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Relaxation

Summary:

Hawke thinks Shepard works too hard. He wants to give the commander a break.

Notes:

This is the first fanfiction I've ever written. Reviews are greatly appreciated!

Work Text:

Garrett Hawke sits with Ashley and Varric at the Afterlife bar on Omega. He takes a sip of his drink and listens to Varric as he tells yet another of his famous stories. He’s attracted quite the crowd, and not just with Lysander’s crew. By now, half of the bar is gathered around the small man as he explains how Lysander Shepard and he had single-handedly killed a thresher maw with nothing but a Carnifex Hand Cannon and half a magazine of thermal clips.

Garrett grins to himself as he takes a sip of his drink. The bright blue liquid burns in a pleasant way as it slips down his throat, leaving an exotic, fruity flavor behind. He keeps his thoughts to himself as he continues listening to Varric. His version of the story is rather different, but he lets the sniper have his moment; besides, it’s not like he doesn’t enjoy a little boost to his pride every now and again.

Though the fact remains true that Lysander and he defeated a thresher maw on Tuchanka, the details Varric gives are rather blown-up in proportion. Varric conveniently leaves out the fact that he was there as well. So was Kasumi, though he feels like the thief has no qualms about her being left out. There’s also the fact that while yes, their weapons were rather low on ammunition, they weren’t as bad off as Varric made them sound. Not enough to be worrisome, really. As if being attacked by a thousand-ton worm of death and destruction wasn’t worrisome enough. And without their guns, it’s not like they’re defenseless. He and Lysander both have their biotics, and Kasumi and Varric both have their omni-weapons as backup.

Hawke grins again as Varric continues. Currently, he’s on the brink of death, and is giving his dying words after being ‘fatally’ wounded by flying debris.

“And I say, ‘just make sure Bianca goes to a good home,’” he says, placing his hand on his forehead and leaning back. The crowd is leaning in, listening intently. The usually-noisy bar is quiet, save for the pounding music, as the storyteller continues. “But then, just as I see the light coming to take me, Shepard arrives with the last doses of medigel in his hands, swiftly bringing me back from the arms of death!”

There’s cheering all around, and Garrett can’t help but wonder how Varric entered the story if he and Lysander had ‘single-handedly’ slayed this beast. He laughs to himself and tips his glass back, finishing the last of his drink. He sets the now-empty glass in front of him with a soft clink, letting out a sigh. As Varric continues, he takes a glance down at his watch. Quarter past eight. Speaking of Lysander, where is he? He was supposed to be here a half-hour ago. He’s brought back to his senses by motion next to him as Ashley takes a seat next to him.

“Something tells me that all that Varric says isn’t exactly what happened,” she says, grinning amiably. “I thought I’d just come over here and get some info from a more reliable source.”

“What, you don’t think that it’s true that Lysander and I set off a biotic explosion so large, half of the thresher was blown away?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Do you not believe that I’m the biotic god that Varric makes me out to be? I for one am insulted. Now is the appropriate time to bow down and lavish me with praises.”

Ashley rolls her eyes, playfully punching him in the arm. “That’s not happening,” she says. “I’ll buy you a drink at most. I’ll leave the worshiping you to Varric. And maybe Lysander.”

“Hm. I don’t think I’d mind that in the slightest. Either of those,” he replies with a mischievous grin.

“Oh, get over yourself.” She punches him in the arm again and they both share a laugh. “What’re you having? Turian Blue? Or is that the asari stuff? I can never remember which is which.”

“Turian,” Garrett says, looking down at the last tinges of blue at the bottom of his glass. “Asari light is too sweet. It’s like drinking alcoholic candy. If I wanted something that sweet, I’d just come and seek you out, now wouldn't I.”

“Ass,” Ashley says with a roll of her eyes. She waves the bartender and orders Garrett his drink and herself a glass of whiskey. They arrive, and they both take a few sips. “If Kaidan hears you talking like that, he’ll tear you a new one. Shep too, for that matter. Speaking of which, where is Shep? I thought he was supposed to be here.”

“I don’t think I’d mind Lysander tearing into me one bit. We do both like it a bit rough,” Garrett says with a smirk, leaning close to whisper in Ashley’s ear. He bursts out laughing when he sees her expression of pure shock, the soldier doing a spit take into her glass. She coughs, leaning an arm on the counter as she struggles to regain her breath.

“I swear, Hawke,” she says, grabbing a napkin to wipe off her mouth. She takes one look at her drink, now bubbly and frothy in all the wrong ways, and pushes it aside. “I’m going to choke you one of these days, I swear to god.”

“You know, Lysander’s given me a lot of practice with that, so I think I’ll take my chances.”

“You’re impossible.”

Garrett laughs, enjoying the disgruntled look that Ashley is giving him. He picks up his drink and downs it one go. He glances again down at his watch and sighs. He scoots out of the seat, stretching as he stands up.

“You know, I think I’m going to head back to the ship,” he says.

“Already?” Ashley asks, furrowing her brow. “We got here a half-hour ago, and who knows when we’re going to have shore leave again?”

“I might be back later,” Garrett says with a shrug. “I’m just going to go check up on Lysander. See what’s keeping him so long.”

“I see,” Ashley says with a smirk. “You’re wanting to practice what you preach, huh?”

“Something like that,” Garrett replies with a grin. “Keep an eye on Varric for me, will you? Make sure he’s not going around making wagers in my name. I’m not exactly keen on challenging anyone else to challenges of biotic strength.”

“Hey Hawke, will you come here for a second? I got someone for you to meet,” he hears Varric call from across the bar.

“I think that’s your cue to leave,” Ashley says. “Go and see if you can convince Shepard to actually come off the Normandy for once. God knows he could use the break.”

Garrett thanks the soldier for the drink and the chat before making his way back to the ship.

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Garrett steps out of the elevator, the doors closing behind him with a hiss. He places his hand on the door to Lysander’s room, thankful that he’s left it unlocked. He enters and sees Lysander still at his desk, an assortment of datapads scattered around his terminal. He watches as Lysander runs a hand through his short hair, a sigh of frustration escaping his lips.

Grinning slightly, Garrett silently creeps up to the commander. He leans down and wraps his arms around his lover’s neck, resting his chin on his shoulder. Lysander jumps in surprise, letting out a yelp as he drops the datapad he was holding. Before he can react, Lysander is out of his seat, Garrett’s right arm is bent behind his back, and his cheek is pressed into the desk’s surface. He feels a hand on the back of his neck, and the smell of burning eezo fills the air as Lysander’s biotics flare up. Datapads are knocked onto the floor, and the terminal tips over onto Garrett’s head.

“Glad to see you, too,” Garrett says, cracking a smile even though his arm feels like it’s about to be wrenched off. “You know, if you wanted me bent over the desk for you, you just had to ask.”

“Dammit Garrett, don’t sneak up on me like that,” Lysander says with an exasperated sigh. Realizing who it is, he lets loose of his hold on the slighter man. “How many times do I have to tell you not to do that? I could have seriously hurt you!”

“Ah, but you didn’t, and that’s all that really counts, right? Besides, it’s not like that’s a position with which I’m unfamiliar with you around,” Garrett says, pulling himself off of the desk. Lysander goes about reorganizing everything, gathering up the spilled datapads and reorienting the terminal.

“I swear, Garrett, you’re going to be the death of me one day,” Lysander says, once again taking a seat. He plops down into the chair and stares at the materials in front of him, wishing that it all would just disappear. Couldn’t someone else handle this for once?

“You know, Ashley said the same thing not ten minutes ago,” Garrett says, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around Lysander’s neck. He nuzzles his head in close to his lover’s, his beard scratching against Lysander’s stubble in a most pleasant way. “So why, dear commander, are you still up here in your room? You were supposed to come to Afterlife with the rest of us.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Lysander says, closing his eyes and leaning up against Garrett. He wraps his arms around Garrett’s and holds him close, enjoying the warmth of his lover’s embrace. “I just…I have work to do. A lot of it. I’ve still got to assemble a report for the Illusive Man on how recruitment went. Then there’s the report on Horizon I’ve still got to finish, I’ve got to get the ship armor upgrades finalized, there’s getting you and your crew paid for the month, and I’ve got to turn the resources we’ve been collecting into something we can actually use. I guess…I just want it to be perfect. I need to get everything organized and under control before I go out.”

“It’s all fine,” Garrett says, tilting his head and planting a soft kiss on Lysander’s cheek. “You work too hard. The work will still be there when you get back. C’mon, it’s our only opportunity for some time together. And what did I tell you about paying us? We’re all helping of our own volition. We’re a merc band, yeah, but we owe you all our lives. You got us out of a really hairy situation here on Omega, remember? Just ignore Isabella. She’d try to take the shoes off a homeless man.”

Lysander laughs, a deep rumbling laugh that reverberates through Garrett’s body. He smiles, glad to see something on Lysander’s face besides exhaustion. “I know you don’t want to be paid, but it’s the least I can do for you. You’ve returned the favor more than you can ever realize. Plus, I don’t see why you’re protesting to having a few extra credits on your chit.”

“True. I guess that’s all the more I can spend buying Ramen and model ships at the Citadel,” Garrett says. “You know what else it’s good for? Buying you drinks at Afterlife. Can’t you just take a little break?”

“I can’t just leave in the middle of this, Garrett. Maybe if I just finished up this last little bit…but then there’s also the other report that I have to do, and that needs to get done soon. And the turians still want their-“

“Lysander, your work will be there waiting for you when we get back. Can’t you just take a little break for a few hours? Though if you’re really opposed to going out, I’m sure there’s a lot that we can do right in here.” Garrett purrs, planting a kiss on the sensitive flesh of Lysander’s neck. “Whatever you want, Commander.”

“Garrett, if you’re implying what I think you’re implying, I really don’t have time for-“ Lysander stifles a moan as Garrett starts kissing his neck, biting gently and running his tongue over the bites to soothe them. He releases his hold long enough to spin Shepard’s chair around, dropping to his knees between Shepard’s legs. With a sultry smirk, Garrett leans forward and mouths the bulge in Lysander’s pants, feeling the growing hardness there. He grabs Lysander’s shirt and untucks it from his pants, running his hands up underneath the cloth to feel the warm, hard planes of Lysander’s muscular chest.

“Are you sure you couldn’t spare just a few moments?” he asks, looking up at Lysander with a pouty expression on his face. He leans down to plant a kiss on Lysander’s erection, still running his hands on his chest.

“Well…maybe for a little bit,” Lysander replies. He reaches down and takes hold of Garrett’s chin, tilting his head up to meet his eyes. He smiles and leans down to the other biotic, kissing him soundly. He stands up and guides Garrett to do the same, wrapping his arms around the taller man once they’re both standing.

Lysander reaches up to pull Garrett’s head down into a soft kiss, intertwining his fingers in the other’s hair as Garrett wraps his arms around him. It’s a simple, chaste thing, each wanting to show the other the affection they’d been so acutely lacking the past few days. They pull apart after a few seconds, grinning at each other like a pair of star-crossed idiots. Maker knows it’s not going to stay that pure, though. Lysander closes the gap between them, pulling Garrett into a deeper kiss. He lightly runs his tongue over Garrett’s lower lip, savoring the soft moan that escapes his mouth as he does so. Garrett’s lips part and Lysander happily obliges, running his tongue along the inside of Garrett’s mouth. He tastes the alcohol Garrett had earlier consumed.

“Turian Blue?” he asks, pulling away and grinning up at Garrett. “Didn’t think you liked it that strong.”

“I like all sorts of strong things,” Garrett returns with a smirk as Lysander brings him down to the kiss once more.

The pair’s desire for each other grows, the kiss collapsing into beard and teeth and stubble. Garrett feels Lysander’s hands leave his hair and lower to his sides, grabbing at the bottom of his shirt. Understanding the intention, he pulls away and raises his arms over his head, Lysander pulling his shirt off in one smooth motion.

Quick as a flash, Lysander is back upon him. He pushes Garrett’s back up against the wall of his cabin, diving into Garrett’s neck. The cool metal of the cabin wall provides a stark contrast to the heat of Lysander’s body as he presses up against the taller man. Lysander peppers his neck with kisses and bites, marks undoubtedly showing that Ashley will tease him about later. Garrett feels Shepard put a knee between his legs, gently pressing against his rapidly-hardening cock.

“Lysander,” Garrett groans, running his hands up Lysander’s chest under his shirt, and Lysander growls his approval. He feels the muscles move and shift as the man kisses his neck, closing his eyes in pleasure. Lysander pulls away long enough for Garrett to remove his shirt, tossing it aside before resuming his assault on Garrett’s neck.

Lysander’s skin is like fire against his own, hot and damp with sweat. Garrett lightly runs his thumbs over Lysander’s nipples, earning another pleased noise from the man. He tweaks the hard nubs between his fingers, laughing a bit when Lysander gives him a bite with a little extra force in return.

“You know, I can’t help but feel that we’re rather overdressed for this occasion,” Garrett says, looking down at Lysander.

“Couldn’t agree more.” The two men part and remove the last offending articles of clothing, tossing them haphazardly around the room. Before long, both men stand bare as the day they were born, admiring the sight of each other’s bodies.

Garrett stands a few inches taller than Lysander, his body thin and lithe. Everything is covered in a light dusting of dark fuzzy hair, a fact that Lysander finds rather enjoyable. His dark brown eyes are filled with mischief and no small amount of want for Lysander.

What Lysander lacks in height he makes up for in stature. The vanguard’s body is made of hard and dense muscle, the contours of his body sharp and angular. He’s got body hair as well, though nowhere near the amount that covers Garrett. He looks at Garrett with a look of almost predatory desire, pupils dilated and lids heavy.

Lysander takes the steps forward to close the distance between him and Garrett, pulling him into a rough kiss. He grinds his hips forward, frotting his erection against Garrett’s and elicits a low moan from the man. Garrett runs his hands along Lysander’s chest as he kisses him, Lysander’s tongue exploring the inside of his mouth. Garrett works his hands lower, taking Lysander’s cock into his hands. He gives it long, slow strokes as Lysander growls in pleasure.

Garrett smirks as he begins to lower himself, trailing kisses down Lysander’s body as he sinks to his knees. Lysander initially gives a whine of protest as Garrett pulls his lips away from his own before he realizes what he’s doing. Garrett feels a hand placed upon his head, moving to gently stroke his hair. He tilts his chin up to look at Lysander and grins at the man before turning his attention back to his cock.

Lysander’s cock hangs hot and heavy in front of him, a musky aroma permeating the air around it. Garrett grabs ahold and angles it upwards, giving a slow lick from base to tip. The grip on his hair tightens as Lysander groans, causing Garrett to grin. He gives the head another lick, a dollop of salty pre falling onto his tongue.

“Dammit Garrett, are you just going to tease me all night?” Lysander asks, his voice low and rough. He receives only a smirk in reply. Garrett leans forward and places his lips on the tip of Lysander’s cock, and moves his head back when Lysander tries to push forward.

“You are, aren’t you?” Lysander asks, Garrett laughing as he keeps his mouth just out of Lysander’s reach.

“And just what are you going to do about it?” Garrett asks, laughing at Lysander’s frustration.

Lysander whines, and Garrett takes pity on the dear commander. He grins and leans forward to take Lysander’s length into his mouth, sucking gently as he licks at the head. He brings his hand up to stroke the shaft, Shepard groaning and muttering a few quiet curses. Garrett closes his eyes and savors Lysander’s taste. With how hectic things have been for the both of them, they’d had barely any time to be at all…intimate. And mostly, they were both too tired to do anything besides collapse into the bed and fall into a deep sleep.

Lysander moves his hand to the back of Garrett’s neck, gently urging him farther down his dick. Garrett is happy to oblige, each dip of his head going deeper than the last. He breathes through his nose, taking in as much of Lysander’s scent as he can. Lysander is above average in terms of both length and thickness, and Garrett feels his jaw stretch to accommodate his size. Even so, he doesn’t stop until he feels his nose press into the wiry hair of Lysander’s pubes. He sucks and licks until he feels his gag reflex kick in, having to take Lysander fully out of his mouth as he coughs, a thin line of spit still connecting his mouth to Lysander’s dick.

“Sorry. It’s been a while since we’ve, eh, practiced,” he says, grinning sheepishly up at Lysander.

“Don’t apologize,” Lysander says with a strained smile. “You’re fucking amazing.”

“So I’m assuming you want me to continue?” Garrett asks, a sly smirk returning to his face as he once again places his lips mere millimeters from the tip of Lysander’s cock. The commander feels Garrett’s warm breath against his painfully hard dick, using all of his restraint not to just take hold of his head and fuck his mouth until he came down his throat.

“I swear, if my cock’s not in your mouth in the next ten seconds, I’m throwing you out the airlock,” Lysander says, his dick throbbing in front of Garrett’s face.

“Is that an order, Shepard?” Garrett asks, cocking an eyebrow mischievously.

“You bet your ass it is,” Lysander replies.

“Why don’t you spell it out for me?” Garrett asks, lightly running his tongue on the underside of Lysander’s cock. Without warning, Lysander grabs Garrett’s jaw and hauls him to his feet, pulling him into a hard kiss, teeth biting down on his lower lip. Pulling away, Lysander’s steely eyes seem to bore into Garrett’s skull.

“I want you to get on your knees and suck my cock with that hot mouth of yours,” Lysander says, his tone rough and commanding. “That’s an order.”

“Aye-aye, Commander,” Garrett says. He supposes that was clear enough. He drops to his knees with a grin, lowering his head to once more take Lysander into his mouth. The commander groans, fisting his hands in Garrett’s hair as he goes to work, motivated by a steady string of encouragement and cursing spilling from Lysander’s mouth. His own erection lies hard and neglected between his own legs, and he reaches down to stroke himself, Lysander’s taste and his own strokes bringing him close to the edge.

He feels Lysander begin to tense up, and he increases his pace before Lysander pulls away.

“Oh no,” Lysander says, reaching down and bringing Garrett to his feet. “Don’t you think I’m going to be finished that quickly.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Garrett replies, pulling Lysander in for a kiss. “Is it too soon to ask to be bent over the desk again?”

Lysander smirks and spins Garrett around, maneuvering him over to the edge of his desk. He pushes Garrett down so his chest lies flush to the surface, placing his hand on his neck to keep him that way. Garrett turns his head to get a good look at Lysander, the heat in the other man’s eyes spiking his own arousal to new levels. Lysander grinds his hips forward and runs his cock down the cleft of Garrett’s ass, rubbing against his entrance. Garrett moans and braces his palms on the desk, pressing his hips back against Lysander’s.

Lysander bends down and tilts his head to kiss Garrett, still rubbing against him with slow movements. Lysander’s lips are soon replaced by his fingers as he moves his hand to Garrett’s mouth.

“Suck,” he orders simply. Garrett opens his mouth to allow Lysander access, sucking and licking his fingers to coat them in a layer of saliva. He closes his eyes and lets out a breath as he feels Lysander poke around the inside of his mouth.

Soon, the fingers are removed from his mouth, and Lysander leans down to kiss him once more. He feels a blunt finger circle his entrance, slicked by his own saliva. Lysander teases, but never puts pressure where Garrett so sorely needs it. He’s stuck between wanting to ask Lysander for more and not wanting to break the kiss. He rolls his hips into Lysander’s touch, silently begging him to stop teasing. He makes small whimpers of need, and Lysander chuckles.

“It’s not so much fun being the one being teased, now is it?” Lysander asks, grinning slyly.

“Maker’s breath, Shepard,” Garrett groans, Lysander’s firm hold on him preventing him from doing anything but await his next move. Thankfully, he feels a finger slowly push into him, and he moans, the sound low and full of pleasure and relief. Lysander gently strokes him, withdrawing only to come back deeper. Garrett whines as a second finger is added, and again several minutes later when a third pushes in. He reaches out to grab the edges of the desk, practically melting under Lysander’s touch.

“You have no idea how fucking sexy you look right now,” Lysander purrs in Garrett’s ear. “Panting, shaking, moaning…and I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

Lysander curls his fingers, brushing a spot inside Garrett’s body that makes him cry out, his vision going white with pleasure. He nearly blows his load on the spot, his knuckles going white as he fights to maintain composure. He loosens his grip when he feels the pressure inside him die down, panting and sweating from exertion. He wants Lysander inside of him when he reaches that point.

“Lysander, please,” Garrett manages, his voice catching in his throat. He can’t stand to wait any longer. He wants--no, needs Lysander inside of him. He needs that connection, needs Lysander, inside him and around him.

“What is it, Garrett?” Lysander asks, a grin on his face as he twists his fingers in a way that sends pleasure again shooting through Garrett’s body. “What do you need?”

“I…I need you to…” Garrett trails off into incomprehensible babbling as Lysander again brushes that spot, his whole body trembling with arousal.

“What was that?” Lysander asks, a bemused expression on his face.

“I need you to…to…fuck…” Garrett again dissolves into moans as Lysander laughs.

“One more time, love. I don’t think I caught that last bit.”

“Andraste’s tits, Lysander, would you just fuck me already?” Garrett manages, surprising himself with the ability to form a coherent sentence. “I need you inside me.”

“Well when you put it that way, how can I refuse?” Lysander pulls his fingers out of Garrett’s hole. Lysander lets go of Garrett for a few moments to rummage through a few of his desk drawers. After what seems like two eternities, he finally finds what he’s looking for.

“You know, both of us know that I couldn’t care less if you didn’t use lube,” Garrett says, pushing himself up as Lysander pops the bottle open. “I’m not made of paper, you know.”

“I know, but I still don’t want to hurt you,” Lysander says, squeezing some of the gel into his hand. He rubs some of the slick fluid onto his cock, the cold gel causing him to gasp. He then spreads some on Garrett’s ass, pressing a few fingers in to make sure he gets sufficiently covered. He shoves Garrett back down onto the desk, leaning down to nibble on his neck. “Besides. You’ll be screaming my name either way. Why should it matter?”

Garrett’s response is cut short when he feels something much larger than Lysander’s fingers press at his entrance. He groans and grabs the edge of the desk again, Lysander putting one hand on his neck and the other on his hip. Lysander pushes forward slowly but surely, once again resisting the urge to force himself in and fuck Garrett silly. Once he’s in, there’ll be time for…rougher ministrations, but there’s no use forcing the moment.

Lysander finally pushes in, his cock pushing past the tight ring of muscle. Lysander curses and Garrett moans, the wet heat of Garrett’s ass almost too much for Lysander. He grips Garrett’s hip hard as he inches forward, slowly pushing forward until he’s bottomed out. Garrett feels stretched in the best of ways. The two men pant, basking in the feeling of the other for the moment.

Slowly, Lysander begins to pull out, stopping when only the tip of his cock remains inside Garrett’s ass. Steeling his resolve, he shoves himself back in with one quick motion, earning a gasp from Garrett. Lysander begins to set a steady rhythm of thrusting, Garrett making the most wonderful sounds below him. Garrett moans, Lysander’s every stroke striking something inside him that makes him see stars. The pain fades away as pleasure fills Garrett’s body, settling in his bones as a pleasant warmth.

As Garrett relaxes around his dick, Lysander begins to quicken his rhythm. He grits his teeth and fists his hand in Garrett’s hair, grunting as he pistons in and out of Garrett’s hole. He looks down at the man panting out his name, lust-filled brown eyes meeting his own and raising his arousal even higher.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Lysander groans. To Garrett’s dismay, he feels him pull out, leaving him with a feeling of emptiness. He feels hands on his hips, urging him to flip over. He stands up and turns to face Lysander, the man pulling him into a kiss as Garrett backs himself to a sitting position on the desk.

“You know, you make such sexy faces when you get fucked,” Lysander says with a smirk, lifting Garrett’s legs into the air as he enters him once more. “And though I love seeing your ass bared to me when you’re bent over, it’s hard to get a good look at you like that.”

Garrett can only groan as Lysander resumes the relentless pounding of his hole. Every hard thrust sends the desk banging into the wall, and he’s rather thankful that most of the crew is currently off of the ship. He’s rather surprised the thing has managed to stay standing. It’s seen a lot of…use in the past months he’s been with Lysander.

He bites his lip in attempts to silence himself. His efforts are for naught, as he cries out in pleasure when Lysander’s cock slams against his prostate. Lysander holds onto Garrett’s hips, his fingers digging into his skin. Finally able to reach, Garrett moves his hand to his own neglected manhood. He times his own strokes with Lysander’s thrusts, bringing himself close to the edge in no time.

“C’mon Shep, harder! I’m not going to break,” Garrett moans. Lysander responds in stride, lewd slapping noises filling the room as Lysander’s pace roughens. “Maker, I’m fucking close…”

“I’m not going to last much longer either,” Lysander says, panting as sweat drips down his face. He leans down to pull Garrett into a hard kiss, moving a hand to bat Garrett’s hand away from his cock. He begins to stroke the man, Garrett’s precum and some residual lube providing slickness. Garrett wraps his arms tight around Lysander, feeling a familiar tightness in his balls.

“Lysander, I’m—“ Garrett’s warning morphs into a cry of pleasure as he reaches orgasm. His biotics flare up as he feels hot come splatter across his and Lysander’s chest, toes clenching and eyes squeezing shut.

Garrett’s flaring biotics hit nodes in Lysander’s body that he didn’t even know existed. His own react and spike at the sudden surge of energy, the room filled with a blue-purple glow and the smell of burning eezo as the two surround themselves in an aura of biotic power. As Garrett’s ass clenches around Lysander’s cock, he’s sent over the edge. With one last thrust, he shoves himself deep into his lover’s ass, coming with a roar. Garrett feels a warm spurting inside him as Lysander floods his insides with his cum.

Lysander collapses onto Garrett, pulling him into a sloppy kiss as he pants, holding him as close as possible.

“God, I love you,” Lysander breathes, closing his eyes and resting his head on Garrett’s chest, feeling its rise and fall as they both regain their breaths. His cock softens and slips out of Garrett’s ass as the biotic field around them dies away. Lysander feels more relaxed than he has been in a very long time.

“I love you too,” Garrett says, snuggling in close to Lysander, a contented smile on his face. “Now…as much as I’d like to stay here for the rest of the evening, or at least for round two, I’ve got at least six datapads sticking into by back right now, and I’m pretty sure at least one of them has snapped in half.”

“Shit, sorry,” Lysander says, quickly scrambling to pull himself off of Garrett. He helps him to a standing position, chuckling and reaching out to steady him as Garrett wobbles on his feet. “Glad to see I did a good job.”

Garrett glares at him and shrugs out of his hold, Lysander only laughing harder as they survey the collateral on the desk. Luckily, the worst damage was a cracked screen and some interesting marks on Garrett’s back. A few of the datapads closer to the edge had fallen off, and they take a few moments to clean up after themselves, Lysander fetching a towel from the bathroom to clean up any residual fluids.

“So,” Garrett begins, “I’m thinking we continue your night off by joining the rest of the crew at Afterlife. After we clean up a bit, that is. I doubt Samara would appreciate seeing us as we currently are.”

Lysander sighs. “But I still have so much work to do,” he says with a frown, glancing over at the stacks of glowing screens still on his desk.

“Oh, enough with the work talk,” Garrett says, rolling his eyes. “You’ve just spent the past however long fucking my brains out, and you’re already back to that.”

“Garrett…”

“No, I get it,” Garrett says, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation. “I’m not wanted here. I’ll just go back alone. By myself. With nobody to help me in case I get mugged by batarians. I’ll just sit in an alley and cry for six hours after they beat me up and steal my credit chit, spending everything on cheap alcohol and hookers. Ugly ones, too.”

“Alright, alright,” Lysander says, smiling as he pulls Garrett back into his embrace. “You’ve convinced me. I’ll go with you back to Omega and protect you from all the ruffians.”

“My knight in shining armor,” Garrett says, kissing Lysander softly. “What would I ever do without you?”

“Blow yourself up, probably,” Lysander replies.

“Yeah, that’s probably true. But hey, at least I’d look cool doing it. It’s a nice flashy way to go out, you know?” Garrett laughs and pulls Lysander into the bathroom, starting up the shower. “Now let’s get cleaned up and head out. The night is young, Lysander. There’s much to do. Like me, for instance. And then again. And maybe a third time. Well, fourth if you count just now.”

“Ass.”

“Oh, shut up. You love my ass.”

“Wouldn’t trade it for the world.” They both share a laugh as they step under the warm spray of water, helping each other wash off the residue from their activities. They finish quickly and dry off, redressing themselves after spending fifteen minutes searching for clothes for Lysander that aren’t military uniforms or armor. As much as Garrett loves a man in uniform, it’s not exactly the kind of thing that one would wear to a bar.

They finally leave the ship, walking hand in hand. They spend the rest of the night laughing, drinking, and joking with the others back at Afterlife, perhaps sneaking in a kiss or two when nobody is watching. The night is unfortunately but short when a drunk turian thinks it would be a great idea to start pelting people with handfuls of Red Sand, forcing an evacuation of the area.

“Maker’s breath,” Garrett coughs as he and Lysander rush out of the bar. He feels his head spin, having breathed in a bit of the drug before they’d made their escape. He feels his head spin, a lightheaded euphoria coming over him as Lysander leads him to a bench. He stumbles before finally sitting down, a daft smile on his face.

“Garrett, are you alright?” Lysander asks, taking Garrett’s face in his hands and moving his head to look at him. Garrett’s eyes are unfocused, and he blinks rapidly as he tries to stop the world from spinning. Lysander sounds far away. “Are you hurt? How much of that shit did you inhale? I swear, if that turian asshole hurt you, I’m going to rip him to fucking shreds.”

As the turian is escorted out by guards, Garrett is vaguely aware of Lysander standing up, flaring his biotics as he makes a move to go confront the guy. Garrett reaches a hand up to stop him, his addled mind slowly coming back into focus. The effects of Red Sand are nothing if not incredibly short-lived, and he didn’t take in much.

“I’m fine, Lysander,” he says, pulling the man back down to him. “Really, I’m good. Just a little…dizzy. Don’t go and start something, now. I doubt Aria would like you stirring up more trouble, as fun as it would be to see just how fine of a mist you could warp that guy into.”

Lysander lets out a sigh of relief, and hugs Garrett close to him. “God, I was worried,” he says. “Red Sand is…bad. It messes you up.”

“I know, I know, there’s no need to lecture me on the danger of illegal drugs,” Garrett says with a laugh. “Stay in school, don’t sandblast, eat your vegetables and all that.”

Lysander sighs, and Garrett rests his head on his shoulder. “Maybe a night in would be a better idea for tonight,” the vanguard says, watching as the turian is lead away with no small amount of anger in his eyes.

“Agreed,” Garrett says. Once he feels steady enough, they start to make their way back to the Normandy. “We could find a vid to watch on the extranet or something.”

“I just downloaded a copy of the new Blasto movie off of the extranet, if you’re interested,” Lysander says with a shrug.

“Is that even out yet?” Garrett asks, furrowing his brow. “The thing was just released, like…a week ago.”

“Perhaps,” Lysander says with a mischievous glint in his eye. “What’re you going to do, arrest me?”

“I don’t think I’d object to seeing you in handcuffs,” Garrett replies, grinning suggestively as they board the ship.

“Is that so?” Lysander asks. “Maybe we’ll have to give that a try. I’m sure I could filch something from C-Sec next time we’re at the Citadel.”

The pair retires to Lysander’s room, stripping to their smallclothes as they climb into bed. Garrett curls up against Lysander as he brings the vid up on his omni-tool, a small hologram popping up as the opening credits begin to roll.

Garrett doesn’t make it through half of the vid before he’s out cold. Lysander looks down at his sleeping form, smiling as he gently strokes his lover’s hair. He pauses the vid and closes out, the fish tank light providing a soft glow that fills the room. Lysander wraps his arms around Garrett and pulls him close, the man cuddling in close to his chest and making a small satisfied noise.

“Good night, love,” Lysander whispers softly to Garrett, closing his eyes and drifting off into a deep sleep with a content grin on his face.