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It is too late when Shepard realises her mistake.
But now her ears burn red, while her face tries not to let on the fact that there are cracks in her composure. She attempts to hide it behind a subtle cough, trying to make it seem like it is nothing at all.
She can’t break. Not when they aren’t the only people in the conversation.
“Shepard?” Garrus changes the tone up in his repetition, as if saying her name didn't grab enough of her attention the first time around. And now a question mark ends his sentence, a sense of concern fills the air around her. He leans into her slightly, with a tilt of his head, and the narrowing of his eyes.
Usually it is him that succumbs to stutters, backtracking on words he was so confident to say only milliseconds ago. And it is her job to wink back a witty remark and double down on the flirtatious quips he ends up swallowing.
“Are you alright, commander?” It doesn’t help that he sometimes calls her by her title when she’s telling him what to do in bed. Playful teasing that now makes her jaw tighten as her neurons send the wrong messages throughout her body.
“I’m fine.” She keeps it succinct.
The crew knows that they are together, something she was sure to clear with them to ensure no awkward situations ever come up. But the knowledge allows the turrian be a little sloppy, allowing moments of unprofessionalism as he reaches for the tips of her ears. Red and hot against the rest of her skin. He then lays a hand to her forehead the way he has seen other humans do, concern now taking over his face as his datapad is tucked to his side and no longer the centre of his focus.
“You’re warm.” He says as she pushes his hand away. In her fluster she is less than gentle, but he chalks it up to her not wanting to be forced to rest. It is a fear in her that he knows too well, as she maintains her inability to rest her mind. “You’re not meant to be this warm.”
“It’s fine, I assure you.” She tries to continue her course of action, briefing the team on details of a mission that had just come through. But the topic of conversation has already shifted, and everyone adores their commander too much to ignore possible health concerns.
“Maybe you should see Dr. Chakwas, Shepard.” Tali peeps as the crew grow worried, pushing in closer and bombaring her with their concerns.
“We can file today’s reports and continue this in the morning.” Liara continues, nodding along with the suggestions for their leader to take rest.
But the concern only makes her blush deepen, embarrassed that her brain has led her down a corridor that isn’t meant for public use. She wants to curse at Garrus, for a loose tongue and voice she enjoys a little too much.
It is her fault for not asking him to call her by her first name when they are alone. Insist, is what she should have done. Demand it, even. Give some space between the person she is when leading her crew through a battlefield, and the person she is when she’s embracing a Turian in bed.
Though she supposes that she did not envision this as a future problem.
It is not when he is shouting her name in a fight. Or even when he’s waving her down from across the room with a smile on his face.
It is when it’s seemingly flat. When he does not take notice of the shape of her name on his tongue. But then she leaves his mouth unassumingly, carried in a tone so deep and undulating. It sends a shiver up her spine whenever she hears it.
It’s too familiar.
She bites the inside of her cheek to stop herself from making any noise that she shouldn’t as she thinks of him again.
It’s too alike.
Garrus leans in, the heat of his body close enough for her to feel it against her cheek. He gently places a hand on the small of her back. It’s soothing, asking her to relax into his palm and lean against him if needed. A thumb rubs circles through her clothes, reassurance that he is there for her.
It’s too close.
It’s too close to the sound of him whimpering her name in her ear as he spills inside of her. When his eyes are closed and his breath is in her neck. When she’s clamouring for him to press even deeper into her.
“Garrus.” She grabs onto his forearm, pulling it off of her back to stop herself from falling into the rhythm of his motions.
“Shepard?”
And now she can’t stop thinking about it.
Were they not just together that very morning? Will they not end the night together once again? And yet, she is insatiable. Shepard closes her eyes and gulps, attempting to swallow down the emotions she has built up. Needing Garrus to step just a few feet away so she can gather her sanity.
Maybe it’s her fault for being too swept up in his charm to do anything about it. She really does love the way her name sounds in his mouth.
“I’m fine.” She insists once again, raising her voice just enough for everyone to get the message. Watching the faces staring at her, under the spotlight of their gaze suddenly feels too much and too exposed. Her voice cracks the second time she says it. “I’m fine.”
They don’t believe her, she can see it in their faces. She probably would not believe herself either.
With a sigh she closes her datapad and passes it to EDI to her left. “I’ll look over the rest of the reports in my cabin for the rest of the night, if that makes you all feel better.”
A sudden change in all their expressions as a burden seemingly lifts off of their shoulders. They all know that this is the most that Shepard will offer them, ever the workaholic this is as close to shore leave as she will take.
“It does, Shepard.” Tali confirms with a calming hand on Shepard’s shoulder, almost not wanting to move until she sees the commander take the elevator herself.
“We’ll cover anything that comes up.” Kaidan confirms like the good soldier he is, “Don’t worry about the reports, I’ll work with Liara on them. We’ll send it your way when we’re done.”
There’s no fighting her crew. “Thanks guys.”
Slowly one by one they bow out of the meeting circle they had formed, wishing their leader to feel better by the morning. Until all that’s left is herself and the very man she cannot stand too close to at this moment.
He towers over her, so tall that she can feel the shadow of his being engulf her. This time he does not attempt to touch her, though his hand hovers over her waist once again, straining as he has to stop himself from placing it where he wants it to be.
“Go up, I’ll bring you some food,” Garrus speaks softly, he quickly presses his mandibles in her side of her head in his attempt of a kiss the way she has taught him. Still wanting to be close to her even when she blatantly removed him off of her back “You go take a shower.”
She runs her hand through her hair in an attempt of composure. Breathing out a stifled laugh, “I’ll need it.”
That gets Garrus’ attention. He tilts his head as more questions begin to bubble in his head.
Shepard takes to the tips of her toes to kiss him against his scars to tell him that everything is alright and that she’s not angry with him or anything of the sort. Then again, and once more for reassurance. “I’ll tell you upstairs.”
When Garrus arrives in her cabin she’s still in the shower.
The bathroom door automatically opens as he steps in front of it, no steam or warmth billowing off the room indicates a cold shower. There’s a jolt of shock and a curse on the commander’s tongue before she opens her eyes.
“Sorry, Shepard.” He does not turn away. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
Instead he begins to strip his own clothing like it’s second nature, laying them neatly on the table before stepping into the shower himself. The water sounds different against his plates compared to her muscles, bouncing off the walls as Garrus steps further in.
He sets his hands on her waist, feeling her pliable skin against his palms. Moving up to her shoulder, and fingers into her neck. She sighs into him, letting his hands roam before they move into her hair.
“Let me.” He gently says, taking the bottle of shampoo that Shepard had grabbed and squeezing out enough into his palm. He’s watched her do it a thousand times by now, watching, studying, mimicking. It has become a therapeutic ritual between them, something they both always look forward to. Fingers against her head, he does his best to not dig his talons into her. She closes her eyes and hums in approval. Reverberating into him.
“Are you alright?” His voice is like honey, soothing the aches that plague her mind. She can’t help but smile into it, allowing it to seep into her bones and settle under her skin.
“I’m not sick, Garrus.” Her eyes remain shut, moving in tandem with the motions of his hands. She thinks that maybe she needed this after all.
He must be able to feel her temperature as her body sticks to his. Knowing that her denial is not just her attempting to feign her health, but instead the whole truth. His subvocals trill in acknowledgement, wanting her to keep talking as he washes the bubbles out of her hair.
“So,” He begins when she does not elaborate, “Are you going to tell me what that was all about?”
Shepard snaps back to reality, opening her eyes with a sigh that he can feel. She peels her back off of his chest and turns to face the turian. Dark red strands stick to her cheeks, and gently moves them out of her eyes. He knows how much she hates getting shampoo in her eyes.
“You are going to laugh.” She places her hands on his chest, looking up into his blue eyes. Not knowing whether to laugh or hide. “It’s all your fault, Vakarian.”
“My fault?” He laughs as his hands cover hers, holding onto them tight. “Have I not been the model turian you have come to know and love?”
He is so much taller than her, as all turians are. The tips of her toes don’t seem enough for their height difference. But there’s something comforting about the way he looms over her, bending down to place his mandibles against the crook of her neck.
“Hmm, then I must have done something bad and,” Garrus tugs at her soft skin just a little bit. “Salacious”
“We should find you the proper punishment.”
“What was my offence, Commander?”
She can feel his subvocals against her collar. Vibrating against her bones, as he teases her confession out of her. Shepard doesn’t know how he does it, coax all her laughter out of her. Bring a smile to her cheeks with only his words.
But all she can do is groan to the sound of her own name. It is his tongue, that manages to deliver her so well. Curling against the consonants and the vowels.
“Shepard?” At first it is concern that he kisses into her neck when she doesn’t say anything. But her chest quivers against him, and so he calls out to her again. To yet more adoring applause, in the form of her whimpering.
“Garrus.”
“Yes?”
“You need to stop using my name in public.” It’s a half joke. Unsure herself if she’s serious or not. But her eyes are closed and her neck is at the mercy of her lover. She squirms at the feeling of his voice, weak towards him. “It’s distracting.”
She is only like this in the throes of passion. Unable to wink back at his teasing, usually equipped with the upperhand. It takes a beat but the lightbulb does eventually go off in Garrus’ head, connecting the dots as to why she was acting so guarded with the rest of the crew. His eyes darken as the new information settles.
“So this is what gets you going?” He sniggers, knowing that it is him that makes Commander Shepard melt this way. To make her close her eyes and moan his name, to make her call for him and beg for more. It is an achievement like no other. “I didn’t know it would be that easy, Shepard.”
He’s right against her. His voice forming goosebumps on her skin, she shivers when her name hits her eardrum. Garrus’ hands are back around her waist, holding her still as she attempts to claw for him.
“Then what should I call you?” Gently the turian presses Shepard against the wall, anchoring her to calm her desperation. Or prolong it, he has the gall for it. “Darling. Sweetheart. My beloved?”
“Please, Garrus.” Desperation through her glazed eyes.
He chuckles, moving his mandibles towards her lips to allow her to kiss him. She presses her mouth to his mandible, their tongues dance and intertwine the way they have learnt to accommodate each other. “Now, how can I say no to you?”
“Shepard.” Tongue against her lips.
“Shepard.” Her name between his teeth.
“Shepard.” He loves her. More than he has ever loved another. There’s guilt that he carries, for revelling in this time he has with her. For the love of his life to only be an arm’s reach away, safe where he can see her. With her in his life, he has more to live for, and more to worry about. But she’s Commander Shepard, he shouldn’t have to worry about her.
He wonders if he is wrong, for sometimes wanting her for himself. Keep her in her room and wrap his arms around her. Just to have a moment with her where the rest of the galaxy falls silent. He’ll have it, once the war is over. He knows he will. He hopes he will.
“Come on, Garrus.” Shepard manages to say. Her arms wrap around his head, wanting to satisfy the urge that he has placed within her.
Garrus feels as if he has cracked some code. “Now when a meeting has run too long, I’ll know what to do.”
“Shut up.”
“Are you sure? You don’t really want that, do you?” He’s right. And she hates him for it. “I think we should play hooky just a while longer. No one will mind.”
“We can’t.”
“Yes we can, you promised everyone you’d stay in your bedroom all night.” He lifts her up, hooking her legs upon his hips. Mandibles flaring with glee as her need for him becomes more and more palpable. “And maybe I want to try some of my new research findings with you.”
“You’ll be the death of me, Garrus.”
“Hm,” His tongue comes out and drags itself across her cheek. Wet, sloppy and obscene. “Maybe you should say my name more often, Shepard. I’m starting to like the sound of it.”