Chapter Text
Garrus couldn’t remember how he and Shepard started talking about sex. All he remembered was sometime after the conversation where they expressed to each other “hey, I’m really happy you’re not dead,” they slid back into the kind of cultural exchange conversations they had when they had first met. Only this time their exchanges were along the lines of “Human women tend to like it when…” and “It feels good for turian guys when….”
Garrus and Shepard insisted they were just continuing to shoot the shit as friends do. Sometimes they would both suddenly become incapable of eye contact and get really flustered, but that was obviously just because it felt weird to explain something that was intuitive to their own species.
Garrus didn’t know what possessed him to do this, but one day, he told Shepard about the time a boxing match with a crew mate turned into a hookup. To his complete shock, Shepard had the audacity to run with it and suggest they also “blow off steam.”
Which, sure, they had been talking about sex a lot. And it was painfully clear neither of them had gotten laid in a while. And working with (Shepard got upset if anyone phrased it as “working for”) the human supremacist terrorist organization, Cerberus, was, to say the least, stressful.
Garrus found himself quickly warming up to the idea.
Going from a vigilante to a rogue agent has not exactly been conducive for meeting people. And Solana always says I have issues with letting people in. But Shepard’s said she’s got hang-ups like that too, so we understand each other. And Shepard and I have complete trust in each other, and really, what’s a little sex between friends? It’s like any other favor you’d do for a friend. Sort of. Depends on the friend. Point is, we’d both like to fuck something that isn’t our own hand, and we can help each other out with that.
So yeah, he told Shepard if they could figure out the logistics of interspecies intercourse, then he was down.
But then he told her to wait a bit. Didn’t want to disrupt the crew. That’s why. He wasn’t, like, scared or anything. Not at all.
The weeks went on, the missions became increasingly hectic, and every night, Shepard would stop by the battery to hang out.
One of these nights, Garrus was off to the side of the battery, his M-29 Incisor laid out on his desk. A shadow fell over him.
“You got a minute?”
Garrus didn’t bother to look up. “Can it wait for a bit? I’m in the middle of some-”
Shepard’s shadow threw up its arms. “Oh, come on! That’s a sniper rifle!”
Garrus’s subvocals trilled. “I’m calibrating the scope.”
He felt a finger poke his shoulder.
“Hey, I know what that one means now! You know you’re being a lil’ shithead and you think it’s funny!”
Garrus picked up the rifle and aimed it toward the far corner of the room. “Damn, I was having so much fun expressing myself freely. I guess all good things really do come to an end.”
Eye relief seemed to be fine. He moved on to adjusting the focus.
Shepard watched him fiddle with the knob. “Huh.”
“What?”
“This is the first time I’ve seen you with your gloves off.”
“What are you talking about? You’ve seen way more than my hands; you’ve literally seen me shirtless.”
“Yeah, but that’s different. PJ’s are different. You never take your gloves off when you’re in uniform.”
“Goes against Hierarchy uniform regulations. But it’s easier to work without them, so I’m being bad. Just don’t tell my dad. He’ll think his son is whoring about the human military with naked hands.”
“At least you still have a dad.”
Garrus brought the rifle up to his shoulder and looked through the scope again. Good to go. “You’ve overplayed the orphan card. I don’t feel bad for you anymore.”
He dry-fired a few times before placing the gun back down. When he finally looked at Shepard, she was making a weird face, like she was going to be sick.
“Hey, are you feeling okay?”
Shepard gripped the edge of his desk. Her knuckles went white.
“Sorry, I uh…had a weird impulse thought.”
Garrus laughed as he put the Incisor away. “Like what?”
Shepard was uncharacteristically quiet. After a solid minute, she blurted out, “Canikissyourhand?”
Shepard had explained how kissing was a human sign of affection. There were even different kinds of kisses – kisses parents gave to their children, kisses people gave to friends, and kisses shared between romantic partners.
Aw that’s nice of her. I’m glad she feels comfortable enough in our friendship to treat me like a human friend.
He smiled at her. “Yeah, go for it.”
She nodded. Again, with that strange expression on her face.
Is Shepard…nervous?
Shepard gently took his hand and brought it up to her face. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips to the back of his hand in the space between his two knuckles.
It might have been Garrus’s first time being kissed, but the electric jolt that shot up his arm told him it was anything but platonic.
Still holding his hand, Shepard said in a hoarse voice, “I should go.”
Garrus watched Shepard leave the battery in silence. As she walked toward the direction of her captain’s quarters, she kept clenching and releasing the hand that had held his. Garrus stared at the empty doorway, his subvocals humming in confusion.
The following night, Garrus stood at his terminal and pretended to work. His stomach twisted in a pang of anxiety. Surely Shepard would stop by. She always did. Except last night, something between them had changed. Some invisible threshold had been crossed. What if she didn’t want to sleep with him anymore? What if she regretted kissing him? Somehow that felt worse than backing out of sex.
We don’t have to have sex. I’ll call it off myself. But please kiss me again.
Familiar bootsteps thudded down the corridor. The knot in Garrus’s stomach tightened again.
Don’t be jumpy. Act normal.
He turned around. Maybe a little too fast. “Shepard. Need me for something?”
“Have you got a minute?” She looked sick again. For the first time, Garrus allowed himself to consider the idea that maybe, just maybe, she was as nervous about this as he was. And he wouldn’t want her to be nervous around him, right?
This is it. Putting myself out there. At least I’ll be able to say I tried.
He smiled at her. “Definitely.”
Shepard’s face immediately brightened.
Garrus took the encouragement and continued, “Part of me still thinks we’re crazy for even considering…blowing off steam. But I want to try it with you. I want a few moments that are just for us before we throw ourselves into hell for the good of the galaxy.”
“I want that too, Garrus.” No hesitation on her part.
She still wants me? She still wants me!
“Glad to hear it. I’ll do some uh…research, and figure out how to…you know…”
Shepard’s mouth screwed into a half-smile.
Garrus felt his neck flush. “Okay, that sounded bad.”
He kept waiting for the inevitable, for Shepard to realize they were better off just as friends, or maybe she just had a fetish for non-humans. In which case, there was another non-human guy aboard who was definitely cooler than him and probably never got nervous propositioning sex.
But Shepard didn’t say any of that. She just smiled at him, cheeks a little pink, and said, “See you tomorrow.”
And that’s how Garrus ended up in his cot in the back of the battery, dick out, doing “research.”
We’ve talked it through. She wants to do it; I definitely do want to do it, but it just seems so…messy? No. I’m lying to myself. Scary. The thought of going through with it is scary. Because we waited too long for this to just be a heat of the moment thing, so everything we do is going to be intentional. Can’t chalk it up to crazy hormones. But that’s good, right? It means we’re both choosing to progress our friendship into something…more? But what if it’s a shitshow and we stop being friends afterward...Stop. No more panicking. Just watch the damn porn.
Garrus told himself at the very least, he could get his rocks off. He pulled up the link Joker texted him.
How did Joker find out something was going on between them? Garrus thought he had been pretty good about keeping his feelings on the inside. Sure, he visited Joker in the cockpit now and then, but their conversations never got very deep. Did Shepard say anything? Unlikely. She was as closed-off about intimate stuff as he was. It probably was just old-fashioned nosiness. Being stuck in a confined space like the Normandy, everybody was bound to get into each other’s business. Whatever. It wasn’t relevant anyway. Garrus tapped the play button.
The video opened with a shot of a tree with some kind of yellow fruit hanging from its branches. The camera cut to a human man and a human woman wrapped up in an embrace. They waxed poetic about how much they loved their lemon tree and their lemons and how they hated the vile lemon-stealing whores that were out and about.
Behind them, a dastardly lemon-stealing whore ripped lemons off the couple’s tree and shoved them into her pink mesh bodysuit. The couple’s intuition kicked in and they checked on their lemon tree.
“HEY, WHAT THE FUCK,” the valiant man cried out.
The couple ran to confront the lemon-stealing whore. They proceeded to chastise the whore for her lemon-stealing ways through an exploration of the flesh.
Garrus watched the whole thing. By the end, he was squinting at the screen, mouth agape. His dick had retracted back into his body. He pulled up his chat with Joker.
GV: What the fuck was that
JM: LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
JM: Make sure to bring the commander some lemons. She’ll love it
GV: Are you mocking me
JM: You? Never! I’m just sharing an important cultural touchstone for humanity :D
GV: You suck, you know that?
JM: Yes but do I swallow? You’ll never know ;)
Garrus rolled his eyes as he closed out of the chat.
That’s it, no more taking suggestions. Gonna have to do my own research.
With a newfound motivation to learn about human intercourse on his own terms, he pulled up Fornax and searched “human woman interspecies.” The number of results might as well have been an infinity sign.
Spirits, humans will fuck just about anything. Is that a hanar?? How would you even…nope. Moving on.
Garrus clarified his search to “human woman turian man.” These results were a lot more manageable. Some of the thumbnails made him grimace. Not that they were anything particularly graphic or unsavory.
Thanks to Joker, he had learned he preferred humans with their clothes on. Their skin was soft in a way that instinctively made his stomach churn. It was like looking at an organ that wasn’t supposed to be on the outside. It should be covered by something tougher, more protective.
Garrus reminded himself this wasn’t about humans and their weird skin; it was about Shepard. His friend who was kind-of sort-of more than a friend. Maybe. If the sex went well.
He continued to scroll until one title made him guffaw. “First Sexual Contact War – Human Female Prison Guard gets DOMINATED by Turian Male POW.” The preview window showed the top comment, “Sex aside, this is actually pretty historically accurate.”
I mean, if it’s historically accurate…
He hit play. The male turian was sitting in a jail cell, hands cuffed to his cot. He was shirtless, showing off his arm and shoulder muscles. The cell looked like it belonged to an old Alliance cruiser – plain white walls that met at curved corners. A toilet in the corner. The human female guard approached the thick plexiglass that served as an observation window. She wore the old Alliance combat fatigues and had a rifle slung across her back.
Garrus paused the video and keyed back a few frames to see what rifle she was carrying. He scowled.
Historically accurate my ass. That rifle didn’t go into production until 3 years after the First Contact War had ended. It takes five minutes to look up, come on. You’re telling me they could get the right uniforms but not the right gun??
No longer caring about the plot, Garrus skipped forward to the sex. It honestly didn’t look that different from normal turian sex. The angle the woman was positioned at was a little more extreme, but nothing too crazy. It all seemed quite manageable on his end. But then Garrus paid attention to the audio.
For some reason, they had dubbed over the turian’s subvocals. He wasn’t making the normal sex subvocal noises. They were lower and rougher.
What the hell?
Maybe they had an issue with the audio during recording. He closed out of the vid and played a different one. Same thing. The subvocals had been dubbed over to sound deeper.
Is this some preference human women have??
Garrus pulled up a couple more from the search results. All the vids involving turian men and human women had the subvocals dubbed over to sound deeper and more aggressive.
What the fuck?? Nobody actually sounds like that during sex! Has Shepard been watching this too? Does she expect me to sound like that??
Garrus closed out of Fornax and stared at the ceiling.
Shepard knows real life isn’t like porn, right? Right? Maybe I can fake it. Yeah, I could totally fake it. Just focus on maintaining an unnatural subvocal range while also trying to enjoy sex that if it goes poorly will make my life hellishly uncomfortable for the foreseeable future. Maybe if it goes badly, we can all die on the suicide mission. That’d be nice. Wait, that wouldn’t be fair to the rest of the crew. Great, now I have to be good at sex because everyone’s lives depend on it.
Garrus groaned. He needed to stop thinking about it. Maybe he was catastrophizing, and Shepard hadn’t seen any of the vids he did. He slowly rationalized himself out of a panic attack. It would be fine. Everything would be totally fine. Whatever happened, he’d just have to try his best and hope his body didn’t betray him.
Not one to let a boner go to waste, Garrus reopened Fornax and pulled up his “old reliable.” He proceeded to have one of the more stressful wanks of his life, culminating in a rather disappointing orgasm. He fell asleep immediately after.
Twenty-four hours later, he stood outside the commander’s cabin with his dress blues on and a bottle of wine in hand.
Is it lame I’m in a military uniform? Why didn’t I buy normal clothes when I had the chance? Too late now. It is what it is.
It was go time. He knocked on Shepard’s door. No response. He knocked a second time. His omni tool dinged. It was a text from Shepard.
JS: Finishing getting ready. Come on in :)
The door slid open, and Garrus stepped inside her cabin. By military standards, it was an absurdly large space. The open-plan layout began with an office corner that flowed into a small lounge area, then into a bedroom against the back wall. But there was just so much dead space between the different areas.
The turian-designed Normandy maximized the space better.
To his left, an aquarium stretched down the wall. Save for a few plants and decorations, it was empty. Garrus was quietly glad Shepard had given up on restocking the tank. It was a mercy to the fish.
Off to his right was Shepard’s private bathroom. The shower was running.
Is that a hint? Am I supposed to join her?
He wrung the neck of the wine bottle, unsure what to do. The water shut off.
I’ll just wait ‘til she comes out.
Shepard stepped out of the bathroom wearing a tight black dress. For the first time in Garrus’s recollection, she had put on makeup. Her eyes looked bigger, greener. They shined with excitement. Garrus tried to not make it too obvious he was checking out the way her waist curved out into her hips.
Alright, just play it cool.
He held up the bottle. “Hey, I brought wine. Best I could afford on a vigilante’s salary.”
He glanced at the label. The turian label.
Oh shit, I forgot about the levo-dextro thing. She can’t drink this. Fuck. Skip the wine. What now? Uhhhhhh. Mood music.
Garrus ran over to Shepard’s media console, put down the wine, and threw up the first playlist he saw. Some random club beat started playing. When he looked back at Shepard, she was making her “get a load of this guy” face.
I’m being weird. I’ve had sex before; why am I being weird? Just hit on her like you would any turian woman.
“If you were a turian, I’d be complementing your waist or your fringe. So…your, uh, hair looks good, and your waist is…very supportive.”
AAAHHHHHHHHHHH!
Garrus knew he needed to just stop talking, but it was like his mouth had a will of its own. “Hopefully that’s not offensive in human culture-”
Mercifully, Shepard cut him off. “Woah! Consider me seduced, smooth talker. Now shut up and stop worrying.”
Oh thank the Spirits.
She leaned over to the media console and turned off the frankly ridiculous music. Garrus took the moment to collect his thoughts.
“I just…” It wasn’t any use trying to play it cool. He already blew that. This could only work if he was honest about his feelings, as mortifying as that felt. “I’ve seen so many things go wrong, Shepard. My work at C-Sec, what happened with Sidonis. I want something to go right. Just once.”
Shepard shifted on to her tiptoes and pushed her forehead toward Garrus. He pressed his forehead to hers. He felt a wave of relief wash over him.
If this is all we get to tonight, I’ll still be happy. Spirits, it’s been so long. Why did I wait so long?
Shepard’s hands crept up to cradle his face. She spoke slowly and deliberately. “This is going to go right because I need it to.” She looked him dead in the eyes. “I don’t think you understand how badly I need this.”
In response, all the blood in Garrus’s body redirected toward his crotch. Any higher-level thinking went offline. The hindbrain was in charge now. He picked Shepard up, his left arm supporting her under her butt, his right hand cupping the back of her neck. She locked her legs around his waist and kicked her shoes off. He made it into the office area of the cabin before he got too distracted. She kissed his forehead, his cheek, his mouth. Her hands ran along his mandibles.
Garrus sunk his face the base of her neck and drank in the scent of her pheromones. Just as he was really getting into it, Shepard’s palms sandwiched the sides of his head and ripped him away from her neck. Her eyes were shiny and wild.
“What are you doing?”
He couldn’t help but grin. “What are you doing?”
Her brow furrowed. “Open your mouth.”
The second Garrus complied, Shepard’s tongue was in there, tangling itself with his. Garrus took a few steps down a small set of stairs and got them into the sitting area of Shepard’s cabin. Shepard had moved on from his tongue and began exploring the sharpness of his teeth. She pressed a little too hard against one of his incisors. Garrus tasted copper.
Careful, he tried to say. But her tongue was still in his mouth, so it came out closer to, “Cah-huh.”
The translator probably didn’t pick that one up.
Garrus decided to play it safe and move things into her territory. He pushed his tongue into Shepard’s mouth and did some exploring of his own. Why not see just how far back in her mouth he could go? A small moan slipped out of Shepard. She started sucking on his tongue. Her legs wrapped tighter around his waist. Another rush of blood hit Garrus’s groin.
More more need more bed clothes off
Garrus shifted Shepard onto his forearm to free his hands. He ripped his gloves off and dropped them on the floor. By now, Shepard’s dress had ridden up to her hips. Garrus shifted Shepard again so that he was holding her ass with both hands. He had worried he’d find her bare skin off-putting. It wasn’t. It was warm and soft and inviting. He squeezed. Shepard responded by pressing her chest into his. She tugged at his jacket, looking for a way to take it off.
He put his mouth to her ear. “Left side. Under the flap.” He tried to suppress his ‘I’m being a shithead’ subvocals. “No, my left. Your right.”
Shepard’s face scrunched up. “Shut up, shut up, I see it now.”
As she undid his jacket clasps, Garrus carried her over to the bed, setting her down on it. They began to shed their clothes in a frenzy. Shepard finished undressing first. She rolled onto her side and watched Garrus undo the clasps on his pants. There were many.
As Garrus neared the last clasp, he looked up at Shepard. “You know what turians call these pants?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Hm?”
“Birth control.” He finally kicked his pants off his feet and flopped onto the bed next to Shepard.
She eyed his crotch. “Seems like it’s not very effective.”
His equipment had started to present itself but wasn’t yet ready to perform. His neck flushed, suddenly self-conscious.
“Turians…I…need more of a warm-up than human guys do.”
Shepard smiled wryly. “Human women need more of a warm-up than human guys do. That’s fine with me. Means you’ll return the favor.”
She swung her leg over Garrus’s hips so that she now straddled him. She resumed kissing him, grinding her hips against him as she did so. Garrus ran his hands up and down her back, mindful to avoid scratching her with his talons. Her skin was so soft compared to his.
Without the armor or uniform, Shepard seemed so much smaller, more delicate. What if he hurt her? But he could also feel just under her skin, her muscles flex and relax. He felt her hands run greedily along his head, his neck, his torso. He felt the heat radiating from between her legs. She felt so…alive.
Garrus was just starting to enjoy his erection when he became aware the buzzing noise in the background was coming from him.
Shit, how long have I been doing that?
He cut off his subvocals, hoping Shepard hadn’t noticed. She continued to kiss him, making her way up and down his neck. She hit the soft spot just below his mandibles.
Hhhhhllllllllllggg
The subvocals resumed their buzzing.
No! Bad subvocals! Stop!
He was enjoying this. He wanted to enjoy this. But he also didn’t want to embarrass himself with his subvocals, which were taking active concentration to tamp down. Garrus felt like his brain was going to split in half.
Shepard pulled away from him slightly. “You cool with mouth stuff?”
It took Garrus a second to realize Shepard was asking him a question. He shook his head.
“What does ‘mouth stuff’ mean? I like tongue stuff, but-“
“But you don’t have lips, so you don’t...” Shepard got a gleam in her eye. “Can I try something? We can do it like sparring. If you don’t like it, just tap, and I’ll stop.”
“Uh…okay. Yeah. Go for it.”
Garrus had no idea where this was going, but Shepard seemed really excited to do it, so it was probably fine. She gently pushed him down and started kissing a line from his neck to his chest to his stomach to his...
Garrus stifled a yelp.
She put the whole thing IN her mouth! She’s gonna bite my dick off! Wait, chill out, you trust her for a reason. She wouldn’t hurt you on purpose. Let’s see where this goes.
Garrus hovered one hand over her shoulder, ready to tap the second he felt teeth.
It felt good. Holy shit, it felt really good. His subvocals reacted accordingly. But it wasn’t the low growling sound they used in the porn vids. Not even the buzzing from earlier. It was a high-pitched whine. And it was loud. Garrus froze. Shepard froze. He felt his neck flush deep blue. He wouldn’t have been surprised if it went all the way up to his face.
Before he could react, Shepard got up and lay on top of him. She slid her right arm under his head and nuzzled her face into the side of his neck. Now her voice was low and husky.
“You like that?”
Was Garrus incredibly embarrassed? Yes. Did he want her to stop doing that thing with her mouth? Absolutely not. Garrus nodded. He didn’t trust his voice at the moment. He felt her cheek tighten in a smile.
“It’s fine, nobody’s gonna hear us.” With her free hand, she started stroking his dick.
With her saliva acting as lube it felt so good… His subvocals faintly picked back up. He almost tried to stop them.
Ugh whatever. Shepard clearly wasn’t turned off by it, so might as well do what felt natural.
By now he was good and hard again. She kept stroking him with her hand. His eyes flicked from her face to his dick. Still at it with the hand stuff. He put a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her downward.
Shepard disentangled herself from him and sat up on her knees, one eyebrow arched. “Do you want me to suck you off again?”
“Yes,” Garrus said sheepishly.
She pat his thigh. “Gotta use your words, babe.”
Garrus’s mandibles flared in a wide grin. “Oh, so I’m ‘babe’ now?”
Shepard blushed bright red. Her voice was barely above a mumble. “…Maybe.”
Before Garrus could press her on the new nickname, she dropped back down and took him in her mouth.
She was doing stuff with her tongue, and it was warm, and the feeling of her lips sliding up and down… His subvocals were going off the rails, which seemed to egg Shepard on, creating a feedback loop of ever-mounting pressure.
Garrus’s leg muscles tightened. He was close. He tucked his chin to look down at Shepard. She was already looking up at him. They made eye contact.
Oh fuck.
Garrus let his head drop back into the pillow and came.
Once he was spent, Shepard grabbed the wastebasket next to her bed and spat. She grabbed the cup of water waiting on her nightstand, gargled, then spat that too into the trash can. She sat up with a very self-satisfied grin.
“I take it you enjoyed your first blowjob.”
Garrus gave a thumbs up as his subvocals trailed off contentedly. He needed a minute to recover. Then the realization of what they just did hit. He jerked up in sudden panic.
“Oh shit. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. That felt really good. Are you going to be okay??”
Shepard wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I mean, I spat it out, didn’t I? Mordin’s got to be fucking with us. It can’t be that serious. Look, I’ll take a Benadryl if I feel anything.”
If Shepard dies from my cum, I’m gonna have to make a new alias and go back to Omega.
“What if you took a preventative Benadryl? Just in case.”
“Nah, it’d make me sleepy.” Shepard scooched up against the headboard and put her hands behind her head. “And I’m not missing out on my turn.”