[ Somehow, even under the stress of being impossibly horny, Mordin's attention is distinctly curious, exploratory. He lets the gentle sting of Garrus's talons usher him closer to Thane, pressed against him pressed against the table Garrus had him bent over scant minutes ago. There is intimacy between the two of them, Mordin knows, and is happy for them. It's not in a salarian's nature to hold onto doubt where reassurance has already been provided—certainly not in Mordin's nature—so he chooses ultimately to give them both the respect of accepting that this is neither imposition nor inconvenience. Thane's body feels mercifully cool against his own, its texture less finely-scaled than an asari's but compellingly smooth all the same.

He glances back toward Garrus briefly, the heat rolling off him a heady contrast to Thane and his comparably temperate fingers playing at his waistband. His first instinct is to shuck them off, take Thane by the cock, and go for broke. But... well, maybe he would just like to believe that there's still room for a measure of subtlety here. For what it's worth, Thane's cock finds a rather lovely temporary home nestled into the hollow of his clothed hip, a delicious pressure. He's addressing them both when he speaks next, hushed, gaze flicking over the powerful muscles of Thane's stomach. ]

Don't—necessarily wish to rush things. Salarian sex quite, ah, direct by other species' standards, even outside of breeding situations. Will endeavor to [ a deep breath, said like it's the hardest thing in the world to say: ] go slowly.