gross xeno fuckathon post

[hypotheses]

♥ hey how u doin lil mama

lemme whisper in ur ear ♥

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[hypotheses]

[ 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. ]

[forgivetheinsubordination]

[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.]