"You're right, it ain't." His lips skim over Marco's neck again, seeking his pulse and latching on when he finds it. His broad hands, meanwhile, slide down his body so he can rest them on his hips. Strong as he is, even his legs are going a little numb under the combined weight of both Marco and Bertolt, but he's not going to complain, not when he gets two gorgeous guys sitting on him. Why complain about getting extremely fortunate?