Archive of Our Own

Quick Note: Made an edit when I realized I had been spelling Nihlus' last name wrong. Sorry for that guys.

“Can’t Resist”

Saren’s protégé had an unusual fear.

It wasn’t a fear that came up often and when it did, it wasn’t something they couldn’t work around. Most times anyway. But every once in a while, when it was absolutely necessary, Nihlus had to face his fear head-on.

And Saren usually had no problem forcing his will on the younger turian. Especially when he was doing it for good reasons or when he had Nihlus’ best interests in mind. But his student’s aversion on the matter was really beginning to get on his nerves in a most unpleasant way. He could feel a headache forming just beneath his biotic port and spreading to the area behind his mandibles with a painful throb.

Nihlus was scared of being sedated. No, that wasn’t a strong enough term for his level of fear. He was terrified, absolutely horrified and sometimes even physically ill at the thought of be tranquillized to the point of unconsciousness. To the point of helplessness.

“Don’t, please. Just…no, no.” Nihlus had repeated the mantra several times now, each time it sounded a little more desperate as the pain set in.

“It has to be done.” Saren told him again exasperated as he readied the hypo-syringe.

 “Saren, no. Please don’t put me to sleep I’ll do anything you want.” He pushed at the hand that held the syringe feebly, barely moving his superior’s arm.

Like any good turian Nihlus was wary of being defenseless. However, this begging was beneath him and downright pathetic. Saren could understand not wanting to appear weak but this phobia of Nihlus’ was unreasonable.

He pushed that hand back onto the bed and held it down carefully at the wrist, cautious of hurting him further. That was the entire reason he wanted to sedate Nihlus in the first place. To prevent unnecessary harm. The younger turian’s armor had been shattered at the chest when an Eclipse merc had charged him. She had slammed him into a wall and punched him with a bioticly enhanced fist at the same time she’d knocked away his weapon. Nihlus was an excellent soldier and even better pupil, but there was only so much one could do against an asari vanguard without biotics of their own.

Of course, Saren had easily executed her while her attention was restricted to his protégé. But the damage had been done. Spectre-grade armor had been ruined beyond repair and at first glance, Nihlus’ shoulder had obviously been dislocated. He’d been bent over, supporting his weight with his forearm on his knees and spitting blood while he dry heaved.

“What I want Nihlus, is for you to be absolutely still while I do this.”

“Just give me something for the pain. Saren please don’t put me out.” His undertones wavered with panic as he tugged on his pinned wrist, unable to do any more than that.

Saren pressed the hypo against the arch of his student’s throat and pushed the stopper down without preamble. It would be less than five minutes before Nihlus lost consciousness. He whimpered, those bright green eyes appearing suddenly wet but turians couldn’t cry like some species. The look of wetness was the most that happened.

 “What are you so afraid of Nihlus?” Saren asked as he began to methodically release the clasps and pressure seals of his chestpiece.

“What if I don’t wake up?” Nihlus murmured as the ceramic plating came off in pieces.

“Of course you’ll wake up.” He eased away the guard of Nihlus’ dislocated shoulder and then the other one too.

His student’s breathing began to grow steady and regular, his head lolled to one side. “What if I wake up surrounded by slavers?”

He carefully peeled down the zipper of his undersuit. “That’s ridiculous Nihlus, a child’s fear.”

“Still scared,” He was breathing deeply and evenly now, his eyes slowly drifting closed. “Saren?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t leave until I wake up, please.” He was asleep seconds after that. Before Saren could answer anyway.

+_-_-_-_-_+

“What is the extent of your apprentice’s injuries?” The turian councilor, Sparatus, demanded a few hours later.

Saren stood at his full height and perfectly straight with his hands behind his back respectfully before the holo-conference. “Several cracked dorsal plates, three broken ribs and a formerly dislocated shoulder.” He summarized.

“And his…reluctance to be anesthetized?”

“Still present Councilor.”

The councilor hummed thoughtfully. “Not that unusual in a noncolony turian from the Terminus systems. It’s a common tactic for slavers. Given your student’s history it’s actually quite expected. Find a way to work around it if you can.”

“Yes sir.”

“I expect to see you as soon as you dock at the Citadel.”

Saren ground his teeth together but kept his outward expression impassive and unmoved. “Yes sir.”

+_-_-_-_-_+

Nihlus woke by inches.

Awareness came before sensation, sight and sound before touch. His vision was blurred and he could easily hear the steady thrum of the engines a deck beneath him. After that he became aware that he was lying on his back in his bed, his head and fringe cushioned on a soft pillow. His arms were crossed loosely over his stomach and the thick protective wrapping on his chest.

The residual pain came after that, his shoulder was sore and fucking spirits did his chest ache. And his mouth was so damn dry that his tongue was stuck to the roof of it.

As his vision cleared, it became obvious that he was also completely alone. Saren hadn’t stayed with him. His teacher was aloof at the best of times and utterly hostile at the worst but Nihlus had thought, after almost a year of being his student, that Saren had warmed up to him at least a little.  

But evidently not if he couldn’t even hang around for a few hours.

The intercom in the upper corner of his room buzzed with static. “Nihlus.”

“I’m up,” He called, suddenly annoyed. Saren had clearly been monitoring his vitals to know he was awake. The anger was white-hot in his stomach. “Am I really such a burden to you Saren? You couldn’t even wait to make sure the drugs you gave me didn’t kill me? You’ll watch me through the cameras but you won’t sit next to me for a little while? You’re such a varren dick.”

“We’ll be docking at the Citadel in six hours.” Saren intoned with disinterest. “I have a meeting with the councilor; you have shore leave until tomorrow. You should make the most of your time.”

The intercom clicked off and the room dropped into a deafening silence. Nihlus turned carefully on his side and buried his face into his pillow, trilling sadly. Saren was his only friend. Actually he was the only real friend Nihlus had ever made. The bond was unspoken, unacknowledged, but it was still there. Spirits, he should never have lashed out like that.

He had probably just fucked up any chance of being more than a friend to the older turian. He’d been trying little things for the past few months, small smiles and letting his hand linger on Saren’s when he handed over a thermal clip. He’d also tried larger things like allowing his subharmonics to broadcast his emotions and resting his weight against Saren when they were crouched in cover. But so far nothing, no sign of interest from his mentor.

It was a slow and agonizing process when all he wanted to do was pin his mentor to any flat surface and drag his tongue over those gorgeous valluvian horns. Among other places; a lot of other places.

Saren had never accepted his advances and Nihlus didn’t know if he was mated or if he already had a regular lover. Or even a string of lovers. Although he did spend a lot of time with the turian councilor, but no, that was just Spectre business.

+_-_-_-_-_+

Ten hours later, Sparatus left Saren on the floor once he’d had his fill. He was bleeding from gaping wounds on his hips and upper thighs where the councilor’s talons had ripped him open in the throes of passion. A packet of medigel was tossed down next to his face and he rolled into a sitting position to apply it. He hissed at the sting, waiting for the lacerations to close before moving to his feet. Saren left his clothing in a heap on the ground and went to the bathroom. He couldn’t exactly take a shower, there wasn’t one, but he could clean himself up using water from the sink. He didn’t like his superior’s scent on him, or his essence in him for that matter, any longer than was strictly required.

Saren hated this. Every minute of it, he hated every second of submitting to the councilor. He hated every time he gave up his control for just a little pleasure, a little bit of release merely to calm his nerves. But at the same time…he couldn’t stop. He needed it, needed the release that came from letting go completely.

And Sparatus was the only one that could give him that. He thought, maybe Nihlus could, but that wasn’t a door he was willing to open. Not yet and maybe not ever. His student meant too much to him to be used like that. Saren didn’t care about the councilor that way. It was duty, loyalty, and simple sexual attraction that kept him coming back for more. There were no deeper emotions between them.

He wasn’t sure he could keep that kind of distance with his protégé.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed the younger turian’s attention to him. All those seemingly inconspicuous touches and the way his bright green eyes looked at him like he was slowly undressing him. The scent of his arousal when they were pressed together in cover. No, Saren knew exactly how Nihlus felt about him. And how he felt about his student.

This thing with Sparatus was safer. At least for his sanity.

+_-_-_-_-_+

This shore leave sucks. And Chora’s Den is a shit hole.  Nihlus thought and then wondered why he was even there in the first place.

He couldn’t drink, not with all the pain medication in his system and he couldn’t get laid because of his broken ribs. He’d thought idly about making an appointment to see the Consort, but chances were he wouldn’t be on the Citadel again for some time. Being Saren’s apprentice took him…everywhere. In the last month he’d been to a dozen places he’d never even heard of. Hell, this was the first shore leave he’d had and it was shit. Total shit.

Perhaps just one drink wouldn’t be a bad idea.

He eyed the bar and found his mentor already sitting there, talons wrapped around his glass like a lifeline. A powder blue asari was at his side, leaning against the bartop. Her skimpy barely-there stripper outfit over exaggerating her curves, not that they weren’t ample to begin with, but have a little class.

Saren was obviously disinterested and hardly even looking at her. He was completely focused on throwing back whatever was in that glass. When the asari lifted a hand like she was going to touch his mandible or maybe his fringe, Nihlus got to his feet. He settled on the stool next to the other turian and tossed his arm mock-possessively across his shoulders.

Saren went stiff and straight as a wall but the asari got the hint and disappeared back into the crowd.

“Nihlus,” Saren said neutrally.

“Saren,” He said back with equal inflection.

“Take your hand off me.”

Nihlus did, crossing both of them on the bartop. He signaled the bartender for a drink and settled in to wait. This close to Saren he could feel the man’s heat and sense that subtle force of biotics. He could also smell him. The fiery smell of scorched eezo and the more substantial aroma of a turian male in his prime. Under the smell of soap, he got a whiff of something that made his stomach so tight it was unbearable.

Nihlus heard the words come out of his mouth a solid minute before his brain caught up with just how stupid he was being. “Have fun getting fucked tonight?”

Saren’s mandibles snapped against his jaw with a crack. “It’s none of your concern Nihlus.”

His mentor’s subtones told him clearly to ‘shut the fuck up and mind his own fucking business.’ But Nihlus pressed onward, turning on his stool to catch Saren’s silver hued stare.

“I…” Spirits, he should just shut up before Saren decided to shoot him or something worse. “I just…damn it all Saren. You smell like sex and blood. Are you all right?”

Saren pointedly didn’t look at him, still focused on that damn glass even though it was empty.

“It’s none of your concern.” He repeated, stood in one graceful motion and left.

Nihlus stared after him, mandibles hanging loose in contrition. The bartender finally placed a glass in front of him. One drink was not going to cut it. Maybe two…or ten.

+_-_-_-_-_+                             

It turned out that one drink was all he could swallow down before a headache started to slam around in his skull like a wrecking ball. That was fine; he had things to do anyway. So he left Chora’s Den and headed toward the Presidium and Citadel Tower.

He’d filled out the report of his and Saren’s mission in the hours before they’d docked. It was encrypted on a data-disk in his pocket but a healthy sense of paranoia compelled him to deliver it to the council in person rather than send it across the extranet. He’d already sent out a message asking for permission to enter the council’s chamber, it wasn’t exactly wise to show up uninvited. It was also a pain in the ass to arrive at an empty room.

It was just his type of luck that the turian councilor answered his missive and told him to come to his office and to make it quick. They didn’t exactly get along amicably. Nihlus had a tendency to question things and he absolutely did not follow bad orders. The kind of orders that got civilians senselessly killed or resulted in leaving comrades behind. He was also a little impulsive and didn’t give his respect to someone just because they held a higher rank. Traditional turians like the councilor (and Saren for that matter) wanted his respect simply handed over while Nihlus needed for them to earn it or it didn’t mean anything in the long run.

So yeah, they did not deal well with each other. But he was just going to drop off his report, answer any questions the councilor might have and then leave. At least, that had been his plan until the door opened and he entered the turian’s office.

The heady tang of sex in the air was faint but it still hit him like a punch to the mandible. He didn’t just smell sex and blood, he smelled Saren. The scent of his mentor, that burnt eezo and gun-oil smell was so thick, so familiar and it was literally all over the Councilor. For months all he’d wanted to do was bury his face against pale grey hide and just breathe in.

Spirits, did they fuck right here? In the councilor’s office? On the damn floor like lust-crazed teens?

It was overpowering, maddening, and the spirits damn him it was arousing too. The councilor was just staring at him with this look in his eyes. This look like he knew exactly what Nihlus was thinking and feeling. His mandibles titled in a smug grin as he blinked slowly.

Anger and jealousy burned hot in his veins and Nihlus held his breath. It was too much and he had to leave before he did something insanely stupid. Like rip the councilor’s throat out with his teeth. He took the data-disk out of his pocket and slid it over the desk. Then he turned sharply on his heel and left without a word.

Nihlus wasn’t sure which of them was more fortunate, himself or the councilor, when the older turian just let him go. Because he wasn’t sure what he would have done had the councilor spoken to him, what he would have said. He really didn’t want to start any diplomatic incidents.

Fuck this headache, I need another drink.

+_-_-_-_-_+

Sparatus plugged the data-disk into his terminal and downloaded the files. The data transfer would take time; if there was one good thing about Nihlus Kryik, it was that he was thorough. Of course, there were other good things about Kryik. He was competent enough on the battlefield, skilled in most technologies, could hack nearly any system into nonexistence and according to Saren, he was also a pretty sufficient mechanic.

Interpersonally though, Kryik was indignant and opinionated. He tended to argue with superiors and question direct orders. His files didn’t list any close family or friends, and his only emergency contact was Saren. The two had met just over a year ago when Saren had found the young turian alone on a transport ship surrounded by corpses and spent thermal clips. Kryik had been without food, water or sleep for days and in a rare showing of compassion, Saren had rescued him and brought him to the Citadel to recover. While the youth was healing in Huerta Memorial, Saren told Sparatus that he wanted to train him to be a Spectre.

He’d allowed it, Spectre’s could only choose their mentees once and Saren had never before shown an inclination to do so. Of course, if he’d realized at the time just how close Kryik and Saren would become, maybe he would have passed the youth onto someone else.

Saren had always been reserved in his manner. As a Spectre he was ruthless and unsympathetic, determined to complete his missions at any cost and damn whatever consequences came from his actions. Sparatus knew he hadn’t been that way before Desolas’ death at the end of the Relay 314 Incident, what humans called the First Contact War. His brother had been his only surviving family, they had lost their parents young and Desolas had raised Saren. He’d even put his named forward for Spectre training. And then he’d died and the pale plated turian had changed drastically since then. He took few to no prisoners and held no remorse for those he did have to kill. On any battlefield his disposition was acrid and dispassionate, almost completely detached and just plain cold.

As a man though, Saren was utterly different. He was soft spoken and unfailingly polite. As a lover he was sensual, attentive to Sparatus’ reactions, astonishingly gentle and even a little tame. They had been so drawn to each other at the beginning. That first time they’d fallen into bed together he’d been surprised by Saren’s change in temperament and his willingness to submit. The Spectre had quickly become his favorite lover, though not his only one. Sometimes Sparatus wondered if he was the only lover Saren had known, his responses were so genuine and almost heartfelt in their intensity. He doubted it however, Saren was skilled in a lot of ways but as a lover he was truly extraordinary.

Of course his feelings were nothing greater than sexual attraction and he wasn’t in love with the Spectre. He couldn’t be for various reasons. Most of them political and a few of them personal. He was the councilor; the highest representative of their species other than the Primarch while Saren was barefaced and held no loyalty to anyone but himself. If it weren’t for that, Sparatus thought he could have grown to love the younger turian over time.

But then Saren had found Kryik and things had changed yet again. That persona that had only ever been on the frontlines entered their private life. Sex that had only ever been about giving each other as much pleasure as possible abruptly became about dominance and power. Their time together lost its easy playfulness and turned into a more serious game of who had more self-control, more willpower and who was forced to surrender first. Saren had become noticeably resentful and he was almost constantly agitated.

 He had quietly murmured Kryik’s name enough times when they’d been intimate for Sparatus to know exactly where the problem lay. That was why, when Kryik requested entry to Citadel Tower, he hadn’t turned on the ventilation system. He’d purposely let the scent of his and Saren’s passions linger in the room, just to see the look on Kryik’s face when he smelled his mentor. He’d wanted to see if the youth felt the same.

Sparatus’ terminal finally signaled the transfer of files and he sat behind his desk with a self-satisfied smile.

+_-_-_-_-_+

He couldn’t take this anymore.

He didn’t care that they were effectively in the middle of a firefight. Bullets impacting the ground around them and grenades detonating just beyond their cover. Saren crouched beside him, radiating determination and power. His biotics sizzling over his skin and hardsuit. He was so feral, so damn sexy and Nihlus was fully open and hard inside his armor. His mentor turned him on in ways he just couldn’t understand and he’d had enough of this waiting.

He grabbed Saren by both shoulders and pushed him prone, climbing immediately over him to straddle his legs. Biotics flared blue and then enveloped them both in a protective barrier.

“Nihlus what are you-“

He shoved his face against the Spectre’s, pushing his jaw up and laying his mouth over the arch of his throat. One hand gripped his hip hard while the other moved up between his thighs and started roughly jerking open pressure seals and tearing at the buckles connecting the codpiece to the rest of the armor.

“I can’t wait anymore.” He grasped at Saren’s groin, found an answering erection. “I need you. Now.”

Saren bucked into his hand, hissing in pleasure. “Nihlus!”

+_-_-_-_-_+

Nihlus woke up panting for breath with his groin plates spread wide, his erection pulsing with need and so hard that it actually hurt. He groaned, wrapping a hand around himself for a little relief, the flesh slick and overheated. The dream flashed through his mind. The feeling of Saren in his hand…the look of pure want in his eyes. He tightened his hand on his length, visualizing that it was his mentor’s hand instead of his own.

Oh, this was so wrong. So wrong on so many levels. Saren was his teacher, his friend …and he was sleeping with Councilor Sparatus. That anger roiled in his stomach again, so hot it almost burned away the heat of arousal. But his hand had tightened again on reflex and that different heat swept through him like a tidal wave. He groaned again, pumping his fist once to get back in the mood.

This was so wrong and he needed to stop. He needed to stop this obsession with his mentor like right now.

And then Sparatus’ smug face flashed through his mind too, wiping away the last lingering dregs of his dream. He shook his head, pushing the image to the very back of his thoughts and instead pulled forward the memory of Saren’s scent blanketing the Councilor’s office.

Nihlus had always wondered just what Saren would smell like and now he knew. He adjusted his grip, slid his other hand down over his chest and waist to keep his groin plates spread. His fingers slid a little in the wetness of his own lubricant and he had to try again before he finally got them in the position he wanted, being mindful of his talons along the edges.

Spirits, right there.

For all he knew, there was every chance Saren was still monitoring his vitals through the ship’s sensors. He would be aware of every hitch in Nihlus’ breathing and the rapid acceleration of his heartbeat. That was almost hotter than imagining Saren’s hands in place of his own, than picturing the Spectre poised over him and-

Nihlus moaned, turning onto his side and pushing his face into the pillow to muffle his subtones. He moved his hand faster, half hoping that Saren was watching him, and that if he was, he liked what he saw. The revelation that followed was that he wanted Saren to watch him and to hear him. Nihlus turned back over, bending his knees and letting his legs fall open. He sped up his movements, chasing that mystifying high that came with physical release. Up the shaft to twist around the head and then down to meet his other hand, squeezing and then back up. Once, twice and then again and again. Until he finally came gasping his mentor’s name, his seed spilling over his hand and falling onto his belly.

He used the edge of his shirt to clean up the mess, tossing the thing to the floor when he was done. His tension bled away and he let his limbs relax back onto the bed, curling in on himself as the guilt hit. Now that lust wasn’t riding his veins and distorting his mind, he begged every spirit he knew of that Saren was completely oblivious.

This had to stop and soon, before it destroyed him.

+_-_-_-_-_+

It had been a week from that night in Chora’s Den when Saren’s student found him at the bar. Since he’d watched Nihlus touching himself over the terminal, listened to the sounds of his desire and heard his name whispered at the end. When he’d had the desperate urge to go to his protégé’s room, shove his hand away and replace it with his own. But he’d sat back on his bed, hand between his own thighs and cupped his groin gently. He hadn’t encouraged his erection so much as just enjoyed the pressure.

And in the meantime Nihlus hadn’t spoken more than a dozen words for any reason unrelated to his training. In that week the younger turian hadn’t looked at him with the usual longing in his bright green eyes. In fact, his student had barely looked at him at all and when he did it was with an expression Saren couldn’t put a name to.

His student had ceased to be his usual chatty self and was instead forlorn and quiet. For his part, Saren did his best to ignore the abrupt change in personality but he knew it had to be addressed. So, sitting side by side in the cockpit of Saren’s ship and on their way to another mission on the edge of the Attican Traverse, just outside the Terminus, he did just that.

“Is there something on your mind Nihlus.” It was phrased as a question but the tone of his subvocals made it a statement that demanded an answer.

“No sir.” And that was the giveaway; his protégé hadn’t called him ‘sir’ since his second month of training.

He sneered at the younger turian. “As you’re so fond of saying: varren-shit.”

His student would not make eye contact but he sighed in defeat. “It’s none of my business what you do on your shore leave and I apologize for the way I spoke to you. I guess…I forgot you’re a man with baser needs like me and not just a Spectre. It surprised me and I acted irrationally.”

Saren inclined his head. “It’s forgiven and forgotten.”

“Thank you sir.”

He snarled in a way that made his student jump in his seat. “And stop calling me ‘sir’. I can hear the antagonism in your tone and it’s unbecoming of a Spectre trainee.”

His student trilled an apology and then went back to ignoring him.

+_-_-_-_-_+

What could he say? That he knew Councilor Sparatus was fucking him? On the whole, turians didn’t care about a person’s private life as long as they kept their shit together and did their job. And as long as Saren completed his duty as a Spectre to the best of his ability, it shouldn’t matter what he did with his free time. So why did it bother him so much? Why did it hurt?

It bothers you because it’s Saren…Nihlus thought. And you wish it was you getting fucked by him.

Truer words had never been thought. Every time he pictured the councilor’s hands touching Saren or his tongue tasting him, Nihlus’ vision would haze around the edges. But again, what could he say?

He glanced over at his mentor, took in his profile and held back the sigh of longing. The pale grey of his plates and the flesh in between, his long and tapered fringe and the slope of those valluvian horns just above his mandibles. He was built a little thicker than the average turian but Saren really was attractive in his own way.

Nihlus wanted him like he’d never wanted anyone before. He wasn’t quite sure when he’d started lusting after the Spectre. If the desire had begun when they’d first met and Saren had saved his life or if it came around later once Nihlus had gotten to know him.

There was a reason he was the most highly decorated Spectre in history. He had a brilliant mind and his tactics in battle were simply legendary. There was nothing Saren wouldn’t do for the galactic community and few lines that he wasn’t willing to cross to get results. He was ruthless and cold and brutal. He didn’t go out of his way to save lives unless he was ordered to do so by the Council. That he had bothered to rescue Nihlus in the first place was nothing short of a phenomenon.

He owed Saren everything that he was and everything he would become. He would bleed for the man if asked and he had before, many times actually. He’d killed for Saren too and he had held down the worst criminals Council space had to offer while his mentor tortured them.

The Spectre needed only to ask something of Nihlus and he’d do it, no questions asked. But it wasn’t his loyalty to the Council or obligation as Saren’s trainee that made him comply time after time. It was devotion.

So even though he wanted to say something and as much as he wanted to know why the Councilor and why not him…Nihlus kept his mouth firmly shut. Because bottom line, Saren’s personal life was none of his business.

+_-_-_-_-_+

They were on opposite ends of the warehouse and chest deep in chaos. He could hear Saren breathing over the comm in his helmet, smooth inhales and exhales that were relaxing despite the pandemonium surrounding him. Bullets collided with his cover and he waited for a lull in the action before popping up and spraying the corridor with fire. He dropped back into a crouch when he heard a pained yelp.

That was one down at least. At least five more and he didn’t know how many enemies Saren was facing. Their scanners had showed no less than thirty before they’d entered and Nihlus had already dispatched of…six, maybe seven.

Saren cursed lowly over the comm.

“What’s doing?” Nihlus asked as he crept carefully forward, taking out another merc with a well-placed bullet before he’d been spotted.

“Sniper.” Was his one-word answer but his breathing wasn’t steady anymore.

“Were you hit?” He crouched low with his back to a wall and peeked around the corner to find his path clear.

“Affirmative.”

That explained his rapid breathing and the slight hitch in his subtones. “How badly are you hurt?”

“My helmet’s destroyed.” The Spectre muttered dryly.

Nihlus felt the air leave his chest in a rush. His helmet? Spirits, he’d almost been killed. He knew Saren had top of the line shielding and that his biotic barrier was fairly decent but to have him come so close to a serious, if not life-threatening injury…

“I’m coming to you.” Damn his mouth was dry. “Send me your nav point.”

“You have a job to do Kryik.”

“Fuck that,” He ran down the corridor unopposed but he kept his heavy-pistol at the ready just in case. “I’m on my way, just hold tight.”

+_-_-_-_-_+

The pain radiated intensely from the back of Saren’s neck up into his head and down his shoulders to settle firmly in his spine. He was lucky the sniper had been using Phasic rounds; otherwise it wouldn’t have just been his kinetic barrier that was taken out. As it was, the charged particle slug had shredded the clasp of his helmet and skimmed hotly across the back of his neck before embedding in the wall to his right. He’d turned, tossed out an overly potent warp combined with a slam, shot and killed the sniper before the depth of his injury had registered.

He stumbled into cover as a blinding headache took hold of his senses and shook him like a child’s toy. He jerked off his helmet, probed the back of his neck and found hot, sticky blood. He passed his fingers carefully over the biotic implant at the base of his skull and explored the edges of the amp slot gently.

The taste of bile at the back of Saren’s throat was sudden and overpowering. He turned and vomited over the railing, coughing and hacking until it felt like he’d spat out everything he’d ever eaten. That headache pounded behind his eyes and he leaned his forehead into his palm for a moment before sucking in a deep breath.

“I’m almost there.” His protégé’s voice was soothing over the mic in his ear and it helped him garner his focus.

At least until he tasted that distinctive sourness again.

+_-_-_-_-_+

Nihlus found Saren leaning over a railing spanning the length a catwalk. He was spitting and drawing in big lungful’s of air, holding his head in one hand while the other was clasped loosely around the butt of his assault rifle. He skidded to a stop as that gun was raised and pointed at the general area of his chest.

“It’s me,” He said, sliding his heavy-pistol into the slot on his thigh and holding his hands out, palms up to show they were now empty.

Saren lowered the rifle at the same time he turned back to the railing and retched like he was trying to expel his intestines. Nihlus took a cautious step forward as his mentor finished heaving.

“Spirits Saren,” He said. “You sound awful.”

He looked awful too, his face covered in a sheen of sweat and blue blood dripping down the back of his neck to stain his hardsuit. He took another step closer as Saren pulled away from the railing, wiping his mouth on his wrist.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re obviously not; I’ve never seen you like this. Let’s get you out of here and back to the Citadel.”

“We have a mission to complete.” Saren snarled.

Nihlus patted a compartment on his own hardsuit. “It’s done, I’ve got everything the Council needs right here.”

He nodded, holstering the rifle on his back. “Good.”

“Come on then, let’s go.”

Saren turned toward him, released his grip on the railing and promptly stumbled. Nihlus darted in and caught him around the chest to keep him from slamming onto the ground. The Spectre gripped his forearm tightly and pushed back to his feet unsteadily.

“Saren-“

“I’m fine.”

“Your implant is sparking.” Nihlus argued as they were both suddenly bathed in blue light. “And I’m pretty sure you didn’t mean to throw a barrier around us just now.”

Saren gave a low curse as his biotics faded away slowly. “The slug grazed my amp.”

“I’d say it did.” He commented, undertones sarcastic. “How bad is it damaged?”

“At the very least I’ll need to take the amp out, at worst…my implant will need to be removed and replaced.”

“Okay, so we’ll head to the Citadel and-“

Hand on the back of his neck, Saren swore again.

“What?”

“It’s stuck,” He said, meaning his amp. “The edges are melted, I can’t remove it myself.”

+_-_-_-_-_+

“I’m not doing that.” Nihlus said for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Nihlus,”

“No! No way.”

His mentor was sitting on the edge of his cot (he thought it funny his mentor only had a cot while he had a real bed in his quarters) with his head forward and the back of his neck exposed and covered in dried blood. The area around his implant had finally stopped bleeding as they’d boarded their ship. Saren had already set a course back to the Citadel and then stripped out of the top half of his armor before asking for Nihlus’ assistance in his room.

Then he’d dropped the bombshell and asked Nihlus to physically remove his bio amp from its slot. He’d voiced his protests vehemently but Saren wouldn’t budge on the issue.

“It needs to be done.” Saren told him.

“Look, I’m not going to do it. We’ll be at the Citadel in a few hours and you can get it done correctly and professionally.”

His mentor titled his head in the negative. “I’m afraid it can’t wait that long.” He said. “I’m only asking you to remove the amp, not the port. It’s perfectly safe and I would do it myself if I could but-“

“But the thing is fused to the back of your neck!” Nihlus yelled. “I could tear out your spine for spirits’ sake!”

Saren growled a subharmonic tone of irritation. “Just rip it out.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back on one foot. There was too much at risk here, though he doubted he could literally rip out his mentor’s spine. There was every possibility that he could do irreversible damage to his nervous system.

“I don’t follow shitty orders Saren.”

“I’m not ordering you Nihlus,” His mentor said quietly. “I’m asking you to…help me.”

Spirits. That was all he had to say wasn’t it? That he was asking for help and not demanding it. Nihlus found himself moving forward into Saren’s space, only stopping when he stood between the Spectre’s feet.

“Fine,” He muttered dejectedly. “Okay...I guess you should breathe slowly and evenly. Just tell me if it’s too much and I’ll stop. Are you sure…shouldn’t I sedate you or give you something for pain or-“

“Just do it Nihlus.”

He reached out to take his mentor’s head between his hands, angling him a little more so that he could get a clear view of what he was about to do. Saren’s bio amp was a small metal nodule plugged into a socket-like port at the base of his cranium, the edges of which were melted outward over the port itself and onto the flesh.

Nihlus swallowed the lump of trepidation in his throat and wrapped the fingers of one hand around the thing. Saren’s arms rested across his knees, hands clenched into tight fists and he could feel his teacher breathing deeply through the rise and fall of his shoulders. 

Nihlus took his own deep breath, held it for a three-count and exhaled as he pulled Saren’s head firmly against his stomach. Any other circumstance and their position would actually strike him as kind of hot, but now wasn’t the time. Another deep breath and a count-to-three had his own nerves steady enough to continue.

“Okay, here we go, just lean against me.” His grip secure, he started to pull on the amp.

Fresh blood welled around the slot as the amp tore at the skin it was fused to. Saren hissed in pain and squeezed down on his knees and then the amp started to give. It came loose with a sickly wet noise and a hiss of air and Saren slumped forward over his knees.

Nihlus palmed the thing, looking at it while his mentor panted. “Alright,” He said with relieved subvocals. “I’ll admit that wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

That was when the Spectre went completely and utterly limp against his front. For a moment, Nihlus thought he’d killed him but the panic hadn’t even set in before Saren arched with a gasp and fell backward onto his cot. He was shaking and shuddering as biotic embers rushed and crackled all over him. He groaned and Nihlus knew it was wrong, the context at least, Saren was in obvious pain, but it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

He knelt on the side of the bed and gathered his mentor into his arms, trying to still his convulsions and cradled the back of his neck gently. “Shh, you’re okay Saren. I’ve got you, shh, shh. I’ve got you.”

Saren’s eyes fluttered open once before closing and staying closed as he passed out. Nihlus made more soothing noises until he’d stopped trembling and was completely still.

+_-_-_-_-_+

Saren’s omnitool shows only one life-sign and it’s at the bow of the ship. According to the freighter’s schematics, the lone survivor is near the bridge just shy of the cockpit. For the last several meters, Saren has found nothing but bodies. Most were batarian or asari wearing armor that marked them as slave traders or mercenaries. He’d found five turian corpses decked out in matte black special-ops armor, all in various areas of the ship and it’s obvious even from his first glance that one hell of a firefight occurred.

He keeps his assault rifle at the ready as he continues forward through winding corridors and past cargo holds. That life-sign is getting steadily weaker and he picks up his pace, stepping into an elevator car and waiting less-than-patiently while it travels slowly upward. 

Saren has barely stepped out of the thing when he registers movement directly to his left. Glancing down, he finds the survivor sitting on the floor with a heavy-pistol aimed at his head. It’s a turian male in the same unadorned black armor as the corpses he’d found earlier. And despite the growing puddle of blood that he’s sitting in, he seems fairly coherent.

“Drop your weapon,” The gun doesn’t waver once but the youth’s voice makes his exhaustion clear. “Who are you?”

Saren suddenly has the oddest thought that he’s looking at a much younger Councilor Sparatus. The youth shares the same dark mahogany colored plates and russet hide, though the councilor is a little darker overall. Even their colony tattoos are eerily similar: while Sparatus' paint cuts firm edges that stop at the rim of his crest, the soldier’s marking are showcased by soft and flowing strokes of white that sweep back over his fringe. The youth’s eyes are a vivid green rather than a shining aqua color. The uncanny likeness is what has Saren lowering his gun rather than just shooting him.

 “I’m a Spectre.” Saren says and kneels next to the young turian.

“Prove it.” His voice still wavers but the words are a snarled challenge.

“My name is Saren.”

“Saren Arterius?” The soldier asks him and his subvocals are transparent with awe.

“Yes.”

The gun in the youth’s grip lowers by inches until it simply falls out of his hands onto his lap. He gives a mirthless laugh that turns into a groan of pain as he presses a hand to a hole in his armor.

“Thank the spirits.” He whispers reverently and tips to the side only to pass out cold.

Saren looks down at the youth and scans him with his omnitool. He’s dehydrated, malnourished and his heartbeat is slowing rapidly. He’s sitting in enough blood for Saren to know he doesn’t have a lot of time left. He decides in an instant that he won’t leave the youth here to die with the rest of his squad.

+_-_-_-_-_+

Saren came to lying on his side surrounded by the steady beeping of medical equipment. He was wonderfully numb from the neck down and his head felt light with what had to be pain medication. The dream, or rather the memory of meeting Nihlus faded away from his mind the more aware he became. Spirits, had it really been a year since that day? It didn’t feel like it, not even a little. It felt more like a few months had passed since he’d requested to train the youth for the Spectres.

Saren still wasn’t sure if he’d saved him from death because of his likeness to Sparatus or if it was because, bleeding out and dying, Nihlus had pointed a gun at him and demanded answers. There was just something about the younger turian; he was intelligent and a damn good infiltrator. He was better with hacking than Saren could ever hope to be and he was astonishing with a heavy-pistol. He was capable of making shots that should have been impossible with a weapon other than a sniper rifle but he somehow managed it time after time.

He’d never met anyone like Nihlus before, someone that was so easy to love. Love? Was that the feeling growing in his chest? He hadn’t felt that way for anyone since Desolas and after what had happened to his brother…Saren didn’t want to feel love for anyone ever again, it hurt too much at the end of things. His brother had been the only friend, the only family he’d had since their parents died. If he was honest with himself, he knew losing Desolas the way he had had almost destroyed him and he wasn’t sure he could survive another heartbreak like that again.

Nihlus wasn’t from Hierarchy space, he’d come from a mercenary colony on the peripheries of the Terminus systems. He had entered the military a year later than usual and had been an outsider from the very beginning. Like most sixteen year olds, of any species really, Nihlus has rebelled in his own way. He followed his instincts. As a result he’d been shunted from unit to unit in his short military career before Saren had found him, passed from one squad to another whenever he disobeyed an order in hope of a better outcome. Saren admired his ability to think independently.

And…he was almost willing to risk that pain for Nihlus.

No, no he wasn’t willing to risk it. It had to be all the medications flooding his veins making him think the way he was. Nihlus was too important, too special for Saren to frivolously climb into a bed with him just to relieve all the sexual tension between them.

“Hey, you’re awake.” His protégé’s voice had his head turning to the side slowly.

 Nihlus was lounging in a chair next to his bed, arms folded over his chest and the look of relief on his face had that feeling in his chest magnifying by a hundredfold. Saren’s own instincts made the decision for him; he was willing to risk anything for the younger turian.

+_-_-_-_-_+

They’d made it to the Citadel in record time, Nihlus had really pushed the FTL drive and he hadn’t known their little ship could go so fast. Councilors Tevos and Sparatus had been waiting for them at the docking port when they’d arrived. One look at Saren’s condition and the asari had pulled some serious strings to get him transported to Huerta Memorial. Sparatus on the other hand, had demanded a recounting of events. Nihlus hadn’t been able to keep his emotions under control when he’d told the councilor it would have to wait until Saren was taken care of. His subvocals had effectively told Sparatus to fuck off and die. The wellbeing of his mentor was his priority and everything else could just wait.

The councilor had tried to see him, or maybe just see Saren, twice since then. But Tevos, the spirits fucking bless her, had made that impossible. Only Nihlus and a few select doctors had been allowed into the private room. Almost two days and one serious bout of brain surgery later, Saren was sleeping peacefully and short his entire biotic port. The thing would be replaced in a week or two after the doctors were certain his mentor had healed properly.

He heard Saren shifting around as he finally woke up after over a day of unconsciousness. The older turian took a single deep breath and let it out before trying to turn onto his back. With that accomplished, he just laid still and stared up at the ceiling.

“Hey,” Nihlus called softly, affectionately “You’re awake.”

Saren looked over at him and spread his mandibles in a half smile. “Nihlus,”

“How are you feeling?” He asked. That smile had been a surprise; Saren never smiled.

“How long have I been unconscious?”

“A little over thirty-two hours since you came back from surgery and about ten hours before that.” Nihlus told him, scooting his chair closer to the bed and leaning his chin on his hands. “You were right; they had to remove your implant completely.”

Saren just nodded like he’d known that had been the only option. “And how long until my implant is replaced?”

“The doctors told me it could be a week or more until you’re healed up and they’re comfortable putting you through another surgery.”

His mentor just nodded again, still wearing that strange half smile.

“You, uh, didn’t answer me.” Nihlus said after a moment. “Do you feel alright? Are you thirsty or hungry? Actually, I don’t think the doctor will let you eat anything yet.”

“Your concern is appreciated but I can assure you I feel much better than I did.”

“Are you sure I can’t at least get you some water?” He pressed.

“I’m fine Nihlus.” Saren said with dismissive subharmonics.

“Oh…okay.” He stood and smoothed down his shirtfront. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay. I’ve got to give my report to Councilor Tevos, I think it’s waited long enough and she’s been really patient. You should thank her when you get the chance; she really greased some palms to get you here.”

“I will.”

“And,” Nihlus hesitated for just a moment; Saren deserved to know. “Look, I know about your thing with Councilor Sparatus…and he’s been trying to see you but I told him to leave you be. But you should probably let him know you’re conscious, I mean, he’s probably worried about you. And I may have…kind of told him to fuck off.”

Saren’s mandibles dropped away from his jaw. “You told a councilor to ‘fuck off?’ That is incredibly immature.”

“I know, I know.” He walked closer to the bed and gripped the railing tightly. “It just…it seemed like he cared more about his mission report than about you being half dead on a gurney. It was stupid and it was immature and I’m sorry for snapping like I did.”

He lifted one hand and placed it on Saren’s shoulder, feeling the heat of him through the thin blanket. “I almost lost you, okay? If that sniper had been using different ammo he would have taken your head clean off. You almost died and Sparatus was more concerned about a fucking data-disk of information and fucking cargo.”

“Hazardous and illegal cargo.” Saren corrected wryly.

“I know.” Nihlus said again. “Look, when you get out of here, I want to have a conversation with you. Not a Spectre to trainee conversation, but turian to turian. It’s important and I don’t think it should wait much longer.”

The pale plated turian gave him an odd look. “What is it you want to talk about?”

Nihlus just shook his head and squeezed Saren’s shoulder once before heading to the exit. “Now isn’t the time.” He muttered and then seemed to change his mind. “This thing you and Sparatus have, whatever it is exactly, I don’t think it’s healthy for you…Anyway, I’ll see you later Saren.”

 +_-_-_-_-_+

Saren only stayed in the hospital long enough to speak directly with his doctor and to get a cursory exam. Then he pulled on the clothes from a bag that had been left in his room, a set of black civilian wear complete with a warm cloak that he settled around his shoulders. There was a hood paired with the clothing, designed to cover his fringe and hide his implants but he left it off. It was unnecessary and would only irritate the sutures on the back of his neck.

He had somewhere he had to be and something he really had to do.

+_-_-_-_-_+

“Arterius, I’m delighted to see you on your feet.” The turian councilor stood from his desk as the door behind Saren snapped closed and locked. “I should inform you that I’ve yet to receive the report from your student.”

“I believe he already delivered it to Councilor Tevos earlier today.” Saren stated and moved forward to shake the councilor’s outstretched hand. “I understand she was expecting him.”

“I see.” Sparatus hummed. “In that case, was there something you needed?”

“I wanted to speak to you on a…personal matter.” He said.

“Oh?” The councilor asked and his subtones were genuinely curious.

“Namely, my relationship with you. I think it’s time we ended it.”

“Oh.” Sparatus said again. “I can honestly say I wasn’t expecting to hear that.”

Saren held his mandibles tight to his face and tried to convince himself that the decision had nothing to do with Nihlus’ words before he’d left the hospital. Even though his student was completely right. His relationship with Sparatus was unhealthy and it was past time for it to end.

“I think it’s gone on longer than is wise for the both of us.” He said.

Sparatus didn’t even blink, taking his words in stride. “I agree Arterius, it’s been five years since we started this liaison and I believe ending it is beneficial to the both of us.”

Saren sighed, subtones humming relief. This was much easier than he’d thought it would be.

“I know how you feel about you student.” Sparatus continued almost casually. “Also, I want you to know that you’ve always been my favorite and I don’t just mean my favorite in bed. You’re an excellent Spectre Arterius, one of, if not the best in history.”

He had stopped listening after the first sentence, his brain fuzzing out when the councilor spoke about his trainee. “Excuse me?” Saren asked.

“I said you’re the best Spectre I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.” He said.

“No, not that.” In truth he could care less what Sparatus thought of him as a Spectre. “The first thing you said; repeat it.”

“I know how you feel about Kryik.” He said slowly, enunciating each word with care. “I know you’re in love with him.”

Saren could feel his mandibles hanging open in surprise. Of course he had finally figured out his feelings earlier in the day, but to hear it stated so plainly was a shock to the system. How long had he felt that way and not known? How obvious had it been to Sparatus, who he only saw once a month at best?

The councilor smiled at him almost sadly. “You just figured it out, didn’t you?” He asked. “Spirits Arterius, you’ve said his name the last dozen or so times we’ve been together. I assumed you were imagining I was him.”

Saren didn’t answer, the truth was, sometimes he had pictured it was Nihlus fucking him. Suddenly Sparatus was standing in his personal space with his hands resting on Saren’s shoulders and staring into his eyes.

“I’m pleased you’ve finally come to this realization.” The councilor said with warm subtones. “I’m glad we can still remain friends at the very least. Do yourself a favor Saren, do not wait too long to tell him how you feel.”

“I don’t plan to wait at all.” He said and found it to be a truthful pledge. “And Sparatus?”

“Yes?”

Since he was being honest on all fronts, there was no reason to hold back. “We were never friends.”

+_-_-_-_-_+

They were stuck on the Citadel until Saren could have his biotic port replaced. As far as Nihlus knew, Saren didn’t have an apartment he could return to for rest and neither did he. So a rather fancy hotel (paid for by the Council) on the Presidium it was. In his room connected by a door to Saren’s, Nihlus rested his head in his hands and sighed. He wasn’t sure what he’d been thinking when he’d told Saren he wanted to talk. He knew what he’d been feeling but that was different. Fuck, he’d almost lost Saren. Really lost him on that stupid recon mission. His chest had been tight while the Spectre was in surgery and his muscles had been so tense it had felt like he had a metal rod in his spine. Then while he’d waited at Saren’s beside for him to wake and watching him lay there, Nihlus had felt like he was afloat without an anchor. His mind droning on with all the things he’d never said and everything he wanted to say.

He’d had every word planned out, he’d known the arguments the Spectre would pose and the counters he would use. Nihlus would tell him that he was thankful for everything he’d done, for his second chance. Then he would tell Saren how he felt about him, that he respected and admired him. That despite all of his efforts to the contrary, Nihlus was in love with him and had been for some time.

He ran his hands over his face and sighed again. Of course now, after he’d told Saren that he wanted to talk with him, none of the words were there. The concepts still were. He knew he wanted Saren. He knew he was done with fantasies and done with the distance he’d tried to keep between them for the last week. He knew anything could happen and that the next assignment could easily be their last and he knew that was why he couldn’t keep his mouth shut anymore. He had to tell his mentor how he felt.

And if Saren didn’t want him back…Nihlus knew he’d get over it in time, eventually.

+_-_-_-_-_+

Nihlus was fine-tuning another report to the council when Saren walked into his room without knocking. He immediately got to his feet, tossing the datapad behind him. There was something off about his mentor and it wasn’t just that he wasn’t wearing armor. He was in only a black civilian style suit with one shoulder and his waist hidden by a black cloak that fell nearly to the floor but still gave tantalizing glimpses of his form. He was also carrying himself far more stiffly than Nihlus had ever seen, his shoulders back and spine straight, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“Saren what’s wrong?”

The door snapped shut behind him and the holo-panel turned red as it locked.

Well, that’s certainly foreboding. Nihlus thought. “Saren?”

“Quiet.” The Spectre snapped and Nihlus’ mouth shut with a soft click. “I do not like this, but I owe you for what you did for me.”

“You don’t owe me anything, you’d have done the same for me.”

Saren’s mandibles titled in an expression that said he was doubtful of that. “Nevertheless, I repay my debts.” He stepped closer and, seeming to reach some decision, he slid off his gloves.

Nihlus stared. His hands were beautiful, the same silver-grey tone as his face and his long fingers were tipped with recently trimmed and blunted black talons. He’d never seen Saren in any state of undress before and what he’d just done was the equivalent of shedding his shirt. He looked up and tried to catch his mentor’s eyes but Saren wasn’t exactly looking at him, sort of just in his direction.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Something you’ll enjoy.” The Spectre told him.  “Remove your clothes Nihlus and lay down on the bed.”

His tone didn’t leave much room for argument but the younger turian still hesitated. His hands hovered at his sides. This had to be…Saren couldn’t possibly be serious.

“I mean you no harm Nihlus, only pleasure and I’ll strip you myself if it’s necessary.”

He swallowed nervously. “You’re serious? This isn’t some twisted joke to get back at me for something I did?”

Saren gave him a spiteful look, the line of his jaw tight. “Of course I’m serious. I wouldn’t offer otherwise.”

“But you just said you didn’t like this.”

Saren made an irritated noise, mandibles fluttering just a bit. “I meant that I don’t like owing debts. I know of your…infatuation with me. I won’t deny that I want you in the same fashion.”

Nihlus stared at him, completely disbelieving and confused. Saren wanted him too? “I’ve been your friend for a year and now you want to- wait I thought you and the councilor…?”

“I have never had more than one lover at a time Nihlus. Speaking of, you’re wasting time.” He stepped closer, gesturing with one hand. “Off with it.”

He hesitated again, fingers closing on the clasps of his shirt. “You don’t have to do this.”

Saren caught his stare and he was surprised at the heat of lust reflected in their silvery depths. “No, I don’t have to. I want to.” His subharmonics rumbled affection and the rigidity went out of his shoulder. “Get undressed Nihlus so we can get started.”

“Then you strip too,” He said with a lopsided grin. “I don’t want to be the only one naked here.”

His mentor returned the grin, his mandibles spreading slowly outward. “Not just yet.”

Nihlus pulled his shirt open and tossed it across the room without looking, in fact, his eyes never left Saren’s even as he bent to pull off his trousers. His mentor watched his every move with undisguised interest, his gaze wandering over flesh and plate as it was revealed. He sat on the edge of his bed when he was done, leaning back on his hands and letting his knees fall open in invitation.

“Are you just going to stand there?” He asked provocatively.

Saren strode forward until he stood between his legs, one hand coming up to lightly touch his jaw and stroke over his mandible. Nihlus titled his head back so that his throat was completely bared and Saren leaned over him, their eyes locked, iridescent silver on bright green. Then his mentor’s mouth was closing over his pulse, teeth nipping and tongue lapping gently.

Nihlus let out a soft purr and reached out to grasp the back of Saren’s skull, feeling the lack of his biotic port and finding only tender skin. The older turian’s breathing stopped for just a second and then he rumbled an encouraging tone for Nihlus to keep touching him.

He framed his mentor’s neck with both hands, thumbs coming up to rub the outer edge of his mandibles and then to trace the length of his long valluvian horns. Saren caught his mouth with his own then and his tongue dove inside without warning, so deep Nihlus thought he could feel him at the opening of his throat. He growled and pushed at Saren’s chest just enough to give him some space. The larger turian acquiesced, tilting his head back to give Nihlus room to breathe and to bring his own tongue into play.

It was everything and more Nihlus had ever imagined it to be. Kissing Saren, tasting his mouth and feeling the points of his teeth as his tongue moved over them. The flavor of him, like liquid heat and steal and the tang of eezo and vaguely sweet as the appendage undulated against his own. All the nights he’d laid awake thinking about how it would be and imagining just what Saren would taste like, it was nothing compared to the real thing.

Not that he was going to complain, hell no, but this was not the way their conversation was supposed to go. It was supposed to go along the lines of Nihlus confessing his love for the Spectre, maybe punctuated with a soft touch to his mandible or a passing caress over his fringe. He didn’t want there to be any misunderstandings between them. He needed Saren to know his true feelings, that he loved him even if the older turian rejected him after tonight.

He pushed him back just a little. “Saren I-“

A hand around the back of his neck pulled him in again. “I know Nihlus.”

That was all that needed to be said and their mouths connected again, breath and saliva mingling as they tasted each other. He felt his pelvic plates getting loose and moist as he started to become hard behind them. Then Saren’s hand was suddenly there in between his thighs and cupping him in his palm. He groaned, arching his hips up and willing himself to open. But as his plates began to part, he felt a strange pressure and smelled that heady, stomach-knotting aroma of biotics. Looking down in surprise, he saw Saren’s hand shimmering a pale blue.

“What are you doing?” He asked anxiously, tearing his mouth away and suddenly breathless and afraid.

Somehow Saren was holding him half closed and hard behind his plates with biotics. And try as he might, he couldn’t spread open any more than a few scant inches.

Saren looked down at him, his silver eyes luminescent and a grin evident in the tilt of his mandibles. “My biotic prowess is drastically reduced without the amp to focus it.” He said. “You have my word that I will not hurt you.”

Sincere and warming subtones made the statement valid and Nihlus relaxed a little, leaning back on his elbows. And then Saren dropped to his knees between his spread thighs. He kept that hand just above his groin plates while his other hand tracked a slow pattern up his left leg. Then he leaned forward and Nihlus’ entire world dissolved.

He barely felt the first soft touch of Saren’s tongue. His brain only registered wetness and heat before it caught up with what his mentor was actually doing to him. The second touch was firmer, sliding past the small opening of his plates and then inside him. The tip of his tongue stroked lightly, almost cautiously over the head of his dick.

Nihlus’ hips snapped forward against his will and he moaned. “Spirits Saren,”

The grey colored turian hummed in acknowledgement and the vibration from his chest transferred to the movement of his tongue. Nihlus moaned again, hands leaving the bed to rest on his mentor’s shoulders. He rolled his hips as Saren licked him with a long and slow undulation along the outer edges of his plates. Another touch to the tip of his cock sent a ripple of sensation up his spine that made him shake all over. Saren exhaled against the heat of him, the hand on his leg squeezing once and then caressing along his inner thigh gently.

He leaned back and looked up at Nihlus. They stared at each other for a moment silently.

“Don’t stop, it feels so good.” It felt better than good. Nihlus’ head was spinning on an insane axis.

“I’m not.” Saren told him and the hand above his pelvic opening pulsed with biotic energy. “Spread your legs a little more so I can-“

“Yeah…just…” He leaned back with his elbows supporting his weight, opening his thighs wider and stretching his legs out as far as they would go so his spurs didn’t catch on the bed. “Okay…okay keep going, please.”

The younger turian watched him down the span of his chest as Saren moved in closer, his shoulders filling the void between Nihlus’ legs. He dipped his head to continue, those silver eyes closing as he focused on his task. The feeling of rough, hot tongue hit a second later, once again only on the outer edge of his plates.

Saren licked with agonizing slowness along the half-parted seam. His tongue almost fluttering like the wings of some small insect. He slipped it inside as Nihlus wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, idly caressing the underside of his fringe and trying to urge him on.

Nihlus let out a subvocal hum of pleasure, his heart pounded a vicious rhythm in his chest and his breath hissed out between clenched teeth. And when Saren pushed his tongue inside him and wrapped it around the length of his erection, he lost it. His head rocked back on his shoulders and a loud moan of ecstasy exploded from his lungs. He held the Spectre’s head in place and shoved his hips forward against his mouth.

“Ah Saren that feels…so…oooh.” He murmured, stroking his palms over the other turian’s fringe, rubbing his thumbs along those lovely horns again.

Saren reached up with the hand not working that biotic magic and dislodged his grip. He laced their fingers together and laid their joined hands on Nihlus’ stomach and held him there as he moved his shoulders more securely between the youth’s legs. His biotics pulsed again, a warm heat sliding through Nihlus from his pelvis to his brain and surrounding his spine with electricity.

He was already so close. The bliss caused by his mentor’s tongue building and getting more insistent with each pass of his slick tongue. Saren licked his seam again, slowly from the bottom up before diving back through the gap to flick repeated against the head of his dick. Nihlus’ arms gave out finally and he fell flat to the bed, one hand still caught in Saren’s tight grip on his lower abdomen while the other twisted in the sheets next to his hip. Another lick, another curling of that unbelievably dexterous tongue had a strangled moan erupting from his chest and his hips bucking uncontrollably.

That heat and pressure behind his groin gave a sudden intense shift and his nervous system lit up like a circuit board. He tried to pull his hand from Saren’s grasp, wanting to both pull him closer and push him away. His other hand locked convulsively in the bedsheets and he felt his talons, though blunted, ripping into them. It was too much and not enough at the same time and he clutched Saren’s hand tightly.

Nihlus heaved a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut as his vision blurred. His subharmonics were letting out euphoric sounds, half moan and half whimper. He was struck with the realization that he’d never made those kinds of noises for anyone else and that of course Saren was the only one that could make him. He rolled his hips again, demanding and needing more before his brain liquefied from just how fucking hot this was. Saren, the council’s absolute best Spectre, on his knees and between his thighs. Licking him and sticking his tongue inside him like no one else ever had. Tasting him in a way he hadn’t even known could be done.

Then Saren growled low, the vibration travelling out his mouth and into him and Nihlus couldn’t take any more. Again he tried to pull his hand free. He even tried to nudge his mentor away with his knees when that didn’t work but the other turian didn’t move. If anything he just licked Nihlus harder and faster with quick and somehow thorough swipes of his tongue. Saren kept licking, sliding his tongue past the parted plates and flicking repeatedly over the head and everywhere else on the shaft that he could reach, that tongue winding around his ridges expertly.

Nihlus tried to stop him again with the same results, feeling himself at the very edge of his release. He felt like his nerves were melting beneath his plates and his senses were so heightened that he could hear his own heartbeat.

“Ah, oh fuck.” That tongue slid along the length on his shaft and then pulled away.

“Okay, okay Saren, you have to stop. It’s too much…you…have…to stop.”

The Spectre doubled his efforts. His breath hot as it flowed across Nihlus’ groin and into him as Saren lapped at him. His tongue was too hot, wet and still too rough as it again caressed the entirety of him before he felt it wrap around the head of his dick.

His hips bucked hard. It felt so spirits-damned good. “Oh, oh please. I’m going to…I can’t…Saren I can’t… oh fuckfuckfuckfuck.” And he really couldn’t come, as close as he was, he just couldn’t.

Saren gave him one final push. One little flare of biotic stimuli just above where his mouth was buried against him with that wonderful tongue inside and wrapped around his dick in an impossible way. The tip of his tongue suddenly pressed hard on the small opening at the end of his cock and with one hard encompassing lick, Nihlus was able to let go.

“Ah, SAREN!” He shouted with both vocal cords, his subharmonics vibrating with ecstasy. The sensation of finally getting his release, of feeling Saren drink him down, felt like falling and smacking the bottom at full speed. He stopped breathing, stopped thinking, his vision became white and his brain shut down and then went into a full reboot.

When he came back to himself, he was gasping for breath with his legs hanging over the edge of his bed. His dick was still persistently hard, finally released from his plates and so heavy with blood and need that it rested against his lower stomach. And Saren was perched over him. Still unable to think clearly, he reached up and touched his fingers lightly to the other turian’s face. Astonishingly, Saren leaned into his hand and began to purr slowly with contentment. The sound was…peaceful and something he had never, ever heard from his mentor before.

He wanted to say something, maybe tell Saren just how fucking amazing that had felt but all he could do was breathe. His mentor was still holding his hand, only now it was up by his face as the pale turian leaned over him. His mouth landed firmly on Nihlus’, the outer edges of his mandibles sliding along the inner curve of his own. Saren’s fingers from their joined hands rubbed gently along his fringe as their tongues danced together and he could taste himself in that mouth.

Spirits, he felt so…

Saren kept kissing him as he climbed over him to straddle his waist, his free hand slipping behind his head and under his crest. The older turian pushed his forehead against Nihlus’ briefly before moving back just enough to look down at him.

Nihlus stared up at him and smiled slowly; he wasn’t going to wait. It was a now or never sort of thing. “I love you.”

Saren was silent and Nihlus shifted underneath him minutely.

“If you don’t…feel the same or just don’t want to say it back, that’s alright.” He said. “I um, I needed you to know.”

Saren still didn’t answer him and Nihlus put his feet flat on the floor, getting the leverage to push his mentor off so he could stand. When the older turian dismounted and stretched out beside him to lean back against the headboard, he knew that was his answer. His heart clenched painfully but before that particular emotional pain set in Saren had grabbed his shoulder and pulled him up along his side.

“Look, don’t play with me.” He snapped, subharmonics aggravated. “If all you want is sex-“

“Nihlus,” Saren interrupted and pushed his forehead tightly to his again. “In all truth, I have no experience with this.” He waved his hand to include the both of them. “However, I do…I feel the same.”

It was better than he’d hoped for, so much better. Nihlus wrapped his arm around Saren’s neck and pulled him closer. Breathed in the smell of him as he laid his head against the hollow of his throat. He had really been afraid that was the end of it, one mind-blowing experience in bliss before Saren never touched him again. He laughed as the relief flooded him.

“Okay,” He said, still chuckling. “I’ve got to know, what did you do to me?”

“I used a concentrated stasis field.” Saren told him.

A stasis field? That was actually kind of terrifying.

“Whoa. Really?” Nihlus asked and Saren nodded once.

“Can you teach me to do that?”

The older turian gave a quiet laugh. “No, you’re not a biotic. And it’s a…personal technique. I’m not aware of anyone else that can accomplish it.”

“Well can you…I don’t know, maybe do that to yourself? I mean, can you hold yourself closed like that so I can, ah, return the favor?”

Saren shook his head. “It takes too much concentration.”

Nihlus noticed the thin layer of sweat on the Spectre’s face and throat; he had obviously used a lot of mental strength.  He reached out and gently wiped the moisture away before Saren caught his hand in his own and squeezed tightly.

“And I…” He paused, looking down at their joined hands. “I don’t think I could focus with you licking me.”

Nihlus chuckled again. “I’d still like to try it though.”

He rubbed the back of his neck absently. “I can’t do that again right now.” He confessed. “I shouldn’t even be using my biotics without an amp.”

“Got a headache again?”

“Yes, a small one.”

Nihlus let go of Saren’s hand and climbed over him, straddling his thighs and smoothing his hands over the turian’s fringe. The fabric of his black suit brushed against his bare plates and hide in a pleasant way.

“Let me help you feel better then.”

Silver-grey mandibles twitched with permission and Saren’s eyes grew hot with renewed lust.

 +_-_-_-_-_+

To say he was surprised when Nihlus didn’t immediately try to undress him was an understatement. But the youth just laid flat on the bed and pulled Saren over his body, completely ignoring his clothing as he ran his hands over him. Over and under his fringe, cradling the base of his skull gently as Nihlus kissed him. The only thing he wanted to remove was the long cloak and he slid it from around Saren’s neck and shoulders before he folded it and dropped it over the side of the bed.

“I don’t want it to tangle around us and get ripped.” He said with a grin. “It did look good on you though.”

The fabric now on the floor he could feel the heat of Nihlus’ hands and the strength of his fingers on his shoulders. Those fingers trailed down his upper arms, gripped the inside of his elbows once reassuringly and then moved onto his chest, exploring the width of it slowly before continuing downward to his waist. Nihlus stopped there and looked up into his eyes, his mandibles tilted in a mischievous way.

“Not that I’m not enjoying this,” He whispered warmly. “But I’d love it if you’d touch me too.”

Saren obliged him, diving in to lick under his jaw and down over his throat, letting his hands stroke over Nihlus’ waist. The younger turian rolled his hips a little, rubbing his erection against his front with a sigh. Groaning, Saren ground against him, his own groin plates had shifted open the moment the younger turian had pulled him on top. Darkly colored hands tightened on his hips as Nihlus rocked up to meet him, thrusting against him through his clothes.

Saren growled lowly into his neck and wrapped his arms around Nihlus, tilting his face up to catch his mouth in another kiss. Tongues intertwined for long minutes until Nihlus pushed him back again.

“Can you take this off?” He asked, tugging at Saren’s shirt.

He nodded and rose to his knees between the other turian’s legs, working the buttons open with nimble fingers. Nihlus slid his hands up his chest and pushed the shirt off his shoulders. He cupped Saren’s mandibles and pulled him down for another taste, licking the inside of his mouth thoroughly.

The way Nihlus submitted to him had his head spinning and his blood flowing through his veins at a rapid pace. It was refreshing not to be pushed toward the act of sex, not to be shoved onto his back and have his legs forced open. It seemed Nihlus was sticking to his promise and only trying to make him feel good and not just selfishly seeking his own pleasure.  Saren rocked against his student with a little more force, even rolled his hips from side to side just to hear Nihlus moan again.

The younger turian didn’t disappoint, his previously unheard subvocals growing in volume and intensity. “Spirits Saren” He whimpered and bucked his own hips. “I don’t want to rush you…”

Saren bit his throat lightly. He didn’t want to rush either but his plates had been open for a long time now and he was so hard it was getting unbearable. He ground their hips together again and pulled away, dropping his hands to the clasp of his pants and nearly ripping them open in his haste to get them off.

With all his clothes finally gone, Saren stretched out atop his protégé, allowing himself to get comfortable on a wide chest and between densely muscled legs. Nihlus dug his hand in between their bodies and grabbed his erection tightly in a calloused palm. Saren gasped, his hips snapping forward at the pressure as his student squeezed him even tighter. Nihlus grinned up at him, a mischievous light in his eyes and he suddenly found himself on his back with the youth setting across his thighs.

He had never lost his grip on his cock and now he leaned forward and rubbed their faces together. His tongue snaked out and lapped at the edge of one mandible, he moved his mouth upward and nibbled along the length of his horn. Saren placed one hand on the back of his neck and the other on his hip to urge him on. Nihlus ground down on him, panting gently against his face as he brought his erection in to contact with Saren’s still gripped in his hand.

Nihlus was the only person that Saren trusted fully and without fail. He made that known to the youth as he offered the arch of his throat and let it rest against his student’s open mouth, feeling the sharp edges of teeth on the thin hide. There were few things a turian could do to express trust in another person, and even fewer that could be communicated in such an intimate way. Sex was one thing, but baring his throat and giving it to the turian above him was the only way (in this particular situation) he could show that he trusted the youth with more than just his body.

When his mouth closed and those teeth clamped down without breaking flesh, Saren let out the breath he’d been holding. Nihlus thrummed a low note of thanks and licked over his pulse, his forehead brushing the edge of one mandible.

“Saren?” He asked softly.

“Yes?”

“How do you want this to go?” He whispered, rocking slowly against Saren. His subvocals were more to the point. Do you want to be inside me?

Saren nodded once and Nihlus rolled them again so that he was back between the younger turian’s legs and leaning over him. Green eyes gleamed with want and need as they stared at each other. A soft, barely heard subharmonic trill effectively told him to do anything he wanted and another louder sound told him that Nihlus would submit completely to whatever that was.

Spirits help him; Nihlus had craved this so much it went from being a desire directly to a physical need. He was aching with desire, his cock relentlessly hard just from looking at Saren above him. Those silver with a hint of blue eyes held his gaze as the pale body laid more firmly on his own, hips sliding between his thighs to spread them open. Large hands caressed his waist and he shivered with anticipation. One hand slid under his back to lift him as Saren moved into position. He knew the natural oils that covered a turian’s penis would make the next part easier. If he stayed relaxed and calm he’d hardly feel any pain at all. He just had to breathe through it.

Saren pressed their foreheads together, keeping the pressure as he shifted his hips the slightest degree and slid into him that first inch.

Inhale…

A second shift of his hips, the hand on his lower back quivered the smallest amount, talons pinching at the thin hide covering his spine. Another inch slid into him, the first ridge of Saren’s dick stretching him.

Exhale…

Saren rumbled softly and his warm breath fanned Nihlus’ face. It seemed he was trying to keep his breathing steady too. He groaned as he pushed a little further and sank in a few more inches, those ridges rubbing inside him in the most wonderful way.

Inhale…

He nuzzled his face against Saren’s, mandibles twitching as he smiled. One last forward motion from his hips and the older turian was in him to the root, a strangled sound leaving his throat.

Exhale…

Saren stilled once he had gone as deep as he could and Nihlus felt the frantic beat of his heart through his chest. He heard his own heartbeat in his ears, fast and erratic, felt the blood racing in his veins. His mentor still had not moved, the hand at his back holding their bodies together tightly and their foreheads still touching as he got his breathing under control.

“Nihlus,” His voice was strained and shaking.

“Saren,” He answered reverently. “You don’t have to go slow. You’re not going to break me.”

Tilting his head back, his presented his throat the same way that Saren had moments ago. The older turian’s resulting bite was surprisingly gentle, less of a bite and more of a firm hold over his windpipe. Nihlus put a hand on the back of his neck, idly felt around the smooth flesh that had once been imbedded with a biotic port, and pushed down. Tempting Saren to actually bite him because he knew the Spectre wouldn’t tear his throat out even if he had the chance.

He sighed as his mentor’s teeth closed over his pulse and sighed again as Saren pulled back. Pale hips rolled once, bringing his attention back to the way their bodies were joined and to his cock caught between them, pressed against that equally pale stomach. He smoothed his hands along Saren’s arms until he reached his shoulders and then he wrapped his own arms around them, pulling the larger turian closer and letting their heads rest together.

He moaned as Saren rocked his hips forward again and then pulled them back, his arousal slid from Nihlus just a little, those ridges dragging at his insides until he was whimpering at the pleasure it caused. That was when Saren started to thrust, hips plunging forward and his cock going so deep Nihlus forgot how to breathe.

It seemed to go on forever and left Saren feeling as though he were in a dreamlike state. He was lost in the sensation of thrusting into Nihlus, of looking into his eyes as he took the younger turian. His arousal gripped tightly by internal muscles while his protégé’s cock rubbed against his abdomen in a slickness of its own.

The mahogany colored turian panted hard against his neck with every thrust, his arms tight around Saren’s waist and his talons digging into the plates spanning his upper back. Nihlus met his every motion and matched it with his own. He copied every movement from a tender touch on a mandible to a caress over fringe blades to a bite on the neck just under the jaw. He countered every thrust of Saren’s hips with his own, whimpering every time his erection got trapped between the pressure and weight of their bodies.

After the tenth or so time, Saren decided to give him a respite.

Nihlus arched clean off the bed when he finally took hold of him and breathed a string of curses amidst cries of Saren’s name. His subharmonic noises were frantic and pleading for more. He gripped the base of the youth’s cock and held it firmly against his stomach, keeping the contact as he thrust forward hard.

Teeth grazed his throat. “Fuck Saren,”

He pumped Nihlus’ cock in his palm in time with his thrusts, drawing out his strokes as sweet agony tingled in his spine. Rising to his knees with the youth’s thighs to either side of his hips allowed him to penetrate even deeper and gave him the leverage to push harder. The younger turian swore at him again, his head tilting back as his hips shot forward.

Saren snarled and pushed the deepest yet, feeling Nihlus’ body clench down on him and hug at the distended ribbing of his dick. He fucked his protégé faster, and spirits, it felt so good he could do it forever. Nihlus’ hands converged on the back of his neck and jerked him back down, their mouths slamming together. He nipped at the youth’s tongue until he pulled it away, hissing softly.

He hummed an apology; he hadn’t meant to bite quite so hard. Nihlus nuzzled his face and Saren’s breath left him in a rush as he suddenly flipped them back over. Hands pushed down on his shoulders, holding him in place as Nihlus got his knees positioned next to Saren’s hips. His mandibles were slanted in a self-satisfied smile as he lifted up just a little before dropping back down sharply and impaling himself on Saren.

He grunted and only reflex had his hands landing on Nihlus’ thighs to steady him and gripping tightly. He moved back and forth on Saren, rocking his entire body almost as if he were dancing. Nihlus moved up and down, back and forth, his breathing coming in soft gusts. Saren ran his hands up his thighs and over his waist all the way to his throat, wrapping around him to pull his head down toward his to touch their brows together. He left one hand there; eyes caught by Nihlus’ and settled his other hand around his erection. Saren kept pace with his protégé’s movements, meeting his thrusts and stroking in time with the rise and fall of the younger turian’s hips.

Their eyes stayed locked on one another’s until Nihlus came apart at the seams. His head fell back against the ridge of his cowl and his hands clenched on Saren’s upper arms, talons biting and drawing the barest amount of blood. Nihlus sucked in a breath and let it out with a snarled groan of pleasure as he came, cock twitching and pulsing in Saren’s grasp. His release splattered onto the Spectre’s chest hotly, tension seeping out of his entire frame as his hands loosened on Saren’s arms slowly.

“Spirits.” Nihlus murmured, trying to calm his breathing.

Saren squirmed underneath him and in him, trying to get his own release. Nihlus smiled down at him warmly and rolled his hips teasingly. He groaned, he’d had enough of being patient. Saren bucked up, twisted at the waist threw Nihlus back beneath him. The younger turian moaned low as Saren shoved into him, going impossibly deep. Then Nihlus’ hands landed on his ass and jerked him in tighter as he arched his body up, feeling the stickiness of his seed between them.

Saren growled and pressed his face against Nihlus’ throat to smother his subvocals. Even though he did love his student, it was another thing entirely to let the youth hear exactly what he felt. Noises of desire and pleasure were fine, but the deeper, more visceral sounds of love…Saren didn’t know why precisely but he wanted to keep them closer to his chest.

Nihlus, however, was not clamping down on his subharmonics and the heavy purr of devoted love was like music as it flowed over him. Saren thrust harder and faster, driven by the worshipful noises his lover made. He was almost there, so close to that final burst of ecstasy, that trancelike state of rapture. Nihlus’ hands on his rear pulled him in deeper again and his thighs wrapped around the back of Saren’s.

“Saren,” His protégé murmured. “Let go for me, come.”

The bass of his voice next to Saren’s ear sent a shiver down his spine. He was even closer than he’d been a moment ago, heat building in his blood and behind his groin. Nihlus’ soft murmurs, gentle encouragements and wandering caresses hastened him on until he was pounding into him with fervor.

Saren slid his hand behind Nihlus’ head and under his fringe, splayed his fingers over the back of his neck and held on. He thrust forward again, arching his hips up in a way that had Nihlus gasping for breath and his talons digging in on his backside.

The action pushed him over and he came stifling a roar in Nihlus’ throat. His biotics flared around him, cackling between their bodies and making his lover cry out with surprise. He thrust deep on last time, half on reflex and half trying to draw the sensation out for as long as he could. Saren felt his body empty of every ounce of tension even as his muscles started to ache and the blue sparks covering them finally dissipated. Nihlus was speaking to him but he could only hear the rush of his own blood and the racing of his heart. He nuzzled his face back and forth against the dark hide, covering his student in the scent of eezo, sex and spent desires.

“Saren?” Nihlus’ voice sounded so far away even though he could feel his breath along the spines of his fringe. “Saren, you okay?”

Saren was better than okay, he was in heaven. Nihlus’ body was warm underneath his and he was still gently caressing him from fringe down over his rear and thighs and then back up to pass over his mandibles. He was more sexually satisfied than he’d been in a long time, though he wasn’t completely sated, not yet. Saren nuzzled their faces together again before dipping his tongue into the younger turian’s mouth, bodies still intimately connected and drenched in sweat.

Nihlus tilted his head back, pushing at Saren’s shoulders to end the kiss. “That was…I don’t have words for what it was. Amazing does not cover it, that’s for sure.”

Saren flicked his mandibles in a smile. His lover smiled back, slowly and with a playful air. Nihlus rolled his hips once and Saren saw stars at feeling his cock gripped and stroked tightly.

“Again?” He asked breathlessly.

“Please.”

Saren, of course, obliged him.

+_-_-_-_-_+

Saren woke to Nihlus’ arm tossed over his waist and his breath warming the skin on the back of his neck. He stretched slowly and found himself to be deliciously sore in so many places. Nihlus had unmatched stamina, he had gone to and past the point of exhaustion. Every time Saren thought he was sated, every time he thought he’d had enough, Nihlus would reach for him and pounce again. That was the thing about younger turians. They kept going until they dropped, in all situations, but never more so than in the bedroom.

At some point they had finally separated. Sprawling out on the bed and leaning against each other as they caught their breath. The sound of satisfied purrs had lulled them both to sleep tangled around each other. He shifted again and Nihlus’ arm tightened around him, pulling his back more firmly against his chest with a contented sigh. It had been so long since he’d slept next to someone and Saren decided he could certainly get used to this. He put his hand over the dark plated one on his hip and squeezed gently.

Nihlus stirred, nuzzling his face against Saren’s neck and cowl. He mumbled sleepily for a moment before releasing his hold and rolling onto his back. His breathing changed, grew less shallow and steadier, letting Saren know he’d woken up fully.

“Good morning,” He said, turning over to look at the younger turian.

“Morning,” Nihlus returned, his voice dry and raspy. “Y’know, until just now, I thought I dreamed the whole thing. Having you in my bed and…fucking you, it felt unreal.”

“A dream Nihlus?” Saren asked dubiously letting a vague note of teasing dip into his subvocals.

Nihlus leaned over him and brushed their foreheads together, his mandibles fluttering with some tender emotion. “Mmmm, best wet-dream I’ve ever had. You were, spirits, I don’t have words for how good you were. I never expected you to be so…gentle, I guess is the term, but that still doesn’t do it justice. I loved it, I really did. I love you Saren.”

Saren offered up a soft purr. “I know you do.”

“You don’t have to say it back. I know not to expect it.” The mahogany tinted turian gave an answering purr, deeper in tone a saturated with optimism. “I know how you feel.”

He pushed his browplate hard against Nihlus’ as he grabbed him by the waist. It was a weight off his shoulders that the younger turian didn’t necessarily expect to hear those words from him too, because he still couldn’t form them properly even though he felt them like a burning ember in his chest. So Saren showed him instead. In the placement of his hands on his waist and in the way he offered his throat in the same manner he had last night.

Nihlus took the gesture in stride, teeth settling on his flesh and gently gripping. He growled as Saren cupped the back of his head, fingertips just grazing the underside of his fringe.

Then, to his surprise, the words bubbled up and out of him of their own accord. “I love you too Nihlus.”

His lover sucked in a breath and then Nihlus kissed him ravenously, holding his face and running his thumbs over his horns. Suddenly he was on top of Saren, never once pulling away from his mouth, tongue stroking him and savoring his taste. He wrapped his arms around Nihlus and snapped his hips up as his groin plates started to part. He could feel his protégé entering the same state of arousal.

And here he’d thought Nihlus was satiated. Saren chuckled lightly into his mouth as the youth bit his tongue. Nihlus kissed him with abandon and touched him everywhere he could reach. Hands grabbed his hips and lifted him up into a more comfortable position. Saren tightened his arms more firmly around him and surrendered to the heat gathering in his veins and pooling low in his body. Nihlus was already grinding against him, rumbling out encouraging and erotic subtones.

Saren did not plan on leaving their hotel room in the near future.

End