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2020-05-31
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probing questions

Summary:

Shepard gets Mordin to try human.

Notes:

Cuz Mordin looks like the type to want to stick anal probes up people's assholes, and Shepard is a creep :3

 

unbeta'd, but I did read through it way too many times.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“If intended to try human, would try you.”

The silence that permeated the tech lab after that admission made Shepard’s arm hair stand on end. Air from the vents above the workbench whirled unobtrusively, cycling out old air with new. Mordin coughed into his fist, big black eyes blinking calmly, bottom to top, as if expecting Shepard to excuse himself.

But instead of saying "I should go", Shepard said “Is that so?” quietly, more for his own benefit, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Is there anything I could do that would make you want to try human?”

Mordin stared at him, his expression unreadable—or perhaps Shepard just wasn't as well-versed in salarian facial expressions. “Not first person to proposition me, as I said.” He sniffed, stepped away to return to the work bench, attention diverted to some piece of tech he’d been tinkering with before Shepard had interrupted him.

Shepard stepped closer, leaving a space between them as he schemed. “That's not an answer, doc, and I’m not just any human. You’re not curious what it’d be like, even scientifically speaking?”

Mordin sighed, not looking up from his work. “Knew human males to be persistent over sex, but this outcome not anticipated. Expected you to deduce I was only joking.”

That gave Shepard pause, and his face warmed. “You were yanking my chain?”

“Correct. Did not actually think you would harbor romantic interest in me. Must reevaluate my opinion of you.”

“Wait, hold up… So you were just messing with me?” He tried not to let any disappointment show on his face. He still needed to maintain a professional relationship with Mordin, and if that meant brushing off the whole awkward encounter as just a joke, he would do it, even if he was still really curious about salarians. About Mordin in particular.

But Mordin must have noticed a change in his voice, because he was quick to reply.

“Did not intend to cause upset, forgot momentarily how sensitive human egos can be. Please accept my apologies.” He nodded once in Shepard’s direction, once again turning his attention back to his work.

That is, if Shepard had been willing to let this go. Which he was not.

“I’m not hurt,” he said, probably a little too defensively. “But you weren't wrong. I am interested in you.”

“Already gave answer. Not interested.”

“Sexual interest doesn't just come from physical looks, though.”

“Would hope not. Quite strange for you to want me, otherwise.”

“What if it wasn’t about sex for you? What would you say if you could use me for an experiment?”

If Shepard hadn’t been already watching Mordin’s every move, he would have missed how the salarian went still for a split second.

“I could be your test subject, for whatever curiosities you have about the uh, male human body.”

There was a certain feeling Shepard got when he knew he had won a fight before it was over—when he had talked an opponent into giving up, when he’d cleared an enemy base except for a few stragglers, saw where all the connections were in a terminal before he finished hacking it. The feeling of victory just within reach. That same feeling coursed through Shepard and he pressed on.

“Besides, how many human-salarian sexual relationships could there really be out there? You have the chance to learn firsthand what it’s like, instead of relying on secondhand knowledge from some inferior xenoscientist.” Knowing Mordin’s odd proclivities for invasive procedures, he added: “You could probe me.”

“Hmm. Point made, even if only thinly veiled attempt to get me to touch your genitalia. Very well.” He brought up his omni-tool and the locks on the doors leading out of the lab engaged, switching from green to red.

“No need to worry, already discarded all Cerberus bugs in lab. Should be safe.” He looked at Shepard, a small curve to his mouth, before leading him to the exam table against the bulkhead. “Strip and lay on the table, and we can begin.”

Shepard couldn’t tear his clothes off fast enough. The white and black Cerberus uniform was pulled off and piled on the workbench, then feeling self-conscious about the display of overeagerness, he paused to fold and stack the clothing in an orderly fashion. Turning around, Mordin was fiddling with his omni-tool, probably setting it up to record all the data from this encounter. Shepard had told him to experiment with him. He hoped he wasn’t going to regret this.

When he laid on the table, he felt his cock begin to stir. The indifferent way Mordin looked at him, with his two bottomless and passionless black orbs, thrilled Shepard. He was used to people looking at him with awe, respect, fear; not the way Mordin did. There was no open lust in Mordin’s gaze. No senseless hero worship.

Mordin blinked, typed into his omni-tool. “Hope you don’t mind me recording this. For notes only; won’t show anyone else, unless medically necessary.”

Shepard didn’t quite believe that, but he was already here, naked and at Mordin’s mercy. Without waiting for Shepard’s response, Mordin began to rattle off commentary: “Subject: Human, male, healthy, approximately 31 years old. Erect already. Fascinating. Subject likes being watched? Possible causes: childhood trauma, perhaps kink born from taboo societal aspect.” He peeled the gloves off his hands and tapped the tip of Shepard’s half-hard cock with one slender finger, a glob of precum stringing between the two surfaces. Shepard bit back a groan, his shoulders hunching. “Good viscosity. Will collect semen sample at conclusion for sperm count testing. But first—” Mordin inhaled sharply before training his gaze on Shepard’s, and a shudder worked its way down Shepard’s spine at the look. “—must bring subject to completion.”

Oh god, yes. Shepard’s cock throbbed, drawing Mordin’s attention back to it.

“Weren’t exaggerating desire, I see. Will start with manual stimulation. Relax, and enjoy the ride.”

When rough, spindly fingers wrapped around his shaft, Shepard ascended to heaven. The three points of warmth and pressure were alien, but still pleasurable, stroking up and down his length at a measured pace. Mordin pulled the foreskin back to expose the head, blood darkened and smeared with precum, every movement meant to elicit more fluid.

“Larger volume of pre-ejaculate than average human male of this age.” Mordin let go of Shepard’s cock to retrieve a vial where he then proceeded to transfer some of the fluid in it. “Will check for abnormalities later. Now for testicles.”

Even with the second of warning, Shepard flinched when he felt Mordin's fingers press into his sack. He massaged them, fondling them around his fingers, pausing to stroke the short hairs covering the wrinkled flesh. It felt nice. A different nice from having his cock touched, more relaxing and less sexual, but still—nice. Like liquid warmth replacing the blood in his veins. The fingers pressed into the strip of skin behind his balls and Shepard spread his legs a little, but Mordin did not go further south. Shepard couldn’t keep the slight crease between his brows from forming. Mordin seemed more interested in people’s bodies and putting things inside them than the average person would be, but he didn’t touch the exit. He withdrew, snapped on a pair of sterile medical gloves and with a glob of cold medi-gel, stuck his entire dominant finger up Shepard’s ass.

Shepard tensed, instinctively clamping down on the foreign object trying to stretch his insides. Mordin remained focused and professional in his exploring. He twisted the digit around, spreading the medi-gel to lubricate his path. His finger felt unnaturally long inside of Shepard. Then he slowly pulled it out.

He bent over to retrieve something from beneath the exam table, rising to hold up a small bulbous device. It narrowed to a thick, curved point at one end, shaped not dissimilar to an ear bulb syringe. Mordin twisted the body of the device a few degrees until it made an audible ‘click’ and a small red light at the tip came on.

A probe. Shepard shivered in anticipation, balls tightening in delight. He took a deep breath as he watched Mordin squirt medi-gel on the device and rubbed the fluid all over its surface area. He held it up and inspected it when he was done, giving an affirming nod when it passed muster.

“Bend your knees, Shepard; knees to chest,” he said, and waited.

Shepard knew how to follow orders. He pulled his knees up, trapping his weeping cock between his body and spreading his ass cheeks. His face was flushed and he shut his eyes, choosing to ignore the embarrassment creeping up in him and focus on the anticipation building in lieu of it.

Mordin’s clinical voice came through. “Inserting probe now. Will be cold. My apologies.”

Shepard felt a chill, wet pressure at his asshole. Its width seemed to grow, pushing past the ring of muscle and spreading the opening against its natural resistance. He let his legs fall apart and bared his hole more, hooking his hands beneath the back of his knees, giving Mordin as much room as he could. The stringent scent of the medi-gel hit him as he felt the bulb get sucked the rest of the way inside him. Just the very narrowest tip remained outside, giving his hole something to clench around and tease the sensitive nerves.

“Probe inserted. Should hold its position, but have a retrieval remote should removal prove... problematic.”

Shepard’s eyes shot open. “Is it safe to have it inside?”

Mordin blinked as though he just considered that. “Moderately. Not any less safe than cybernetic modifications you have already undergone, but will remain inside for far less time.” When Shepard didn’t respond right away, he hastily added: “Will record reactions, bodily responses, and stimulate erogenous zone. Observe.”

The orange glow of Mordin’s omni-tool reappeared along his forearm and he tapped at something on the screen. Immediately a pleasant buzz started to thrum inside Shepard. He jolted, instinctively tilting his hips back and gripping the edges of the cot, the vibrating sensation emanating through the whole device. From the wide, rounded part buried within, down to the narrow end that gently nudged his exit and kept it from closing, the soft pulses spread through his gut. Shepard felt languid pleasure building just beneath the surface, and moaned softly.

Mordin began quietly humming the tune to a patter song as he peeled his medical gloves off and replaced them with a fresh, sterilized pair. He squirted another glob of medi-gel into one of his palms and rubbed his hands together, looking down at Shepard.

Shepard hardly caught what Mordin said next, so centered on his own ever-growing arousal as he was. Something about endurance. Then Mordin’s hand wrapped around Shepard’s cock and pumped.

Shepard twitched on the cot violently. He lifted his hips, an acute need for release slamming into him from all directions, seemingly out of nowhere. He gasped, his head heavy as he lifted it from the table enough to watch Mordin jack him off with an impersonal air. It alarmed him how close to orgasm he already was. Building pressure and pleasure gnawed through him, made him clench his hole, rock his hips. Shepard fucked Mordin’s slippery palm, no longer able to hold back his desires.

"Oh, fuck," Shepard hissed, draping the back of one shaky hand over his forehead, as his hips pistoned, feet planted firmly on the table.

“Subject overcome easily by mating instinct. Previous inhibitions now appear to be absent.”

Shepard squirmed and trembled, and attempted to time his thrusting with Mordin’s hand but couldn’t keep pace—his cock was red and hard, abnormally hard, like it was filled with more blood than it should be able to hold. His mind spun with the feeling as he looked at Mordin and his flat, wide tongue peeking out to wet his strange, alien mouth. The ridges above his eyes drooped in concentration. His omni-tool continued to glow and collect data as he jerked Shepard’s cock, his large dark eyes giving nothing away. It felt so good it almost hurt. Almost.

Mordin abruptly stopped moving his hand over the shaft and moved his bony fingers to the head of Shepard’s dick. He jerked and twisted them around the tip, bumped the ridge and the thin stretch of skin on the underside, giving all his attention to the most sensitive part.

Shepard came with a gasp and a moan. Every muscle tensed for a second then released, a single spurt of cum landing on his stomach in a wet splat. The rest was quickly collected by Mordin, who gave a small contented smile as he did so, apparently pleased with the sample.

“Impressive amount for only two testicles,” he said with pride, holding the vial of white creamy fluid up to the light.
Shepard melted into the exam table like a puddle of mud, completely drained of energy. Mordin tapped something on his omni-tool and the probe stopped vibrating. He fluttered about, securing the vial and checking notes on his omni-tool, prodding at Shepard’s softening cock, muttering when it twitched in response. Shepard laid there in a state of bliss.

A pack of wipes landed on Shepard’s belly. Mordin was already turning away, having discarded the medical gloves and put on his normal gloves again. He was all cleaned up and done, it seemed, returning to his main workbench.

“Suggest thorough cleaning in your cabin shower. Wipes inadequate, leave residue.”

After a few more moments to allow his heart rate to slow down, Shepard wiped himself down and sat up. The movement sent another electric jolt through his pelvis and his sore genitals complained. Shepard winced, remembering the probe. It was still inside him, rubbing against his prostate.

“Did you forget something?” he asked with trepidation.

Mordin blinked, in his exotic, amphibian way, bottom lid to top. “Probe will continue to record data through the next night cycle. Do not recommend removal by yourself, unless you also have fetish for anal trauma.”

Shepard took his clothes from the table and began dressing himself. “So it’ll stay inside me until tomorrow night? Mordin, we’re supposed to go groundside tomorrow. Illium, remember?”

“Not my problem,” Mordin said, clacking on haptic keys, “Remember, you suggested it.”

Shepard sighed, tucking in his shirt. “That I did.”

He didn’t mind. He watched Mordin go back to his work, watched him blink with his big, strange eyes, bend over his work with his gangly limbs, his odd broken horn beautiful in its asymmetry. Finally dressed and presentable again, Shepard started towards the door.

“Hope you get something good from today,” he said.

Mordin looked up once more. “Hope so. Come by tomorrow after mission, will remove probe and begin second round of tests.”

Shepard paused. Second round?

He smiled all the way to the elevator.

Notes:

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