There is a rather explicit sex scene in this chapter, as previously there are some asterisks provided for those who wish to skip it. Sorry for the late update, much editing went into this up until the very last minute. There is accompanying art as well, (Not explicit, but suggestive) located here: crescentbunny/art/In-the-Battery-860600933 in celebration of how close we are to done! Thanks for sticking with me everyone! I'm writing the sequel through ME3 for our heroes as we speak. :)
Garrus stood away from the pack, mindful of the group of krogan to his left, but finding it hard to give much more of a damn than that. As he scanned the bodies around the bonfire, his gaze was wandering laughably easily to her. He could find her with absolutely no trouble in any crowd, even when she wasn't one of the only humans present. He'd been able to find her even when her fringe hadn't been so long and wild, bobbing along behind her in shimmering waves. He could pick out her voice over the roaring of the flames, the chants of the krogan, the beating of the drums. Even when he was well past drunk and into the territory of heaving horizon, she grounded him.
So he continued to stare.
Finally, a krogan with an inky black crest - who had been circling the ring of light around her all night - moved up to her. Maybe this was the breeding request? Garrus watched the idiot put his hands on Shepard's hips while her back was turned. His good mandible pulled back in a grin. She never disappointed. She must have been completely hammered on that ryncol though, she staggered a bit when she spun - before headbutting the bastard. The crack was sickening even over where he was, and the force she put behind it threw her backwards into Grunt's outstretched arms.
Garrus's leg twitched and took him a step forward before his beleaguered brain realized it, and his sub-vocals spun out of control. She turned to look up at Grunt and he saw her small white teeth catch the light. He pulled his leg back and glanced down to check how much was left of the bottled ale in his hand while trying to reign himself in. When he dragged his gaze back to Shepard, there was a flash of red at his side.
Wrex.
The old man swiveled a crimson eye up at the him, a grin spread across his wide face. "You've always had it bad for her."
"Amazing, you'd know something about me I don't, Wrex." Wow, that sounded unconvincing, even to himself.
The krogan barked a loud laugh. "I am over 500 years old, whelp. You might lie to yourself, but you can't to me." He tapped his nose with one large finger. "You've been screwed since about week four on the SR1."
Somehow Garrus felt offended at that. "I'm a turian kind of man, if you must know."
Wrex guffawed again and slapped him painfully on the back of his carapace. "You are a turian and Shepard kind of man. You don't have to be attracted to humans to be attracted to her." He folded his arms and turned back to watch her too. She had an arm wrapped around Zaeed's middle and he had one across her shoulders while they sang some bawdy song together.
"You sound like you are speaking from experience." Garrus pulled his chin down to study the old krogan's face.
Wrex smirked. "Maybe."
Garrus's thrumming changed pulse and lowered.
"Oh, don't get all territorial with me kid. The question now is, what are you going to do about it?" He reached out and shoved the wiry sniper.
"Not a damn thing," Garrus murmured.
"Now we're getting somewhere."
"If you know me so well Wrex, what about her?"
Wrex's eyes narrowed. "What about her? Can I tell how she feels about you? That's what you mean?"
Garrus nodded.
The krogan studied her again, then frowned. "Council is still out on that one. All I can smell anymore is her fear." He pointed a finger towards Grunt. "I bet he can't even tell, he probably just thinks that is how she smells. But that isn't how she used to be."
Garrus wasn't sure what to say, so he finished his ale and stared at the ground.
"Look, what I do know is being asked to do the impossible isn't easy. What she needs is someone who is a hell of a shot. Someone who cares about her well being and is grounded enough to fight off her demons. Someone who sees who her true enemies are." Wrex turned his gaze on Garrus. "So I think chances are good that could be you. If you grow a quad and step into the role." The old Krogan clapped him on the back a final time and walked back into the darkness.
Shepard raised her flask and shouted with the krogan, another loud toast to Grunt's victory at the Rite. She turned to watch her Krogan thump his chest and roar along. He knew the words already. The celebration was a blur of firelight, dancing, and ryncol. The Commander wiped the sweat out of her eyes and pulled down the back zipper of her under suit; where the armor pieces had disappeared to, she wasn't sure. That was a problem for future sober Shepard! She pulled herself free of the material down to her hips and tied the arms around her waist. The soldier raised her head to the sky and lifted her arms as the breeze off the fire licked across her wet skin, cooling her. Living in exactly this moment, completely safe, surrounded by her friend's clansmen and her crew mates was a heady feeling. She'd always felt more kinship with Wrex and the krogan than with her own people. Strength was respect, regardless of gender. They said what they thought, for better or for worse. Tuchanka had little in the way of bushes to beat around for sure. Her vision swam, and she silently thanked the liquor the krogan made. It was hard to get carefree drunk with anything on the Normandy, thanks to Cerberus and their 'upgrades'. But she shouldn't disparage them - that same super-liver had saved her from death by Minagen exposure.
She hadn't seen her turian in a while. Shepard glanced around, eyes squinted against the light of the bonfire. Her turian? Really? Suddenly the drumming changed to a much faster tempo and scaled bodies crammed in around her. Rhythmic cheering began - some sort of song. She looked up into Grunt's enormous grin. Somewhere nearby Zaeed was trying to chant along even though he didn't know the words. If this was about to turn into a krogan mosh pit though... she had a fleeting thought of worry.
A small, five fingered hand grabbed her waist from behind. Shepard spun to lock eyes with Jack - there was a huge grin plastered on the biotic's face.
"See, I told you you'd love this!" The soldier yelled over the din.
"Who wouldn't want to come to a huge party on Tuchanka?! This is great Shep!" She reached past the Commander and thumped Grunt on the arm. "Good job on joining a clan!"
Grunt laughed in return and lowered both his elbows towards them. Shepard looked confused, but Jack caught on and placed her boot into the crook so he could hoist her up. The N7 followed her lead and sat on his other massive shoulder. "You humans can not even see down there. Look." Shepard followed his finger. Past their bonfire, other fires twinkled in the night as far as she could see. "All of Tuchanka celebrates our victory over the maw, Battlemaster."
Shepard patted the armor of his hump. "I'm proud of you, Grunt. You did good, you always do. You deserve a strong clan." She bent down to speak closer to his ear. "Do right by him, Grunt," she motioned towards Wrex, where he stood speaking with a group of rapt listeners. He must have been telling an old war story. "I believe with every piece of my being, with no doubt, that he is the way forward for your people." Grunt nodded as she spoke. "Wrex is my friend, sure, but there was a time where we were pitted against one another, weapons drawn. And I couldn't do it. Not because we are friends, but because he was too wise, too level headed. He was too talented to waste. It was the best decision I've ever made, Grunt. For now, you will stay with me until the Collectors are dealt with. But someday, you'll be with him. Protect him with everything you have. He will fix the genophage. He will bring you all back to glory. Mark my words, you will live to see this planet revived, alive, and beautiful."
Grunt squeezed her calf gently where he had his large hand wrapped around it. "I believe you are right, Battlemaster. I will do as you ask."
Shepard reached to touch the top of his bare head. Someday he'd have a big crest there. For now the scales of his head were rough and still and not formed together, and she briefly wondered if she would live long enough to see it all grown in. Even Jack was smiling down at him.
"Okay Grunt, enough of this mushy shit, set me down, I'm drying out up here," Shepard spoke over the crowd. He guffawed and lowered his arm so she could slide down. Her feet hit the ground, and she stumbled a bit as the world spun. The ryncol was still doing its job. She pushed through the mass of moving bodies and emerged on the outside of the circle, taking deep breaths of the cooler air away from the bonfire.
The Commander made her way further from the light, searching the darkness for a familiar turian shape. Beyond the fire was a slope up into a bombed out building that had a great view of the festivities. Shepard walked slowly, enjoying the cool wind. He was there, of course, nestled in a dark corner sitting on the duracrete remains of a wall.
"Looks like you're having fun, big guy."
"Someone has to keep an eye on the Normandy's wayward, drunken, little murderers," he answered dryly.
She quirked a grin. "Alright, has Mordin gone back to the ship?"
"Hmph. No, surprisingly. He's over there still talking at that 'Krogan Scientist'," he gestured.
Shepard squinted across the encampment. "I'll be taking your word for it, I sure can't see that far." She moved up next to him and hopped to sit on the wall, but miscalculated the height spectacularly and slid back down. Garrus grabbed her before she made it completely and embarrassingly to her backside. He snorted.
"I'm no longer fielding any criticism for the day, you'll hafto keep that snarky comment to yourself. Help me up," she reached out her other hand.
Garrus sighed but grabbed it and kept her steady while she situated herself. "You know, it's a lot easier if the drunk short people stay close to the ground, where they belong."
"Hey, I said no snark. Besides, this is our ritual."
"What is? Me babysitting the first human Spectre?"
"Naturally. Wait, was that not why you signed up on the SR1? C-Sec has got to be top notch drunken babysitters. In fact, I can't think of anyone more qualified."
"I'm annoyed at how accurate that statement is. You are aware that every time this has happened I haven't exactly been sober either."
"Ooh, so he did decide to have some fun! Good for you! If I could share my ryncol with you, I would. It's absolutely horrible."
"If it's anything like how it smells, then I believe you. No tasting necessary."
Shepard nodded. "Where did you find alcohol? Did you ask Zaeed to bring some down?"
"Wrex scrounged up some of the worst dextro beer in existence from somewhere, so yes, I did ask Zaeed to bring some down." He held his bottle up in front of her. "My third one even."
"Good for you. Even Archangel needs a break now and then." She patted him on the thigh plate. In the distance, the singing was going strong.
"They grow up so fast, don't they?" Garrus was glancing down at her with a half smirk.
"Right? One day you release your overgrown child from a tank and the next they are killing thresher maws. But, I won't complain. I got to skip the whole drooling, barfing, pooping stage. Straight to murder." She put a palm on her stomach. "And no stretch marks!"
"I've got to say, human babies don't sound particularly endearing. How has your species thrived?" He knocked back some of his drink.
"That's a great question. It's probably because they are pretty cute. Look," she pulled up her omni-tool to do an extranet search.
He leaned into her shoulder to get a better glimpse. "Ah. Mmm. Okay, I'll give you that. If you can get past the extraordinary nakedness, they are cute. I really can't imagine the great Commander Shepard as a chubby, rosy cheeked little thing like that though." He hummed.
"Yeah, that makes two of us," she murmured and closed her tool. A few moments passed in silence. "Wait. WAIT. I've seen loads of asari and human kids on the Citadel… but I've never seen a turian kid smaller than about waist high...that's gotta be… what ten years oldish? What do you do with your babies?"
Garrus balked. "What do you mean, what do we do with them? How have you not seen them?"
She shrugged.
Garrus fiddled with his tool to bring up a picture. He held his arm out, and on the screen was a fluffy, white down covered little creature. She squinted and grabbed his arm to haul it closer. There were tiny, half formed mandibles, little brow plates, and big blue eyes staring out from under the fluff.
Shepard gasped so loudly Garrus flinched. "OH MY GOD! OHMYGOD! YOU'VE KNOWN THIS FOR YEARS! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME TURIANS WERE FLUFF BALLS WHEN THEY CAME OUT?! OH. I have seen them then! I thought carrying around a fluffy thing was like, I dunno, a fashion statement or something for turians! I've seen them put them in their cowl!" Her eyes rounded.
Her outburst caught him so off guard he threw his head back to laugh. "Wow Shepard, your xenobiology classes really failed you. If I'd known that was such pertinent information I'd have told you the minute we met."
She stuck out her bottom lip. "I didn't have any of those, I was a street kid, remember? I had to get a GED, and military academy was all about 'how to kill a big one of these' so we didn't go into this!" She dragged his arm and tool into her lap. "I need eight of these."
That cut his laugh short. "Wait, what?"
"Well, you know, assuming I don't eat it on the battlefield at some point, which, let's face it, is the more probable outcome. But if I ever retire I'm going to adopt about eight of these little guys."
Garrus shifted his weight and cleared his throat.
"Hold up, whoa WAIT!" She pointed at the picture. "This isn't you, is it?"
He snatched his arm back and flipped the tool closed, leaving them to the soft light of the bonfire. His cricket like humming kicked up again. That one meant annoyance.
"AWW! Don't be a spoilsport! Was that you?!" The delight in her face was obvious.
He sighed and turned his head away. "Yes, Solana messaged that to me a few weeks ago. It was the fastest picture to pull up. She's having a bit too much fun going through the family albums at home… I didn't think you'd be able to tell."
"Hmm… I always know my big guy when I see him," she whispered.
Garrus swiveled back to glance at her. Her words caused a tightness in his chest. "We molt all that down between the ages of 4 and 8. Turians are quite private and the molting is a bit… undignified. That's why you don't see them until they are older."
Images of ugly little parrot babies growing in feathers came to mind. She couldn't help the chuckle it raised. The information in the Broker's files floated to the top of her ryncol diluted consciousness right afterwards. "Hey Garrus?"
He sipped at his drink. "Hm?"
"The Shadow Broker had files on all of us. I dug through everything to get an idea what kind of clusterfuck of sensitive information he had - I wound up deleting all of it, for the record."
The look on her face was hard to decipher. "I'm not surprised," he said.
"I know about your Mother," she said softly. "Your sister is at home taking care of her, isn't she? That's why she has the time to go through albums."
Garrus kept his gaze locked on the flames in the distance, but set down the bottle he was holding.
"I don't expect you to talk about it. But, I'd be a shitty Commander if I didn't check in and make sure…" Her voice caught. "That a suicide mission is really where you want to be right now."
He stared blankly forward for a while before turning and dragging her towards him by her legs. "Shepard. I meant what I said in the cargo bay. How can I keep that promise if I run home?"
"You have a family, Garrus. You don't owe me anything." She spoke into his keel instead of his face.
He tilted her chin up with a gauntleted finger so she would look at him. Words clogged his throat, like they were expanding to choke him. "I started this with you, Shepard. I'm going to end it with you. I'm right where I want to be." He bent to gently rest his forehead on hers. She didn't properly understand the closeness the gesture implied to a turian, but that suited him just fine.
Small fingers on his neck wrested his attention.
"Thank you, Garrus. I haven't said that enough," she spoke it so quietly he could barely hear it.
They settled into silence again, the cheers and stomping of the krogan taking over. Out of the corner of his eye, the bit of her face that caught the light off the bonfire wasn't readable. Whatever it meant didn't seem good. Had he said something wrong?
Suddenly she moved, throwing a leg across him to straddle his lap. Shepard grabbed both of his hands and put them on her hips. "I'll be blunt. Should we continue our exploits from the cargo bay?"
He felt popped out if his head while searching her face. The soft smile he found there encouraged him to trace his palms along the swell of her hips and down, where he enthusiastically grabbed her ass with both palms, pulling her into him with surprising strength.
Garrus sucked in a sharp breath and that deep growling thrum began in his chest. That sound had haunted her dreams since their fight in the hanger. It shorted out all thought and sent an electric jolt straight to the apex of her thighs.
"Shepard," he growled out breathily. "You are drunk. Are you serious right now? In the middle of a bunch of krogan, in a bombed out building, in the center of a desert wasteland?"
"What can I say? I'm a romantic." She turned to see if anyone was paying them any mind. "I'm hearing protests from your mouth but you keep making that sound," she poked him in the yoke of his armor, "And even if you weren't - protests have little meaning when you are palming my ass, Vakarian."
"Oh? You're suddenly an expert on turian sub-vocals and body language?" He squeezed his hands around her, talons buried in the divot between cheeks and thighs.
"I've been listening to your weird cricket noises for months now. I won't stay ignorant forever." Shepard bent forward, pulling warm hands up the back of his neck and up under his fringe. Blunt little nails dug in and dragged down. Garrus pushed his face the inch between them into her chest and inhaled with a loud growl.
"See? I already know some tricks," she murmured into the hide nearest his ear canal, letting her lips bounce along his flesh. "I'm sad I didn't hear this particular sound sooner though, it's my favorite."
Three fingers fisted into her hair and pulled her head down. "Your favorite... hmmm?"
Garrus raised his face into the crux of her neck and shoulder. His warm breath played over her skin, causing a wave of goosebumps to wash over her.
"I seem to recall quite a few noises you can make… that I would love to hear again, Commander." He grabbed her hand. "Wait, you've planned this, have you been watching turian porn?"
Busted.
"I wanted this to be fun instead of tragically awkward," she huffed.
He laughed deeply, a sound almost completely from his chest before laving a long trail of hot, rough tongue from her clavicle to her ear. That was new. Shepard didn't realize he had been taking off his gauntlets until talon tips dragged along her scalp. She settled heavily into his touch, all muscle tension and coherent thought drained as he tugged gently at the strands, carding his talons through over and over. She leaned into his palms, eyes closed.
"You weren't the only one, Shepard." He dipped her backwards, cradling her head with one hand and using the other to carefully tear through her bra.
The ripping sound should have startled her, but the soldier barely tensed before his tongue was back, hot and long. He couldn't provide much in the way of suction with the shape of his mouth, but he could wrap it completely around a nipple and tug, just as the pad of his thumb found the other.
Garrus thought he caught his name in the whimper that escaped her. He pulled back to enjoy watching her skin pebble and tighten. Shepard tugged her under suit arms free from her hips, then curled her fingers inside the lip of his chest piece and pulled. Garrus always knew what she wanted, with no words necessary - that was going to be a handy trait to bring into this kind of work. He clutched her to his chest, stood, and strode the few steps to pin her into the dark corner of the building with his hips. He hesitantly let go to use both hands to unclasp the upper yolk and pauldrons of his armor, and Shepard stubbornly clung on with both thighto help him pull the pieces off.
He snorted. "You really are pyjacks."
Shepard laughed. "What, this is a perfectly viable position for a pyjack. That's a good thing." She enunciated her point by leaning back into the wall and lifting her pelvis into his as he tried to unbuckle his waist guard. His thrumming sped up, vibrating through her core as he dropped more discarded pieces of armor. She curved up again and placed her lips under his bandaged jaw, kissing downwards and then along his cowl. She came back up the side of his neck and darted a tongue tip underneath his mandible. She smiled against his hide as his sounds stuttered. "Garrus."
"Hmm?"
"Tell me if this is weird for you, okay?" Shepard touched her lips to his mouth plates tentatively, once, twice. On the third she nibbled the edges of his plates and mandible until he opened his mouth a bit. Bingo. She slid her tongue inside and explored his heavily ridged upper palate, carefully probed a few sharp teeth,then finally slid it along his.
That sparked him. Immediately he grabbed the back of her head and wrapped his long tongue around hers and pulled. The weirdness of that sensation and a need to breathe dragged her backwards.
They studied each other's faces for a few moments before Garrus threaded a talon tip through the silver hoop at her lip. "This has been distracting me for months."
Months?
He tugged it, forcing her lips apart, and snaked his tongue inside. He was an extraordinarily quick learner - as always - and left her breathless with his ministrations. Shepard wrapped both lips around his tongue tip and sucked, hard. For a few seconds his sub-vocals petered out as he tried to inhale in surprise and coughed. He arched his long neck, eyes glued to her lip ring. She could nearly see the cogs in his head turning, processing the new information of 'suction.'
Her smile was wicked as she leaned forwards and set her teeth on the spot under the bandage at his mandible and bit down.
"Shepard," he gasped.
His groin plates had spread long ago, but that little trick had nearly unsheathed him. He hooked a hand behind her knee and pressed his hips forward into her warmth. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply, trying to force every aspect of her scent into his brain and distract himself from biting back. She obviously had no idea the meaning that held to a turian.
Shepard locked her knees behind him and with desperation and after a few failed attempts, kicked her boots off.
Garrus resumed his attentions to her breasts, kneading with one hand and pulling the zipper of her suit further down with the other. Once he was inches from her sex, he pressed into the folds through the fabric. Slowly he uncurled the finger and dragged the pad along, marveling at the hot wetness even through the under suit. Her heaving breaths and a gasp of his name spurred him on.
He reached behind her and dragged the fabric over her bottom and down her thighs, finally releasing a leg from its confines. Her scent was heady. He paused for a moment to lick a trail along her collar again, dragging a thumb from the little hole in her abdomen down, down, and gently across her core. The sound she made pulled an answering noise from his chest he couldn't control. He circled a few times before experimentally sinking a thick digit into silky depths.
Turian's had protective plates - time intensive work was needed to coax them open. But humans were so exposed here. Garrus couldn't breathe, couldn't think - how easily she accepted him was completely foreign and absolutely vulgar to a turian. Panting into her neck, he was out of his sheath so fast it would have been alarming if he wasn't already thoroughly convinced he was a horrible turian.
Lost in her sweetness and musk, sliding a digit in and out slowly, it took forever for her mumbling and attempts to unclasp his under suit to register.
"Garrus, please. Please," Shepard whispered, shifting her pelvis to meet the motion of his hand but still fighting with the clasps.
He finally extricated his hands and shucked his suit down to the thigh armor he hadn't bothered to remove, releasing himself. He sighed in dual tones, causing her to smile. Shepard reached down between them to gingerly touch him. His sounds went haywire as she wrapped her fingers around his shaft where it rested along her inner thigh.
Thank god there was something here that was relatively familiar. Too bad it was so dark, and she didn't have much room to work - but at least she sort of got to see him. Thicker and a bit longer than a human, the entire shaft was heavily ridged, almost in a spiral pattern that ended in a shallow corkscrew-like kink before the tapered head. The sheath that normally covered him was gathered at the base. She felt her fingers gliding through thin gel as she traced the length. Self lubricating? Convenient.
Up and around the head she moved, and back down the underside where there was a heavy vein. He twitched impressively, the whole appendage curling slightly around her hand. That was… odd and exciting at the same time.
He dropped his forehead against hers, breathing huskily. Their shared wit and combat prowess made it hard to remember how alien he was until moments like this. As she reached the base again, she wrapped both hands around him and tugged. His hips pistoned forward, and Shepard pulled him closer with her calves, pinning his cock against her slick heat, eliciting a groan from them both.
"What are you thinking, Shepard?" His voice was quiet, only the bass sound of it registered to her hearing.
She had to drag speech through the cloud of lust and alcohol in her brain. Need had taken over every synapse. It took a bit.
"Mmmm, two things. One, the first human to see one of you definitely shit himself."
Garrus chuckled deeply through his keel.
"And two, I think you are beautiful." She whispered, fingers running over surprisingly warm, surprisingly smooth plates.
He captured her hand and brought it up to his mouth, snaking out his tongue to trace between them. "So you aren't having second thoughts," he trailed off, averting his gaze.
She huffed a laugh. "I don't know, are you having any second thoughts about a squishy pyjack?" Shepard weaved her other hand up under his fringe again to enjoy the growl he let loose.
He shifted forward, grinding them together. "Not at all," he said into the top of her head. He slid both hands down around the curve of her thighs, pushing them up next to her. "Your flexibility is… jaw dropping."
She laid a hand on one of his forearms. "Go slow at first, it… might not be pleasant for me for a few seconds." He nodded, curving his back to line them up. She draped her arms over his shoulders as he sank carefully into her depths. Pressed against his chest, every stutter of his vocals vibrated through her ribs and through his shaft as he parted her.
Shepard pulsed around him, dragging him in - and rational thought wasn't a thread he could hang on to. Slow. She said slowly. He felt like he couldn't catch his breath as she sucked him in. Nothing prepared him for this - humans were so supple, pliant, and warm. He pumped shallowly, experimentally, and he couldn't control his sub-vocals any longer. They dropped and wavered, vulgar and stuttering embarrassingly like an adolescent - not that she would realize that. Thank the Spirits.
He was only in a few inches before he moved, but the unique shape of his phallus was a whole new experience. She was warped to the precipice and thrown clean over before she even realized what was happening. Holy shit. Shepard crushed her eyes closed, and was completely blind sighted as the fastest orgasm of her life ripped through her. She dug her heels into the muscles of his ass and was left desperately twitching.
"Garrus," she breathed.
Electric aftershocks spasmed through her, and it was all she could do to drag in breaths. When she opened her eyes he had paused and was regarding her carefully, a question in his own blue orbs. She nodded to reassure him. What in the hell was this? Did other humans know that turians were basically living, breathing, vibrators?! No. There'd be a lot more couples and porn out there if it was common knowledge.
Shepard pulled his head down to plant a kiss just below his nose and clamped around his cock. He growled long and low, curled his back and plunged - retracted agonizingly slowly, and repeated. Shepard braced her shoulders against the duracrete, unable to move much trapped against him but tipped her head to present her neck as she panted through his strokes. He obliged immediately, and she felt him open his mouth around the meat of her shoulder, tongue probing. His rumblings were louder through his open maw and a vague thought of worry came and went in her head. Was biting a thing for turians? It hadn't been in the porn. Abruptly he moved his hand under her knee to push her leg back harder. She bit her lip against a groan caused by the new angle. He stretched her magnificently.
"Spirits," Garrus whispered into her skin.
The desperation in his voice sent out another wave of goose flesh. She held onto his neck, digging nails into the hide under his crest. Damn, he was rocketing her to the edge again. If this were a romp in basic it would be a bit embarrassing - but luckily this was Garrus.
Spirits, she really was flexible. He hoped he wasn't actually hurting her, but focusing on anything but his length disappearing over and over inside her was impossible. He watched as his girth spread her and returned, glistening from their fluids. In the darkness of their corner, there was only her. Shepard's quiet noises, the way she gasped his name, and their bodies slicking together explicitly. Watching the hypnotic undulation of her breasts as he pumped into her was intoxicating. Suddenly he understood the galaxy's obsession with them. All at once she fluttered around him, biting the heel of her hand and squeezing her eyes shut. Garrus buried himself as far as possible to enjoy every delicious squeeze and shudder around his cock - grazing teeth along her shoulder before tugging her hand from her mouth.
"Let me hear," he murmured, eyes boring into hers.
"Hoooly shit Garrus," she breathed.
Her last few spasms brought him to the brink, so he moved again, desperation pushing him on.
"Shepard," he gasped.
"It's okay," Shepard mumbled, dragging flat teeth across his neck.
His control tore in half as she did, talons dimpled skin and he surged forward as deep as possible, grinding into her wet heat to spill himself. He let her legs down as he shivered and jerked - groaning brokenly in both voices into her throat and rumbling words that didn't make it through her translator. She wrapped her legs around him as tightly as her jellied muscles would allow, and eventually his thrumming slowed as his breathing came under control. Shepard rested her cheek against his brow plates. They stayed that way for what seemed like an eternity, listening to one another breathe, happily boneless. Well, mostly.
"You haven't retracted," she squeezed around him for emphasis.
"Mmm… I won't be able to if you keep doing that." He retreated a few inches and slowly pushed back in, slicking noisily through their mixed fluids.
Shepard flinched, still reeling from every raw nerve ending in her body and a sharp stinging on her back.
"As impressive as your refractory period is, I've got a bit of a problem." She folded her arms into her chest and curled forward.
He craned to look. "Yep, scratched all to hell." Garrus sighed and patted her rear. "Let go."
She untangled herself and he bent to slide out. Shepard hissed at the movement and her traitorous legs threatened to give out as he set her back on her feet.
"Turn around." He pulled a medi-gel packet out of the thigh compartment of his armor.
She eyed the pack suspiciously. "What, you just keep levo based medi-gel on hand?"
He blew out a breath. "Of course. What have we been arguing about lately? Besides, I know you've got dextro in yours too - so I don't want to hear it. Now turn around."
Hmm. Him giving an order was a nice change of pace. She complied, bracing palms against the wall and cringing as things drained. A few thick plops missed her legs entirely. Too many minutes passed with nothing but cold air across her sweat-slicked skin. It had been too long with no snap of the medi-gel packet being broken and mixed. "Garrus? What are you doing?" She turned her head but could only make out the outline of his form in the darkness.
"Forgive me Shepard, appreciating and committing this view to memory." He broke the package and tapped its cold contents along the scrapes of her back and rubbed it in.
"It's amazing the similarities between all you men across species. Love to see your own handiwork." She swiveled once he finished.
He laughed - that same deep chest noise sending a chill down her spine. "Can you blame us?"
"Do you see my bra? I want to clean up." Shepard squinted into the darkness.
He laughed - that same deep chest noise sending a chill down her spine. "Can you blame us?" A broad palm pressed her right back into the wall. Suddenly his tongue was in her mouth, probing, dragging a breathless whimper. He curled the tip around her lip ring and pulled before moving down her neck, scraping sharp teeth and plate along her flesh. He raised his head, and without breaking eye contact, or letting his mouth leave her skin, he dropped to a knee. Across her breast and down, his tongue dipped into her belly button and she squirmed.
"Garrus," she exhaled. Round eyes asked him a question.
"You said you wanted to clean up." He reached her mound, and hot breath swirling along over sensitized skin buckled her knees. He grabbed her and pulled her forward to lap along each leg.
Little tendrils of panic wormed through the heady sight of her sniper on his knees before her.
"Wait wait!" She tugged on his fringe. "I might not be allergic to you thanks to Cerberus but that doesn't mean you aren't allergic to me!"
"Mmmm…." He gave a long lap across her center and focusing on his words became difficult. "I think I'm ingesting more me than you at the moment but," he threw a thumb over his shoulder. "Mordin is over there, if I go into shock or something - go get him." He leant forward again, dragging her to him by the backs of her thighs.
"Garrus! Seriously, how embarrassing of a conversation would that be? Excuse me Mordin, I know you warned me but I accidentally killed my gunnery officer with my vagina!" She tried to wriggle free of his grasp.
He paused with a loud guffaw. "No - he didn't! Please, he warned you against this?"
"He did. He said not to ingest, because of levo dextro bullshit. It was right after our fight in the mess, I told him he was crazy but," she motioned between them. "Obviously he is too smart for his own good - Garrus!"
He continued, undeterred as she spoke. A long, rough tongue tip probed deliciously along her center - weak legs and weak will immediately betrayed her, his ministrations killing whatever protests she had left in her throat.
He was thorough, lapping across the seams of her legs and down her inner thighs while kneading the backs. He would return, teasingly close, only to retreat again. Minutes of torture reduced Shepard to quietly cursing shambles, and just as she opened her mouth to threaten or beg - she wasn't sure which yet - the rough texture of his tongue dragged across her clit, drawing a cry out of her throat. He hummed with approval and dove in deeply, oscillating back and forth while silky muscles contracted around him.
His growling and thrumming was vibrating through her with every tongue thrust, and her sanity was crumbling. He curled his tongue up along her front and zeroed the tip right into her g-spot - like he knew. Sniper indeed. She dug her fingers under his fringe and willed her leg muscles to cooperate and keep her upright, even as she leaned against the wall for support. Another coarse lick tore broken cries of his name from her throat as she came. She shook, sucking in breaths, and clung to his shoulders like wet cloth. As he looked up into her face, Garrus remembered all the times she'd screamed his name on the battlefield, called it out as a question, or said it as he entered a room. It was like each time she'd spoken it, it had been slowly filling up the inside of his chest cavity, and the times she had murmured it tonight were causing it to overflow - uncomfortable and tight. Spirits, Wrex had been right. He really was absolutely screwed.
Shepard's knees buckled but Garrus wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his lap. For a few moments he ran talons gently up and down her back, enjoying her skin's reaction in their hushed little corner of Tuchanka.
"So, do you guy's ever… uh..." she eventually muttered.
He tilted his head down to hear her, and jolted violently when slender digits suddenly wound their way up his still straining erection between them.
"Touch yourselves? Or is it just a human thing?"
What had she just huskily uttered?
"What?" His brain was trying desperately to rip itself away from her hands to process. "Uh…"
"Is this weird? Can I?" She accented her words by coasting lower along his shaft and dipping a finger slightly into his sheath.
He leaned back on both arms to give her more room. "Not weird, please keep going-"
He nearly jumped out of his hide though as she squeezed him - he snatched both of her hands off of himself on instinct.
"Er, just… gentler," he rumbled. "Here," He guided her back along his phallus.
"Gently huh. Way easier than humans." Her lip corners twitched into a smirk.
"I'm concerned if-" his own gasp cut that thought short when Shepard shifted her hips forward and used her hands to trap him between soft palms and soft heat.
She moved slowly, methodically, tracing every inch with far too many fingers. Garrus pulled her forehead to his as she worked along his length, alternating between pumping and gliding him along her sex. This was mind blowingly better without worrying about talons and plates.
Every small motion caused him to jerk and growl as she moved, thigh muscles twitching along under her. She could do this indefinitely and be perfectly happy with just the needy dual toned sounds he made, but it wasn't too long before he sucked in a labored breath and spilled himself across her hands and stomach.
"Shepard," he murmured in low tones.
Minutes passed and Garrus turned them to lean against the wall and splay out his tired legs. Shepard curled into his chest, eyes closed. Yet again, with an expression he'd never seen. He rested his good cheek on top of her fringe.
"Hey Garrus?"
"Hmm?"
"Do turians cuddle after sex?"
He blinked lazily but didn't find the will to lift his head. "Mated pairs, sure. Everyone else, not really."
"Good, neither does the Butcher of Torfan."
"Oh, of course not. She's way too badass for that. Good thing we are just trying to find the energy to stand. Sheer laziness."
She huffed a laugh but groaned. "I was so bruised already from all these krogan, and now I'm covered in puncture wounds and scratch marks. When I wake up tomorrow I'm going to feel like I got hit by a turian-shaped freight train."
He made a soft chirping noise in his chest. "Ahh, sorry Shepard. Give me a few more minutes and I'll break out the medi-gel."
That was a new noise. The Commander stretched and repositioned herself. "That was not a complaint. More of an observation, so don't move." She leaned back into him and rested her head against his keel.
Garrus's warmth and the distant drumming and celebrating merged into a comfortable but dangerous tranquilizer. Even knowing that, Shepard found no will to extricate herself from his lap and stand. Luckily, where her will failed, Garrus's was still intact. He shifted around searching for another medi-gel pack, the movement roused her from a sleep she didn't realize she was in.
"Come on, Shepard. Doesn't a bed on the Normandy sound better than a pointy turian?" He patted her thighs.
"At this exact moment it sounds like a lot more effort than the pointy turian," she mumbled.
"It's that or stay here like this and let the first person to look for you find us. My bets are on that being Miranda." Garrus produced a medi-gel pack and leaned her forward to dab at the talon marks on her backside - Spirits. He'd have to shave them down for any future encounters. Or was that too optimistic?
"It's fine Garrus, stop making that noise. I'm not hurt." She flapped a hand at him.
He didn't realize he'd been doing it. He strangled the noise but continued applying the gel.
"You'll get scars," he sighed.
"Whatever. This body was too clean, anyway. I don't even have my Torfan scars anymore - or any of my tattoos."
Knowing she was okay with leaving marks from him on her skin seemed… wrong. It pulled at something inside him. She was small, sitting on his thighs, her vertebra visible as she leaned forward. She always seemed larger than life on the battlefield, so it was hard to remember she was just a human, under a meter tall, and just a singular person. He placed a palm on her back, sliding it upwards. Every bone and bump was obvious, his huge plated hand and tawny hide a stark contrast to her in every way.
Shepard chewed at her cheek as his hand moved. The gesture was too intimate, even more so than their recent activities - it drove her to stand and wobble to her discarded under suit, a mix of satiated muscles and the last vestiges of ryncol. As she shimmied back into it, she heard Garrus buckling his.
"Wait, where ith your armor thhepard?"
She spun to glance at him. "What?"
His expression was just as surprised as hers. "Oh, my tongue ith thelling."
He said it so calmly she had to reign in a burst of laughter.
"Dammit Garrus, I told you!" She groused as he clipped hard suit pieces together. "Now I've got to do the walk of shame and admit to Mordin he was right."
He stared at her.
"What?" All she could see was the reflection of his eyes in the darkness.
"Worf ith," he rumbled awkwardly, like he had a mouthful of peanut butter.
"Oh my god, hurry, you're getting worse."
