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One would generally not see Javik, last voice of the Protheans, as someone willing to submit to another, especially not in bed. In reality, he just needed a little coaxing, and possibly a bargain.
When the human he considers his mate had challenged him to the trivial and pointless human game of tossing empty bottles in the air and shooting them, he agreed. He had every reason to be sure of the fact that he was the better shot. However, he did not expect that Shepard would make the ridiculous suggestion that Javik would have to switch roles in bed for a night if Shepard won- and he, a member of an unarguably superior species, had not expected to lose.
Unfortunately, he now has to deal with the consequences. He is a man of his word.
Commander Shepard kneels at the foot of the bed, Javik sprawled out on the mattress before them. Propped up on his elbows, Javik glares at the human. They smile, sickly sweet, pointedly ignoring Javik’s indignant growl as they run their fingers over the protective chitin plates on his thigh.
"You will speak of this to no one," Javik hisses, his face twisted in a scowl to conceal any embarrassment or, perish the thought, nervousness . Nervousness is not an emotion he will allow himself to feel. He is better than that.
His eyes remain glued to Shepard's right hand as they coat their three middle fingers in lubricant, grinning in a way that Javik does not at all appreciate.
"Calm down, tough guy, I'll keep this between us." Shepard wraps an arm around Javik's leg and hooks it over their shoulder, ghosting their lips against the soft part of Javik’s inner thigh, making him shiver despite himself. "For now," they add slyly.
The kick aimed at Shepard’s head misses by barely an inch.
"You talk too much,” he grumbles, “Remind me why I decided that tolerating your affections was a good idea?”
They chuckle, resting both hands on Javik’s defined hips as they brush their lips against the edge of his sheath. They lean in to draw their tongue over the length of the long slit between Javik’s thighs, and Javik allows himself a small sigh of pleasure at the soft touch. Shepard asks mischievously, “Would a blowjob be a good enough reminder?”
“Perhaps,” Javik replies, placing both hands on the back of the human’s head. Prothean genitalia is internal and hidden when not in use, but it doesn't take long for Shepard to coax it out of its sheath, wrapping their hand around the base of Javik's cock as it stiffens and swells to its full length. They stroke a thumb over the tip and lick it, repeating the movement when Javik lets out a gravelly hum of approval.
Shepard takes the flushed head in their mouth and flicks their tongue against it leisurely, daring to shift a hand underneath their partner and press a slick finger against his entrance as they suck the head of his cock. Javik's body goes rigid when he feels the human’s fingers start to wander. He digs his nails into Shepard’s scalp, ignoring the way that they grunt in pain, the sound slightly muffled by the cock in their mouth.
"Slower," he orders as Shepard starts to ease him open and push the finger inside, growling in frustration when they laugh - once again muffled, but unmistakable.
"I'll be gentle, babe, trust me. Just relax," Shepard teases as they pull off of his cock, reaching up to put a broad hand on Javik's chest and push him flat on his back. Reluctantly, Javik allows himself to be rearranged into a more convenient position, grumbling under his breath. He pinches the human’s ear just to make his resentment particularly clear.
Javik tries not to squirm in discomfort as Shepard works their index finger deeper inside him, adding more lubricant to make it easier. The sensation is... strange, to say the very least. He's never been in such a position until now- in his cycle, there were few reasons to have sex for any reason other than reproduction, and even fewer opportunities to experiment like this.
"Is this okay?" Shepard asks, evidently choosing to be genuine instead of continuing their usual banter. Javik only glares, shifting the angle of his thighs and spreading them a bit wider when Shepard pushes them apart.
“You told me that this was supposed to feel good- ah-! " Javik cuts himself off with a gasp when the finger finds the Prothean equivalent of a prostate. Javik, entirely by accident, kicks Shepard directly in the jaw.
Well, he could always lie and say that face-kicking was a traditional romantic gesture in his cycle. Maybe he won’t get in too much trouble for that.
Shepard curses loudly when Javik's foot makes contact with their face, reeling from the force of the blow. They cup a hand over their injured cheek and wince, gingerly feeling the rapidly bruising skin.
"Javik, honey, I know you're nervous, but what the fuck?" they ask, rubbing at their jaw as they sulk. Javik snarls and (gently) shoves his foot against Shepard's face to push them away, slamming his thighs shut rather than letting them sprawl open invitingly. He feels his face grow hot with embarrassment; the sound he made when Shepard touched that spot inside him was nearly a squeak, a yelp at best, and he is shamed for it.
"Do not call me that!" he hisses, mouth twisted into a sneer. "And I am not nervous! You... startled me."
Shepard scoffs. They climb up on the bed rather than sitting at the foot of it, resting both hands on Javik's legs and gently pushing them apart again for them to kneel between. Calloused fingers stroke the soft skin at the inside of Javik's thigh despite his guarded, mistrusting scowl, and Shepard frowns at him.
"I told you we can take it slow, or stop, whatever you're comfortable with," they say, their voice taking on a softer tone. When Javik's scowl only deepens, they sigh. “Fine. Be that way.”
Javik grunts in surprise as Shepard settles their hand on the back of his neck and yanks him in for a kiss, all teeth and tongue. His fangs sink viciously into Shepard’s lower lip as they once again start to push a finger into him to stretch him out, muffling a pained growl when a second finger squeezes inside alongside the first. He manages not to attack Shepard when they find his prostate this time, digging his claws into the human’s shoulders as they start to ( gently ) massage the sensitive bundle of nerves.
"Better?" Shepard asks, the tone of their voice becoming just a touch smug when Javik’s muscles clench up tight around their two fingers, thighs twitching. Javik, mortified by his own carnal reactions, can only manage a curt nod. He wouldn't want to speak and risk choking on his words, making an even bigger fool of himself.
Eventually, he finds a comfortable rhythm with the movement of Shepard's hand, propping himself up with his elbows, not yet willing to just hold still and take it. His thighs fall open a little wider and he rocks down on Shepard's fingers, finally allowing himself to enjoy the feeling instead of holding back.
Shepard hooks the pads of their fingers against his prostate and Javik jolts and bites his lip to hold back a moan. They’re watching him so intensely that he can almost feel it, devouring the sight of him as he writhes.
Despite his efforts, Javik can't muffle a sort of strange chirping noise that fluctuates in pitch and volume, vaguely reminiscent of the sounds the Collectors made. The low chirps and trills that buzz in his throat are clear sounds of pleasure, the mating song of a dead culture. If Shepard were Prothean, they would have answered with their own affectionate, rumbling chirr, communicating in a language of passion and sex rather than coherent thought.
Unfortunately, their primitive vocal cords prevent such a range of sound. The only reply that they’re able to offer is sweet nothings and praises murmured against Javik’s thorax, soft lips on his neck. Not what he’s accustomed to, but not at all unwelcome.
Javik falls back against the mattress once again, clutching the bedsheets in a three-fingered hand. His toes curl, his body tenses and convulses with every twitch and curl of Shepard’s fingers and fuck , this human will be his undoing, he is sure of it.
A third finger joins the first two and increases the stretch and slight twinge of pain; blunt, useless teeth click against Javik’s sharp fangs as they kiss almost furiously, more like a battle than a display of affection between lovers.
It takes a heroic amount of effort for Javik to stop himself from whimpering as Shepard’s fingers withdraw from his body, leaving him empty, shaking, unsatisfied. His crest rests against the human’s shoulder, his face tucked against their neck, and Javik breathes, trying to pull himself together where he’s fallen apart.
Plastic crinkles as Shepard unwraps the condom and rolls it on. Their hands smooth over the insides of Javik’s thighs and spread them wider, making room for Shepard to fit between, but Javik growls and pushes them off.
“No. On your back,” he orders, and Shepard goes down easily, hands coming to rest on Javik’s waist as he straddles them.
His hand wraps possessively around Shepard’s neck, gently squeezing, stroking his thumb over the soft skin of the human’s throat. Some ancient, primal instinct tells him to snarl approvingly, making his satisfaction known as Shepard tips their head back and bares their throat in clear surrender. With gentle hands to guide him as their bodies join together, Javik slowly, deliberately lowers himself, and takes Shepard inside him.
It hurts, it burns even with the lubricant to ease the friction, thick and hard and unforgiving inside him, stretching him more than the human's three fingers. Despite the discomfort, he refuses to give up now and display weakness in front of the likes of Shepard.
Not that he cares about their opinion, of course. Definitely not.
Javik shifts both of his hands to brace against Shepard’s shoulders instead of gripping their throat, claws digging into their flesh as he forces himself down another inch or so, exhaling through clenched teeth in a soft hiss of pain. Shepard looks worried, and Javik resents their concern, but they make no attempt to comfort him, simply wrapping their hand around Javik's cock and gently stroking him from base to tip. It helps, and Javik lets out a low, throaty sound of pleasure despite the ache.
Shepard pushes themself up into a sitting position, confident hands resting at Javik’s hips to guide him. Javik growls in displeasure, but adjusts the angle as Shepard sees fit, his eyes squeezed shut tight and claws biting into his palms as Shepard buries themself to the hilt inside him.
His inexperience shows more prominently than ever as he makes a clumsy attempt at riding Shepard, grunting in pain and discomfort. It looked so easy when he was watching them bounce on his cock just a few days ago. Showoff.
Shepard rests their hands on Javik's thighs, tilting Javik’s hips up and thrusting shallowly. "Is that any better?" Shepard asks, their voice soft and just a little breathless, soft, scarred skin flushed and warm. The only answer Javik can give them is a hoarse gasp when their cock slides against exactly the right spot, his legs quickly wrapping around their waist to hold them there, his heels digging into their lower back hard enough to bruise.
" Yes -" Javik sighs, truly sighs in relief and unexpected pleasure, rocking himself down into his mate’s lap with more enthusiasm than before. "That feels- it’s- ah , good." His own mouth isn’t exactly working in sync with the speed of his brain, so he settles on grabbing Shepard by the jaw and kissing them forcefully, muffling a groan against their lips. The two of them move in tandem once they find a steady rhythm together, chest to chest and clutching each other close as if they depend on full contact with the other to survive.
Shepard grabs Javik's ass in both hands and pulls him down in their lap a little more firmly, trying to angle their hips to rub up against his prostate with each thrust. Javik grows bolder once he adjusts to the pain of the stretch along with the pleasure, lifting himself off of Shepard’s cock, then dropping himself down in his lap to bury it inside him again in one swift movement. He grins triumphantly when he forces a sharp gasp and a moan out of Shepard, quickly repeating the rough grind of his hips to hear the human groan his name, even if it does cause him some pain.
Though he still requires Shepard’s hands on his hips to guide him into moving at the right angle, he could definitely get used to this.
Javik’s breath comes in harsh pants and his thighs tremble as Shepard rolls their hips up to meet him each time he lowers himself down. He feels his heart skip a beat or two when he meets his mate’s eyes and sees them so bright with lust and desperation and what only can be described as love . Shepard hugs him close, groping the impressive muscles of his back and shoulders; Javik’s thighs squeeze tighter around Shepard’s waist when they kiss Javik’s crest.
The previous violence of their coupling dwindles as the both of them near completion. Javik wraps his arms around Shepard’s shoulders to steady himself while the commander trails open-mouthed kisses along the side of his neck, carefully biting at the ridged, red flesh of his throat. They fuck into him with short, frenetic thrusts, moving with the desperation of someone hovering right on the edge of climax.
Shepard’s breath is hot, stuttering against Javik’s neck, and Javik can’t help but shudder. An unsteady hand at his lower back pulls him closer; they sink their teeth into his shoulder possessively. His low groans and higher trills rise into a needy clicking, chirping sound as he tries to fight back the heat pooling in his gut, coiling like a spring wound too tight- no, no, he has to hold out for just a little longer, Shepard has to cum first, fuck- fuck not yet -
Overcome, Javik throws his head back and keens wordlessly, raking his claws across Shepard’s back to leave raised, red, bloody scratches in his wake. The movement of his hips loses all rhythm as he cums so hard it leaves him gasping, trembling, grinding down into Shepard's lap forcefully enough to bruise their hips. The intensity of the feeling borders on pain, consuming all else until only white-hot pleasure remains.
It doesn't take much more to bring Shepard to their climax shortly after Javik. The human muffles a curse against his shoulder as they come, bucking up into Javik’s sore, sensitive body as they both ride out their orgasms.
The two stay entangled in each other's arms as they struggle to catch their breath, and Shepard leans back to let their shoulders touch the mattress again. They huff a startled ‘oof’ when Javik flops down on top of them, unwilling to move ever again, probably.
When the sticky feeling of sweat and cum becomes too unpleasant to tolerate any longer, Javik clumsily lifts himself off of Shepard’s cock with an exhausted groan, rolling over onto his back next to them and waiting for his four eyes to refocus as he stares up at the ceiling. He slips into contemplation, thinking over the... unexpected events that just took place. He let Shepard fuck him, and he enjoyed it far more than he expected. He just had one of the most intense orgasms of his life. He's exhausted, he's sweaty, his thighs and stomach are slick with cum and lube. But he's satisfied.
And sore .
He hisses at the human sprawled out on the bed next to him when they kiss him on the cheek, eventually relenting and letting them use his shoulder as a pillow. For once, he can’t find a reason to refuse their affection. It’s sort of nice, in a strange way, though you couldn’t pay him to admit it.
Shepard sighs almost dreamily, kissing one of the bite marks on Javik's neck. A sweet, tender gesture that makes Javik’s chest feel warm, for some reason.
"You know, if you keep saying it like that, then you can refer to me by first name whenever the hell you want," they murmur sleepily, still insisting on peppering Javik's neck and shoulders with little kisses. “Fuck professionalism, scream my name in your weird-ass cicada porno voice in the middle of the Citadel or something. Like, hot-weird, not weird-weird.”
Shepards’s words don’t sink in at first. Javik is tired, and warm, and can’t be bothered to wonder what a cicada is, or parse out the difference between ‘weird-weird’ and ‘hot weird’. Then it clicks into place- ‘scream my name’, they said- and Javik’s eyes snap open wide with horror.
Maybe his climax wasn't so wordless after all. Maybe he had let slip one last needy cry of Shepard’s rarely-used first name as he came, and was too overwhelmed to register his moment of weakness.
Javik lets out a loud groan of frustration and puts his hands over his face, ignoring Shepard's incessant giggling. He has rarely hated himself or his mate more than he does now.
"C'mon, baby, do it again- Commander, oh Commander don't stop, wreck my ass with your primitive human cock- " Javik slaps a hand over Shepard’s mouth to shut them up, cheeks growing hot with embarrassment.
“Silence!” he hisses.
“Make me,” Shepard taunts, muffled by his hand.
Despite how utterly humiliating this was, he doubts he could say that he would never want to try it again. Not any time soon, though. He currently has too many problems that need dealing with to consider the possibility of repeating this experience- such as the fact that Shepard just licked his fucking hand when he covered their mouth, and Javik has a growing need to beat the human into a pulp.
Later, though. After a nap, a shower, maybe a back rub if he can convince his mate to give him one.
His mate . He still isn’t accustomed to referring to Shepard- or anyone, really- as such.
He likes it.