides, and began moving again, moving against Locke with short, needy thrusts that felt more like in, in rather than in, out. "Rhys," he muttered, barely an exhale, "Rhys, Rhys."