Enjoy Your Stay

Charles got called into work a couple hours early; Irene told him Okal felt sick and needed to go home. Since he'd already clocked twelve hours of overtime during the current pay period, she didn't want him getting anymore than necessary, so she told him to adjust the day's schedule accordingly and leave early, too. He'd grumbled the entire time as he showered and dressed before scarfing down an asari pastry—something he found in the cabinet but didn't entirely remember buying. He'd taken Eezo for a quick walk around the block, it was the best he could do in such a hurry, and then he made sure she had food and water before pushing up on his toes to kiss Ares goodbye.

Okal looked miserable when he got there, and she didn't waste any time clocking out and heading home. It left Charles there by himself, bored out of his mind, for an hour until Mahlia showed up. Whatever issues the asari had with him taking over Ares as a customer the day before seemed put aside as she smiled at him, passing through the store to clock in.

When she came back out, she took up station next to her console and turned to look at him, leaning her hip against the counter. "I thought Okal was working this morning?"

"Got called in to replace her," he said, turning to mirror her posture, "she went home sick."

"Oh. I hope she's okay." Mahlia watched him for a minute before letting out an exasperated scoff and waving her hand. "You stole a customer from me yesterday." She crossed her arms and huffed. "I can't believe you're not even going to apologize! I looked at the logs, Charles. That sale should've been mine."

Okay … maybe not.

He sighed and reached up, scratching the side of his head. "Yeah … sorry about that." Dropping his hand, he slipped it into his pocket, the cool metal of his razor right there, offering him a comforting touch. "I kind of know the guy."

"It didn't sound like you knew him" she said, raising a brow.

"I was trying to stay professional." He brought both shoulders up in a shrug. "I'm supposed to be helping Cammus learn how to deal with customers."

Mahlia pressed her lips together, staring at him for a few seconds before she sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "Fine. Goddess, what was with the way he looked at me?"

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. "Uhhhh, I think that might've been because of the way you looked at me."

"Oh." Furrowing her brow, she scraped her teeth over her lip. "Well, sorry."

"Yeah, me too," he said, giving her a smile.

She returned it and sighed again. "I called Lindsey … we're going to meet for lunch today."

"Yeah?" he asked, flashing his teeth at her in a grin and crossing his arms.

Turning back to her console, cheeks a little flushed, she scraped her teeth over her lip. "Yes, but it's just lunch," she said, glancing at him, "it doesn't mean anything."

He snorted and pushed away from the counter. "I'm going to go smoke, we've been dead so far since I got here. Call me if you need me." He stopped next to the break room door to glance back at her. "Hey, Mahlia?" He waited for her to turn around and look at him, and then he smiled. "It's really cute when you blush."

She scoffed, rolling her eyes but smiled. "Be quiet, go take your break."

Irene stationed Cammus in the back, restocking the last of the rearranged shelves, so Charles didn't get the chance to say much to him since he'd arrived. When his lunch hour rolled around, Charles went to the storage room, stepping in far enough for the door to close behind him and leaned against the table. He didn't see the man anywhere, but the storage room was pretty big.

"Cammus?" he called out, letting his voice carry.

A moment later the turian stepped into view from behind a shelf halfway to the back. He fluttered his mandibles, mouth plates shifting into a smile. "Do you need help up front?"

"Nah," Charles said, shaking his head. "I'm on my way to lunch. Wanted to see if you'd like to join me?"

Cammus nodded and started walking to Charles. "Sure. Do you have a place in mind?"

Grinning, Charles shrugged. "Did you like the place you took me to the other day?"

"I thought they were pretty good," Cammus said with a nod and flutter of his mandibles.

"Works for me." Charles turned when the turian reached him, opening the door again. "My treat this time."

Cammus chuckled, following him over to the employee kiosk. "You two paid last night."

"Mmm." Charles tilted his head to the side and activated his account. "He paid."

"You're bonded, or well, whatever the two of you actually consider it." Cammus waved a hand. "So, what's the difference?"

Charles shrugged and clocked out. "He has his money, I have mine."

Cammus hummed, stepping over to the kiosk when Charles got out of the way. "And you don't want to be a 'kept man?'"

Laughing, Charles tucked his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall. "I just don't want him breaking my shit as an excuse to upgrade it."

"You really think he did it on purpose?" Cammus asked with a chuckle.

Charles blew a raspberry. "Hell, yes."

Charles barely got the door closed behind him before Ares rushed in from the balcony, charcoal black plates with vivid, red colony markings covering his face. He only had a second to process the fact Ares wore a suit before the turian disappeared around the corner. He walked down the hall to look around the edge of the wall, blinking at Ares.

"Put these on." Ares grabbed a wardrobe bag from the breakfast bar and shoved it against Charles' chest. "Hurry up."

Dumbfounded, Charles stood there a moment, staring at him, taking in the man's clothes while he processed what he'd just been told to do. He looked down at the bag then back at Ares. "No shower first?" he asked, already kicking off his shoes and opening the bag, finding a nice suit inside, the color pretty closely matching Ares' prosthetic plates and the paint he'd used to cover the silver hue of his natural plates.

"How smelly can you get working a counter?" Ares lifted a brow plate before his nose shifted a few times. "You don't even smell, so don't waste time."

Charles gave him a mock salute, heading to the bedroom. "You're the boss. Mind telling me what exactly your plan is here?"

Ares followed him, clearly fidgety. "I rented an extended stay hotel room on the Presidium. We can watch the ceremony from there."

Tossing the bag on the bed, Charles started stripping off his clothes. Eezo ran into the room, pawing at his legs, and he reached down, rubbing his hand over her head. "Sorry, girl," he muttered. "You'll have to stay here." He'd have a mess to clean up later, but he'd gotten her some of those little absorbent pads for her to not piss and shit on them but everywhere else instead. He glanced up at Ares, finding the turian nervously pacing, as he started to get dressed. "When's it start?"

"Two hours." Ares didn't look up from the floor, his mandibles flicking in agitation. "We need to get to the hotel."

Charles thought it sounded like more than enough time, but he still got dressed as fast as he could without ripping a hole in the damn suit. Why the hell did he have to wear a suit? "Did you go through my clothes to find the right size?"

"Of course I did." Ares sounded affronted. "I wasn't wasting credits on a suit that wouldn't fit."

Closing the buttons on his shirt, Charles grinned and said, "I'm so a kept man. I don't know if I have shoes nice enough to not stand out with this."

Ares hummed and turned to Charles, moving closer to look him over. His mandibles flicked a few times before he pulled them to his jaw with a click as he scrutinized Charles. "There's a box of shoes in the living room. You can wear those." He ran his talons through Charles' hair—though God only knew what he thought he was trying to do.

Chuckling, Charles purred a little at the touch despite knowing it wasn't really an affectionate gesture. "When did you become a human stylist?"

He pulled away when Ares seemed done fucking up his hair and grabbed a pair of dress socks from his drawer. He figured he'd probably end up with blisters on his feet before the night was through from wearing new shoes he didn't even get to try on first, and of course, Ares would have something to say about it, something about humans being weak. He made his way to the living room to find a box of shoes sitting on the breakfast bar and carried them over to the couch.

"We need to look like we actually belong on the Presidium, even if it's just to get to the hotel." Ares moved to the breakfast bar, drumming his talons on the surface as he watched Charles put on and tie his shoes. "We can't stand out. It's just engrained."

Charles glanced up at him again and then back to his feet, hiding his amused smirk. He stood and made his way to the bathroom, despite Ares' annoyed huff. "Ew, no," he muttered looking at his hair in the mirror before grabbing his comb to fix it. When he came back out, he held his arms out to the side, during a slow turn, smirk on his face. "Do I pass?"

"Good enough for me." Waving for him to get going, Ares headed for the door and paused outside, waiting for him to catch up. "'Course, I have no idea what humans are supposed to look like when they 'clean up.'"

"That was almost sweet," Charles said as he made his way out to the hall and glanced back at Ares. "You look good."

Ares' mandibles fluttered a few times as he rumbled and locked the door, leaving Charles with the very odd impression he'd just embarrassed Ares. Standing there in silence for a moment before turning, Ares started walking, keeping his gaze forward. Charles smirked filing the reaction away for later consideration; he told Ares he was hot all the time, but thinking about it, he realized it always revolved around sex. Maybe he should start complimenting Ares outside of the bedroom more often. Falling into step next to him, Charles followed him to the elevator.

When they got outside, Ares made his way straight for one of the taxi stands and activated the console. Charles held back a bit, glancing around, trying not to fidget and tug at his suit too much. He felt so totally out of his element. But he looked damn good. Even if Ares couldn't manage to spit the words out. A moment later, Ares stepped back and waited, neither of them really saying anything until a skycar arrived, lowering down to the stand. Charles raised an eyebrow, it wasn't just a skycar, but a fucking Esquiran, which meant Ares spent a lot of extra credits to arrive in style.

Somehow, Ares managed to look even more cramped in the turian designed, sleek, high-class skycar than he did in one of the more standard X3M's the Citadel used. He didn't seem to let it bother him, though, too focused on driving to wherever the hell they were going. Shit, he even appeared completely unaware of the continuous drumming of the talons of his free hand against the vehicle's console.

After a few seconds, Charles reached over and set a hand on Ares' thigh. "Relax, big guy. You look like you're about to explode."

"I decided to have the dagger and chocolates delivered to the ceremony. Anything perishable." Ares said, mandibles flicking sharply against his jaw.

Charles blinked and nodded, the response seeming left-field. Sweeping his gaze over Ares, he tried to figure out just how volatile the man was at the moment, wondering if he'd make it to their hotel room without ripping someone's head off—literally. "Sounds like a good choice. I'm sure she'll be really happy to get them." His stomach rumbled a little, and he suppressed a sigh, a part of him wishing he'd at least had time to relax a little after work and eat dinner.

"You can order room service." Ares shifted from tapping the console to clenching his hand into a fist before relaxing it again, over and over. "They won't question it."

Damn turians and their excellent hearing.

Charles chuckled. "Yeah, maybe. Don't worry about me, I'm alright. Question is, how are you handling all of this?"

"My sister, who I haven't been able to see in years, who thinks I'm dead, who thinks I'm a traitor, is getting bonded in an elaborate, human-styled wedding ceremony. My entire family will be there, without me, and I won't be close enough to even hear what's happening, let alone join them." Ares made a clicking, buzzing sound before finally looking at Charles. "I'm fine."

Charles blew a raspberry, ignoring the sarcasm as he turned his gaze out the window for a second. "You are not fine. Pretty sure you're going to murder the first hotel clerk who tells you to 'enjoy your stay.'" He glanced at Ares again. "And maybe even me before this is over. So, you might as well talk about it some. Yell if you need to, whatever. Vent some of that shit out before we get there."

"I can't." Ares hummed, the sound carrying an odd pitch. "Not yet. If I do, I really will murder someone. I just need to get to the room, drink as many bottles of fancy alcohol I can, and watch the ceremony." He flicked his mandible and glanced Charles' way, adding, "But I'll take you up on it there."

Charles tried really hard to not let the smart ass slip out. He had to bite the inside of his lip for a second to keep from saying, 'What yelling or murdering me? Because if that's the route we're going, I have to say I'm not okay with this.' Releasing his lip, he instead said, "Good, maybe it'll help. Hopefully no one calls C-Sec."

Ares took a deep breath and waved out the window at a looming building. "That's where we'll stay." He pointed off to the right. "That's the ceremony."

Charles turned his head to look out at the small park where a crowd of people already gathered. They weren't close enough for Charles to make much out, but he saw the place had been decorated, bright colors adorned the trees, someone set chairs out, and an archway stood at the far end. He took a slow, deep breath, hoping the whole thing would go smoothly for Ares and make something better for the turian instead of worse. He nodded his head, not really having anything to say at the moment. A little tension crept into his shoulders, and he tried to prepare himself for settling in for the long haul with Ares in a foul mood, probably snapping at him and barking orders as they went.

Ares set the skycar down slowly. Once it's stopped, he turned the Esquiran off and laid his hands on the deactivated dash, lowering his head and closing his eyes. Rumbling softly, he took long, deep breaths. Charles tightened his fingers around Ares' thigh just a fraction. Otherwise he stayed still and quiet, trying to let Ares do what he needed to in order to prepare himself.

After one, long exhale, Ares lifted his head, face expressionless as he looked at Charles and nodded. "Let's go. I'm good."

Charles squeezed Ares' leg and offered him a smile, returning the nod. "Alright." He pulled his hand away and opened the skycar door, stepping out and away from the vehicle a little to turn and wait for Ares.

As soon as Ares got out and moved around the car to stand beside Charles, a hotel attendant approached, suit pristine and smile wide. "Hello, gentlemen," the man said. "May I get your bags?"

Ares gave him a rumble of greeting and held up a hand, voice smooth as he said, "No need. I already had our things brought in before our arrival."

The attendant nodded, turning a little to hold out a hand to gesture in toward the hotel. With the man's gaze averted, Charles pursed his lips a little and allowed himself the chance to let his gaze roam, taking in the human's broad shoulders and tight ass. The man looked back at the two of them, and Charles' gaze snapped back to his face.

Ares returned the nod, flaring a mandible. "Thank you."

"Of course, sir." The attendant flashed Ares a smile—the same smile Charles slapped on his face fifty times a day at work every time he had to deal with a customer. "Have a pleasant stay."

Oh, so close.

Ares glanced down at Charles, speaking low as the two of them walked up the grand steps of the hotel. "We just need to check in. I really meant it when I said we had some things delivered." He lifted his gaze and said, "You can get into something more comfortable when we get up there."

Brow twitching, Charles thought about all the bad human vids he'd seen with someone always saying something about 'slipping into something more comfortable' and choked the thought down. "Okay …." He let the word slide out of him, adding a hint of doubt and confusion, wondering if Ares seriously had some of his own, personal clothes sent there.

Empty bags he understood, or he guessed maybe shoving something inside so they had weight, but really what did it matter? He supposed Ares might've just been actually trying to make Charles' more comfortable, and if that was the case, it showed surprising insight and empathy. He didn't need to change his clothes, they weren't planning on killing anyone, so it wasn't like he might need to burn the suit he wore … unless they were going to kill someone. Humming, he mulled that over as he followed Ares, the thought bringing a smile to his face. Still, he grew increasingly uncomfortable as he took in the flash and pomp of the hotel looming in front of him, and he felt himself slipping back into that old way of moving, stepping lightly and taking in everything around him, noting all the faces, all the cameras, all the places he could bolt to if he needed to make a run for it.

The doors slid open for them at their approach, but still there were other attendants waiting on either side of the entryway, hands tucked behind their backs, smiling and nodding as Ares and Charles passed. The lobby seemed massive, sprawling with shiny, marble floors. Holy shit, it couldn't be real marble. A place would have to pay a fortune getting that much marble shipped in to the Citadel.

To the left, a long, gold-trimmed counter lined the wall with … ten fucking receptionists standing at terminals, smiles plastered on all their faces. On the opposite side of the room stood a row of elevators, each with golden buttons and polished, golden doors. Scattered throughout the middle, he saw nice, plush couches and chairs situated around low tables. They looked so nice, he didn't even think about wanting to sit on one. Yep, he definitely did not belong in the place, at all. Oh, he'd been in hotels just as nice a handful of times, but never as a paying customer … unless being escorted by some John who brought him in off the streets counted as being a paying customer. Ares led him over to the counter, stopping in front of an asari who barely looked old enough to be considered a maiden.

"Good day, sirs," she said with a smile, dipping her head in greeting. "How may I help you?"

"We have a room under the name 'Setius,'" Ares said, dipping his head and rumbling in a greeting of his own. "I believe I have had our bags delivered ahead of time."

It occured to Charles that Ares stood with his knees bent a little more than usual, curled in on himself just a touch, making him seem shorter, less imposing. Taking a slow, deep breath, Charles shifted his weight a little, trying to relax, telling himself he was supposed to be at that hotel. He had every right to be there, he was just another customer, checking in with his … damn, he still didn't really know what to call Ares. Even if the only reason they were checking in was to spy on Ares' sister's wedding. There wasn't anything illegal about looking out a window.

The woman typed on her terminal, smile not fading the slightest as her painted nails clicked on the keyboard. "Why, yes. Yes, I see here, Mr. Setius. An interspecies room with amenities for turian and human guests. Is that correct?"

Charles' eyebrow twitched, and he bit back a snort, curious to know what 'amenities' for both turian and human guests the hotel boasted.

"Yes." Ares glanced at Charles and offered him a warm smile, and though it caught him by surprise, the sight automatically pulled a grin from Charles. Ares looked back at the asari. "Are the wine and sampler trays already in the room?"

Wine and sampler trays? Shit, he really did think of everything, didn't he? Fuck, I almost wish this really was just a night for the two of us.

"Yes, sir." She nodded once. "We've delivered them as per your request at eight o'clock." She offered him a clearly fake chuckle. "Your warm h'ordeurves should still be very hot, sir. Please be careful. We wouldn't want to create any inconveniences."

"I'm sure we'll be fine," Ares purred warmly as the woman turned her attention back to her terminal.

It's like he's a completely different man. This is … actually kinda disturbing. The plates and paint are bad enough, but this … this is just weird.

"Very good, sir." She nodded and glanced down at something blocked from his view by the edge of the counter. "The hotel provides two key cards for each room. Please be sure to return them when you check out." Slipping the two key cards in a small sleeve, she handed them to Ares. "Your room will be on the twenty-sixth floor, room four overlooking the beautiful Sephone park. Please, be sure to contact room service if you need anything and enjoy your stay."

Ah! She said it. Well, if Ares' goes on a killing rampage, she'll be the first to go.

Ares nodded and wrapped his arm around Charles, purring. "We'll be sure to. Thank you."

Heart doing a stupid pitter-patter thing in his chest, Charles leaned into the touch, bringing his hand up to press against Ares' lower back. He really did love it when Ares made it clear they were together in public. Flashing a smile at the asari, he dipped his head to her as Ares led him away from the counter. Once out of earshot, he muttered, "I feel like I've just stepped through a portal into an alternate dimension."

Ares hummed as he tapped the call button for the elevator. "You can go back to normal once we get to the room."

Smirking despite how completely out of sorts he felt, Charles glanced up at Ares. "Nope. We're just going to stay here forever, and you're staying in that suit, all smiles and etiquette, for the rest of our lives."

Ares didn't respond beyond tightening his hand on Charles' ribs and then released him when the elevator doors opened. "Come on. We might be in time to see everyone getting to their seats," he said as he stepped in and turned to wait for Charles before hitting the button for the twenty-sixth floor, keeping anyone else from joining them.

Not that he could imagine what might be so exciting about watching a bunch of people sit down, but whatever, if Ares wanted to see it, who was he to say anything? Charles didn't relax much once the doors closed—he knew the elevators would have cameras—but he did feel a little better away from the flow of people and all of the splendor of the lobby. And, the quiet, solid feel of Ares at his side helped, even if for the time being, Ares wasn't acting like himself. Which, was actually a little amusing despite the creep factor.

As the elevator slowed to a stop, Charles asked, "What'd you have sent here?"

"From room service?" Ares glanced down to him, humming in question. "Or from your apartment?"

"From home." Charles moved a little closer to the doors as he waited.

Ares rumbled and looked up as the doors opened, leading the way out and glancing at a plaque on the wall where intricate, golden numbers and arrows pointed out the directions for room numbers on either side of the elevators. "Some of your clothes. Stuff you sleep in. Things you clean with." He shrugged and started walking down the left side of the hall.

Charles furrowed his brow. "How long are we staying?"

"At least a day. Long enough not to attract attention." Stopping in front of room four, Ares held the sleeve of key cards in a hand but just stood there, staring at the door. "I don't expect you to want to stay the whole time I have this room booked, so I won't make you."

Charles shrugged a little. "I have tomorrow off. I should head back for a little while to take Eezo out and feed her at some point, but I don't have anything better to do. We should have brought her with us, a place this nice would let guests do whatever the hell they want."

Ares shook his head as he slid one of the key cards out and held it before the reader, waiting for it to flash green. He looked down at Charles. "Eezo would attract attention."

Charles shrugged again, waiting for the door to open so he could get inside and relax a little. "We're just watching … yeah?"

Although the door opened, Ares didn't step inside. He let out a heavy breath, dragging Charles' attention back to him. "I can't let there be anything recognizable. It's just what I was trained to think. It's not something I can forget to do."

Pursing his lips, Charles nodded. "Alright." He made the effort to not point out that Ares was a giant and no matter what plates or clothes he wore or how much he stooped, he stood out—it wasn't like it was really something he could change about himself entirely.

Ares walked into the room, dropping the subject. The moment he crossed the threshold, automatic lights flicked on. The room's VI let out a chime and welcomed them, its simulated voice surprisingly masculine but holding a warm feeling of invitation in its flanged tone. Charles followed him inside, glancing around the room and letting out a low whistle. Floor to ceiling, tinted glass filled the far wall completely, and Ares headed right for it, taking off his jacket and tossing it on the slightly concaved bed as he went. He stopped in front of the window, staring out at the park with a rumble.

Moving further inside, Charles took note of the kitchenette to the left and the closed bathroom doors to the right. Couches and chairs—every bit as nice as the ones downstairs—surrounded a coffee table, a tray of finger foods sitting on top. A bucket of ice, with a bottle of wine nestled down inside, and glasses sat next to the tray. Unbuttoning his jacket, Charles followed Ares over to the window and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He looked down at the park, not really able to make out much of anything from the twenty-sixth floor beyond colorful dots moving around down below.

Glancing over his shoulder, he took in the chairs and table again before turning. He grabbed one of the chairs and dragged it over to the window, positioning it behind Ares, knowing damn well the turian wouldn't be leaving his spot by the window anytime soon. Making several trips, he pulled over the other chair, too, as well as a side table to put the food and wine on. Then, figuring the wine wouldn't be enough, he went and raided the refrigerator and bar area, bringing back as much alcohol as he could find to ply Ares with before setting the bottles down on the floor next to the small table. Ares remained standing, though, so for the time being, so did Charles.

Ares reached over without looking and grabbed the bottle of wine, popping it open before drinking straight from the bottle. "They're starting to take their seats."

Charles shifted enough to kick off his shoes, nudging them back toward the chair behind him before slipping off his jacket, tossing it in the same direction. "My eyes aren't really good enough to see what's going on, you'll have to keep filling me in." He glanced up at Ares. "When the big stuff happens."

Ares hummed, taking another long drink before nodding. He stepped closer to the window and leaned a forearm against it, pressing his forehead to his arm. "I think they're going to have some kind of turian officiant. Maybe they plan to bring the Spirits in to simulate human gods?"

Charles rumbled in his throat. "They might. Do you know which human culture they're borrowing from or if they're just mixing things together?"

"Not sure." Ares shook his head against his arm, only stepping back to drink before returning to his position against the glass. "Mom was really into appealing to the Spirits. I never got into that shit, but she was really into it. Maybe Maela is bringing some of that into it."

"What about your father?" Charles turned to the tray, picking up something he recognized as levo and stuffing it in his mouth before bending to pick up one of the bottles he'd sat on the floor, glancing at the label to see it was vodka before opening it and moving closer to Ares.

"Dad was more open than I am." Shrugging, Ares rumbled with a hint of sadness. "He was mostly concerned with Spirits that dealt with combat, with instilling courage or granting the dead peace. The rest was mostly just to support Mom, but I don't think he necessarily thought it was pointless."

Charles turned to face Ares, leaning his shoulder against the glass. "Were you and your sisters raised to be really into it like your mom?"

Ares hummed, standing up straight to take a long drink. He lowered the bottle to swallow, but took another deep drink before speaking. "Not in the way you'd expect. My mom encouraged it, but she didn't outright force us. She thought that it was up to us to decide if we really see the Spirits at work in our lives or not."

Charles nodded absently, glancing back down at the procession. He picked at the label of the bottle in his hand, spending a few seconds thinking about how religion was crammed down his throat early on … at least until Sarah died. "I've never really been able to make myself believe in any of that stuff, no matter how hard my parents pushed. Well, Mom, mostly. Dad didn't care about much of anything after the war." He snorted, and took a long drink from his bottle, savoring the irony. "Except for drinking."

Ares hummed and nodded, clearly and understandably distracted as he finished off the bottle of wine and then dropped it, letting it clunk against the floor. He bent down enough to grab another bottle of alcohol without reading the label and cracked the lid. "I couldn't find myself to believe any of that shit. Even more after starting to serve."

Charles took a deep breath. "Yeah, I can see that." He nodded his head toward the park, despite Ares' gaze not leaving the window. "What are they doing down there?"

Ares didn't speak for a long time, just let out a sad rumble. "Some kind of procession. I think it's started."

"People moving down the aisle in pairs?" Charles asked, turning back to the tray to pick over the selection, but somehow, none of it really looked all that appealing. Still, he was hungry, so he ate.

"Yeah," Ares said, drinking from his bottle of clear liquor. "There's some kids now. I don't recognize them."

"Hmm." Charles looked out the window, but instead of looking at the park, he glanced out over the skyline before turning his attention back to Ares. "If they're going really old fashioned and using a Christianized model … might be standing in as the flower girl and ring bearer."

Ares' expression faltered as he frowned. "I think … I think they might be my niece and nephew, from one of my older sisters probably. Maela doesn't have her own yet, but Sidna and Aelia do."

Charles glanced back at the park. "Do you know their names?"

"There's a few. Sidna has three and Aelia has two. Tiberius, Valex, and Rael are my nephews and Zella and Arria are my nieces." Ares released a shaky breath before downing some of his bottle.

Charles let the silence linger for a little while, eating and drinking as he watched. After a couple of minutes he asked, "You alright?"

"No," Ares said, audibly flicking his mandibles against his jaw. "There's couples walking down now. But they aren't my sister. Not yet."

"She'll probably be at the very end, and everyone will stand when she starts down." Charles cleared his throat a little. "Probably change the music for her. A lot of human cultures act like the bride is the most important thing in the ceremony."

"That's because she is." Drinking, Ares took a moment to watch the procession below before adding, "At least here she is."

Charles smiled, even though Ares' gaze stayed on the park, and softly said, "Yeah. She is."

"That's the groom, Maela's mate." Ares tilted his chin to the window. "His name is Daxium, but she calls him Dax."

Charles hummed, sliding across the glass to stand closer to Ares and put a hand on the turian's back, knowing things were about to move into the actual bonding part of the ceremony. He brought the bottle to his lips and tilted his head back, letting the vodka sit in his mouth a second before swallowing, soaking in the sting as it slid down his throat. He knew he really should eat something more with as much alcohol he was putting in his system, but at the moment he didn't really care.

Ares became deathly quiet, not even making a subvocal of sound, falling completely still. "There she is."

Charles rubbed Ares' back softly but didn't say anything. He wanted to remain a quiet figure, just in the back of Ares' mind, not saying or doing anything to steal his attention away from his sister. Charles tried to remember the details of the woman's face in the photo Ares showed him a couple of days before, but he couldn't really pull up a perfect image in his mind. Just remembered how happy she looked.

A low, soft keen came from Ares as he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to the glass. "They're sitting down now. They're about to start …."

Charles hummed softly, rubbing a little harder as Ares looked away. "You should keep watching, Ares," he said, voice barely more than a whisper. "You don't want to miss any more of it than you have to."

The breath left Ares in a low whine, his shoulders slumping. He stepped back from the window and opened his eyes. "I need to sit, and I need a lot stronger liquor." He growled and folded himself down on the floor—despite the chair Charles brought over—where he could still see out the window, bringing up his knees and resting an arm on one. "This shit isn't cutting it."

"I'll order something." Charles stepped away from the window to go look at the hotel's menu kiosk before placing an order for a bottle of the hard shit he knew Ares liked. Moving back to the window, he lowered himself to the floor next to the turian, sliding the tray of food off the table to set down between them, hoping it might entice Ares to eat something, too. "I ordered horosk." He picked at the food, eating a few pieces before taking a drink, gaze going back to the park, catching sight of a white blob with a long train moving down between the rows of chairs.

"She must have had that dress specially made for her," Ares said as he held the bottle before his eyes, looking at the label for the first time before taking a long drink. "It looks good on her."

Charles popped another little cracker with some sort of meat paste on it into his mouth. "Maybe one of her kids will wear it someday."

"Maybe," Ares said, subvocals distressed and filled with sorrow. "One more thing I won't be included in. If I even live that long."

Charles winced. He really kind of sucked at the whole supportive lover thing. "Sorry, that was a stupid thing to say."

Ares shrugged. "It's fine." He took a heavy pull from the bottle in his hand. "I think I've become numb to it. Or I hope I will by then."

Charles knew he wasn't numb to it, otherwise Ares wouldn't struggle so much just watching Maela's wedding. He didn't say anything though, just stared out the window for a couple of minutes before stuffing more food in his face and drinking more alcohol. "This part shouldn't take a real long time, but when it's done, they'll be married. Bonded. Whatever. Humans usually have a big party right after."

"I think they will, too. A ways down the park is a setup that looks like it." Ares exhaled, sounding as if something ripped the breath right out of him, looking away as he took another drink. "They're doing something with their hands. I can't see what." He glanced up to shrug at Charles before looking back down again. "I guess they decided to do rings or something."

Charles tilted his head a little, narrowing his eyes for what good it did. "They're not tying their hands together, are they? Handfasting? Humans used to do that sometimes, too. Before rings became real popular."

"Again, I can't tell." Ares held his breath as his mandibles fell. He stayed quiet for a long moment before he keened softly and dropped his head into the palm of his free hand. "It's done …. They're bonded …."

Charles reached over, settling his hand on Ares' knee. "I'm sorry you're hurting, Ares."

Ares growled, sitting upright and throwing the bottle at the window, shattering the bottle into pieces. The sudden act of aggression startled Charles, making him jump and yank his hand back. Ares dropped his head back into his hands with a loud keen, shoulders trembling.

"Your room service has arrived," the VI said before Charles could react any further.

He sucked in a deep breath, pulling himself up from the floor. Glancing back at Ares, he made his way to the door and answered it. Doing his best to block Ares from sight, he nodded absently at the salarian's greeting, tucking the bottle under his arm and signing off on the ledger with a scribble. Flashing the attendant a smile, Charles said thanks and closed the door in the man's face. He figured if tipping was a thing at the hotel, Ares would have to take care of it later.

He brought the bottle back over to the window and sat down next to Ares, glancing up to find the turian had ripped the prosthetics from his face, hands laying limply in his lap. Charles let out a soft hiss, knowing it'd hurt to pull them off like that and it ruined the plates, but at least he figured Ares brought more with him, probably in the bags he had sent to the hotel. He turned, putting his back to the glass and stretched his legs out in front of him, opening the bottle and handing it to Ares. Taking it from him, Ares spent a long time just drinking, swallowing without taking the bottle away from his mouth. Charles didn't say anything, he just sat there, picking at the food and drinking his vodka, casting furtive glances at Ares in between mouthfuls.

After awhile, with nearly half the bottle gone, Ares lowered it with a long, mournful sigh. "I guess now they'll have a more turian styled ceremony to celebrate."

"How long does that usually last?" Charles asked, a stupid idea starting to bubble up in the back of his mind.

Ares huffed a sharp, derisive laugh. "Hours? Until people go home? Probably for however long they could rent the place at the park."

Charles pursed his lips, gaze lowering to the tray of food. "Probably cordoned off, closed to the public, yeah?"

"Yes," Ares said before taking another long drink. "Not that Maela would turn away people if they came." He shrugged. "It's just who she is. Always giving."

"Hmmm." Charles picked up a mini quiche but just held it a moment. "I could go down there … if you wanted." He swallowed and glanced up at Ares, expecting to be told it was a stupid idea and he was an idiot for even offering. "Stick to the sidelines. Take pictures or something."

Ares went still, gaze straight ahead and subvocals silent. It took him a long time before he turned to Charles—just about long enough for Charles to think about backpedaling—and asked, "You'd do that? Even if it runs the risk of you being caught?"

Surprised by the response, Charles blinked and shrugged. "Sure. I'm human. I can always say I just thought it was neat they were doing a human ceremony, comment on her dress or something. Of course, I'll need to probably shower first or something, I'm sure I smell like you."

"Yeah. Yeah, you do." Ares moved to stand up, swaying a bit before righting himself. "The bath … it should have something that smells strong enough to cover it, though."

Charles climbed to his feet, swaying a little himself but not too bad. "Ares," he said, hoping to slow down the gears spinning in the turian's head and get his attention back on Charles. "I do this, you have to promise me you're not going to leave this room while I'm gone."

Ares' dismissive scoff came out as more of a drunken buzz, taking the sting right out of it. "I know how to stay off the radar, not put myself at risk."

"Uh huh. I know." Charles started toward the bathroom, stripping off his clothes. "But I also know you're drunk and emotional right now."

Ares merely grumbled when Charles stopped to look over his shoulder at him. Moving on unsteady feet, he walked to the coffee table to grab the ashtray and returned to his spot on the floor. Charles smiled and shook his head, going on into the bathroom. The damn bathroom was almost as big as the sleeping area, complete with a hot tub and a shower. He left the door opened as he pulled off the rest of his clothes and looked over the neat rows of bottles, bars, and jars.

"If they do talk to me, do you want me to use a different name?" He opened one, giving it a sniff before closing it and grabbing another, looking for the strongest smelling things he could find. "Should I go down in the same clothes or change?"

"There's a different pair of clothes in the closet. S'posst to be for when we're leaving but …."

"But?" Charles started the water in the shower. "I'll just wear the same thing when we leave. Or maybe mix up the stuff, wear some of both so it looks different." He waited a second, but when he didn't get an answer, he walked out of the bathroom to look at the turian. "Ares … I can't see you shrug or nod from the bathroom. What about my name? If I'm using something different … I can make up some bullshit to go with it if I need to, unless they start asking too many questions." He went back into the bathroom.

"Make something up. Use some truth. Makes it easier to remember."

"Wait." Charles stepped back out again. "Your cousin is C-Sec. What if he scans me to read my ID?"

Ares shrugged around a drink of the horosk. "Then I guess you gotta tell the truth."

Charles stared at the back of Ares' head for a second before closing his eyes and shaking his head. Letting out a sigh, he went back inside the bathroom. "I'll figure something out."

He climbed into the shower and used all the strongest, terrible smelling shit he could find, a lot of it carrying feminine scents … truthfully, he thought some of it smelled kind of nice, but he'd never admit it outloud. Scrubbing the hell out of himself, he tried to get as much of Ares' scent off of him as possible. When he finished, he dried off and splashed on some cologne crap before tousling his hair with a bit of styling wax.

Going back into the room, he looked in the closet, finding some of his own clothes and another suit, that one a dark blue with a more casual cut. He pulled out the suit and glanced over his shoulder at Ares. "Where exactly is their party?"

"Sephone park," Ares said without looking over.

Charles let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Right, but where at in the park?"

Ares hummed, silent otherwise for a long time. "Northeast side."

Once Charles was dressed, he stopped near the couches, keeping his distance from Ares so as to not pick up any more of his scent, even a little. "I won't be gone too long."

Ares mumbled something, the words too slurred to translate as anything other than gibberish and waved Charles off toward the door.