— 3 —
Storms in Multiple Harbors
Kaidan hadn't taken Shepard with him when they visited the Cerberus laboratory on Sanctum. Instead, he went with Ashley and James and T'Soni, all Alliance plus one scientist with a handgun, just in case.
They hadn't talked after Kaidan let Miranda Lawson go, either. They hadn't done anything.
Shepard felt miserable. He had even considered using James' punching bag before he decided it was a ticket straight to a sparring match against the bulkier man. Not that he was afraid of the guy; no, he could take him. If there was someone to be worried about on board, it was Ashley and, of course, Kaidan.
Stubborn bastard, he thought. He had this desperate urge to speak to Steve, to rest his chin on the man's reliable shoulder, hands around him, because the pilot was the only one who supported him all the way, always. But he wasn't there.
He was flying Kaidan. And Ashley and James. The Prothean expert.
Since when did the Alliance use squads of four anyway?
He sighed, rubbed the prickly shadow on his chin. The trip from Feros to Sanctum had taken some time and besides all the reports he'd had to make and all the work he'd had to do he was growing restless and bored again. With Kaidan avoiding him — burying himself in work, no doubt — there was this big hole in his supposed schedule. He had spent time with James and Ashley, hanged out with Jenkins, bothered T'Soni once or twice, visited the Normandy pilot by the name of Joker and heard juicy gossip from the engineers down in deck four, but none of it — none of them — was enough to replace the lopsided smile he hadn't seen in... forever, it felt like.
He could only hope Miranda Lawson was worth all this.
Frustration. It was the only way he could describe this. He was frustrated and cranky, emotionally and physically in need of human contact, and also of forgiveness. He had made a shitty move, throwing all the good the Alliance had done for him and Steve right at Kaidan's face in front of — because of — a stranger. He had apologized — via a message, alright, but he had meant what he had written. Kaidan hadn't sent a reply or even acknowledged his note when they met face-to-face the following morning.
He had barely said hello, face impassive. Polite enough; no glaring, no turning away, no pretending he wasn't there. Just... emotionless. It bothered Shepard; he'd have preferred to have a proper confrontation, get all of this out of their chests, but clearly, Kaidan was the type to sulk.
When they get back, I'm not taking this anymore.
—
Kaidan was the only one in the mess hall when Shepard went to get some tea that night, hours after the man had gotten back from the mission with multiple Prothean artifacts and Cerberus research in tow. He was making himself coffee despite the lateness, not singing or humming or whistling like Shepard always did, but then again, it was not something anyone would have expected of him anyway.
Shepard decided to go for it.
Kaidan jumped when he felt the man's arms around his waist.
"Still brooding?" Shepard whispered close to Kaidan's ear, something feral bubbling inside him out of a sudden. All the words, everything he had planned to say escaped his mind when he pressed the Spectre against the counter. The tea forgotten, he rested his head on the man's shoulder and breathed in, held the air, let it out. It ghosted on Kaidan's neck. Not a caress, but a warning, more like a demand.
Kaidan turned his head a little, tried to get a good look on Shepard. "Stop that." His face was composed, but it was forced. Shepard knew it because he saw the guy's eyes.
The were aflame.
His pulse quickened, but he did not back down. "Make me," he murmured before almost kissing the man's skin. His lips were close as he brought his hand up to trail his fingers along the scar on the back of Kaidan's neck, knowing the area was sensitive.
Kaidan jerked. Turned around, grabbed Shepard by the hips.
"That a challenge?" His voice was steady but dangerous.
It made Shepard hard.
Shepard pushed his leg between Kaidan's, forced them apart. He was not gentle as he squinted his eyes and kept holding onto the man's neck, thumb on the left side and other fingers on the right, knowing he was baiting the soldier in Kaidan with how hard he was pressing with his fingertips. It was the worst kind of touch, pressure on — around — the most vulnerable area, but the man kept his cool.
Shepard hadn't thought about this, but now that he found himself pushing Kaidan's boundaries — out of irritation, frustration, impatience, passion — he couldn't stop. He leaned in. "You bet your ass it is," he almost-snarled, lips brushing the man's jaw.
And there it was, the sharp intake of breath that signaled the breaking of Kaidan's resolve.
Kaidan's grip on his hipbones tightened when the man tensed right before turning them around in one sudden motion, pressing him against the counter and kissing him. The edge of the counter hurt his back but he barely felt it when Kaidan pushed his leg between his and slid his hands behind his thighs and pulled until he was barely standing on his feet anymore. Trapped between Kaidan's thigh and his hands and the hard surface Shepard forgot the time and place.
He could only respond to the ferocious kiss with equal amount of heat and demand. When Kaidan bit on his lower lip, dragged it a little, he surged forward as much as he could to answer with a bite of his own, sucking on the man's deliciously soft lips and the infuriatingly hot scars. He swallowed the sighs they both made, the explosion of anger like the fireworks behind his eyelids. It was hard to breathe, but he wasn't going to back down, not as he was burning up with the flame that could easily be doused if he didn't hold onto it right now, and right now was damn good. His fingers had at whatever point left the guy's neck in favor of messing with the neatly done hair but now he moved them back to the scar on the nape of Kaidan's neck, dragging them around it but never over it, and the man kind of-moaned into Shepard's mouth.
Then the warm body was gone.
Shepard stumbled on his feet, barely aware of what was happening. He stared at Kaidan, wanting to protest, but instead he settled to glaring. It was ineffective with how dilated his pupils probably were and how puffy hips lips felt, but Kaidan started dragging him towards the elevator all the same. Reaching out to him, yanking him along until he moved, and Shepard remembered only now where they actually were.
The elevator was two floors down, so he reached out for Kaidan's waist as they waited. The other man stood his ground, not leaning in or backing down, only lifting his hand to the back of Shepard's neck and pressing on the flushed skin. Neither of them said anything. It wasn't cooling down even if they didn't proceed groping and touching, it was waiting; they weren't making eye contact, but they were still observing, the raggedness of Kaidan's breathing as obvious as the bulge in Shepard's pants.
The elevator doors opened. Shepard went first, pulled Kaidan with him, got pinned between the wall and the man.
Kaidan kissed him, blindly punching the button while Shepard's world was spinning with the swipe of his tongue. "Want you," Shepard managed to mumble. Why he said it, he didn't know, but Kaidan stopped mid-kiss to stare at him. His eyes, his lips, his whole expression was describable with blown — disheveled, ruffled, out of breath — but even then there was more, this bubbling wild ire, barely contained when he took deep breaths through his nose.
Shepard pushed until Kaidan's back hit the far wall as soon as the door opened on the top floor. He grasped the man's shoulder with his left hand and moved his right around the hot body and settled it against the curve of Kaidan's ass. Hips on hips, he bit down on the Spectre's lip, sucked it, dominated the man's mouth. Groped, slid his hand down the back of his thigh and then up again, around, ending his brief exploration on the belt buckle, but there wasn't enough space to work on it properly. Annoyed, Shepard moved to suck behind Kaidan's ear, down his neck, scraping the skin with his stubble when he paused to whisper dirty nothings into the man's ear.
I want you under me. I want you naked.
Kaidan grunted, pulled, rubbed their erections together through four layers of clothing with the movement of his hips. It was enough of a yes for Shepard — not that he needed one, not in this state of mind, not when the other man made it obvious he was all aboard already.
I want you hard, I want you under me. I want you writhing because you need to come, but you can't because I don't allow it.
Shepard slipped his hands under Kaidan's shirt and tore it upwards, only to get stuck when the guy didn't lift his hands. Instead, he was pushed and ordered, damn right, commanded to move, to drag his ass to the captain's cabin and lose the clothes. Shepard didn't comply, because fuck you, that's why — instead he plunged in for the piercing, blunt fingernails dragging on Kaidan's skin. "I want you in my mouth," he continued like the man hadn't said anything, his tone full of stubborn anger. He bit down on the pectoral muscle and yanked the shirt again, finally freeing Kaidan from it when the man came to the smart conclusion and allowed it before the thing got ripped in half. "I want you," Shepard repeated, hissed, mouth busy with the nipple.
Suddenly, Kaidan flashed blue and pushed him with his biotics, forcing him to take a few steps backwards to keep his balance.
"Cabin," the man breathed. "Now."
Shepard wasn't given the option to resist again.
Kaidan dragged him right to bed, pushed him when he tried to hold his ground. The backs of his calves met the edge of the bed and then he was lying on the mattress, hot palms on his chest.
He tried to move. He couldn't.
Kaidan was glowing, blue swirling around him.
"You forget," the infuriatingly smug biotic said then, pushing Shepard's shirt up and opening his belt, just like that, "that I can do this, and —" he hovered his face above the other man's, lips moving almost close enough to touch, "— there is absolutely nothing you can do."
[ Scene illustrated by Trinode (replace the _ with . because FFnet is being a jerk with the links): trinode_tumblr_com/post/51075475632/art-for-shajs- tumblr-ao3-story-for-mebb-spring ]
Shepard let out a sound that in no way resembled a whimper. It was annoyance as much as it was pure arousal, the need rising tenfold with the inability to move. He wasn't going to submit, not now, but Kaidan's lips were close and he couldn't think, especially not when the man pushed his tongue inside his mouth at the exact same moment he pushed Shepard's fatigues and boxers out of the way.
His hand was on Shepard's dick.
Shepard needed to breathe, desperately, and he took air in like he had been drowning when Kaidan moved to kiss and suck and bite his neck. He strained, moved his hips, tried to free himself, but the only thing he accomplished was loss of friction and warmth as Kaidan stopped touching him, moved to sit on his thighs.
"Not fair," Shepard protested. His cheeks felt hot, his whole body on fire, dick twitching against his stomach.
Kaidan just watched him. Observed.
He was still glowing.
"Don't talk," he finally ordered, suddenly bringing his hips against Shepard's. The man bit back a damn moan, and then Kaidan was moving, sitting properly on top of him. He dragged his ass against him, and Shepard could've sworn he felt the biotic aura on his bare skin along with the rough fabric of Kaidan's fatigues.
He disobeyed. "Dammit, Major, now get down here or so help me —"
Kaidan smiled. A slow, lopsided, mirthless grin, almost feral and just that alarming, but it went right to Shepard's gut.
"That so?"
Kaidan kissed his chest and stomach and hips, the inside of his thigh. He pulled Shepard's fatigues down all the way, crouched to take off his boots; then lifted his upper body and moved his arms so he could remove the shirt as well. Completely naked and vulnerable, Shepard's dick twitched and he felt dizzy with need and his body was burning with heat, and, fuck, he was almost rhyming.
Kaidan looked at him. Just looked, face flushed, lips huge and soft and wet, and Shepard wanted him to suck his dick more than he had ever wanted anything, ever.
The moment dragged on.
In the end, Shepard begged. He couldn't remember the reason why winning this had been so important, why he had been so pissed off. All he could think of was the hot mouth, the skilled tongue.
Please.
His voice was barely audible and hoarse. Kaidan tilted his head, a small smile pulling the corners of his mouth, one before the other. This time, the expression was almost gentle, the fire of his eyes settled to something equally hot and fierce but still different. Still commanding, but teasing. He lowered himself, hovered his lips above the tip of Shepard's dick, breathing hot air against the sensitive skin.
"Didn't hear you," he said.
"Come on!" Shepard was whining, trying to arch himself up, but Kaidan held him in place with his palm and his biotics. It was pure torture, that's what it was, no matter how pleasurable and full of promise. "You win! Please."
Slowly — looking smug, some distant part of Shepard's brain noted, but he filed it as unimportant and focused on the sensations — Kaidan kissed the tip. Shepard squeezed his eyes shut, not able to hold back the whimpers. The man dragged his tongue from there to the bottom, along the big vein, then up again, and Shepard tried to keep breathing, but it was so damn hard — and then he was in Kaidan's mouth, all of him, and it felt hot and wet and good and he wanted more, so much more, inside of him, outside of him, everywhere, right now. Kaidan worked on him but made sure not to make it too good, fingers curled around the bottom of his shaft as he moved his head up and down in rhythm. His other hand was under Shepard's balls, then on his ass, and Shepard strained his muscles when he tried to push himself down, up, down again like he couldn't decide which way to thrust.
Kaidan nudged his leg a little, made himself some more room between Shepard's thighs. Then he pushed a finger inside his ass.
Shepard grabbed Kaidan's hair, barely noticing the fact he actually could, not pinned down by biotics anymore. He bent his knee, tilting himself, and the biotic — the aura was still there even though he wasn't using his jedi tricks anymore — took all of him into his mouth again, moving his tongue at the same time, licking him, and —
Pushed deeper.
Harder. More insistent.
Shepard was gasping for air, trying not to come, but he was close, too close, and then Kaidan swiped his tongue and sucked and Shepard opened his eyes, looked at the other man between his legs, down there, and with that, it was over.
He pushed Kaidan away when he came. Some of it got in the guy's mouth and on his face anyway but the rest was on Shepard's stomach and chest, hot and embarrassing and there was so much of it, and why am I even thinking about this? He was struggling to breathe again, limp and relaxed and oddly happy.
Kaidan's eyes were dark as he gazed on him.
He took off. Shepard was just about to protest when he realized the man was going to the bathroom to get a towel hopefully, and when he saw the cloth in Kaidan's hand he relaxed again. He was cleaned with gentle, trembling hands.
He sat up. Grabbed Kaidan's hair, pulled him for a kiss.
Kaidan still had his boots on. He was on his knees, half-clothed, sweaty, which was unacceptable — the clothes part, not the thing with the sweat. And finally, Shepard had the chance to rectify that. He opened the man's belt, wordlessly pushed his fatigues down, moved to unlace his shoes. Got him naked, too; gave him a long, hot stare, not yet ready for another round himself but he could be soon enough with a sight like this.
He touched Kaidan, made him hiss. He was damn hard, painfully so, and he gasped when Shepard curled his fingers around his dick. It was obvious he wouldn't last long, but he didn't need to, either, and he submitted to Shepard's hands.
Shepard's mouth.
Shepard mimicked the tantalizing swirls of Kaidan's tongue and the man actually cursed, and with a few more strokes, he was done.
He got Shepard a glass of water, afterwards, then flopped back to bed. He looked tired, but peaceful for once. Shepard coughed, put the glass on the table.
He remembered why he had been so pissed off.
He wasn't sure if he was welcome to join Kaidan, so he stayed up, shifting his weight from one foot to another. He didn't want to dress, to leave, but he had the feeling he should have.
"I should go," he said flatly. Kaidan opened his eyes, stared at him, some of the annoyance creeping back to his gaze, but it wasn't the same as before. It was a lot gentler.
"What?"
Shepard scratched his chin. "I, uh..." When the Spectre looked at him like this, sharp and steady, he looked exactly like the person he was — Major Spectre Alenko, Alliance Navy, and Shepard could only feel small in comparison. "Are we good, Kaidan?" he finally murmured, breath catching on the name.
He felt exposed. But Kaidan's eyes were inviting, challenging in a non-threatening way. He patted the space beside him, and wordlessly, Shepard followed the silent command.
Not a command. A suggestion, maybe even a request.
The bed didn't creak, but the mattress shifted under his weight. It wasn't a bad thing, just something he noticed when he felt so... fragile, so unsure of himself. It meant he made an impact, for better or for worse, and he could only hold his ground and wait for the confirmation on which way it goes.
Kaidan slid his arm over his waist, shifting closer. He pressed a soft kiss on Shepard's forehead, then another on his temple and finally one on his lips. "Yeah," he whispered as he pulled away, not far. "We're good." His voice still had some edge to it, but he wasn't the type to lie, so Shepard believed him.
He smiled, slowly letting the tension bleed away again. "Good," he mumbled, already dozing off. He allowed Kaidan's heavy breathing and steady heartbeat to lull him to sleep.
—
Shepard was taken to the next mission. He was also — along with T'Soni — invited to the reporting session Kaidan had with Anderson, afterwards; he was kicked out after making his reports and answering a couple of oddly unrelated questions like the ones involving his childhood, though.
Maybe they had some trouble digging up his past. Either way, he had given the names of his parents, his brother, told the older man about the day the Alliance hadn't been there for them. Told him about the batarians and the other prisoners, what little he had learned. He hadn't been specific, because all of that wasn't something he cherished reliving, but it had been enough for Anderson.
He had even apologized for bringing the matter up.
Shepard wandered to the cargo bay, not sure what to do. Steve was working on the shuttle, fixing imagined flaws probably, calibrating, working his ass off for no proper reason simply because he loved doing that stuff so much. James was setting up his personal little gym, meaning to start his work out routine.
Shepard leaned on the Kodiak. "Hey, Steve." He smiled a little when the man peeked behind the shuttle, surprised to hear his voice. He could almost see the grease stains on his clothes and face even though there were none; it was simply an image he associated so strongly with this sort of work they might as well have been there.
The man's eyes lit up and he grinned. "Hey. Didn't see you coming here."
Amused, Shepard picked dirt from under his nails. "Funny. Usually you're not that absorbed in work. I wonder if there's something on your mind beside Kodiak's thrusters."
Steve laughed, circling around the back of the shuttle to get to him. "Maybe I was thinking of you. Haven't seen you around much lately outside of missions."
Shepard shrugged. "We've both been busy. Could use the company now, though. What's up?" He crossed his arms on his chest. James was now doing push ups on the floor, the movement of his muscles obvious as he used them even with the shirt on and everything. It caught Shepard's attention; from the corner of his eye he could see he wasn't the only one. "Quite a view you've got here, Steve."
The man just laughed, the bastard. There was no way to embarrass him anymore. "Yeah. And don't for a second think he doesn't know it himself. Hey, Mr. Vega!" he called the last part louder, his voice reaching James, easy. "Be careful not to pull something!"
Shut up, Esteban, came the reply.
The corner of Shepard's mouth pulled upwards. "I see you two are getting along." His tone was sly, but he managed to hold back the eyebrow waggle, if only barely. "Esteban, huh?"
Steve smiled. He settled next to Shepard, back on the Kodiak, eyes on James' moving form. "He likes giving nicknames," he explained, as if Shepard didn't already know. "Ashley's Boomstick. Kaidan's Jedi. I like that one."
Shepard nodded. Yeah. It was incredibly clever of James to figure out what Kaidan liked — or maybe the man had told him himself at some point.
Maybe Shepard should start calling him Jedi too. He could be the Scoundrel. Except, of course, those two didn't pair up — which was a damn shame, was all he had to say about that.
"So how're you doing?" Shepard asked, shaking himself out of his musings. It was downright silly, although he couldn't help but wonder how Kaidan would react if he introduced him to that particular idea. The man had pretty much forced him to watch the original Star Wars movies when he was stuck in detention, after all — the ages old ones they included as extras on Star Wars: Re-Edited Return of the Sci-fi Classic Trilogy Pack Holo Special Edition 2100 that had actually been released on 2166. It was a pleasant memory, although Shepard didn't really understand why it had been such a bad thing he had only seen the new re-re-re-re-edited versions before that night. It was the same story, even the same dialogue for the most part — so what's the big deal? For crying out loud.
Steve shifted, glancing at Shepard. "Good," he said sounding like he really meant it. "So I take it you're too?"
"I suppose." Memories of the nights he had shared with the Spectre flashing in his mind, Shepard grinned. "Biotics are awesome."
Steve frowned. "I'm not sure I want to know where that came from. But yeah, I guess they are."
This time, Shepard did the eyebrow wiggle, but mostly just because this was Steve and he could do anything and the guy would only pat his shoulder, maybe shake his head.
So he asked about James, seriously this time, because he had seen Steve flirting before and the way he held himself around the young marine definitely fit under that definition. The looks, the smiles, the choice of words — it was all there. It wasn't Shepard watching the world through hanar pink glasses and seeing love everywhere because he happened to be — not in love, but something, himself. It wasn't him wanting Steve to find someone as well, wanting him to feel the same as he does, he was... simply observant.
Steve didn't reply. Shepard used the silence to study his friend's face.
He wasn't wrong.
James moved to sit-ups. Steve cleared his throat, rubbed his palms on his fatigues. "We've spent more time together," he admitted. "He's a good guy. He's not as reckless and young as he looks like at the first glance."
"Hmm." Shepard scratched the back of his head. "Figures we'd both end up with the Alliance types." He glanced back at the marine in question, saw that James' face was flushed by now, sweaty and hot. He could certainly see the appeal; the thrill of having someone physically so strong, bicep the size of both of his arms combined. Belly so damn flat and hard he would barely flinch if hit there. It was close to having a biotic, someone who didn't need such muscles to be even more lethal.
Shepard snapped his attention back to Steve. "I like James," he said. He really did. His brotherly instincts didn't go off, for one — if he didn't honestly feel James and Steve could work, he'd already be giving the former one of those good old-fashioned don't-you-dare-hurt-him-or-I-will-end-you speeches. Secondly, the lad was okay. Good company. Knack for nicknames. Great taste in movies as well — they'd had a 30-minute discussion about the character development of Blasto during the films one day.
Steve didn't get to answer when the elevator doors opened and Kaidan strode in. Shepard's attention shifted immediately even before he could take in the man's grim expression, the set of his jaw. He could almost swear his biotics were flickering too, which meant he was on edge.
And if something other than Shepard himself made Major Spectre Alenko that way, he had every reason to worry.
