Pairing: John Shepard/ Kaidan Alenko
Summary: Kaidan, after accepting Udina's offer to become a Spectre, refuses to join Shepard on the Normandy. Shepard tries to make some time to see him, but between fighting Cerberus and the Reapers, it's never going to be like the old days again.
It Doesn't Rain on the Citadel
It doesn't rain on the Citadel. Not naturally anyway. There is a fixed pattern for the artificially-induced rain here. Every Saturday in the last two weeks of each month. Shepard hates that. He just wants to go outside once, not knowing if it is going to rain or not, but deciding not to take his umbrella anyway. And then it will rain and Shepard will curse under his breath, wishing he had the umbrella with him after all.
His hair doesn't get plastered to his forehead, the way it did back on Earth so many years ago, when his hair was longer and had this sort of natural style to it that Kaidan used to be so infatuated with ('John, don't you ever cut that hair! It's the only part of you I can safely call cute and not get both of us terribly embarrassed.'), and with a stubbornness that comes with his rank, Shepard refuses to miss the wet, almost irritating feel of his hair sticking to his forehead, Kaidan's playful hand as it brushes his hair aside and his warm tongue as it licks the raindrops on his face away.
One thing is the same though: the rain worming its way into his collar, sliding languidly all the way in and damping his t-shirt beneath his coat. By the time he would get to Kaidan's place he was soaking wet. Kaidan would chastise him for being so reckless about his health ('Goddamnit, Shepard, don't you check the weather forecast before you leave your house?' - Shepard never did. He wanted to be surprised when it rained. He wanted to be annoyed and curse under his breath. He wanted to get soaked so that Kaidan would look at him like that, and run his hands through his dripping strands of hair, asking him to take off his damp clothes and wear something of his own instead. Shepard loved the naturalness of it all. Shepard loved Kaidan. Kaidan loved him.)
And it was all so natural. And like with anything natural, it hits you when you are least expecting. When they fell apart, as inevitable as it was natural, Shepard was not expecting it. He was unprepared, and this time when he got soaked through, there was no Kaidan around to scold him for taking poor care of himself and then to offer him his own clothes.
It doesn't rain on the Citadel. Not naturally anyway. Kaidan visits him on the Citadel on a fixed pattern. Every Saturday in the last two weeks of each month. Shepard hates that. He just wants to walk around the Citadel and suddenly run into Kaidan like the old days. 'You haven't changed one bit, Shepard.', he would say, and then run his hand through his soaking hair. 'You let your hair grow back, too.' He would be pleasantly surprised about that. 'Just like the old times, huh?', Shepard would say. 'Just like the old times.', Kaidan would agree. But this is not here nor there, and Shepard will refuse to miss the unpatterned rain on Earth, his unpatterned love for Kaidan, Kaidan's unpatterned kisses along his neck and down his chest. He can't afford getting distracted like that, not when the whole galaxy is depending on him. At times like these, love is disposable; it's people's lives that is not. And as Shepard slowly makes his way through strangers' bodies pressing against him from all directions, looking at the familiar figure of Kaidan sitting on a chair at Apollo's cafe, staring absent-mindedly into his drink, and as the raindrops slide into his collar and seep through his Alliance uniform, it keeps not raining on the Citadel.
