The Locked Door or An Unconventional Love Story Across Timelines.
Fraternization is "turning people into brothers"—conducting social relations with people who are actually unrelated and/or of a different class (especially those with whom one works) as though they were siblings, family members, personal friends or lovers.
What if Shepard and Kaidan had to deal with the consequences of the discovery of their relationship?
Shepard and Kaidan are having an affair in the months after the battle of the Citadel, an illegal one at that. They don't care about what they're doing, too wrapped up in them.
Something has to give. In another life it was a Collector ship. In this life, they never expected it to be this. It all ends not in the sinking of a ship, but in a door left unlocked and a Navigator named Charles Pressly.
The ones that were supposed to die, live, and the ones who were meant to live, die. Shepard and Kaidan have to come to terms with what that means for themselves and their relationship.
Shepard drifts in and out of his life like a ghost and two years of missing time is filled.
Warnings for lots of explicit sexual content and themes of grieving, depression and PTSD. Non-canonical character death.
"Shepard…" he groans. "Please. Oh god."
Her tongue licks a path up his shaft, her warm, small hands cupping his balls and massaging just the way he likes it. His whole abdomen contracts as he gropes the slick shower wall, his knees weak and shaky.
"Oh fuck, Shep. You're gonna to kill me."
There's more than heat in his voice, there's longing, the most painful desperation, everything and nothing left unsaid.
The steamy locker room thrums with sex and power. It smells like them. She'd gotten creative earlier and made her biotics pick up droplets of water to hang in the air, a slowly rotating sphere of her perfection; a dome of heat, pleasure and the forbidden. The heated droplets brush against their skin as they kiss and press their feverish bodies together, a refuge after a long day on duty.
Together, they'd washed away the grime and sweat and then Shepard had knelt before him, her mouth warm and welcoming.
The middle of the night cycle is the only time they can steal.
Kaidan can't look away from her. How perfect her round face is to him, her fox grin and all her charms.
"There are not many men I would kneel for. But you, you, Kaidan Alenko, I would make an exception for."
She laughs, the sound muffled by the shower spray and blinks up at him, water droplets in her eyelashes, prettier than the stars hung in the inky void.
"You're so easy, Kaidan," she murmurs, a wicked smirk of her face and taking him in her mouth again, caressing the silky head with her tongue. "Say you're mine."
She runs her hands through the dark hair above his jutting arousal and over his hard stomach, taking pleasure in the muscles under her hand, driving him crazy with her touch and suction around his cock.
"Oh god, I'm yours. I- fuck!"
He would say anything for her; do anything, if she would just keep bobbing her head like that.
He cards his hand through her wet hair, moving it off the side of her face and watching himself disappear into her mouth again and again. He's had his fair share of sex in his time, those days as a lost young man after Brain Camp taught him a lot about his body and how to please a woman.
He's slept with an asari, slept with women older and younger and ones far more skilled in the art of making love than Shepard.
But somehow… she's the hottest thing he's ever had, her wet and sloppy technique, her enthusiasm, the occasional rasp of teeth that has him hissing and pulling her head back.
She's perfect how she is.
And somehow now, merely being in her mouth isn't enough. He wants to be deep inside her, bury himself there, kiss her mouth, her neck, and her breasts. He wants something innate and primal with her, to show her all that she's making him feel inside.
He pulls her to her feet, his cock leaving her mouth with a wet pop.
She has that damnable smirk on her face that says she knows exactly what he's thinking, that he's finally cracked under her ministrations.
"Do you want to fuck me, LT? Is that it?" she teases as he wraps her flush against him, her breasts pressed against his hard chest. She wiggles so they rub against him and sighs with pleasure. His cock is caught between them, aching against her stomach. She strains against him, a delicious friction, but not the one he wants.
"I want to fuck you," he murmurs, kissing her mouth, parting her lips and thrusting his tongue inside. She wraps her arms around his shoulders for balance as his height makes it difficult for her, standing on her tip toes. He would never admit it to her, but their height difference sets something in his chest racing, something base, something that screams at him to protect her. He has to shove it aside most days, but here, in moments like this, he lets it run wild, lets him trace his hands down her back, stroking the soft skin in a promise to never let anyone hurt her again.
He grabs her hips, feeling their generous flare and moves down to her ass to cup the rounded, firm globes. It's perfect, his favorite ass in the galaxy, the one he spent many hours watching sway in skintight armor jumpsuits.
Thank god for Adept wear, his libido had fervently thanked the Alliance outfitters on long missions out on desolate planets with no distraction.
His hands move further down, past her ass and into that sweet valley between her thighs. Her whole body shivers as his fingers lightly trace her folds.
"Kaidan," she breathes, peppering his jaw in messy kisses. He steals her breath with a kiss, running his fingers up her slit, collecting moisture with the tip of his finger and raising it to his lips. She groans. "Oh you fucking bastard, do you ever stop teasing me?"
She parts her legs, allowing him access and at the same time rubbing her belly against his cock. In a taunt or an encouragement, he can't tell.
He takes the initiative to reverse their positions so she is the one pressed against the wall and allow himself full access to her clit with his aching fingers.
She quivers as he flicks the hooded nub. "Oh my god, please, please. Don't fuck around."
"I won't."
His thumb is on her clit and he uses his index finger to probe her entrance, teasing at first and then fully entering her. She gasps and he covers it with his mouth, wary and paranoid if she makes too much sound.
Shepard's not a screamer, he knows that much. She's shy when it comes to sex sometimes.
But still… the locker room isn't completely sound-proofed, and although everyone but Pressly and the night crew should be sleeping… they can't be too careful.
She starts to buck against his hand, straining her hips against him, begging for further penetration that his finger alone can't give her. She breaks his kiss to pant, her whole face strained and pained.
"Yes," she whispers in one long breath. "Yes, yes, oh fuck me."
"You want me, huh?" He pumps harder and she clutches his arm, almost trying to stop and encourage him both. "Like this? Just say it and I'm yours. You know that. I'm yours."
"Please, Kaidan. Please."
"Say it."
"I need you, please, inside me. I-I can't anymore-"
He withdraws his hand and she almost collapses but for how he cradles her with his body, pressing her back against the wall, grabbing those full hips and lifting.
She sighs and wraps her arms around him, finally getting what she wants, her thighs falling to either side of his hips and holding on.
He grasps his cock and positions himself, just lightly tracing up and down her slit with the swollen head, coating himself in her arousal for more lubricant. Not that he'd need it. She's soaked.
She smiles at him, biting her lip, her normally thin, pale rosebud lips red and swollen with lust and rough kisses.
He kisses her sweetly, a bare touching, a tentative exploration, an unasked question.
"Yes," she breathes, and he pushes home.
Her lips part and her eyes flutter shut.
She's tight. So tight. He's glad that he took the time with her, his fingers loosening her up. Without foreplay it probably would have hurt her. In one long thrust, he sheaths himself to the hilt, his balls slapping against the inside of her thighs.
She whimpers slightly, a tight line at her mouth.
"Hey, hey, relax," he says with concern, smoothing the hair out of her face. "Do you want me to stop?"
He pauses, his iron-clad control holding him there, inside her body as far and as close as he could be.
"No, don't stop. I don't know what's wrong. It'll be fine. Just give me a minute. It just hurts a little."
He frowns. She's not usually…
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she sighs, pulling his mouth to hers to silence him. He lets her kiss him before he breaks from the embrace, his nose nudging hers until she smiles.
Then he traces his nose across her cheek, along the dusky, sun-kissed freckles that pepper the peachy skin like the bruised spots on the softest fruit, kissing them gently. Damaged, but still good. Perfect for him.
"I love you," he whispers to her ear, hearing her breath harsh against the shell of his own ear. "I love you so much it hurts."
"And I love you," she answers, sounding frustrated. "I don't know how to tell you how much."
"You are telling me, right now."
Her face twists with annoyance, her nose wrinkling. "I don't know the pretty words for it."
"You tell me with your body. With your lips. With your eyes."
He begins to thrust gently, slow measured forays, withdrawing until he almost slips out and then pushing back in.
Her hips meet his, rotating softly to feel him move inside her.
"I never get tired of you," she says, closing her eyes, the lines clearing from her face as her breaths pick up. "You feel right."
They kiss as they join, close in every way they can be. He tries to take it slow, to make it last, but her mouth was so very good at bringing him to the edge of reason and her body so very receptive to him, her hand on the back of his neck, driving him onwards. Her heels dig into his ass, urging him deeper and faster and he begins to pump quickly.
Her breasts bounce in front of him, so he takes one erect peak into his mouth and swirls his tongue on her sensitive nub.
She arches her back and clenches around him, a small whimper escaping her lips. "Oh," she utters, a tiny exhale of surprise.
"Does that feel good?" he murmurs to her breast, licking his way across her clavicle, laving the skin there and eventually reaching her other peak.
She doesn't answer, just nods and swallows thickly, her head thrown back against the wall, moving in time with his thrusts. She groans as he flicks his tongue and bites down gently on the hard nub.
She covers her eyes with her hands. "No," she says simply and he knows that it's too sensitive for teeth.
Most days she likes it, but she's different today.
He settles for burying his nose in the side of her neck, licking the salty sweat there and whispering to her as the sounds of their flesh meeting fill the room.
He feels warm, safe, happy, here in her arms. As if nothing could go wrong as long as she's here, as long as she keeps telling him how much she loves him, how it feels right when they are together, that she never felt like this before.
He can feel his release building, the muscles in his belly tight, his thighs straining, not for holding her weight because she's ridiculously light, but for the sheer agony of holding back for her.
She's becoming more incoherent, her hips meet his more frantically, the words under her breath one long continuous chant of his name.
He comes first after one last thrust, spilling hot inside her. His thumb finds her clit again, his hands shaking as waves of pleasure wash through him and she shakes, too, as he helps her orgasm. He can feel it shudder through her, her inner muscles milking him dry.
He thrusts slowly a couple more times, still pulsing and laughs when she kisses a bead of sweat off his nose.
"That was fun," she sighs, face red and with a sated smile.
He opens his mouth to respond when the door bangs open.
Charles Pressly stands there, a towel with ducks on it in his hands, a dumb expression on his face , and a gaping mouth as he takes in Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko with his dick still buried in his commanding officer and humanity's finest, Commander Shepard.
"Pressly…" Shepard whispers. Kaidan lets her feet slip to the fall, withdrawing from her. He grabs a towel as quickly as his shocked limbs will allow and covers her in it, belatedly grabbing one for himself. He glances at her naked form as he hands her the towel and blanches in horror as he notices his release, plain and damning evidence on her thighs. Pressly looks away.
"C-Commander," Pressly stammers. "I think I need to speak to you outside. I'll be in the comm room."
Shepard nods, and he shuts the door.
Kaidan turns to her.
"Don't," she silences whatever is racing through his brain and begging to spill out his mouth. "I need to go fix this. Get dressed. Go to bed. Your own, this time."
She rushes to clothes she had so carefully laid beside his on the bench and roughly pulls on her panties, bra and then BDUs.
He stands still and numb, barely having the presence of mind to shut off the shower. He's cold, flaccid, and so very scared for what this means for her.
She's the superior officer, the burden of guilt falls mostly to her. They can't avoid this. There's no wiggle room. Pressly is a professional. He'll have to report the fraternization to the brass.
"This is over, isn't it?" he finally says as she begins to leave the room.
She pauses. Her shoulders are shaking.
"I think so." Shepard presses her hand to her mouth and he thinks she might be crying. "Jesus."
Kaidan dresses quickly after she leaves, running it over and over in his head. He was sure he'd locked the door. In his urgency he must have forgotten to hit the switch.
He sits heavily on the bench, holding his head in his hands, cursing himself. He just ruined them, all for one small mistake. He'd have to transfer. He'd never work with her again.
His clean shirt and pants are warm, soft, and smell like the detergent the Alliance uses in their laundries. Somehow, though, it just reminds him of her and how he'd undressed her an hour ago, and how now everything is different.
He gets up knowing he won't be able to sleep or let it go, so he pulls on his boots and pads up to the comm room. He's glad the crew is light in the CIC; he doesn't want them to see the guilt written all over his face.
At the entrance to the comm room he hesitates before making his presence known. Shepard sits in her regular seat, Pressly in Kaidan's. Their voices are raised.
"Charles, please," Shepard says, flicking a wet strand of hair out of her eyes. "It's not a problem for the crew. I can handle it. I'll just… we'll just end it. No one needs to know."
"Shepard," Pressly responds. "You can't sweep this one under the rug. Your rank has certain expectations. So does Alenko's and so does mine. I would be failing in my duty as an officer if I just ignored this. It can't go on."
"It won't," she says a little desperately. Kaidan's heart pounds as he listens to her try and deny the truth of them. "It never affected the crew."
Pressly stands and Kaidan can see anger tight in the lines of his shoulder.
"No? What about Williams? Was this going on back then, Shepard?"
Shepard looks away and Pressly has his answer.
Kaidan steps in as Shepard covers her face with her hands. Pressly sighs loudly, looking old and worn.
"Pressly, it wasn't like that. We were professionals."
Pressly rounds on him, eyes blazing. "Professionalism goes out the window in situations like this, Lieutenant, and frankly? I'm surprised at you. I thought you both had more sense."
"Oh please, Pressly," Shepard snaps. "It was a fucking moment of weakness. Don't patronize me, or Alenko for that matter. Officers are allowed to date."
Pressly shakes his head. "Not when they serve on the same damn ship. Not within the ranks. Not when your judgment is called into question, you know that. The chain of command has to come first, you need to be above reproach in your decisions. And 'dating,' Shepard? Dating? How in any way was that wise?"
Shepard shakes her head, unable to answer. Kaidan winces.
"I'm sorry, ma'am. I really am. I'll be sending my report to Anderson at the end of my shift. It's out of my hands. There are regs for a reason. With Saren defeated… this isn't some heat of the moment liaison. You are deliberately breaking regulations. Repeatedly. It has to stop. I've spent my whole life in the service and believe me, nothing good would come of me just ignoring it and hoping that I didn't catch you again."
Shepard sighs and stands, determinedly not even glancing Kaidan's way.
"Alright, Charles," she says softly. "I understand. I fucked up. You have your duty. I'd only request that you make clear that I… I coerced him, that I was the superior officer and that the burden falls fully to me. Leave Kaidan out of it."
"Shepard, no," Kaidan starts. "This was not one-sided. I wanted this."
"Silence, Lieutenant," she snaps at him. "Or I'll order you out of here."
He frowns. "No, you can't take full responsibility for this."
"I can and I will," she answers, her mouth set in a firm grimace.
"Alright, Shepard," Pressly nods.
"Goodnight then, Pressly. I'll leave the shift to you."
Kaidan follows Shepard out of the room, grabbing her by the arm once they're near the shadowy corners of the mess.
"What are you doing?" he hisses. She turns her face up to him, fire in his eyes.
"Trying to save your fucking career."
"What about yours?"
She looks away. "I-I don't know." She rubs a hand at her forehead. "Look, I'm tired, it's late. Go to sleep. We'll deal with it later."
She pulls her arm from his grip and stalks towards her cabin.
"Shepard?"
She turns before she crosses the threshold. "What?"
He's across the room in three long strides, his mouth on hers for a single stolen moment before she steps backwards and he follows, tearing himself away from her for the last time.
"What was that for?" she breathes.
"Goodbye."
He leaves to sleep alone in his pod, sleepless and sick at heart.
Two weeks later, they are torn from a tour in the Terminus by their recall to the Citadel for a crew shakeup and disciplinary action.
Their flight to Alchera is postponed and another ship assigned to geth cleanup in the interim.
Anderson meets Shepard as she disembarks the Normandy with her duffle slung over her shoulder, heavy bags under her eyes.
Kaidan takes a moment to drink her in. Despite the close quarters on the ship it's the most he's seen of her in two weeks. She shuffled the crew roster to make sure that their downtime never matched, the exact opposite of what she used to do.
If he's totally honest with himself, she looks awful, her cheeks sunken and her skin pale. He longs to take her in his arms and ask if she's been eating, if she's been struggling with paperwork or the same dread and fear he has been over the Brass' reaction.
He lingers at the elevator down to C-SEC, trying to convince himself he's not eavesdropping on her reunion with Anderson.
"What the hell, Shepard?!" is what he catches from Anderson, disappointment and anger plain on his face. "I got Pressly's report. Goddamit, I expected so much more from you."
"I'm sorry," she says so quietly that Kaidan can barely hear, looking tiny and defeated next to Anderson's bulk. "Anderson, I'm sorry. It just happened."
"You know what just happens? Mechanical faults. Spilt coffee. A broken finger. You know what doesn't just happen? Repeated and serious fraternization. This is a goddamn mess. You know if the Williams family ever caught wind of this that it could mean a lot of trouble for the Alliance. There's the suggestion of a grave breach of protocol and compromised judgment."
Shepard winces at that and glances shyly in Kaidan's direction, clearly aware he was there the whole time. Anderson notices him, too.
"Get the hell out of here, son, before I shove my boot up your ass for you two idiots ruining the best damn crew I've ever seen."
Kaidan's not intimidated easily, but the fury and disappointment on Anderson's face is too hard to bear.
He has one last glance of Shepard's miserable face before the elevator shuts.