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Shepard settled himself at an empty table in Purgatory (and wasn’t that a metaphor) after making the rounds, checking in with Aria, chatting with Jack, trying to convince Joker that having a robotic girlfriend was better than no girlfriend at all.
He was tired of being obligated to talk to people. All he really wanted to do was drink. He wasn’t an alcoholic, but damn if this war wasn’t made just a little easier with a tumbler of whiskey in his hand. The liquid burned and soothed as it slid down his throat, and he leaned back in the secluded booth, giving off his best “I’m Commander Shepard, and you are my least favorite person on the Citadel” vibe.
Blankly, his eyes traveled over the people writhing together on the dance floor, disregarding species or gender, desperation evident beneath the smiles and laughter and touching.
He did a double-take. Was that…?
Yes, it had to be. He would know that hair, those broad shoulders (and that ass) anywhere, even in civvies, denim jeans hugging the curves of his rear and thighs. Kaidan was dancing, flowing with the hard music, with a sensuality Shepard had never seen before. He turned his head slightly to the side, confirming his identity without a doubt as Shepard took in his unmistakable profile, eyes closed, lips slightly parted.
A feminine hand snaked up around the back of Kaidan’s neck, and that was when it hit Shepard that the Major was not dancing alone. He felt an irrational surge of jealousy. They had flirted a little, but it wasn’t like he had ever come out and confessed that he’d been in love with the man since the chase after Saren. He had no right to want to control what he did on his…
…what he…
Shepard’s mouth went dry.
They had rotated on the dance floor, inadvertently giving Shepard a better view. Kaidan’s partner was extremely attractive, with long wavy red hair and delicate features, a slim body but filled out in all the important places, wearing skintight leather pants and a low-cut top that showed off her assets.
Her eyes were closed, her head thrown back against his shoulder as she rolled her hips against his. One of his hands had pushed her shirt up a few inches, and his fingers were splayed on her bare stomach, the tip of his ring finger dipping just below the waistline of her pants. His other hand trailed down her body, skimming the swell of her breasts and coming to rest low on her hips, keeping her pressed against him.
Shepard heard his blood pound in his ears as he watched Kaidan, brows furrowed in concentration and pleasure, grinding against the woman. Her hand tangled in his hair, and Shepard wondered if she knew he was a biotic, if she knew that his amp jack was an erogenous zone for him, as he’d confessed to Shepard, giggling uncharacteristically, one night years ago after a few too many drinks.
Then, she had clearly found it, because Kaidan’s mouth opened in a moan and he buried his nose in her hair, clinging more tightly to her body. The wicked smile on her face suggested that she knew exactly what she was doing, and Shepard wondered if they knew each other, if maybe she was the doctor he had mentioned seeing a few times. He wondered if Kaidan had fucked her, and if his face had looked as beautiful when he was buried inside her as it did now, grinding himself into her ass as she stroked her fingers across his jack.
At some point Shepard had started massaging himself through his pants. It was dark enough, and he was slouched far enough under the table, that hopefully nobody would notice the Savior of the Galaxy holding his prick while watching a crewmate dry-hump some woman in a club. His pace increased as Kaidan’s breathing seemed to get harsher, one hand cupping one of the woman’s breasts, heedless of the other dancers. Shepard unzipped his fly and slid his hand in to get a better grip on his shaft, pumping himself through his briefs in time with the figure-eights of their hips.
Kaidan gritted his teeth and spun the woman, bending his knees so that he was closer to her height, pushing one thigh between her legs and roughly pulling her closer. Their foreheads were pressed together and she was gripping the front of his form-fitting button-down shirt, one of his hands resting on her ass, kneading gently. Shepard knew he was intruding on something very private, but fuck, if this was the closest he would ever get to that kind of intimacy with Kaidan, he would take it and be grateful.
And then Shepard felt even dirtier as he watched the smooth gyration of the woman’s hips become erratic, watched as her hands clung tighter to the fabric of his shirt and she buried her face in his neck, and the smirk on Kaidan’s face was all the confirmation he needed to know that the Major had just made a woman come in public without removing a single article of clothing.
God damnit but that was hot.
Shepard was close to coming too, watching their display, but suddenly the woman was whispering something in Kaidan’s ear, and there was a slow smile spreading across his face, and he was nodding and then they were leaving the dance floor, heading for the exit which would take them right past him—
He zipped up his fly so quickly he might have been worried about catching something at any other time. As it was, all he wanted was to pretend he didn’t exist, and especially that he hadn’t just watched a woman he didn’t know have an orgasm on the thigh of the man he loved.
It seemed that the galaxy wasn’t on his side (but then, when is it ever).
“Shepard?” He was sweaty and disheveled and the most heartbreakingly gorgeous creature Shepard had ever seen.
“Oh – hey, Kaidan, what are you doing here?” Shepard tried to sound nonchalant and suspected that he failed horribly.
“Just… uh, unwinding.” The Major cleared his throat and turned to his companion. “Tara, this is John Shepard. Commander Shepard. Shepard, this is my… friend, Tara.”
Shepard took her proffered hand and had to remind himself to modulate his grip so he didn’t crush her (small, so small) fingers.
“Nice to meet you.” Her voice was soft and musical, barely audible over the pounding bass. She looked up at Kaidan, batting her eyelashes. “We should probably get going.”
His face flushed deeper and his gaze darted between Shepard and the woman.
“Uh – yeah, I guess so. See you back on the Normandy, Shepard.”
The Commander raised his glass in a wordless salute as they moved away from him, but he didn’t miss it when the woman’s hand slid down Kaidan’s back, caressing his ass through his jeans. Shepard flinched and looked away.
* * *
Back in his cabin, Shepard sat at his couch, a bottle of something strong and alcoholic – bourbon, according to the label, but he couldn’t really taste it anymore – next to him as he tried to review datapads. He was too awake to go to bed, despite the late hour, still irrationally angry at Kaidan for being involved with someone who wasn’t him and angry at himself for falling in love with someone as unattainable as the biotic.
A tentative knock came at his door.
“EDI, who is that?”
“Major Alenko is requesting entrance, Shepard.”
Wait… what?
“Please inform him that I would prefer if he came back later.”
There was a brief pause, then – “Major Alenko is currently hacking into your quarters, Shepard.”
Sure enough, moments later the door slid open, admitting Kaidan, who looked less flushed than he had in Purgatory, though his hair was still deliciously tousled. Shepard tried not to notice.
“Can this wait until morning, Kaidan?”
“No, John, it really can’t.” Shepard looked up, startled. Kaidan rarely called him by his first name.
“I thought you were spending the night with your girlfriend.”
The Major gaped a little. “Girlfriend? Who, Tara? Not – not my girlfriend, Shepard. She’s just…” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, tousling it more. “She’s just a warm body.”
“Her body looked a little more than warm.” Shepard raised a skeptical eyebrow, and Kaidan’s cheeks pinked.
“Yeah, very funny, she’s hot, I get it.” He looked like he was fighting to suppress a smile, and a sudden burst of anger seized Shepard.
“Why did you come up here, Kaidan?” He didn’t want to hear about Kaidan’s partners, all the hot women who’d had him without even realizing how lucky they were.
He stared resolutely at the bottle of bourbon on the table, knowing his next words were petulant, fueled by alcohol and jealousy, but saying them anyway. “If you wanted to gloat, rub it in that the second human Spectre is getting laid more than the first, I’m not interested. I don’t want to hear about the women you’ve fucked, especially not, what, half an hour after you fucked them? Just… leave.”
As the silence after his statement stretched on, he chanced looking up at the other man. Kaidan’s shy smile was gone, and he looked like he’d been slapped across the face.
“I didn’t sleep with her tonight. I came back here because you looked lonely and miserable, Shepard, and I didn’t want you to be by yourself.” His voice was quiet and bitter. “But if you want me to go, I’ll go.”
He got fully out the door before Shepard caught up with him, fingers curling around the inside of his elbow. There was something broken in Shepard’s eyes when Kaidan turned to look at him.
“Stay,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. Stay.”
Kaidan regarded him in silence for a moment, searching for something in his face. He let out a long breath through his nose.
“Yeah, okay.” His hand came up to Shepard’s cheek, hovering inches away from the skin as if he wanted to caress him, but then he dropped it abruptly, smiling apologetically instead.
He let Shepard lead him back into his quarters, over to the couch he had been sitting on, and eyed the bourbon. “That bad, huh?”
“Yeah. That bad.”
“Is it always like this, John?”
“…yes.” His voice was so small, so incongruous with the larger-than-life figure of Commander Shepard. Kaidan scooted closer unconsciously.
Shepard couldn’t meet his eyes now, ashamed of his outburst, and of how weak he must seem, turning to something like alcohol as a coping crutch. But then Kaidan had crooked a finger under his chin and was forcing his head up, and those amber eyes were too warm and forgiving, and he just didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve anything about the man.
“It’s okay, Shepard. I’m here. You don’t have to bear this burden alone.”
Shepard knew he shouldn’t. Knew it was inappropriate, knew it was horrendous timing, and knew he could lose what little he had with Kaidan, but the alcohol had emboldened him, and Kaidan’s mouth was so close, and his voice was so caring… Shepard leaned forward and touched his lips to the biotic’s.
Kaidan froze for half a second, during which Shepard felt his blood run cold (shit, I’ve made a terrible mistake, I’ve just ruined everything), but then he let out a whimper and responded with so much need that Shepard could have cried. Kaidan’s tongue was tracing the seam of his mouth; he opened it, allowing entrance, and then the warm slickness of his tongue was against Shepard’s own, and one hand was cupping the side of his face, the other hooked around his waist, keeping him close.
Kaidan was pushing him down onto his back on the couch, moving over him and pressing his body to Shepard’s, and wait, no, he didn’t want this to stop but he had to know –
“Kaidan,” he managed, but it sounded too breathy, like a moan (which, to be honest, it kind of was), and then Kaidan moaned “John” in return and now it was really hard to get him to stop, because fuck, he never thought he would hear his name cross that man’s lips in that tone. But he finally got his hands on Kaidan’s shoulders, pushed back, forced him to make eye contact.
“Kaidan, stop.”
The Major blinked in confusion.
“I – am I just a warm body, too? Is that all this is, because you didn’t – because you and that woman didn’t –”
His eyes opened wider. “Shepard, no. You’ve never – you could never be just a warm body to me.” He took a deep breath, as if steeling himself, and there was honesty and fear in his eyes when he spoke. “I was using her, Shepard.” His gaze slid away. “Because I couldn’t have you.”
Shepard gaped. At his continued lack of responding, Kaidan shifted uncomfortably. “Say something, Shepard.”
His mouth opened and closed a few times before he managed to form words.
“Me, Kaidan? But you never – I didn’t – she’s not even a guy,” he finished lamely.
Kaidan made a small self-deprecating noise. “She was there. She was interested.” His voice hiccupped. “You were gone.”
“Oh… god, Kaidan. How long?” His fingers were clutching at Kaidan’s collar, running over his cheek, disbelieving.
“Since the beginning.” He shrugged weakly.
Shepard surged up and captured his mouth, pushing them back up to a seated position. He flung a leg over Kaidan’s thighs to straddle the man and groaned as the Major’s hands slid around to his ass, holding him in place.
He started unbuttoning Kaidan’s shirt, kissing his neck and softly trailing his lips down each inch of skin as it was bared.
“Shepard, wait.”
Now it was the Commander’s turn to look up at Kaidan, surprised and confused.
“You’re drunk.”
“Only a little.”
“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing, John. If you’re going to regret this in the morning, or if you just want company for the night, I’m not sure I can –”
He was cut off as Shepard’s mouth covered his desperately, hands on either side of his head.
When they broke apart, Shepard stayed close, nose brushing Kaidan’s intimately, almost sweetly.
“It’s always been you, Kaidan.”
A beat of stunned silence, then – “You’re kidding.”
The inanity of the statement made Shepard choke out a laugh. Kaidan followed moments later, both men clinging to each other, tension broken, laughing helplessly into each other’s mouths until their eyes shone with tears. Shepard caught his breath first and gazed very seriously at Kaidan, who tried to muster an appropriate amount of gravitas in his expression.
“I’m not kidding at all, Major.” His voice dropped half an octave. “And I’m not so drunk anymore, either.” Fingers danced through Kaidan’s hair, Shepard thrilling to the realization that he was really allowed to touch the other man this way.
Kaidan caught his hand, pressed his lips to the inside of Shepard’s wrist, licking over his pulse point, and undoubtedly feeling it accelerate in response to his attention. He looked at Shepard from beneath dark eyelashes, pupils dilated and voice growling.
“Take me to bed, John.”
The Commander, in true Alliance fashion, did exactly as he was told.
And later, as Kaidan writhed and flared in a burst of uncontrolled biotics underneath him, Shepard whispered the words he’d wanted to say for three years. Kaidan’s eyes opened, amber ringed with the same deep, clear blue that shimmered over the rest of his body, and Shepard knew, even before Kaidan huskily returned the words; and he also knew, with every cell in his body, with more clarity than he knew most anything else in these uncertain days, that he would be completely, irrevocably tangled up in this beautiful man for as long as he lived. And maybe longer.