Chapter Text
John had been humming again. Kaidan wasn’t even sure his husband knew he was doing it, and their only saving grace was the fact that Jack had no idea why John had suddenly become enamored with this particular piece of music. The latest of the songs Kaidan had found worked for a specific kind of dancing.
Though he wasn’t about to explain any of that to Jack.
Let her think John had found a new composer he liked. Or maybe Anya had decided she was tired of the so called “boy bands” of 1990s Earth and jumped back a few centuries. Or maybe this was another one of Joker’s infamous bets
He wasn’t sure how that last one might work, but it was possible. The Normandy stopped by Tuchanka often enough that Joker could technically challenge John to a bet of some kind.
Not that John had ever participated in any of Joker’s bets before.
Kaidan sighed and punched the button to flip back to the previous screen. He wouldn’t care so much about Jack’s confused looks or John’s pleased little smile, but Kaidan had been in a mood himself all week. A mood of his own making, and somehow, that made it worse.
It shouldn’t be this hard.
All he wanted was to do something nice for John. That in and of itself wasn’t too difficult - his husband was easy-going, when the fate of the world didn’t rest on his shoulders, and Kaidan had learned early on the sorts of things John liked. Something as simple as a walk around a new part of town or visiting each other at work could make John’s whole day. He genuinely liked Kaidan’s company, was never shy about saying so, and after so many years together, it still made Kaidan’s insides squirm to think that all he had to do was walk into a room to make somebody happy.
Not even that - John had told him more than once that just knowing Kaidan was home made the day better.
It was part of what had helped him retire - the Spectres could make the world a better place without Major Alenko’s help.
Nobody else knew the happy little sound John made when Kaidan kissed him before his morning coffee.
Their life so far had been…well, amazing didn’t quite cover it. Whether recorded by the academics or dramatized by the media or memorialized by various cultures throughout the galaxy, or even whispered next to his ear while he and John sat on the roof watching the latest version of Tuchanka’s Aurora Borealis, the story of their life together always sounded like it had to be exaggerated. One man couldn’t possibly be involved in all that.
Kaidan had wondered, sometimes, if people knew how long he and John had spent dancing around each other if it would have made a difference. Love stories were always popular, especially if they had sad parts in the middle.
Though his Aunt Ruth would have pointed out that Kaidan had been sensible about that, and put the sad part at the beginning. I know those few years were hard. But they’re over now, and he’s all yours.
Smiling at the memory, it took Kaidan a moment to realize he was staring at a blank wall.
He’d gone up to their room after dinner, taking advantage of John’s stubborn insistence that he and Jack could clean up after dinner for once. Usually, Kaidan insisted on helping, but tonight he needed the privacy. Or would, if he was actually getting anything done with it.
Blinking hard, he looked back down at the datapad in front of him.
He still had time. Tuchanka was farther from Aralakh than Earth was from the sun, and her years were longer because of it. By the Krogan calendar, he and John hadn’t even lived here a full year. But by Earth’s calendar they’d lived here nearly a decade, and that seemed something worth celebrating.
There had been a day, nearly three years after the Reaper War had ended, that John had stepped onto this planet, and that screaming, howling demon inside him had finally started to settle. Nightmares came and went, and sometimes there were days when all the dark things came rushing back, despite Aralakh’s burning glare. But they were moments, and moments that now lacked the teeth and claws that had so wounded John back on Earth.
The Krogan, feared across the galaxy, and their planet, long thought barely habitable, had kept John safe while he healed. And while it wasn’t an official holiday, ten years of being happy seemed like something worth celebrating.
And given their new found, mutual delight in Kaidan proving that, had the Alliance not worked out, he could most certainly have gotten a job at Afterlife, it seemed like this nice thing he was trying to do should be along the same track.
John had been right - it was more fun to practice as a pair. While Kaidan had been initially embarrassed about trying to match the vids of svelte, professional dancers who’d been doing this for decades, John hadn’t cared at all. And watching lithe Asari and graceful humans shift and writhe with a far more analytical eye than Kaidan could muster, sitting in John’s lap as the low base of the music buzzed through the datapad’s speakers, John had saved him the trouble more than once of trying to learn a move that didn’t interest either of them.
There was more than one school of thought on what a lap dance should include, and as ever, John was more than happy to skip the more complicated options.
Kaidan had been the one to throw out the “no touching” rule. It was important for keeping working professionals safe and comfortable. But Kaidan was no professional, and he felt safest and most comfortable with John’s hands on him while he did this.
It made him feel attractive, and desirable, and kept him from falling backward off the couch.
One of the things John seemed most ambivalent about was the clothing he wore. Again, some of the vids had options that were far too elaborate, but in general, it seemed like a noticeable lack of clothing was expected. Or Kaidan could simply take it off as part of the dance; sometimes, John even helped.
But while his boots and briefs and old dog tags might be enough of a costume to stir John’s blood, Kaidan wanted…more.
Or at least, to try it.
If they didn’t like it, then it would make for a mildly embarrassing, mostly amusing story.
But that brought him back to his original problem - what to do?
And even if he kept it simple and familiar, what could he wear?
And why were these sites so confusingly complicated?
“That wall’s really putting you through it.”
Turning so fast it was almost a jerk, Kaidan felt himself smile as John crossed the room. He wondered how long his husband had been standing in the doorway, watching.
John liked to do that. Watch him. Observe in general, whether a battlefield or their friends having fun figuring out some new extranet game on their large, holographic vid screen. Blue eyes as brilliant as the mind behind them, capturing every detail. Eyes that loved to watch him , because John thought he was breathtaking on his worst days.
“It’s not the wall’s fault,” Kaidan said, thumbing off the datapad as John sat next to him. “I’m just…stuck.”
“Can I help?” John’s first response, no matter what was going on.
Kaidan shook his head. “Not this time.”
John raised his eyebrows at his reply. “Sounds ominous.”
“No.” Kaidan sighed and waved absently with the powered off datapad. “I’m just…”
“Stuck?” John asked, gently.
Kaidan looked at him. Features that could so easily have been sharpened through glares and scowls, instead kept soft by smiles and laughter. Bright blue eyes that missed almost nothing, set below a brow that - Allers had been right - could really brood when it wanted to. Short brown hair that hid that iconic scar and refused, point blank, to curl, ever.
It had not gone unnoticed that John loved Kaidan’s curls. It had taken time to break the habit, and he kept his hair a bit shorter now, in Tuchanka’s near relentless heat, but Kaidan had trained himself to leave his hair ungelled on the days he didn’t have to work. Strictly for the delight of watching John notice, and seeing how long it took his husband to reach out and tuck an errant strand of black hair behind one ear.
John wasn’t going to let Kaidan’s predicament go - he was constitutionally incapable of leaving someone in distress - so that meant he’d need to be distracted. And since Kaidan had always been terrible at lying, it would have to be tactfully done. “I’m trying to do something nice for you.”
And just like that, the eyebrows went back up. “You don’t have to do that.” His smile was lazy, tilting higher on one side. “You’re always nice to me.”
“Says the man who makes up poems over breakfast because I’m ‘too beautiful to bear’.”
John laughed and wrapped an arm around Kaidan’s waist. “I only make them up because no one else has written the right words yet.” He placed a kiss on the tip of Kaidan’s shoulder. “And you are beautiful, my love.”
This. This was why he wanted to do something nice. Because John was a shameless romantic, and Kaidan just couldn’t do that on the spot. He had to plan his romance, no matter how often John told him he didn’t need it.
Maybe John was content with a practical, predictable husband who was still coming to terms with the idea of no longer being in the military, but Kaidan wasn’t. John deserved to be adored, too, and not just by Kaidan’s meticulous, possibly obsessive, need to do most of the chores around their home.
“Speaking of being stuck…” John had been trailing soft kisses across his shoulder. Now, he sat up, something apologetic in his tone. “Remember that thing Tali invited us to? Something about the establishing of a formal art and culture center on Rannoch?”
Kaidan nodded. “She didn’t seem to know a lot about it,” Tali had spent much of her time since the war helping to stabilize the surviving Geth and help build new ones, “but she thought it might be fun.”
“I’m not sure Tali had read the list of proposed performances when she said that,” John said dryly.
Kaidan bit his lip. “You want me to try and get us out of it?”
John shook his head. “Even if you still had Spectre status, you’d only be able to save yourself. And I, selfishly, don’t want to do this alone.”
Letting the datapad drop quietly to the floor, Kaidan turned and wrapped his husband up in a proper hug. “You never have to do anything alone, John.”
It was only an art show this time, but the sentiment was an old one, and an important one. John had spent too much time after London trying to be strong enough to stand on his own, trapped by the idea that this time, too, he’d end up lost and alone. So even when it was just doing a favor for a friend - an old friend, who would never ask them for something really terrible - the words were important.
Promises like this one didn’t come with an expiration date.
Holding Kaidan close, John pressed a kiss to his neck. “Still, this could be one of those ‘memorable experiences’ your Aunt Ruth likes to talk about.” The hand at Kaidan’s waist tugged inquiringly at the hem of his shirt. “Can I make it up to you? Do something ‘nice’ for the man who doesn’t even like live theater?”
“I like it,” Kaidan protested, “I just don’t…like it best.”
John laughed at the child-like phrasing. “OK, but I like you best.” Another kiss, just under Kaidan’s jaw. “Can I show you how much?”
Threading fingers through John’s short, straight hair, Kaidan tugged him up for a kiss before pulling them both down onto their bed.