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hypotheses) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
encephalon2014-04-16 05:57 pm
hypotheses) wrote in encephalon2014-04-16 05:57 pm
Entry tags:
gross xeno fuckathon post
♥ hey how u doin lil mama
lemme whisper in ur ear ♥
[His reputation precedes him. Garrus is quiet aside from a quickly silenced grunt of pain as the burn kicks in, contemplating the salarian's words and actions. Doctor Solus clearly knows who he is. Or, at least, what Garrus is going by on the station. But the salarian's never been an ally of the mercs. He's fended them off, kept them from taking over the clinic or taking out any of his patients, and ushered Garrus back here before anyone else could figure out that it's Archangel who has just stumbled in.
There's a tiny bit of relaxation in Garrus' posture as he processes this info and accepts the pills. It's alright. The salarian knows, and it's still alright. And while the pain's not unbearable, and is even at the edge of something he could certainly go for under other circumstances, Garrus swallows the pills.
The almost-question gets a snort.]
As if we'd let any of them get away. It was slavers again, this time after the runaway population. And the ones that didn't show up to the ambush are gonna be seeking revenge, so I'm not sure how I'm gonna be avoiding fire fights.
[He can't send his people in and not be there with them. They're a team.]
I'll do my best, and I'm glad nothing's seriously messed up, but we're gonna have trouble headed our way in a day or two here. Soon as they get organized.
[And if the mercs were smart, they'd go and get the Blue Suns involved. Some of those slaves had been intended for the Suns. That'd mean more firepower for these remnants, and it could be a more complicated fight. But Garrus' squad would take care of them.]
Keep an eye out for the Suns. They're gonna be on edge here.
[The loss of a few slaves isn't going to really trip up the Suns, but they'd probably be a bit more touchy for a few days.]
What do I--ugh.
[He'd been stupid and hopped back up to his feet as if he'd be fine. Not even Chakwas was ever that fast. Garrus puts a hand out to stabilize himself as the blood loss decides to make itself known again and he blinks back the spots in his vision.]
Uh. Owe. What do I owe you?
[He's totally fine.]
There's a tiny bit of relaxation in Garrus' posture as he processes this info and accepts the pills. It's alright. The salarian knows, and it's still alright. And while the pain's not unbearable, and is even at the edge of something he could certainly go for under other circumstances, Garrus swallows the pills.
The almost-question gets a snort.]
As if we'd let any of them get away. It was slavers again, this time after the runaway population. And the ones that didn't show up to the ambush are gonna be seeking revenge, so I'm not sure how I'm gonna be avoiding fire fights.
[He can't send his people in and not be there with them. They're a team.]
I'll do my best, and I'm glad nothing's seriously messed up, but we're gonna have trouble headed our way in a day or two here. Soon as they get organized.
[And if the mercs were smart, they'd go and get the Blue Suns involved. Some of those slaves had been intended for the Suns. That'd mean more firepower for these remnants, and it could be a more complicated fight. But Garrus' squad would take care of them.]
Keep an eye out for the Suns. They're gonna be on edge here.
[The loss of a few slaves isn't going to really trip up the Suns, but they'd probably be a bit more touchy for a few days.]
What do I--ugh.
[He'd been stupid and hopped back up to his feet as if he'd be fine. Not even Chakwas was ever that fast. Garrus puts a hand out to stabilize himself as the blood loss decides to make itself known again and he blinks back the spots in his vision.]
Uh. Owe. What do I owe you?
[He's totally fine.]
[There's the quietest of noises as his fingers leave her, cut off as quickly as she can manage. Even with the gloves on he's so warm, and Shepard can't stop herself from wondering what all he can do with his clever hands. His whole clever self.
Gods, she wants him, and her cheeks are a brilliant red as she acknowledges that. But acknowledging it is the way to move on. Isn't that what her instructors had always said? For a moment when his fingers leave her and he's talking again Shepard thinks she can get a handle on this. It's even a topic she can discuss.]
I--
[And then Shepard, who had never broken off and fumbled for words before, felt her mind go blank at the slide of his fingers back in. Mordin is searching, as he should, and Shepard's heels dig into the stirrups as she tries to hold herself still, to not make any more noises or make this harder on him.
It's a battle she can't win.
The woman who doesn't surrender and doesn't lose finds herself rocking against that deeper finger and shivering at the press to her belly, momentarily lost in Mordin and the way he can touch. Those fingers are long and slender, stretching her just a little, rubbing and searching. Shepard's nearly certain she could come from just a little more of him, but as soon as that thought hits her, so does reality. This is Doctor Solus, who has already turned her down as politely as possible, and while her intent had been honest and above-board, this is beyond wrong to do to him.]
Shit. You even told me that you weren't into... I'm sorry.
[She's just basically used him, and what's worse is how badly she wishes she could continue, how much she wants him to thrust those fingers inside of her again. Her eyes are closed and her face is burning with shame as well as arousal now.]
I'll go. And I'm so sorry.
[And yet she doesn't make a move to go. She can't. His fingers are inside her, and the last thing she should be doing is jostling them.]
Gods, she wants him, and her cheeks are a brilliant red as she acknowledges that. But acknowledging it is the way to move on. Isn't that what her instructors had always said? For a moment when his fingers leave her and he's talking again Shepard thinks she can get a handle on this. It's even a topic she can discuss.]
I--
[And then Shepard, who had never broken off and fumbled for words before, felt her mind go blank at the slide of his fingers back in. Mordin is searching, as he should, and Shepard's heels dig into the stirrups as she tries to hold herself still, to not make any more noises or make this harder on him.
It's a battle she can't win.
The woman who doesn't surrender and doesn't lose finds herself rocking against that deeper finger and shivering at the press to her belly, momentarily lost in Mordin and the way he can touch. Those fingers are long and slender, stretching her just a little, rubbing and searching. Shepard's nearly certain she could come from just a little more of him, but as soon as that thought hits her, so does reality. This is Doctor Solus, who has already turned her down as politely as possible, and while her intent had been honest and above-board, this is beyond wrong to do to him.]
Shit. You even told me that you weren't into... I'm sorry.
[She's just basically used him, and what's worse is how badly she wishes she could continue, how much she wants him to thrust those fingers inside of her again. Her eyes are closed and her face is burning with shame as well as arousal now.]
I'll go. And I'm so sorry.
[And yet she doesn't make a move to go. She can't. His fingers are inside her, and the last thing she should be doing is jostling them.]
[There is so much stimulation at once, the shaft of him disappearing into the salarian's body, slick wet muscle closing around him. It's different than anything he'd experienced. Anything he's felt around him -- this is the first cloaca he's slipped into, and it's a thought that makes his toes curl, intrigue and pleasure intermingling. Thane struggles to keep his composure, watching the spread of colourful flesh as Mordin slides against his hips, draws him in.
The broken laugh cuts through, and Thane's gaze first lifts toward Mordin's face, at the haze in his expression. It's the most undone he's ever seen the doctor and it sends a prickle of excitement through his lower body. More base parts of himself that revel in how deeply he can pull another being apart. And then he lifts his head, glances back over his shoulder at his lover. A glimpse of him is all he's afforded before the very familiar sensation of Garrus' cock presses up against his backside, the taut hole made damp and soft from their union only moments ago.
Thane tips his head forward again, teeth grazing his own lip as Garrus works into his body, and the momentum has him arching up into Mordin's as well. A sharp breath, the shudder of a tensed spine, the way his eyes slide shut -- it's all on the surface, and his hands are quaking slightly as he grasps at Mordin's form. There is so much assaulting his senses at once that he can scarcely breathe, and on the second exhale a breathy noise he hadn't intended falls just as easily from his throat. So much of it beckons him to lose control, to rock his hips forward and drown, feel himself speared at the same time, filled to the point of bursting. Not yet, he has to remind himself. It's the anticipation that he knows that free reign will come soon -- that's what leaves him struggling for a mental foothold.]
The broken laugh cuts through, and Thane's gaze first lifts toward Mordin's face, at the haze in his expression. It's the most undone he's ever seen the doctor and it sends a prickle of excitement through his lower body. More base parts of himself that revel in how deeply he can pull another being apart. And then he lifts his head, glances back over his shoulder at his lover. A glimpse of him is all he's afforded before the very familiar sensation of Garrus' cock presses up against his backside, the taut hole made damp and soft from their union only moments ago.
Thane tips his head forward again, teeth grazing his own lip as Garrus works into his body, and the momentum has him arching up into Mordin's as well. A sharp breath, the shudder of a tensed spine, the way his eyes slide shut -- it's all on the surface, and his hands are quaking slightly as he grasps at Mordin's form. There is so much assaulting his senses at once that he can scarcely breathe, and on the second exhale a breathy noise he hadn't intended falls just as easily from his throat. So much of it beckons him to lose control, to rock his hips forward and drown, feel himself speared at the same time, filled to the point of bursting. Not yet, he has to remind himself. It's the anticipation that he knows that free reign will come soon -- that's what leaves him struggling for a mental foothold.]
[ Inconsiderable though it may be compared to Thane's dense musculature, Mordin's total weight sinks into the solid support of both men before him; braced against Garrus, Thane will be either a bulwark or a domino as a sinewy leg stretches past them both, hooking at the sole on one of Garrus's spurs. The degree to which Mordin feels full of Thane continues to take him by surprise, but call him nothing if not a fast learner. He squirms down hard, impaled further with a filthy sort of determination, and even Garrus's hot clawed fingers are cool relief against his horn when his forehead falls against Thane's shoulder and it ends up pointing at him accusingly. There's something of a blind grope for Thane's hip to lock him in deeper, wanting, and then he finds Thane's skin is serpentine-smooth and ever-so-slightly numbing at his neck where he's—completely by virtue of instinct, mind you—dragged his tongue over just shy of the beginning of his frills. ]
Probably inadvisable. Will alert in the event of [ nngh— ] hallucination. Onset. Onset of hallucin—ah...
[ A ragged breath, a roll of hips that pulls Thane's cock partly out only to push back in, to punctuate. His toes flex restlessly over Garrus's spur. ]
Recommend more [ comfortable ] practical position.
[ Beware, gentlemen; seems the good doctor is in real danger of swooning. Not from the venom, either. ]
Probably inadvisable. Will alert in the event of [ nngh— ] hallucination. Onset. Onset of hallucin—ah...
[ A ragged breath, a roll of hips that pulls Thane's cock partly out only to push back in, to punctuate. His toes flex restlessly over Garrus's spur. ]
Recommend more [ comfortable ] practical position.
[ Beware, gentlemen; seems the good doctor is in real danger of swooning. Not from the venom, either. ]
[ For a second, thanks to the barrier between them, the only thing Mordin gives Shepard is his silence. Which must be uncomfortable, at best. It's a measured couple beats, though, and even as she's apologizing he's withdrawing his fingers in a manner more practiced than eager. Her response... entirely inappropriate, he knows, probably technical breach of protocol, abuse of authority as commanding officer, but yet—
Idea in itself breach of propriety. Occurs to him, though, that Cerberus command's standards of propriety somewhat looser than Alliance, Union, Council. Shepard's own standards as well (only thing loose about her, too). Had let her down gently before. If wanted to try human, would try you. But maybe shift in parameters. Maybe want to try human. Maybe already is.
His mouth seems to have gone a little dry. He hadn't considered that something as simple as this could be enough for her. It almost strikes him as... doable. Moral gray area, perhaps, but not at all grayer than the things he's done in his life already. Very well. First things first. Elephant in room. He shifts up to look her in the eye, very aware of the holographic wire frame of a speculum currently rendering on his omni-tool's fabricator and making certain she's aware of it as well. ]
Apology unnecessary, Shepard. Arousal during medical procedures... more common than imagined. Don't need to take it as expression of interest if—would prefer I didn't.
Good news, though! No evidence of invasive Cerberus tech. Wise to suggest physical examination, though; can fool scans, spoof readout. No substitute for sight, touch. [ A little smile touches his face, as though charmed by the banality of it. It's like she wasn't just clenching pleasurably around him mere moments ago. ] Traditional approach... sometimes best.
[ But the mini-fabricator's work is finished, and Mordin's gaze flicks swiftly from the speculum's glow to Shepard's face, pulling from all his knowledge of human facial tics to determine whether the suggestion of it has elicited a reaction. ]
Further procedures unnecessary. Exam concluded.
[ A deep inhale. Probably not misreading situation. Still, about to show cards. Risky. ]
No longer your doctor.
[ Which, in context, might actually be the filthiest thing he's ever said to anybody. He continues to reassure himself that this is not the worst breach of medical ethics he's ever committed by far. Also, he's suddenly recognized that he's been feeling... unusual over the past several minutes—unusual in ways that take him back to long-lapsed negotiations with a magnetic young dalatrass, to the sinuous asari dancers Aria T'Loak surrounded herself with in Omega—in response to what he can only posit must be the pheromone-laden scent of her. ]
Still, could [ lifted brow. ] afford some redundancies. [ Minute, sheepish sniff. ] If desired.
[ And there it is. ]
Idea in itself breach of propriety. Occurs to him, though, that Cerberus command's standards of propriety somewhat looser than Alliance, Union, Council. Shepard's own standards as well (only thing loose about her, too). Had let her down gently before. If wanted to try human, would try you. But maybe shift in parameters. Maybe want to try human. Maybe already is.
His mouth seems to have gone a little dry. He hadn't considered that something as simple as this could be enough for her. It almost strikes him as... doable. Moral gray area, perhaps, but not at all grayer than the things he's done in his life already. Very well. First things first. Elephant in room. He shifts up to look her in the eye, very aware of the holographic wire frame of a speculum currently rendering on his omni-tool's fabricator and making certain she's aware of it as well. ]
Apology unnecessary, Shepard. Arousal during medical procedures... more common than imagined. Don't need to take it as expression of interest if—would prefer I didn't.
Good news, though! No evidence of invasive Cerberus tech. Wise to suggest physical examination, though; can fool scans, spoof readout. No substitute for sight, touch. [ A little smile touches his face, as though charmed by the banality of it. It's like she wasn't just clenching pleasurably around him mere moments ago. ] Traditional approach... sometimes best.
[ But the mini-fabricator's work is finished, and Mordin's gaze flicks swiftly from the speculum's glow to Shepard's face, pulling from all his knowledge of human facial tics to determine whether the suggestion of it has elicited a reaction. ]
Further procedures unnecessary. Exam concluded.
[ A deep inhale. Probably not misreading situation. Still, about to show cards. Risky. ]
No longer your doctor.
[ Which, in context, might actually be the filthiest thing he's ever said to anybody. He continues to reassure himself that this is not the worst breach of medical ethics he's ever committed by far. Also, he's suddenly recognized that he's been feeling... unusual over the past several minutes—unusual in ways that take him back to long-lapsed negotiations with a magnetic young dalatrass, to the sinuous asari dancers Aria T'Loak surrounded herself with in Omega—in response to what he can only posit must be the pheromone-laden scent of her. ]
Still, could [ lifted brow. ] afford some redundancies. [ Minute, sheepish sniff. ] If desired.
[ And there it is. ]
Edited (oh my, my brackets////////) 2014-09-08 08:34 (UTC)
[He can hear that Thane's already seriously into this, feel the shudder of his lover's body, and Garrus can't help but feel a bit smug. Of course Thane's getting shaky. He's between the both of them, wrapped up in this quite literally. And then Mordin's stumbling talk, the way he's responding as well... Oh, it's satisfying, all right. As is the thought of Dr. Mordin Solus getting high off of Thane. Though none of that is quite as good as the way it feels to push himself into his lover and his lover into the doctor. Thane is so warm thanks to him, slick and easy to push into, and Mordin's heated as well, both of them feeding into the drell.
Garrus groans as Mordin's foot drops down to rest against his spur. His leg twitches to try to help with the hooking there, to rub against it as shamelessly as he's pulling out and sliding back into Thane. The doctor's comment gets another groan, but that's more of protest even as he tries to be patient. Garrus had just gotten back inside Thane and Mordin wants to shift? There was no desire whatsoever in the turian to pull out again, but the salarian was their guest.
He takes a moment to catch his breath, to remember how to talk before attempting it.]
You got something in mind?
[Of course Mordin does. Probably fifty things in mind, all going to spill out at the same time and leave Garrus' foggy brain in the dust. At least Garrus can mess with the Doctor's mind right back and trail his talons not-so-lightly down the back of the salarian's head while he laps at the newest mark he's left on Thane.]
Garrus groans as Mordin's foot drops down to rest against his spur. His leg twitches to try to help with the hooking there, to rub against it as shamelessly as he's pulling out and sliding back into Thane. The doctor's comment gets another groan, but that's more of protest even as he tries to be patient. Garrus had just gotten back inside Thane and Mordin wants to shift? There was no desire whatsoever in the turian to pull out again, but the salarian was their guest.
He takes a moment to catch his breath, to remember how to talk before attempting it.]
You got something in mind?
[Of course Mordin does. Probably fifty things in mind, all going to spill out at the same time and leave Garrus' foggy brain in the dust. At least Garrus can mess with the Doctor's mind right back and trail his talons not-so-lightly down the back of the salarian's head while he laps at the newest mark he's left on Thane.]
[He lets her off the hook so easily as if nothing's happened, rush of words saying that everything seems all right. She pulls her feet out of the stirrups, bringing her legs together as if it would fix the line's she's crossed.
This search and his hands on her had been unneeded. Unneeded, and enjoyed at his expense. If not for how calm he is about it Shepard would feel like shit right about now. Calm... and confusing. He'd turned her down. He can't be offering what she thinks he is, except the speculum is still forming and he's just said he's no longer her doctor.
He's offering.
If desired.
Hell yes it's desired, and Shepard's tongue flicks out to moisten suddenly dry lips. She's never slept with a member of her crew before, but they're Cerberus now. Alliance regs don't apply. All that matters is the brilliant, dexterous scientist in front of her. Shepard takes a breath and meets his eyes.]
I hear redundancies are all the rage in scientific circles.
[There's the shortest beat. He's an adult and knows what he wants to do just as much as she does, but she has to check.]
Are you sure about this? Your answer several days back wasn't anything along these lines. Not that I'm complaining about the change of mind.
[She wants to know he's not feeling pressured or like his CO is expecting this of him. Her body wants her to shut up. Shepard makes a habit of ignoring signs from her body, weariness, minor pain, aches, but this time she doesn't. Her feet go back into the stirrups in blatant and shameless invitation in case he's certain.]
This search and his hands on her had been unneeded. Unneeded, and enjoyed at his expense. If not for how calm he is about it Shepard would feel like shit right about now. Calm... and confusing. He'd turned her down. He can't be offering what she thinks he is, except the speculum is still forming and he's just said he's no longer her doctor.
He's offering.
If desired.
Hell yes it's desired, and Shepard's tongue flicks out to moisten suddenly dry lips. She's never slept with a member of her crew before, but they're Cerberus now. Alliance regs don't apply. All that matters is the brilliant, dexterous scientist in front of her. Shepard takes a breath and meets his eyes.]
I hear redundancies are all the rage in scientific circles.
[There's the shortest beat. He's an adult and knows what he wants to do just as much as she does, but she has to check.]
Are you sure about this? Your answer several days back wasn't anything along these lines. Not that I'm complaining about the change of mind.
[She wants to know he's not feeling pressured or like his CO is expecting this of him. Her body wants her to shut up. Shepard makes a habit of ignoring signs from her body, weariness, minor pain, aches, but this time she doesn't. Her feet go back into the stirrups in blatant and shameless invitation in case he's certain.]
[ When Archangel swoons, Mordin is on it with a snap of reflexes impressive even from a salarian, shoulder gliding forward to support his not-inconsiderable weight. Even through a glove, he can feel the heat rolling off the turian's body where he's supporting him, palm solid and fingers splayed over the narrowest part of his torso. Turians are like salarians; they run hot, particularly in the wake of deadly firefights.
It's a good thing that Archangel's doing. ]
Bedrest.
[ And he says that with a twist of his lips, like he knows full well that there's nothing he could demand that would be worse. ]
Can expect fever response to injury as it heals. Minor infection due to waiting, hasty application of omni-gel. Have done what I can for now, Should have come immediately after skirmish.
[ Being scolded by a doctor might be humiliating in every culture, who knows. ]
No need to worry about clinic. Safest place to be at present; choke points fortified by armed mechs. If Suns not already aware... [ Sniff. His cheer about it is maybe vaguely macabre. ] Will be.
At any rate, welcome to stay. No, inaccurate. Not welcome. Must insist, actually. As your physician.
It's a good thing that Archangel's doing. ]
Bedrest.
[ And he says that with a twist of his lips, like he knows full well that there's nothing he could demand that would be worse. ]
Can expect fever response to injury as it heals. Minor infection due to waiting, hasty application of omni-gel. Have done what I can for now, Should have come immediately after skirmish.
[ Being scolded by a doctor might be humiliating in every culture, who knows. ]
No need to worry about clinic. Safest place to be at present; choke points fortified by armed mechs. If Suns not already aware... [ Sniff. His cheer about it is maybe vaguely macabre. ] Will be.
At any rate, welcome to stay. No, inaccurate. Not welcome. Must insist, actually. As your physician.
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