[He sees IV, hanging there, swollen up in a way that can't be natural, can't be right, with...with that thing writhing around his cock, and...

(his whole body burns, it's sore and tender and it aches for touch, for)

(for thomas' hands, for his mouth)

Deep breaths, in through the nose, don't swallow the stuff in your mouth (except the tendril has fattened between his lips so nothing can get out and so he has to swallow, swallow down this sick oily thing that's already softening his mind with arousal).

When it pulls the tendril out of his mouth, it's clear he's struggling to keep some kind of composure.]

N...nnh. Name your terms.

[He's flushed, though, sweating a little already.]