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He doesn’t even get his pants off before the soothing, constant rhythm of the warm water draws him in. He bows his head under the spray, button and fly undone on his trousers so they hang low on his hips. His shirt is discarded on the floor next to his boots.
He manages to hold his composure for the duration of a slow count to ten – though he’s not sure who he’s holding it for, being that he’s alone in the showers, well into the night cycle.
When his composure breaks, it breaks hard. Rough harsh sobs wrack his body and make breathing a struggle. There are no tears, the only wetness on his face from the saltless shower water, but his shoulders shake and he wishes for the release of crying. The way he used to, into his pillow, locked in his room for hours while his mother worried and his father tried not-hard-enough to console her about the fact that her seventeen-year-old son was a murderer.
He shudders, full-body, as he remembers the crack of bone that he could feel – as much as, if not more than, he could hear it – under the power of his leg when he kicked Vyrnnus. And he replays the snap of Udina’s neck just hours ago.
Vyrnnus had hurt the girl he’d loved.
Udina had trained a gun between the eyes of the man he loves. Loves, present tense. He reacted on instinct, and he hates what it says about himself that his instinct is to kill.
He is so caught up in self-flagellation, rewinding his memories to watch the light of awareness leave Udina’s eyes over and over, that he does not hear Shepard enter behind him.
* * *
Shepard stands in Starboard Observation, frustrated. He has made a full circle, searching for Kaidan here first and, not finding him, circling the entire ship, even places he knows the man wouldn’t be, before ending up back here. Giving up, he stares out the huge window to nothingness.
“EDI? Where is Major Alenko?”
“Major Alenko is currently in the showers, Shepard.” She pauses for a fraction of a second longer than usual. Shepard notices. “The water has been running in his stall for seventeen minutes.”
Seventeen minutes for an Alliance soldier is a long time. Longer than just getting clean.
Shepard about-faces instantly and marches to the showers. Sure enough, only one stall is occupied. When Shepard sees the state of his – superior officer? crewmate? friend? – he doesn’t even hesitate, forgets that he’s fully clothed, just walks into the torrent of water and wraps his arms around Kaidan’s waist from behind.
It seems natural, somehow.
Kaidan jerks, spins, eyes wide and biotics flaring up in a sudden burst until he sees who is behind him. Then it seems like something pushes him even deeper into his pit, because he lets out a despairing noise simultaneous with extinguishing his biotics. He tries to turn away, but Shepard holds him.
“Shepard –”
“You saved my life.”
“I killed him, Shepard.”
“You saved my life, Kaidan.”
“In cold blood. I didn’t even think, it wasn’t even a question, I just killed him on instinct. That’s me. That’s who I am, I’m a murderer.”
Shepard places a hand at the back of Kaidan’s neck to hold him in place, and rests their foreheads together. “You did what you had to.”
“Did I?” He tries to pull away, but Shepard doesn’t let him. “I could have just incapacitated him. Taken him out of the game. Instead I…”
He looks away, lost in his thoughts again. “…it just snapped… so easily.”
Shepard knows, then.
“It’s not the same.”
Kaidan blinks and refocuses. “What?”
“Udina and Vyrnnus.”
He flinches at hearing the name out loud, but recovers, even if he won’t meet Shepard’s eyes. “He would have killed you.” His voice is pleading.
“I know. You stopped him, Kaidan. You protected me.”
Kaidan remembers, then, allowing himself to fast-forward past Udina’s death, to the moment that Shepard’s hand landed on his shoulder and pulled him out of his darkness – and then the next moment, when Kaidan should have turned to look Shepard in the eye, and instead remained, staring at the lifeless corpse on the floor. But he didn’t shake off the lifeline of Shepard’s touch, and he grants himself that small positive.
He turns to face Shepard now. Blue eyes, concerned crease between his eyebrows. And it hits him that it isn’t the same, not at all, because Shepard is here. He didn’t turn away. There is no fear or revulsion in his eyes. He is standing here, clothes soaked through, telling Kaidan that he did the right thing.
And, because it feels natural, somehow, again, Shepard leans forward. His nose brushes Kaidan’s, and then his lips brush Kaidan’s, and then Kaidan makes an incredulous, needy sound in the back of his throat and pulls him closer. He turns the kiss rough and insistent.
Teeth nip at Shepard’s lips and he can’t help a moan as he feels the heat of Kaidan’s bare skin through his own drenched shirt – although Kaidan is now doing his best to remove that nuisance, fingers working the buttons and clasps until he can yank the material over Shepard’s head and toss it carelessly to the floor.
Shepard’s head hits the shower wall and he groans. Kaidan has him pinned by the hips, and their mutual arousal is impossible to miss. This has been such a long time coming.
Kaidan’s hands are at Shepard’s belt, undoing the buckle and tugging open the fly and Shepard groans into Kaidan’s mouth when he feels the biotic grip his cock. He hastily returns the favor, shoving Kaidan’s trousers down over his hips and palming the full twin mounds of Kaidan’s ass. Kaidan rolls his hips into Shepard and pants, breathless, disbelieving, into his open mouth.
He takes Shepard and himself in his hand and strokes them both, and the men let out simultaneous gasps of harsh pleasure. The way Shepard’s moaning and the almost-pained expression on his face – Kaidan knows those emotions, the tightness in his chest telling him that he looks the same way. That revelation makes it worse and better; they’ve both felt this way for so long, it’s mutual, it always has been, but they could have had this for so long, and now who knows how much longer they’ll have.
Kaidan tries to push those thoughts away, and instead focuses on the way they’re breathing in sync, the way Shepard’s hands can’t stop exploring his body. They slide up over his chest, pinch at his nipples, scrape through the wet hair at the base of his neck, hold the sides of his face as their tongues explore each other’s mouths, and then trace his spine back down, always returning to squeeze and knead at his ass.
He needs this, so badly.
His pace increases, fisting them both, and he is so hard, fuck, so desperate for Shepard. He buries his face in Shepard’s shoulder and worships the skin there, tongue, teeth, lips, in that order. He licks away the droplets of water dotting Shepard’s neck.
A whine tears from Shepard’s throat and his hips arch away from the wall, pushing himself harder into Kaidan’s hand.
It’s about all Kaidan can take. He thrusts jerkily against Shepard a few more times and then, gasping helplessly, feels his cock spurt over both their stomachs.
Shepard moans again and it seems like he’s trying to figure out the best places for his hands, the best way to keep Kaidan as close as possible as his own hips rock faster. When he comes, he muffles the sound of his cry in Kaidan’s hair, and it makes Kaidan shiver.
They pull apart and their eyes meet.
Kaidan wants to say, I love you.
Instead, he says, “I missed you so much, Shepard.”
Shepard traces his cheek gently. “I know. …and, me too. I’m glad you’re back, Kaidan.”
They kiss as the water, now soothingly cold on their overheated bodies, washes them clean.