Laurel woke even more tired from her nap, a lethargy spreading through her limbs as she sat herself up. Marik beside her was already awake, his torso now dressed. She was covered with a blanket, something thicker than what she was used to in his apartment. Marik's look was pensive as he sat there, studying her with tenderness she hadn't seen him display before. She smiled at him slightly, pulling herself up with the blanket around her. There was something about this that made her feel undeniably sexy.
"How long you been watching me?" she said, ruffling her curly hair. He looked away as if slightly embarrassed that she'd caught him.
"Not long. I was curious to how humans slept," he admitted sheepishly.
"I tend to sleep heavily. Always have done," she replied.
"I'm the opposite," he told her. She smiled at him. They laughed together softly before falling quiet.
"We're showing our age… falling asleep like that," she said, watching the expression on his face. She still found turians incredibly hard to read.
"I'm the one who's getting old, Laurel. You're still young." Young in numbers but I feel like I've lived a thousand years, she thought. They were quiet for a few minutes, her looking away thinking of what transpired an hour or so ago, him studying her carefully.
"Your skin just under your torso, by your rib cage?" he said all matter-of-fact now, causing her to turn and raise her eyebrows. "What happened to it?"
"So it's ok for you to ask questions but not me? How about quid pro quo, Marik?" she said to him, her expression oddly vacant masking her irritation. He gave her a slight nod.
"I… It's a burn scar," she explained, moving the blanket down to show him slightly, but not completely. She felt a little self-conscious at this point, forgetting her fearlessness earlier. Cautiously he drew one talon over the puckered skin, which extended over the bottom half of her rib cage. The scar looked devastating; he had his own scarring that extended up the side of his neck and cowl but it didn't look as bad as this. The damaged skin was discoloured in places and had loosened in others. Some of it remained risen and pink, an angry mark.
"As part of my punishment I was stationed on Korlus for ten months," she said, meeting his gaze firmly. His mouth dropped open.
"That's… why would the Alliance do that?" he said, aghast. She shrugged her shoulders indifferently.
"Like everything else, there is corruption in the Alliance. For a time they were sending prisoners to Korlus because of overcrowding in prisons. It was cheaper to send us there rather than acquire the funds to build another prison in space or on some remote colony. We were colonising fast in the Skyllian Verge back then. They couldn't keep up with the rapid expansion at times."
"Were Alliance personnel stationed there?" he asked. She shook her head.
"They employed a 'private security company' named Arga which was basically a misfit band of mercs. The other mercs, Blue Suns mainly, had nothing to do with our presence there, but they were a constant threat, as well as the scavengers."
"There is a lot of corruption there," he said gravelly, knowing all-too-well.
"We were housed in a large warehouse with pretty tight security but even if we escaped the scavengers or mercs, the shitty environment would get you. We didn't have much privacy in that warehouse, basically screens to separate the beds. A communal bathroom comprising of two shower cubicles. Shitty meals and sometimes if Arga let Blue Suns get involved, which they did, occasional beatings," she explained. In response, Marik began to feel his talons curl together; his mandibles tightened as he pressed his mouth plates together in a hard line.
"We were sent out every day, often working ridiculously long hours. There were quite a few who died. Why get anyone else when you can get lowly prisoners to do it for you? They tagged us with electronic devices; we were like a modern day version of a chain gang. We dismantled Alliance ships mainly, with a few exceptions. The combined smog and heat made the work near unbearable. We used plasma torches and other pieces of equipment but they were in limited supply and often dangerous to use. The authorities there have no environmental regulations. They just let the waste spill onto the environment and into the atmosphere. Christ knows if native flora and fauna existed there."
"What did the Alliance tell the families of the deceased?" Marik asked.
"I don't know," she sighed. "Some bullshit, anyway. A lot of us had injuries. One guy lost an arm, another ended up with cancer. This shipyard operated without the risk of lawsuits or unions because it was all so secret. All the Alliance did each time Arga reported was compensate the families or the individuals. We had gas masks and protective equipment but sometimes that did little against explosions or falling pieces of metal. Reaping the economic benefits was more important than taking care of the workers, clearly."
"So what happened to you?" he demanded, angered now.
"Explosion. A fuel tank wasn't drained. I actually got away lightly, believe it or not. The others there had worse burns. We didn't have adequate medical facilities to properly treat the burns. I was operated on, had skin grafts but it was pre-golden age medical care. Nothing like back home. We were only prisoners, criminals , after all."
"Laurel…" he whispered, putting his hand over hers. Whoa, that's too close.
"It's fine," she brushed him off, pulling the blanket back over her body, turning from him. He was being too kind; he was making her feel too vulnerable with this outpouring of information. She didn't know where she was headed, as she took off towards the nearest exit, blanket tightly pulled round her chest.
"It isn't fine," he persisted, blocking her exit with his body. Laurel craned her neck to look at him straight in the eyes.
"It's got to be fine. Otherwise I'll go mad," she told him, her jaw clenching. There was a soft look in his face that she wasn't used to seeing. He cupped her clenched jaw with a tenderness that was almost human. She pressed her cheek into his rough hand earnestly, hearing his quiet intake of breath. His face was so serious, so… she couldn't read it as he gently stroked her.
"What is it?" Laurel asked. He shook his head, removing his hand from her face, even though there was something on the tip of his tongue. They looked at each other for a while longer, knowing the hunger. Knowing that they needed and wanted to quench the hunger for each other with sex. She bit her lip in anxiety, wanting to kiss him again, knowing wit the way he stood so close to her that he wanted the same. Yet she turned into the bathroom and closed the door.
Several days later they finally had another evening off together. They had been on each other's minds constantly. When Marik returned from work she was curled up on the sofa, standing up anxiously to see him. Laurel watched the way his alien muscles flexed underneath his suit as he took off his remaining armour after they'd exchanged pleasantries. His face looked serious, although it was always hard to tell with turians. She was sure she'd heard him masturbating that morning, although perhaps that was wishful thinking. She'd woken earlier than expected, hoping to have a bath before he woke up. Instead she heard him panting, his deep voice reverberating through the wall. Not much had been said later that evening, but she'd gone up to him as he changed in his bedroom, the unspoken desire between them undeniable.
Stepping towards her, he curved his arms round her waist, pulling her in. She pressed the tips of her fingers into his upper back, feeling the strong yet supple plates move delicately as he breathed deeply. Boldly, she moved to plant kisses on his bumpy neck, nipping and licking the tangy-tasting plates, which felt hard on her teeth. She had to stand on her tippy toes to do this, stretching her body far enough that her muscles strained slightly. Thankfully, he leaned lower into her touch as she continued to kiss him, her lips tingling as she did so.
He walked her to the wall behind, pushing one of his legs in-between hers, effectively cradling her against the wall. She pulled her clothes off while keeping her eyes steady on him, beckoning him. Pupils blown wide again, Marik lowered his face into the crook between neck and shoulder, his talons moving to touch her scalp, tugging lightly on her coiled hair. Aroused he tightened his grip on her hair as his other hand groped her ass, breathing heavily. Her hands felt gingerly around his pants, seeing if she could loosen them but she couldn't find anything to undo them.
"I'm at a disadvantage," she whispered into the side of his head where an ear should be. She heard him chuckle ever so slightly as he moved from her, keeping his eyes on her unblinkingly. He turned around with his hands behind his back indicating a barely-there fastener. She placed her hands on his, pushing them away gently to do it herself. The garment felt needlessly complicated to her, woven round his waist several times before splitting down either leg.
"And I thought human clothes could be complex," she joked.
"You don't have spikes," he replied.
Her heart began to beat hard. What was she expecting? He didn't have his boots on, and he pulled off the garment on his feet. His feet were curiously like his talons – much larger and sharper (yikes, her mind thought). His back was broad, curved, interspersed with its fair share of – scars? – among the various russet and mushroom browns that coloured his skin. His waist was small yet contrasted with his broad back was beginning to feel irrefutably attractive to her. She could see the knobbed outlines of his spine, which began under the ending of his curved hood. She moved the tips of her fingers softly over his plated buttocks before he turned round slowly, meeting her gaze.
"Laurel…" he said, cupping her rounded cheek with his talons. Why did she feel so shy? She was avoiding looking at him – she could feel his hard, warm member rest against her stomach as he pulled her close.
"You seem as if you've done this with a human before," she murmured, not meeting his gaze.
"I haven't. Not with an asari either. I… took to researching," he said, the purr back in his voice. Her cheeks and neck blossomed with pink. How long has he been sexually attracted to me?
"I do like it when you colour like that," he growled, hoisting her upwards into his arms and walking back to the bed.
"You seem awfully sure of yourself. How long exactly have you been…?" her words trailed off as they lay side by side, him propped up by his muscular arms, her by her elbows on her back. There was a bluish pre-cum swirled on her stomach and her eyes drifted to him un-beckoned. Totally unsheathed it was unsurprisingly the softest-looking part of him, ridged with a rounded bulbous head. A deep blue, much like the colour of his tongue and blood. His pre-cum enticingly dripped down onto the blankets under them. She swallowed.
"Essentially our biology is not too different," he began, voice low and buzzing with impatience, excitement. "Why don't we forget the research…. what would your first move as a human be?"
His look was so genuine, so undeniably charming. Leaning forward tentatively, she cupped his mandible and brought his face to hers. She kissed his mouth plates, nipping and suckling before moving her tongue to meet his. He responded awkwardly, like a schoolboy, unfamiliar with her movements, but she heard the purr intensify in his sub-vocals. His hand was kneading her hip in response, trailing up to fondle her breast. The taste of him was bitter and left a tingly sensation on her tongue. She'd worry about reactions later.
"That was… interesting," he said, pupils blown wide.
"You've just had your first kiss," she smiled. He then swiftly pulled her under him, running a single talon over her core, which was burning with desire. She felt his throbbing cock, and then gripped it firmly in her hand. She moved her hand up and down slowly with a painstaking precision as she parted her legs.
"I've dreamed of this," he murmured, hoisting her legs onto his hips and positioning himself against her entrance. This confession sent a shudder through her crotch up to the back of her throat. He leant over to grab a condom from his bedside table, keeping his eyes on her as he rolled it on with painstaking precision. His legs caged her in-between his own and she almost squirmed from impatience, wanting him to fill her.
He moved his cock tantalisingly over her labia, spreading her wetness and circling her clit until she let out a soft moan. It was a tense moment for him to position himself comfortably, leaning over her closely so that she could feel his hot breath on her neck. Her fingers dug into the mattress, closing her eyes. His erect cock pushed into her as he slowly lowered his position on the mattress. He was being deliberately gentle but at this point she felt so aroused she wanted him to thrust hard and fast. She clenched in slight pain as he panted above her. The muscles in her vagina were being stretched to proportions that hadn't been stretched in a while.
"Are you alright?" he said, pressing his hot mouth against her ear. A shiver cascaded down her spine.
"It's a bit uncomfortable...but that's to be expected," she said, breathless. He didn't feel as big as he had looked, but he was warm and solid as her vaginal muscles accepted him. His arms moved underneath her back so he held her tightly within his grasp. Inadvertently with this movement, he had deeply buried himself and she bit back a half-cry, half moan.
"You are…." he said as he began to shift within her, a delicious, itching warmth spreading through her thighs and backside. Whatever he was going to say next was lost on the tip of his tongue.
"I take that as a good sign?" she said. He only hummed in response as she moved her legs further upwards and locked her feet behind his back. He began to give slow, deliberate hard thrusts yet as he did so she could feel his cock swell further inside her.
"Whoa," was her first response. He chuckled a little. Still cradling her he brought them up to a sitting position at the edge of the bed with her on his lap, her legs either side of new position knocked all the breath out of her.
"You seem surprised," he said, beginning to play with her nipples.
"I… I didn't expect it," she whispered, meeting his lustful gaze. "You're giving me all the power sitting here like this." He was so deep inside her that she felt black spots swim beneath her vision. She could feel each ridge on his cock pressing against her inner walls, now that he had swollen bigger inside, forcing her to accept him.
"I'm stretching you as far as you can stretch," he murmured, nuzzling her neck.
His intention was clear; he moved a talon down to her clit, gently stimulating it with the pad of his finger and eliciting a moan from her. She began to thrust, her breasts bouncing and sweat gathering on her forehead. Yet as she did so, a sharp pain began to radiate from her inner thighs. Pleasure was mixed with pain as they found a rhythm, her cheeks slapping against his large, muscular thighs. Her head craned back as she pounded harder, feeling his hot breath on her nipples. At this point he had stretched her beyond belief, so much she couldn't contain her gasps of pleasure and slight discomfort. He moved his hands to her buttocks, cushioning her falls yet making her thrust harder, forcing himself deeper into her. As they built up a memento however, the pain felt on the inside of her thighs was becoming somewhat unbearable. Oh but she didn't want to stop, and neither did he. He felt too good, and she heard him moaning softly, his deep voice reverberating through her as he licked and nipped and breathed on her chest.
"Ah fuck!" she shouted, at the cusp of pure heat and pure agony. Immediately he stopped, forcing her to as well. The throbbing was there now, real and awful in all its glory.
"Laurel?" he said, eyes wide, possibly terrified he'd hurt her. His sensitivity was touching.
"Holy Christ that hurts…. What the fuck? Am I having an allergic reaction?" she said, touching her body in sudden anxiety as if worried an extra arm had protruded from some orifice or other. He looked briefly amused.
"I didn't think a human having sex with a turian would be so…. Overwhelming," he teased her. As a warning she clenched her inside muscles, wiping the smirk off his face.
"Another stunt like that and I'll be burying it all inside you," he growled in her ear, pulling her forward and nipping her earlobe sharply. Disappointment flooded her however.
"My thighs feel like they've been doused in acid," she moaned. His features grew serious and looked down to her legs, parting them slightly to take a better look.
"Your skin is so very sensitive," he told her.
"So it looks as bad as it feels then," Laurel said, watching his reaction. With tenderness he encircled her in his arms and pulled her upwards so he slipped out of her. She quivered with a sigh, feeling a slick trail on her thighs and stomach. Back on her heels she assessed the damage. The skin of her inside thighs was raw pink in some parts, chafed red in other. There was a bloody smattering both on her thighs and his.
They stung, beating the same rhythm as her fast breaths. The blood trickled down her leg a little. Some of it had smeared on his clean white sheets. His mouth was open with panting from their previous efforts, as she met his eyes.
"Spirits…" was all he said. His yellow eyes were wide open.
"It's okay," she said, hoping it would reassure him. She unfolded her legs and moved off the bed. She turned back to face him. Her eyes couldn't help but look at his opened plates with his cock still erect.
"I think I've got some cream in my bag somewhere-"
"I didn't realise…. was I being too rough?" he asked. Laurel smiled at him.
"You're cute when you're all concerned," she replied, now wandering to the bathroom, throwing a look over her shoulder. She was going to wash away the spattering of blood on her thighs, when he was at the door in an instant. He had that look on his face again. Approaching her with a dark look, he put his hand on her bony shoulder.
"How about… we try it in the bath? With me behind? That way we can avoid further chafing…"
Quirking an eyebrow, she gave him a small smirk. Taking this to be an affirmative, he walked towards the bath, which was built deep into the floor. While he filled the ceramic tub, Laurel continued wiping the blood and rubbed skin away. By the time she was finished with her skin smarting, he was already in the water patiently watching her. His gaze still unnerved her, even if it was one full of yearning. Sitting down, she placed her calves into the water. It was deliciously warm, the heat spreading through her limbs.
"Not too hot?" Marik commented. "I know you dislike heat. You figured how to turn the heating down in my apartment…" She bit her lip a little in amusement, trying not to laugh. Taking her waist he eased her slowly into the water, her skin stinging like a hot poker. The water reached her chest when her feet touched the tiled floor.
"Wow, this is deep for a bath," she joked, feeling the warmth encase and relax her body. I could get used to this.
"For a puny human, yes," he replied, looking deadly serious as he said it.
"Puny? That one's old as the hills, Marik," she said, laughing, deftly kicking him in the shin. He couldn't help but wince at her kick, but moved to grasp her waist again. She dived under the water expertly dodging his hands, moving through the water and popped up the other side of him. Her coiled hair was now flattened. Turning round, he pinned her against the wall of the bath with his arms, his gaze intense.
"Are you ready to try again?" he murmured, sending a vibration through her chest.
"You bet," she replied, as he pulled her up against him.
"I don't know how I'm gonna keep being gentle with you," he confessed, putting his talons round her neck. Her heart skipped a beat as he did so. He tilted her head, giving his mouth better access to the long smooth slope of her freckled neck. Her fingers drifted up to behind his fringe, manipulating the surprisingly soft skin there, making him groan deeply. The water tantalisingly rippled round them.
"Show me how to… kiss again," he murmured, yellow eyes burning through her.
Tentatively, Laurel leaned forward and softly nipped at his upper mouth plate. He couldn't flex his mouth as much without lips but he was a quick learner. She felt his tongue penetrate her mouth, running it along her teeth and letting his own sharp pincers gently bite her lower lip. They continued like this for a while, enjoying the warmth of the bath and exploring each other's vastly different bodies. When she turned round and braced her forearms on the floor by the edge of the bath, the new position certainly had her forgetting about the sting of her thighs. This time he wasn't slow. She threw her head back against his shoulder as he thrusted hard into her. Both him and the water carried a lot of her weight and she hooked her feet round the back of his legs.
"How does it feel, Laurel…" he hissed into her ear, the deep baritone of his voice making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She felt him filling and stretching her again with his thrusts, hard and slow. She couldn't speak, feeling like her organs were being pushed into her throat with each drive of his cock. The water spilled over the top of the bath, sloshing noisily across the floor.
"To have a turian…" he was panting hard in her ear as he nestled his head on the crook of her shoulder. The water was sloshing loudly around them. The wet tendrils of her hair stuck hotly to her neck and cheek.
"…Fuck you harder and better than a human?" His thrusts began to speed up. For a moment she couldn't think of anything else but the tremendously overpowering feeling inside her.
"Who says… you're better?" Laurel managed to breathe.
The hand that was on her waist drifted down to her groin, parting the lips of her labia and circled a single talon carefully round the swollen nub that was her clitoris. Her clit burned with want, sending an itching surge travelling up her body. He pressed his mouth plates hard against her ear, breathing hotly onto her cheek. His movements were overpowering her, her chest constricting and her abdomen pressing hard against the ceramic of the tub. This position was perfect for him to drive deeper into her. He cupped her breast, his head still nestled in the crook her of her shoulder.
"Your smell… your moans… give it all away," he began, moving his talons to clutch her thighs, digging them in. Her hand now worked furiously over her clit, fraught with aching desire. He was certainly being rough with her now – the thrusts were almost painful and would've put her off if it weren't the fact that it was him doing it.
"Your heart rate, ungh… that glorious… blush on your neck," he hissed.
Her body shuddered in a sudden blissful orgasm, sagging in his arms. He panted hard and fast in her ear, and clutched her tightly as he came powerfully, shuddering and moaning. She could feel new warmth in the water. Her eyes drifted down to see a slim trickle of blue in the water. For a moment they both stood there in the comfortable warm water, breathing hard. She felt his breath on the nape of her neck. Slowly she turned round to face him, almost shyly but grinning. His gaze was fixed on the water encasing them, his mouth open slightly. He didn't move, his eyes unblinking. She spoke his name, feeling the sting in her thighs. He moved forward, placing his hands on the tiles and lifted himself powerfully out of the water. Grabbing a large towel, he wrapped it round his waist and walked out of the bathroom. Laurel watched the water ripple, red and blue mixed together. Her vagina throbbed. A moment later when she took a towel for herself, blood and cum running down her legs, she saw him drying and clothing himself. This strange coldness hurt.
"What's the matter?" she asked. He looked up at her surprised.
"No matter," he replied, his face looking serene – serene enough for a turian. He saw the knitting of her brows and stopped what he was doing, approaching her.
"Are you alright? No… reactions as such?" he said. She smiled in response, unfolding her arms and moving a tender hand to touch his exposed bicep.
"Nothing so far…. it seemed like there was something the matter when you finished," she said. His expression turned sheepish as he drew his eyes away from her, mandibles clamping.
"Sorry Laurel…. It's hard to gauge human comfort and expression at times," he replied. This didn't surprise her, but she felt he wasn't being entirely honest. Did he feel shocked that he'd just fucked a human? A human - a species whom he once claimed to despise?
"Do all turian partners just finish up quickly like that?" she said, her tone becoming playful. She didn't want this to sour when it had been so amazing so far.
"Well… of course?" he said, confused.
"Humans tend to cuddle a little afterwards…." She replied. She heard him purr in response, slinging an arm round her waist and pulling her into an embrace. She ignored his previous coldness and the stinging of her thighs, to enjoy his warmth.
The workplace soon drove them apart again. As they both mostly worked long hours, there were times when they didn't see each other for days on end. Marik wasn't sure where she was currently working, if indeed she managed to get her old job back again or found another. He thought bar work was below her, but she didn't happen to agree, or even challenge it. After they'd had sex, he cooked her another glorious meal and they'd talked about their lives. She imparted with more information than him – which was the usual. It amused him to think that he was less inclined to do this even though he had proposed having sex. He asked her more questions however, not giving her time to ask him anything. The painting on her skin intrigued him – what was it exactly? She said it was a tattoo of a bird, specifically what humans call a bird of prey. This bird was an osprey, one that she had watched with her mother when she'd been a child. Her passion and devotion to her parent (and to that bird, he admitted) was touching. He'd never formed anything as close with his parents.
It wasn't like him to ignore problems, but then again maybe it was like him. The sex had felt incredible, despite the interruption. Her body was softer, more pliable. Her extra two fingers manipulated his skin tantalisingly. He liked her neck, found it hard not to bite down on it as he might've done with other, more turian partners. He hadn't realised how much the friction between their bodies would damage her skin. It was difficult to be gentle with her because it was hard to hold back. Their biology was remarkably similar but still so different simultaneously. Yet it was hard to wash away the feeling of guilt, shame and dirtiness. Guilt because he'd tortured her all those years ago; shame because she was much younger and dirtiness because she was a human. In fact the last reason could be applied to all those feelings. His parents would've turned in their graves. His superiors and peers would ridicule him. Vuren would find the opportunity to do so almost immediately. He'd be looked down upon. His species were not unfamiliar with interspecies sex – of course they'd known the asari for years now. But humans were not to be trusted. These thoughts often stirred a quiet anger in him, and his mind automatically wanted to stoke it with the bottle under his bed. It was so simple. When evening arrived, he heard the front door open.
His eyes drifted over her as he came down the stairs; she wore her usual getup of jeans, plaid shirt and sneakers with her hair bundled on top of her head. She held a paper bag.
"What's in the bag?" he questioned her. She walked up to him, unafraid. She should be afraid, his subconscious chimed in.
"I saw a doctor, gave me some advice… and some special cream. As well as tablets," the human replied, shrugging her shoulders. Glacial blue eyes took him in, threatening to disarm him. He hadn't noticed before but he saw faint brown flecks circle the outer edges of her pupils.
"Good day off?" she asked, turning away and putting the bag on the countertop in the kitchen. He wanted to rile her up, make her feel shame like he was feeling. Instead he took another slurp from his bottle and uncharacteristically slumped on the sofa. He didn't hear her move for a few minutes. Eventually she sat on the armchair facing him, her eyes burning into the bottle he held.
"This feels wrong, Laurel," he eventually told her after minutes upon minutes of silence. It made him ache to say it. Not when she was sitting there, so kind and open and… and-and beautiful-
"I can guess why you're being like this," she said, surprising him. His gaze flicked back to her. "You enjoyed the sex and you're too proud to admit that maybe, somewhere in that cold heart of yours, you've feelings for me."
"You presume too much. Feeling and fucking are two different things," he answered. Her eyebrows knitted in confusion.
"I don't think you really believe that, Marik." He wasn't looking at her, the bottle clutched tightly in his hands. He didn't say anything, assuming her patience wouldn't last. But she sounded oddly calm in all this, even though he was aching to fight with her – so much more familiar.
"Look, for what it's worth, I had a good time," she said. It sounded final to him. Let her go. You need to let her go, you old fool. She stood back up, grabbing her bag.
"You stay until I tell you to go," he said, making her raise an eyebrow. She then carefully prised the bottle out of his tight grasp, his talons scraping against the glass. Her gaze was wary, wondering if he'd lash out verbally or perhaps physically. The alcohol made his head heavy and whirl like he was swimming in butter. Her delicate slim fingers then traced his metallic skin, curling round his mandible. Even in his state, he felt a pulse, a longing.
"Don't do it, Marik," she said softly. She continued to stroke his face, particularly along the scar that up the side of his neck.
"I want to know you," she added. His jaw tensed.
"You humans have a saying – 'let sleeping dogs lie'. I'd say that counts. I might've fucked you but that doesn't give you a free pass in knowing everything about me," he said. Her hand drew away sharply.
"You're a real bastard sometimes, Marik," she snapped. "So unpredictable you're nearly bipolar." That did it. He seized her wrist before she could stand up and storm away.
"I'm sorry, I – I shouldn't be drinking," he said, tugging on her wrist.
"Why are you so unkind sometimes?" she said, trying to twist her wrist out of his grip.
"I don't know," he said. "If I talk about these things to you… well it's just a form of self-torture." She was silent for a moment and he let go of her wrist. Much to his surprise she didn't continue to press him. In fact there wasn't a shred of anger in her like there'd been before. Telling him she was going to the library, she left him with his thoughts, and his bottle.
A couple of tiring shifts later, he thought he'd try to make it up to her. He wasn't very good at reading women let alone humans. He would make sure to avoid the bottle because he'd resumed the habit as of a few days ago and did not want it to continue. He thought once the sex was over he'd say goodbye to her; make sure he'd never see her again. But it didn't work that way, and despite his prejudices he'd been drawn to her for a long time now. He suggested dinner at a local restaurant he knew did both dextro and amino-based foods, and she seemed to appreciate the idea.
"Getting tired of cooking for me already?" she said after getting changed out of her work clothes. It was a rare evening that they had off together. He gazed at her as she came out of the bedroom upstairs, having changed out of her plaid shirt and scruffy trousers. This time she wore high-waisted trousers and a long sleeved top that displayed the tops of her shoulders, her neck and collarbones. She had her curly hair bundled up on top of her head. She knew what she was doing to him and for once he was slightly tongue-tied.
"Speechless?" she said, her eyes drifting over him, equally full of longing. There it was again, that blossoming of colour down her neck.
"Maybe a little," he replied, stroking her soft neck with the back of one talon.
"You think this is sexy? I don't think this compares with the current fashion," she joked. "Especially the asari fashion…" He responded only with pulling her forward and pressed his mouth hard against her neck.
"That answer your question?" he replied, pulling what he hoped she'd see as a smirk. It was a busy evening and although she suggested walking down there, he quickly rejected the idea and ran them in his skycar instead. He'd hoped she wouldn't notice the fact he'd suggested this as a result of not wanting to be seen walking arm-in-arm or hand-in-hand with a human. The galaxy and him, wasn't quite ready for that. There were a few stares and whispers when they entered the restaurant, which was busy, but thankfully not rammed. He chose a seat towards the back of the restaurant, in case anyone he knew came in. He hated bumping into people he knew and unfortunately he knew a lot of people. The restaurant was dimly lit with battery-powered simulated 'candles.' A lot of human things the asari had caught on to and used them as if they were kitsch fashion items. Contemptible, his mind thought as he eyed the candles, the neon bar sign and the soft music playing in the background. As they were seated and given menus by an asari waitress, Marik had noticed Laurel had been silently sniggering. His eyes flicked up to her, partly irritated. He hated sniggering.
"What's so funny?" he asked. It looked like it was difficult to contain her laughter.
"Just…you know that neon sign? Well…" she burst into a peal of giggles, like a child. He was aware of people enough already, without her adding to their interest.
"What?" he hissed, leaning forward.
"Amongst all the other neon signs, the one by the bar is hilarious. It says in English, 'Fuckin' bar'," she barely got out. He didn't understand. He assumed the first was some sort of profanity but how did that make it amusing? If anything it was totally inappropriate.
"Guess they didn't realise the obvious," she laughed again. His mandibles clamped together, and she quietened down when she noticed he wasn't amused. The waitress then came over to take their order.
"How are you both doing this evening?" she asked them, bringing out her holopad. They both mumbled a 'good, thank you'. Laurel ordered a cocktail, him a non-alcoholic beverage.
"Are you two on a date this evening? Or just two good friends?" asked the asari, her eyes twinkling. "I haven't seen many humans and turians mingle-"
"Yes that will be all, thank you," said Marik loud enough so that he drowned out the rest of her words. Put out, the waitress's face fell and she promptly turned away. Laurel opposite raised her eyebrow.
"What's got your plates in a knot?" she said, taking an olive from a pot near her hand.
"This restaurant is more pretentious than I thought it was," he grumbled trying not to be amused by her comment.
"I like it," she replied thoughtfully, rolling her eyes round the room. "The little human touches are familiar…. and more comforting than I thought." He barely grunted in reply. He knew he was being an arse, but it was more comfortable to be with the status quo rather than against it. Perhaps going out was a step too far for him.
"Use of human items as kitsch fashion is distasteful," he eventually said. He pointed at the lava lamp in the corner. "That thing is…."
"Remnant of the sixties?" she finished for him, although he wasn't sure what she meant. He tried to focus on something else other than his anxiety and rising annoyance, like her neck, her clavicles, her waist…She looked relaxed, popping those olives into her mouth but he wondered if she was doing this to stem her own anxiety.
"I wonder why you find it 'distasteful' though?" she asked. "Is it because you feel humans are treading on your turian toes?"
"Well, no," he replied, awkwardly. She shook her head, smiling at him.
"You're just too easy to read, Marik. You shouldn't have asked me to dinner if you were going to get so self-conscious about being seen with me."
"I'm-I'm not," he protested. Like a teenager, his mind thought. She quirked an eyebrow at him, which was a human way of expressing doubt or what he saw as defiance. There was silence when the waitress came back with their drinks. The waitress didn't pass them a single word. He watched her sipping her drink for a while, until a different waiter approached them asking if they were ready.
"If you want to pursue this relationship then maybe you ought to drop the attitude, just for once," she said, smiling sweetly at him before taking a long gulp of her drink.
"What attitude?" he said stupidly. Spirits, you are embarrassing.
"The 'it's so mortifying to be dating a human,'" she finished for him. He felt his buttons beginning to be pressed – it didn't take much, unfortunately.
"We are not dating," he hissed, glancing over at the other guests, hoping they hadn't heard her infuriatingly loud voice.
"Oh of course," she nodded, smirking. "Sex is off the cards then." He felt a boyish pang of disappointment.
"What?" she said. "I don't have sex with random people I'm not dating."
"Oh that is very amusingly inconsistent of you," he snapped. "Considering your history, I'd say it was the opposite." She flushed, deciding to look at the bottom of her glass, swirling the drink. She kept her head down for the next few minutes, pretending to decide what she wanted. His appetite had dried up, and he couldn't help but flick his eyes up to her every moment or so. Something inside him was tearing. Yet his insufferable pride won out, and he didn't say anything until a different waitress came over. She ordered something bland sounding, so he did the same – a soup. While he loved soup, it was a mild pick for a fancy restaurant.
"So Marik, if we're not dating," she piped up, setting a cold gaze on him. "What the fuck is this?"
"Spirits knows," he replied. Laurel set her jaw straight, sitting tight and tense in her chair. Her eyes appeared glassy. The food arrived and they ate it in utterly miserable silence. He paid for the meal and they left as soon as they could. He could feel the other guests' stares on his back. Marik was somewhat relieved that she accompanied him back to his apartment, but he was simultaneously dreading what was to come next. He'd royally messed this one up, big time. By the time they'd entered his apartment, she stormed through towards the bedroom, where he knew were all her things. It seemed to occur to him prematurely that she would leave, perhaps forever.
"Laurel," he began. "Listen-" She whipped round, razor sharp with eyes blazing.
"No you listen! Just when I start to feel like I've feelings for you, you push me away. I don't understand. Why do you hate me so much?" Her face hardened, with brief loathing.
"I don't hate you," he replied stiffly.
"But you still hate humans, that's why this evening was a complete fucking nightmare." He stepped forward, straightening up.
"Humans have a lot to learn," he defended, although he realised this was not the right answer. "You are overconfident and impulsive. The galaxy existed long before you decided to colonise it." She briefly looked like she wanted to hit him.
"Christ, you haven't changed one bit, Marik. I do wonder what you find attractive in me?"
"Don't push me, Laurel," he warned, although he wasn't sure he meant it.
"You always say that," she said with gritted teeth. "Don't push me, refrain from provoking me and so on! Why? Afraid you'll do something you regret?"
"Because you know what you're doing," he said. "You're riling yourself up."
"You're riling me up!" she snapped pushing him back hard. "Your bigotry is fucking ridiculous." Something flickered in his chest.
"Ridiculous?!" he shouted. He took a step forward, close enough that they touched.
"If you were a turian," he began, his voice dangerously low. "I'd spar with you. I'd drag you to the mat praying I'd go easy on you 'cause I knew I wouldn't. It would finish on the bed, with me fucking you hard until you couldn't take it anymore. How could a human like you possibly handle it?" His breath caught in his throat, as did hers. His sub-vocals began to hum with arousal, and he bent down to press his mouth against her ear. What are you doing, his mind chided him. Where is your resolve?
"You know what you stuck-up bastard, have your spar then," she snapped, before winding her arm round his neck in a chokehold. Stunned by this action, he choked slightly as she tightened her arm round his neck. Reacting quickly he grabbed her by the leg and lifted her up into the air before smacking her back down onto the hard floor. She was briefly winded as she lay there staring up at his bent over form, catching his breath. He felt pretty smug.
"Don't kid yourself, Laurel…." he said, brimming with derision. Suddenly slamming her leg down onto the back of his neck, she knocked him to the floor. She wrestled him face-first into the cold floor, with him trying to push her off. Evidently she could still hear his purring beneath her as tried to flatten him to the floor.
"Shut-up," she hissed as she did so. He pushed her off with ease, grunting, before they rolled over each other across the floor. Her feet were hooked on to the back of his spurs, threatening to push them back. He pulled her upwards, his talons piercing the skin of her upper arms.
With as much strength she could muster, she rocked them backwards so she ended up back on top, her thighs on either side of his neck. She had to steady herself by leaning over him with her hands flat on the floor. It was clearly uncomfortable for him, as he had to turn his head to avoid damaging his cowl. He felt surprised at her strength.
"Careful, don't want anything to end up broken," she scoffed at him.
"Still think you have the upper hand?" he said, smirking. His talons already on her thighs snaked upwards. Distracted by this, she felt his legs, which were behind her come up on her shoulders to press her down to the floor. Grabbing his large foot, she twisted hard, making him reel over on his side. Standing back up, her blood pumping she brought her arm tight round his neck again, pulling him upwards. She heard his gurgled choke as she squeezed her arm harder. He pushed himself upwards dragging her with him, before bending backwards. She was smaller, lighter and he dragged her body back over his shoulder slap-bang down onto the floor. Her body smacked harshly against the floor's plastic surface. Sweat was beaded like pearls on her forehead as she stared at the ceiling breathless. His face came into view as he bent over her.
"I was easy on you there, Laurel. Next time I won't be." He straightened up, still feeling playful.
"I'm out of practice," she smiled, sitting up, smarting still.
He pulled an expression that looked akin to a smile, but she couldn't tell. He held his bare hand out, which she took. Purposely, he drew her up hard so she collided with him when standing. His other hand came to rest firmly on her lower back. She craned her neck to meet his strong, yellowy eyes. His talons snaked up towards the edges of her top, rolling the material down slowly. She kept her eyes on him as he did so, drinking him in so temptingly with those large, blue eyes. Time seemed to blend into one moment from then on. This time they didn't bother making it up to his room, settling in front of the sofa. It was difficult not to rip her nice clothes with his cumbersome talons. Deciding it was easier, they both shred off their last garments. Her sweat comingled with his. She was touching him more now, running her delicate little fingers in places that delighted him more so than she presumed. He moved them onto his sofa, making sure she was on top. He thumbed her hard nipples, which she really seemed to like, moaning and drawing her head backwards with eyes closed.
He caressed her gently, as careful as he could without gloves. Becoming more confident, she planted kisses with her lips over his skin, which seemed to thrum and ripple with each one. He burrowed his talons into her curly hair, gripping hard whenever she kissed a sweet spot. He heard her breath hitch each time he tightened his fingers. He drew her head up to meet his, nipping her neck and pressing his mouth over her thrumming pulse. Her body lay adjacent to his, and he felt his ever-increasing erection press deliciously into her soft, pliable skin. He tried kissing with her again, teasing and tempting her mouth with his own. She surprised him with a nip to his lower mandible. Caught off guard, he barely had time to catch himself. He suddenly felt all five digits of hers fondle the throbbing centre of his groin. He nearly bucked up into her, felt like throwing her to the floor and engaging in wild, rough sex. He had to hold himself back.
"Laurel…." He barely spoke. Don't fuck this one up, said that little negative voice in his head.
"Still think you have the upper hand?" she smirked.
Pulling back, she kept her hand on his cock as she positioned herself above him. He was almost ready to shatter with brazen yearning. With more force than he expected, she pushed herself down onto him. The unbearable ache he felt intensified. He watched enraptured as she fucked him, bouncing on top of him, her skin flushing, her breasts with the large pink areolas springing. He stroked the sides of her hips, fingering the pleasant rolls in her skin. Her eyes soon closed in concentration, her own hands palming her breasts, spreading and rolling them like they were dough. He couldn't help it. He came, so intensely that he bucked her off him, sending her sprawling onto the floor below. His vision fizzled as he felt his climax lessen, his breath heaving with exertion. His cum was all over his legs and on the sofa, hot and sticky. By the time he regained his senses she was already back on the sofa, smiling.
"I'm so sorry, Laurel," he said, feeling hugely embarrassed.
"Apologise later, finish me off now," she smirked. Oh, he was only too happy to oblige. As he lay back down with her, he worked on kissing her body again, but she stopped him. Something fearful caught in his throat.
"It's ok," she reassured him. She took his hand, placing it over her sex, making him use a single digit to massage the already-enlarged clitoris. It didn't take her long to moan underneath him, pressing her hips up to meet his. He felt the trembling in her body, the beginning of her orgasm. He kept the massaging up a little longer, before he heard her cry out, and drew his finger away. He took her wrists and pushed them up above her head, lowering his mouth to her ear, feeling her writhe and struggle underneath. This intensified her orgasm and she let out a deep, passionate cry.
It was the most vocal he'd heard her. He felt her pulse beat rapidly. It took her a while to catch her breath and come down from so high a high.
"Wow," she breathed, lying down still. He sat up on an elbow, watching her. How did he end up with a human? A human whom he tortured once, during a brief, bloody war. A human, whom despite everything, he was beginning to have feelings for. A human whom he enjoyed having sex with, perhaps going so far to say she'd been the best lay he'd had. But it felt more than a simple sexual relationship. He was too afraid to admit it. It was on the edge of his tongue, a word that frightened him deeply to the core. She was stroking his face, his mandible when he came back round from his thoughts.
"Marik?" she asked him, her voice soft. "Please…" How he wanted to expel her from his life, tell her never to see him again. He didn't deserve her. He disliked humans, yet why was she so enticing? So interesting and beautiful to him?
"Don't think," he heard her whisper to him, her fingers crawling up to cup his face. Despite the wetness on their skin, she drew them together slipping into the mould his body made. Don't think. Just be.