Aphrodisiac - A food, drink, or drug that stimulates sexual desire
"You know," Garrus says, setting his empty glass on the table of their corner booth overlooking the entirety of Afterlife from the exits to the vast dancefloor, "When you said 'let's relax,' I didn't think you wanted to go out to relax."
Jane smirks at the seductive tone to his vocals and leans closer to him, near enough to smell the smokey liquor on his breath. "What? Too old for the clubs?"
Her mate growls and turns his head to her, leaning closer and tilting his head just so that his mouth plates brush her own lips. "I never said anything about not liking it." He pulls back when she tries to kiss him and smirks at her huff of disappointment, the reds, purples, and pinks of light dancing across his plates, chasing away the shadows in flashes to the beat of bassy music. "You convinced me enough to let down my guard, didn't you?"
She hums and smiles, looking to a waitress and waving a hand before pointing to the table in signal for refills. Turning back to her husband, she runs a hand along his thigh. "It definitely helps when nearly everyone - well, anyone important - knows who we are and what we're capable of."
"And that we no longer have galactic laws to limit us," he adds, dropping his voice an octave, wrapping an arm around her to pull her close and into his lap, her legs thrown over his thighs. "The Wraiths being known as the one mercenary group with enough morals not to put up with the other three big names abusing innocent people also helps put a bit of fear in people."
Jane chuckles and moves her hand around his shoulder, fingers caressing beneath his fringe. "Who'd have thought Archangel would have a planet full of people to carry on with his vision." Leaning close enough to nibble on his mandible, she whispers. "No illegal drug dealing, no attacking civilians, taking out the criminals that the legitimate law overlooks …." She smirks and scratches her nails against the soft spot beneath his crest, making him growl softly and grip her hip harder, talons teasing her through her thinner pants. "Too bad that all makes us criminals too."
His rumbling chuckle sends tingles through her lower belly to settle between her legs and she has to clench them against the flush of heat, which he easily notices. "Never thought you'd like the idea."
"And you don't?"
Humming, the sound rough from his scarred throat, he turns his head to look her in the eyes. "Not at all. I can finally bring justice to all the bastards that would've gotten away had I still been in C-Sec." He purrs as he glances aside, and Jane follows his gaze to the incoming waitress, two glasses of each of their chosen poisons in hand.
She sets them down and Garrus holds out a credit chit, but pulls it back, much to waitress' irritation. Rumbling, he lifts the chit up and looks to Jane. "What do you say we take advantage of having enough men around the station to let loose and lose ourselves?"
Jane lifts a brow in intrigue, but the waitress seems to understand as she relaxes. The situation is starting to look a lot like an offer to get wasted, but Jane has a very good feeling it has to do less with alcohol and more to do with something more available here on Omega. Something that sounds suspiciously illegal - and interesting considering the one offering.
Taking her slight nod as answer enough to continue with his plan, her mate looks to the waitress. "Go to Triask. Get us two Hallex …" he says, handing over the chit, "And keep the rest for the trouble."
The scantily clad asari looks between Jane and her turian husband before nodding. "Give me a minute. He's been pretty busy tonight."
Garrus nods and the woman takes her leave, giving Jane the chance to turn to her husband with a dubious look. He rumbles and lifts a brow plate. "What?"
"You? Garrus Vakarian, former C-Sec Officer, former Hierarchy Praetor, now mercenary leader? Actually dealing in Hallex?" She snorts and shakes her head. "What happened to the innocent turian I married?"
His expression blanks as he looks her dead in the eyes. "You really think I've never used drugs? After knowing I spent two years on Omega?" He chuckles when he sees her expression fall at the logical argument. "Never had Hallex, though, but I figure there's no better time than now with so many of our men around to handle any trouble."
It's true. There was only way to get Garrus to both allow her to and go without armor anywhere on Omega - to have enough backup to choke the club with Wraiths armed to the teeth. Sure, she and her mate had at least one weapon on their person, but the whole setup has managed to give her leverage to get him drunk, and apparently loose enough to get into some serious drugs for the night. She also doesn't overlook the number one reason Hallex is so popular in club settings - of just how quite someone can find their pants mysteriously gone from a single touch against their oversensitized skin.
Morinth used it for a reason, after all, and it definitely wasn't for hers or her victim's health.
"I'm surprised," Jane says as she walks her fingers along his shoulder. "You already seem pretty damn turned on just from a good few drinks." She smirks and drops her hand between his legs and cups his groin, smile widening at the obvious gap already between them. "By the feel of it, I don't even think you'll need it."
Garrus rumbles and slides his own hand between her legs and rubs the flat of his palm there, making her gasp and jerk. Chuckling, he gives her a shit-eating grin. "Try telling me you aren't just as ready and willing as I am." When she gives him a scathing look, he thrums and licks her lips, but doesn't stay near. "Just imagine how it'll feel when everything is amplified."
She closes her eyes and nibbles on his mandible. "And what if we're too out of it to get to the Normandy?"
He shrugs. "Then we don't. This booth is dark enough."
Stilling, she smirks against his plates and runs a hand along his clothed chest. "I'm more than happy that you're still as kinky as when we met." She snorts and leans back to look in his eyes. "Hell, you're kinkier than when we met. And here I am happy that your exhibitionist streak wasn't just because you were withdrawing like a bitch."
"If I knew you liked it so much, I'd have done it more," he responds, looking away. Jane glances in the same direction and sees the waitress approaching. "Last chance to back out."
She lifts a brow and catches his challenging smirk out of the corner of his eye. "You really think I'm afraid of a little blue pill?"
"It's not-"
Jane waves it off, snorting softly. "A 'little blue pill' is an easily obtained drug for humans to help keep an- Just forget what it is," she snaps playfully, leaning over enough for Garrus to reach out his hand and take two unassuming square pills smaller than her own pinky nail. "That's it, huh?"
"Just let it dissolve on your tongue," the waitress says before grabbing some of the empty glasses littering their table.
Jane waits until the waitress leaves before looking to her mate in doubt. "She didn't screw you, did she?"
"I hope not," he says, turning to her just in time for her to see his smirk. "I'm not into asari."
Huffing, she swats her hand against his chest and plucks a pill from his hand. Her expression shifts, excitement bubbling through her chest as she moves closer to him.
"Open," she orders, and he does, watching her from his peripheral as he slides his tongue out. She lays the pill in the shallow groove down his tongue and it quickly begins to dissolve, edges growing softer as his saliva begins to break it down.
Pulling his tongue back, he rumbles when she sticks out her own tongue without command. He first drags the tip of his talon along the center of it, just enough to send a shiver down her spine without drawing blood. Just as she's about to curse him for teasing, she feels a slight prickling in the center of her tongue from what must be the pill. She knows he's still watching her face, so she curls her tongue as she slowly pulls it back into her mouth, causing him to growl softly before taking a drink from his untouched glass.
Humming, she rolls her tongue in her mouth as the slightly bittersweet pill dissolves. She assumes it must be flavored for the benefit of the user, sure that tasting the basic chemicals wouldn't be much of an experience given the concept of taking it to better a club experience. That, or the taste is just a happy side effect, but Jane likes to think the former. Something about a naturally sweet drug makes it sound so much more dangerous than something that makes the user cringe with each use.
As the last of the pill counts her mouth in its flavor, she takes her drink and sips through its straw. The taste washes away, but Jane doesn't immediately feel anything, no lightheadedness or flush as she expects.
"So, how long does it take?"
Her husband hums and sets his glass down. "It'll hit you first given your size, but we can always kickstart it."
"And how's that?" Instead of getting an answer, Garrus pushes her off his lap. "What-" she starts, confused until he pulls himself out of the booth and turns back to her. "Oh no. I'm not doing what you're thinking I'm going to do." When he doesn't respond, merely lifting a brow plate expectantly, she narrows her eyes in finality. "I'm not dancing drunk off my ass and about to be drugged up to my eyes."
"You don't have to be coordinated," he says, leaning over and taking her hand to urge her out or risk just being pulled. Damn him and his greater strength. "Come on. Moving will help it metabolize faster."
She puts up a futile attempt to struggle back into the booth, but he quickly pulls her to her shaky feet and into the crowd of the grinding, hot mess of faceless bodies. Apparently finding his perfect place, Garrus turns and pulls her against his chest, her breath rushing out of her in a grunt as she trips over her feet and into his solid, immovable form. He doesn't necessarily laugh or say anything, but she feels the hitching rumble of amusement under her palms as she straightens herself.
"Laugh it up-" she starts, glaring up at him, but he silences her with a forceful kiss, shoving his tongue past her lips.
Already, the texture of him is starting to feel different, the rough surface dragging against her tongue, sending jolts of sensation down her spine with what feels like each groove and bump as it passes over her. She moans softly as she lifts to her toes to chase his taste, drink more of him and lap at his sweet, alcohol soaked taste. Feeling and swallowing his responding growl against her, she grips his neck and releases the tension growing in her by dragging her blunt nails against his heated - almost too hot - hide, the harsh differences in texture of his scars setting her fingertips on fire. His own hands grasp at her, solid as they cup each of her ass cheeks and grind her against him, the sensation like rubbing her greedy body against an unforgiving, yet living statue.
A statue that tasted so fucking good the longer he tasted her in turn.
"Fuck," Jane sighs as she lifts her head, panting as their bodies grind and seek pressure to all their hungry desires. She groans in need, feeling her core soaking everything in its way between satisfying itself and devouring the only thing that'll ease the pressure.
Garrus responds in kind as one of his hands tangle itself in her hair and grip tightly, but she doesn't fear the pain, instead feeling her knees go weak as bolts of electricity shoot straight down to her soaking sex. Jerking her head aside, her husband buries his face in her neck and curses in a rough, turian tongue too thick for translation. She gasps and stumbles closer and harder against him when his tongue drags against her too hot flesh before his mouth plates dig into her skin, teeth scraping hard enough to draw blood. She digs her fingers into the gaps between the plates of his neck, trying to bring him the same pleasurable pain, but all that comes from her lips is a needy whine when his tongue laps at her blood.
A fever fills her and she shoves him off her, grabbing at his waist and digging her fingers into the soft muscles. Bruising is her goal and she exhales heavily when he lifts his head and moans deeply, the bright lights of the club flicking over him and painting his face in blood pumping reds and violets. When his head drops, shadows hide his eyes, put she reads the lust easily enough in his body as he cups both heads around her head and yanks her into another fiery kiss.
Sharing their moans and scrapes of teeth, they push against each other, devouring their mate's ecstasy and twisting it to feed their own burning hunger. Jane's knees feel breaths away from buckling and she knows Garrus is in no better place by his needy whines and rough gropes, but neither can find it in themselves to part, to let go of the high long enough to get back to the table. Moving would entail losing the grip over her satisfaction and she isn't strong enough.
Fucking right here and now plays at her mind, picks at her will.
Panting against him, she drops a hand between his legs and moans when she feels his arousal just as needing as her own. She can't grab him through the pants, but she palms him roughly, rubbing her hand against his pants and shivering at the coarse fabric against her sweaty palm. He responds by clasping her breast and squeezing hard, stealing her breath away with the blossom of pain.
"Fuck…. Here," she demands, hands fumbling with the smooth, chilled clasps of his pants. "Can't wait…."
Garrus' growl sends a rush down her nerves and she feels herself starting to slide down her thigh, but he doesn't give in. Grabbing her wrist roughly, he yanks her with him as he shoves his way through the living, formless mass created by the blur of bodies. Her mind is too lost in him, in the feeling of his searing grip around her and massive back before her to question how the multitude of people became a single organism that grips and pushes against the two of them as they try to escape. Just the feel of it brushing against her flushed skin makes her tremble and struggle to keep on her feet, her only support her demanding ache between her legs insisting she not delay her feast of Garrus' essence any longer.
Scrambling into the booth, he lifts her into his lap and steals her breath away as he forcefully grips and pulls at the clasp of her pants. Jane moans and exhales roughly against his mouth as she shoves his hands away and lifts to her knees to push them down to just below her knees, but even that takes too long as she's soon clawing her way back to him, his hands digging talons into her. Having enough mind to understand that she won't be able to straddle him properly with the damn pants in the way, she turns her back to him and nearly passes out from the slick weight as it presses against her ass.
She moans at the feel of him just as soaked and hot as she feels, Jane reaches down and grips his cock roughly, yanking a snarl from him behind her. Slapping his hands away from pulling his pants down further, she lifts on her toes and impales herself on him, crying out as he parts her folds and sinks home.
He feels like not steel and stone within her, the two of them pulsing against the other's needy sex. Using his hands on her hips to help ride him, she grunts and pants with each plunge around the lightning rod within her, moaning and gripping the table each time he bucks beneath her like an animal starved. A massive hand cups her breast and shoves her back against a body made of stone and she drops a hand to her clit, greedily rubbing in time with his motions shoving into her, spearing her unforgivingly. She's moaning constantly, her husband no better as he groans and growls against her.
One hard buck of the wild beast below her and the harsh stabbing of teeth into her flesh and she screams, voice breathless as she chokes on herself and her pleasure. Her jerks as she falls into the abyss, grinding against him and whimpering needingly when she feels him grow within her, pressing insistently against her walls. Body giving into his will, Jane tries to moan at her orgasm carrying on his own, but her mouth merely falls open as she grips his hands. Her hips undulate with each pump of his slick seed within, but soon the high begins to ebb, her racing mind and heart starting to ease to a point she doesn't feel bond to pass out from the sensations.
Panting, she chuckles giddily at the lingering sensitivity on her skin and how it amplifies the caress of his tongue against her pierced skin. "Fuck," she says, breathless and grinning like an idiot at her husband with a turn of her head.
He merely hums in agreement and leans up to kiss her, the metallic taste of her own blood on his tongue and mouth plates. Parting, he licks away the crimson before leaning forward and motions a refill of drinks to their table from a passing waitress.
"Everything you hoped for?" She cups the bottom of his chin and strokes her thumb against his mandible, taking advantage of the heightened senses before it completely wears away.
"Better," he says, rumbling deeply and leaning in to ghost his breath against her damp temple. "I couldn't think of anything but you, of getting more of you. Your taste, your scent, the feel of you." He smirks and drops a hand to their joining, circling a thumb around her clit, and she whines, toes curling in her shoes. "Your clenching, taking all of me… nearly undid me right there. Almost passed out."
Jane chuckles and nods, looping her arm around to rub beneath his fringe. "Same."
She might not do this again, not quite sure she likes the complete loss of control and awareness - or the risk of addiction giving their scars from past addictions - but it was a unique experience she didn't mind having.