Summary: Saren doesn't like other people touching his things. But it's hard to justify the anger when he hasn't told Nihlus he is his.
Original Prompt
"Saren/Nihlus. Possessive jealous sex on Saren's part."
Thank you Laufeyson'sWife for being a wonderful beta!
.-oOo-.
Nihlus elbowed his way around a group of dancing bodies on his way to the bar. He needed a drink after the day he'd had. He'd thought things would have been different with both of them being spectres now, but Saren was riding his ass more than ever, and not in the good way. The decision to take the older man's ship together instead of his own was simple; the man didn't like change, he worked great within his own set perimeters and being his former student, Nihlus knew things would be easier to just go along with his wishes, thus sparing himself the confrontation and the inevitable argument. But he was grown up now, dammit, he had been running his own missions for a few years already, he didn't need to be micro ordered about everything.
The seat of the bar stool protested with a wheeze of the leather clad cushion when he sat down on it with a sigh. They were on their way to the outer colonies, stopping for the night to fuel up on the small depot station. Nihlus had fled the confines of the ship as soon as it had connected to the docks. He was way too tense to deal with his colleague right now. He had forgotten how strenuous it was to live with the man. If he saw the pale turian within the next couple of shots he'd probably blow up in his face.
No, what he needed was a distraction, some alcohol in his system and maybe a good lay. The recreation poison was taken care of rather immediately as he ordered up three shots that he downed in rapid succession. It gave him a pleasantly distant buzz, making his skin tingle for a bit as his body acclimated to the new substance.
He turned around to watch the crowd, a glass of something bitter in his hand, just enjoying the pounding music and the writhing bodies on the dance-floor. All kinds of races seemed to visit the small station and the sea in front of him was littered with a large spectra of colors. Sweeping his eyes across the crowd he saw a tall turian grab the ass of an asari, two salarians yelling at each other at a small bar table. A human couple was dancing close to a turian woman, making suggestive moves and fluttering their eyelashes at her. She didn't seem to be interested.
In a corner he found a gray, wide-shouldered turian with bleak eyes. For a second their gazes met before the other man looked away, his mandibles fluttering guiltily. Nihlus smirked to himself. Apparently he had caught someone's interest.
He turned back around to the bar, letting the other party get a good look of his profile, the curve of his waist, the length of his fringe. Nihlus sipped his drink slowly, glancing at him ever so discreetly through the corner of his eyes. The guy was clearly checking him out and he could feel those interested spots of gray rowing up and down his body. He was glad he had taken the form fitting shirt tonight. Slipping the very tip of his tongue out to catch a drop of liquor on the outside of the glass, entirely on purpose, he shifted his eyes to meet the stranger's before letting his tongue roll back into his mouth. The man had the look of someone who had been struck over the head, his mandibles hanging loose in shock.
Chuckling, his ego soaring, Nihlus got up from the stool and made his way over to his admirer. He leaned on both hands against the table, pulling himself up to his full length and looking down on him over his nose.
"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked, putting just the tiniest suggestive tone into his subvocals.
"Definitely," the man said, his mandibles spreading in a wide smile, happy that this particular turian had chosen to join his booth.
Nihlus slid along the sofa surrounding the table, not stopping until he had invaded the other turian's personal space. Not much, but just enough to get people wondering if he had done it on purpose or accident. They shared some small talk as he let his eyes roam over what he could see of his new friend. He was wide at the shoulders, muscled like someone who carried around a lot of weights during the day. It was explained why when he told him he worked in construction. The skin on his throat was perfectly silver toned and had a healthy shine to it, making his mouth go dry from the thought of tasting it. His fringe was shorter than normal, and he didn't really live up to the beauty standard of their species. But Nihlus didn't care, not when those pale eyes looked at him like he was the most beautiful man in the whole galaxy.
He was aware enough of his own self that he had to admit that it affected him. Putting a burn in the pit of his stomach, muscles tensing up around it. All he could think about, two drinks later, was how it would feel to have those wide arms wrapped around him. How he would feel, his heavy chest pressed against his own.
Putting his glass down, he leaned in on the other turian, happy to see how his breath caught and quickened by his proximity. Pheromones flared around them when he placed a hand on his thigh and slowly started to work his way up over his pants.
Nihlus had a compliment on his tongue, but it never got further, for what he heard next made his stomach grow cold and tighten from a completely different reason.
"Nihlus?"
.-oOo-.
Saren had walked back to the ship, finally done dealing with the fees and services ordered for their stay. He was looking forward to maybe sharing a meal with his old friend. The whole trip here had been an exercise in nostalgia. Years had passed since he last shared quarters with Nihlus and with the young man back in his old room it almost felt like old times.
It didn't take him two seconds to realize the ship was empty however, his travel companion absent. Where could he have gone? There wasn't much to do on the station except... of course. Holding back a deep sigh while pinching his brows together with the tip of his fingers, Saren turned around to head for the only bar within about seventy light years. He had almost forgotten about Nihlus' tendency for drinking himself silly when he didn't have anything better to do. Maybe he had suppressed the memory to the back of his head in pure self preservation. Perhaps he should have given the young man a chore to carry out so he didn't have to resort to wasting his time, and mind, away in a run down establishment it was bound to be on this small scrap of metal.
The place wasn't big, and just as second grade as Saren had suspected. He quickly got visual on his former student, but when he did, his heart dropped into the bowels of his stomach with a drowning feeling that took his breath away.
He was with another man. Sitting improperly close in a dark corner cubicle. The undeserving turian had pale skin that was disturbingly close to Saren's own. He was wider, more muscular, probably taller too, and his dark brown colony markings slithered their way down his face in graceful lines. Self doubt was a thing that the harsh spectre didn't acknowledge was a part of himself, but there it was anyway.
Why hadn't Nihlus gone to him, if he desired company of such nature, which was obviously his intention. They had good times, didn't they? Saren had never had better sex than with the younger man, and he knew for a fact his partner had enjoyed it equally much. Was that a lie?
When he saw how his protege inched closer to his companion and put a hand on his leg suggestively, a fire roared into life in Saren's gut. All his doubts and indecision turned to anger. Anger was safe, anger he knew how to deal with.
He strode quickly through the room, the loud music obscuring the muffled growl that wanted to spring out of his chest.
"Nihlus," he pressed out between tightly held mandibles, when he finally stopped in front of their table.
.-oOo-.
Nihlus closed his eyes, chills making his back stiff. No, please no, not here not now... Please tell him it wasn't who he knew it was standing there behind his back. Comically, slowly, he turned around in his seat to confirm his fears. Yes, it was him. Fuck!
"Saren, fancy seeing you here." He tried for humor, but the stern, and frankly pissed off look on the pale face didn't falter.
"So I see you didn't waste time getting yourself sullied in the nearest dive," the older man sneered. "Count on you to be able to pick up trash wherever you are." The look he threw the offending person in question was sharp enough to cut glass.
To his credit the new companion didn't flinch. Nihlus figured it was probably because he didn't know who the other man was. But he was about to find out as he slammed his hands in the table and stood up, returning the angry expression.
"Hey!" he yelled. "Who d..."
He didn't get any further, Saren's arm moved faster than anyone could see. All ears around the table were finely tuned, even over the loud music, to how the heavy gun slowly whirred and charged as it was pointed directly at a forehead only one meter away.
"Give me one reason," the terrifying spectre sneered out. "Please."
The turian had gone stiff in fear as he stared down the metal pipe.
"What the fuck!" Nihlus cried out and quickly made his way out of the booth to grip the old man's arm and lower his aim. He didn't hide the angry undertones in his voice one bit as he growled out through clenched teeth, his mandibles shivering slightly in tension.
It had been a long time since he was last scared of Saren. He had endured countless hours being on the receiving end of those accusing eyes, day after day of getting his shit pummeled out of him from those fists. All of it had made him stronger, faster, more cunning. He never backed down from a fight with the spectre any more.
"I do not need this noise," his evening-companion-to-be said and hurried around the table. "I'm sorry, but your friend is crazy."
Nihlus watched him go, still holding onto the gun-arm of his former mentor. The anger at him lessened the blow of being rejected right now.
"Good riddance to bad trash," Saren muttered under his breath and relaxed noticeably, putting the weapon back in its holster.
"What the hell, Saren?" Nihlus cursed, holding in an impulse to push the other man.
Cold, familiar eyes turned to him.
"You shouldn't be out here tonight," he said, all emotion gone from his voice. "We're on a mission."
"How I spend my free time is none of your damn business," the younger turian gave as good as he got, getting into his face.
The pale nose wrinkled.
"You're drunk," he said, a dislike all too well-known coloring the tone.
"Hell yes I'm drunk, how else do you think I'd be able to stand..." But no. That was too far. Nihlus broke off the sentence and took a step back in regret. He didn't mean that. Saren meant too much to him. Too damn much, no matter how mad he drove him on occasion.
"Able to stand... what exactly?" Of course he hadn't let the slip up gone unnoticed.
Nihlus just shook his head.
"Nothing, it doesn't matter."
"No, I want to know." He grabbed the exposed red arm in an iron grip and pulled him close enough that he could feel the other man's breath on his cheeks.
And there it was, one of the reasons he drove him nuts. The tension bubbling just under the surface, threatening to get free at any moment. A fire started in Nihlus' loins when he met those ice blue, piercing eyes.
"You drive me crazy," he managed to mumble out into the limited space between them.
A ferocious growl made Saren's mandibles vibrate and suddenly they were moving, the pale turian pulling him off to the side and into one of the available restrooms.
"What do you want, Saren?" he protested as he was pulled into a stall after him. Pain shot through his fringe briefly when the older man slammed him into the wall before locking the door behind them.
Gray hands fumbled at his belt, trying to get the latches open, but eagerness made the fingers clumsy.
"Fuck, no!" Nihlus sneered, swatting the searching digits away when it stood clear what his former mentor intended. He was pissed at the man! He had no interest in engaging with him in any late night activities.
A spastic and violent struggle ensued. Red fingers pushing gray ones away as they tried over and over again to grapple with his pants. At last the gray competitor got the upper hand and strong grips closed around red wrists and were pushed up on each side of his head, pinning them against the wall. A muddled thud was heard when his hard back-scales hit it too as Saren shoved a rough knee between his legs, grinding his thigh against his pubic plates.
Fuck! Nihlus tried to ignore the ardor the harsh treatment ignited in him, pain mixing with tantalizing pleasure as he was rubbed along the clothed leg. When a tongue started to dance along his neck, light nips trailing up and down the sensitive hide, adding beautiful contrast to what was happening further down, he felt his plates start to shift despite himself. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck...
He couldn't contain the low purr of desire that started in his chest. It was quickly met with a similar sound in the other turian and crap, it turned him on something fierce when he heard the almost desperate want in the older man's vocalization. Stupid asshole! Why was he so hot? Why could he never deny him this? Maybe because this is who you were really looking for when you went out tonight, a dry voice in the back of his head told him. This is who you really wanted. Always wanted.
The voice was proven right when Nihlus turned his head to the side to concede his consent to the act. The victorious trill Saren let out went straight down Nihlus bones and into his groin. His arms were raised over his head and one hand snaked it's fingers into his, entwining them in a solid grip. The other worked on getting his pants open.
They were pushed down, hanging loose over his spurs and then the soft flesh between his spread plates were palmed, hugged and teased. Nihlus groaned, closing his eyes to not have to see the smug look on Saren's face. Bastard! He'd get even for this, mark his words... But just how his revenge would go down wouldn't come to him as he felt himself emerge into a waiting hand that quickly started to stroke him in a tight fist. The moan that vibrated through his throat was entirely without pride or prudence.
That's when he flipped him, spun the red turian to face the wall and Nihlus could hear how he worked his own pants open, his breath warm at his neck. A finger found its way down between his legs from behind, teasing the silky tissue just below his base, before slipping in, the glide made effortless from his natural fluids. He pressed himself back against that finger, because fuck that felt so good, and bit down, grinding his teeth together over a desperate keen. How could Saren make him into a pliant mess so quickly?
The finger was soon removed and he chased it as it left, but he hadn't needed to be so worried. Within a second the tip of a warm, big limb replaced it, his hips gripped between sharp talons, before he suddenly was filled to the brim by his lover.
He hissed at the intrusion and arched his back in a bow, giving him a better angle to go in deep, the too large extremity stretching him far wider than was comfortable. It was blessed pain and blessed pleasure and Nihlus moaned again. His former mentor rumbling in contentment behind him. Then he was gripped at the back of his clothed cowl and pushed further into the wall. Nihlus had to turn his head sideways, his cheek pressed against the cold surface.
Saren's face was inches from his left eye and he growled out a threat, mandibles vibrating.
"Be. Quiet," he said, the promise of violence forcing shivers down his limber body. "Or I will make you quiet. You get me?" The pale turian tilted his head and pierced him with his crystal blue eyes.
Nihlus nodded eagerly, anything to get the man to start moving. Flames of desire were consuming his body and he just wanted... just needed... please something... anything...
He had to bite his tongue when Saren started to thrust in and out of him, setting a punishing pace from the get go. Oh Spirits it hurt so good! Just right, just what he needed. He was so hard, so perfectly shaped, feeling so wonderfully good inside of him he just wanted more all the time.
The only sound in the run down bathroom for a while was the conspicuous slap of plates against plates, the slight slicking sound of Saren's sex going in and out through wet, tight flesh and two deep turian voices breathing rapidly.
Far away behind a wall of white hot pleasure, Nihlus heard the door opening, the sound of the outside club getting stronger for a moment before muting again. Echoing steps on a hard floor that stopped just a few paces in, and then a softly whispered voice full of embarrassment; 'Oh, dear lord!"
Saren didn't stop, didn't falter, it didn't even seem as if he noticed the intruder. He just kept pounding into his former student from behind, speeding up to a frantic pace, his mandibles held tight to his face and teeth ground together. The steps were heard again before the door opened and closed, leaving the two turians alone to their vices.
Just as the door closed, Nihlus felt how his partner in crime expanded inside him. The old man's hips snapped in a spastic twitch two times before he buried himself deep, pulling the red turian back against his chest. Sharp teeth penetrated the side of his neck, just below his mandible, and he could feel how the sharp growl was muted by his skin. Was the man actually biting him? There? Where his wound would be shown for anyone to see. He had never done that before, always leaving bite marks in hidden places where clothes would cover them up. Nihlus heart was beating painfully hard in his chest from the mere implications of this.
Two deep breaths through his nose was all the time Saren allowed himself before he slipped out of his lover and gently lapped at the bleeding wound. Nihlus didn't dare to move, his body tense, as he was slowly cleaned.
Suddenly he was spun back around, his back at the wall and the pale turian kneeled down in front of him. Still dazed from the good fuck and a bit startled over the sudden flood of emotion, he jerked forcefully when a blue tongue wrapped itself around his long forgotten length. He wheezed in some air, his abdominal muscles knotting together as tension pooled when the older man took him into his mouth in one fluid movement.
The massage of the tongue, the slick saliva mixing with his own fluids, the fucking sight of Saren on his knees with his mouth all over him. It was too much, too good, too fucking amazing. So when the man looked up at him, his ice blue eyes full of... of... something, Nihlus didn't exactly know what. It was foreign, heady, but unreadable just the same. And now he had the tip of him at the roof in the back of his throat and let his subvocals sing out in deep rooted desire, the vibrations going straight up through his blue limb and fuck! Nihlus was coming like a supernova fueled on pure jet fuel. He couldn't keep his hips from jerking forward, the muscles in his legs twitching as a white light overtook his sight. His nerves firing in all directions, making his body shiver in unadulterated pleasure.
Saren had detached himself, wiped his mouth and stood up, on his way to pull up his pants up before Nihlus had even gotten back down onto solid ground again.
"Clean yourself off and get back to the ship to get some rest," pale lips formed as he buttoned up, straightening his jacket, looking just as perfectly orderly as before they started, leaving no trace of their romp. "We're leaving early tomorrow and I won't give any leeway just because you're hungover." Without giving the other turian another look, he exited their stall and disappeared out into the club again.
Nihlus was still catching his breath, wondering what all that had been about. Slowly gathering his faculties, he tidied up somewhat before finding his way back home to the docks.