2. Thoughts and Nihlus' Memories, Months Ago

There were so many things that Garrus brought forth in him- lust, possessiveness, even a deep concern for the former cop's well-being. He hadn't felt that way about someone in years and didn't expect to ever again; however, somehow, their growing bond made the sex all the more fantastic.

Fucking was no longer solely a testament to his own sexual prowess and skill, a gospel of his ability to bring other turian men to little more than exhausted, jelly-legged monuments of just how fucking fantastic his cock- and his skills with it- were. After his first real affair ended with betrayal, in his despair, he had fancied himself some sort sexual spirit, refusing to see anyone he had had his dick inside as little more than a prop to his ego. Sometimes, he had imagined them telling their friends, lovers, even- no, especially spouses- that they had slept with a Spectre and he was the best they had ever had.

Until Garrus. Garrus- a C-Sec officer who had been involved in the neutralization of Saren. One night they had both been in a bar and Nihlus remembered being alone, empty, sick inside, the realization that no matter how many guys he bedded, he was never going to get the feeling back that he and his mate had had. He was self-destructive, even if the decay was subtle, even if it didn't affect his work…No. It was affecting his work. He was becoming colder, killing more often, often finding himself being unnecessarily cruel both on his missions and- perhaps most unsettlingly- to his conquests. Even if he was never physically abusive to the men he took to bed, the changes were there. He was becoming more like that person.

He reminisced, absentmindedly running a clawed finger along the rim of an empty shot glass; the latest in a long series. He had seen his old mentor become devoured by grief. Seen what the loss of his brother to the humans during the Relay 314 incident had transformed him into. Felt what it was to be close to someone so burned out with their hatred and lust for vengeance, to try and repair that which could not be fixed. Knew what it was to be a lover and experience the constantly growing fear that the person you love is becoming less and less himself with each passing day.

He had been young and foolish then, consumed by pride, admiration, and awe for his mentor. Their years had started off with tension, mostly due to his refusal to submit to or obey the older turian, at first; however, they had soon learnt to work together almost too smoothly- a deadly pair that only grew more devastating by the day. Confusingly, their skirmishes for power and later, their near-constant rate of success had always had left him excited, thrilled, throbbing and in need of release. Only when he had been granted the position of Spectre, however, did he understand. Only then did he realize exactly what he and his mentor, partner, and friend were to each other. They had become mates, then. Even what they had, though, had not been enough to repair the damage.

Then, Nihlus had felt what it was to be there when they turned on their so-called loved ones.

He didn't want to turn into Saren, but that's exactly what was happening to him.

The realization had crystallized like ice in his bones that night, and rather than try to distract himself with some pretty, young piece of ass fresh from the colonies as he had most nights, he fell back to that elixir whose reputation for ousting old flames and glazing over unhealed wounds spanned all species and all cultures. That night, he had been hell-bent on returning to his apartment alone, preferably after drinking himself into a stupor.

But, here he was. Garrus, sitting at the bar, looking bored and perhaps a touch melancholy. Garrus was familiar, a friend, a drinking buddy. They didn't usually talk about the "old days." Nihlus never talked about exactly how well he had known Saren. Garrus never asked although he had to have known that there was more than was ever said, and there was some unspoken understanding between them. Nihlus had invited him back to his apartment. Somehow, it had felt different. At the time, he hadn't been sure whether he was just fooling himself and falling back on old habits or whether it really was different. Had they just been two lonely guys, friends, looking for and finding solace with each other? Or was he going to start fucking friends now before driving them off?

It had taken time, but he knew now what it really had been. How he felt about Garrus, what he wanted. Not that it didn't take work, not that there weren't nights when he said stupid stuff or shut the ex-cop out, only to have him storm out of his apartment or off his ship pissed off and refusing to answer messages for a day. It happened, but these things took time.