"Fine then. Like this," Mac grunted, pushing and pulling and writhing about until he'd fought them both off enough to push Uldren away, then push Ilormael between them. He tucked the elf forward enough that he could touch knees with the Prince. Grabbing the other Awoken's hand, he tugged, pressing it down against the boy-elf's thigh and sliding it up slowly, all while elaning over Ilormael's shoulder to nibble at his ear and whisper.

"You're so scared of him, but he doesn't mean you any harm. He brought you here in the first place because I was so excited to see elves. He's rough, but he's a good man. And I'm going to prove that he's much more interested in you and your well-being than you think."

Green eyes flicked up, glowing bright in the shadows of the shelter, the fire making Mac's usually cool blue skin a warm orange hue. He watched Uldren meaningfully, full lips curving into a slow smile of challenge.

"Suck him off," he said, gesturing lightly with the hand that wasn't guiding Uldren's own palm to the elf's stiff member.

"You want to prove you're not a boogeyman and loosen him up, then go down on him. You and I both know you like it, and you're good at it. You taught me, after all," the Warlock pointed out, smirking at his Prince with a positively devilish expression. why not turn the tables around a bit? After all, if everyone got theirs in the end, it was an evening well spent. That, and the more Mac thought about Uldren snarling around Ilormael's cock while the elf squealed or moaned or whatever he was bound to do, the more the Warlock needed to see it.

Maybe Uldren was having a bad influence on him. Maybe it was a good one? All about perspective, really.