The collar of her fatigues didn't even come close to covering the turian shaped bite marks on her neck.
The seams of the suit that sat between her thighs irritated her sore skin.
She didn't have clean underwear.
But she felt so good. She felt so fucking good. She felt a little taller, a little less heavy; the day cycle of the citadel even seemed a little brighter, a little rosier.
The hotel room didn't have anything to dry her hair with other than a towel, so she wound the still wet strands into her standard high bun with the few pins she scavenged off of the floor beneath pieces of his armor.
Nihlus walked into the small bathroom and watched her finish putting her hair up. She didn't have any makeup, and she didn't have time to go back to the ship, the Normandy where all of her possessions had been stashed, so she would be attending her promotion ceremony in dirty socks, with no underwear, no makeup, and a jury-rigged bun with approximately three pins.
"Good morning." She smiled at him through the mirror and as she finished her pinning, he reached to her neck, mandibles held tight to his face. "That… is obviously turian." He said with a frown on his face.
"So what?" She shrugged. "I have to go to this promotion ceremony, and they have new dress blues for me there. They should cover it." She turned towards him and leaned against the counter. "If it needs to be covered."
He tilted his head a little at the challenge, but then shook his head.
"Before I'm even supposed to have met you? Even Spectres have a little accountability. Think about it, if I show up for a mission to evaluate a recruit I requested... and she is covered in turian bite marks?" She laughed.
"Fair point. I suppose it is pretty incriminating for something that shouldn't have happened."
She pushed past him into the room and sat on the disheveled bed to don her socks and boots.
"I wouldn't say that." He purred from the bathroom doorway. She looked up sharply.
"I was just looking to get laid." She said, hopefully by way of explanation. "I... usually... try not to sleep with team members, and I needed… you know, something before what I thought would be a boring as hell shakedown. And the sex was great," Really great, "So I got what I was looking for, and I'm not looking for anything else."
She tried very hard not to show on her face the memories that flashed into her mind. Your head against my chest as we lay breathless. She tried not to smile when she remembered how well she slept. She had tried to get up and leave, go back to the ship, get her own room, something, but then he had pulled her back down into the bed, tugged her back to his chest, and fallen asleep with his face buried in the back of her neck.
"I think this is what's called 'mixed signals', Shepard." He said quietly.
She stood, toed the latches shut on her boots, and walked over to kiss him.
"You think what you have to." She turned go, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.
"I'll be at your ceremony."
"Then I'll see you there. Have I met you before, though? Or is this supposed to be hush-hush?" She asked, probably a little too sharply, but he just leaned down to kiss her again, and one of his mandibles twitched a little higher than the other.
"Hush-hush. For now."
What an appeasing answer.
The collar of her fatigues didn't even come close to covering the turian shaped bite marks on her neck.
The seams of the suit that sat between her thighs irritated her sore skin.
She didn't have clean underwear.
But she felt so good. She felt so fucking good. She felt a little taller, a little less heavy; the day cycle of the citadel even seemed a little brighter, a little rosier.
The hotel room didn't have anything to dry her hair with other than a towel, so she wound the still wet strands into her standard high bun with the few pins she scavenged off of the floor beneath pieces of his armor.
Nihlus walked into the small bathroom and watched her finish putting her hair up. She didn't have any makeup, and she didn't have time to go back to the ship, the Normandy where all of her possessions had been stashed, so she would be attending her promotion ceremony in dirty socks, with no underwear, no makeup, and a jury-rigged bun with approximately three pins.
"Good morning." She smiled at him through the mirror and as she finished her pinning, he reached to her neck, mandibles held tight to his face. "That… is obviously turian." He said with a frown on his face.
"So what?" She shrugged. "I have to go to this promotion ceremony, and they have new dress blues for me there. They should cover it." She turned towards him and leaned against the counter. "If it needs to be covered."
He tilted his head a little at the challenge, but then shook his head.
"Before I'm even supposed to have met you? Even Spectres have a little accountability. Think about it, if I show up for a mission to evaluate a recruit I requested... and she is covered in turian bite marks?" She laughed.
"Fair point. I suppose it is pretty incriminating for something that shouldn't have happened."
She pushed past him into the room and sat on the disheveled bed to don her socks and boots.
"I wouldn't say that." He purred from the bathroom doorway. She looked up sharply.
"I was just looking to get laid." She said, hopefully by way of explanation. "I... usually... try not to sleep with team members, and I needed… you know, something before what I thought would be a boring as hell shakedown. And the sex was great," Really great, "So I got what I was looking for, and I'm not looking for anything else."
She tried very hard not to show on her face the memories that flashed into her mind. Your head against my chest as we lay breathless. She tried not to smile when she remembered how well she slept. She had tried to get up and leave, go back to the ship, get her own room, something, but then he had pulled her back down into the bed, tugged her back to his chest, and fallen asleep with his face buried in the back of her neck.
"I think this is what's called 'mixed signals', Shepard." He said quietly.
She stood, toed the latches shut on her boots, and walked over to kiss him.
"You think what you have to." She turned go, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.
"I'll be at your ceremony."
"Then I'll see you there. Have I met you before, though? Or is this supposed to be hush-hush?" She asked, probably a little too sharply, but he just leaned down to kiss her again, and one of his mandibles twitched a little higher than the other.
"Hush-hush. For now."
What an appeasing answer.