Chapter Text
Garrus was on his way to the showers when he stopped short. Two figures stood in the hall ahead of him. The sight of the ship’s Commander and the turian Spectre standing together set his teeth on edge.
Shepard leaned casually against the wall, navy fatigues hugging her slender frame. Spectre agent Saren Arterius stood next to her, too close for Garrus’s comfort. The older turian's back was turned, but he hovered over Shepard possessively. Garrus knew he was devouring Shepard with those mechanical eyes of his. Shepard was looking up at him through her eyelashes, a small smile curving the edges of her lips as she put her hand on Saren’s arm.
Garrus knew enough about human body language to know that she was trying to entice Saren. Part of him was disgusted at the thought of the Spectre touching her. It was so wrong.
Another part of him was incredibly interested. He’d heard the human crew talk. Shepard was apparently quite attractive by human standards. With so many options available to her, he'd always dismissed the idea of her wanting a turian.
A rather insistent throbbing behind his plates reminded him that some parts of him were less willing to let it go.
Shepard glanced over Saren’s shoulder and spotted him. She smiled brightly.
Garrus gave her a strained smile of his own. On any other day, at any other time, he’d be basking in the warm glow of her attention. But right now, he was not at all confident in his ability to keep his arousal out of his voice.
Saren glanced back slowly, deliberately, somehow casual and threatening at the same time. Two blue pinpoints of light bored into Garrus’s eyes, like a sniper's sighting laser honing in on a target.
Garrus felt a twinge of trepidation, but refused to let the other turian see it. He waited for the Spectre to say something. Instead, Saren looked him up and down, then turned away in a pointed dismissal. Garrus fought the urge to bristle at the insult.
The Spectre leaned in towards Shepard and rumbled something in her ear, too low for Garrus to hear, but there was no mistaking the lust in his subtones. Shepard laughed.
A knot tightened in Garrus’s chest. He loved hearing Shepard laugh, clear and bright and resonant. It was a rare, beautiful sound, hard to elicit and gone far too quickly. But hearing her laugh and knowing it was for Saren made him feel positively sick inside. It chafed him to see them together on the best of days, and this wasn’t one of those.
He slipped by them quickly, unable to bear it any longer, but not before the other turian locked eyes with him again. Garrus knew he wasn’t imagining the look of smug satisfaction in the Spectre’s eyes.
Damn him, he thought, determined not to let his anger show.
He scowled to himself, thinking of that pale bastard. Saren was a cold, condescending, ruthless son of a bitch. The exact opposite of Shepard. What does she see in him?
Yes, Saren was one of the Council’s top Spectres. Even Garrus had to admit that he got the job done, no matter what the cost. In another place and time, he might even have respected the older turian for it. But after meeting Shepard, it was obvious who was the better Spectre.
When she completed a mission, she had no avoidable casualties, no collateral damage. She could convince a merc to give up the gang life and go home. Sometimes she could do it without firing a single shot. He'd never seen anything like it, not even working for C-Sec. It was hard for Garrus to imagine that she had anything in common with Saren, other than that the Council had accepted them both as operatives.
Garrus didn’t know how she put up with him. Most humans considered turians uptight and aggressive, but Saren was abrasive even by turian standards. There were rumors he’d publicly humiliated former Blackwatch operatives for minor infractions just out of spite. He never saw any need to hide his reputation as a human-hating turian supremacist.
Garrus remembered when he'd first heard the rumors of the new human Spectre candidate. He'd felt a moment's pity for the poor human who’d gotten stuck dealing with Saren. The most common wager in the office betting pool was that she’d be gone in under a month. Some people even whispered that the last human Spectre candidate ended up with Saren, too, and hadn’t lasted a single mission before being unceremoniously rejected. Garrus wouldn't have been surprised. He just wasn't sure if it was a calculated way to stick it to the humans or the Council’s incompetence. Either way sounded equally plausible.
Saren only ever trained a handful of candidates in his entire Spectre career. Even fewer passed his evaluations. So when Shepard, a human female, became the first human Spectre under his watch, it ignited a firestorm of speculation. Everyone wondered how she convinced him, but neither Spectre ever spoke about it.
Garrus turned the corner, entering the showers. They were blessedly empty. He slunk to the furthest one, grateful to avoid the nervous glances the human crew threw him whenever they shared the showers.
When he'd first come aboard, Garrus had wondered how she changed Saren's mind, himself. After seeing them together, though, he had a pretty good idea of what might have happened.
At first, he'd found it strange how much time she spent in Saren's company, given his reputation. Then he'd noticed how they were always so close to one another any time they were in the same room. He'd caught their lingering touches and eye contact held just slightly too long.
And he'd have to be blind and deaf not to notice how Saren acted around her, how he looked at her. It was enough to make his blood boil, and not just with anger.
He stripped his armor off quickly. Freed of its constraints, his erection slipped out unhindered by his long retreated groin plates.
Garrus sighed with relief, glad he waited until mid-shift. The pressure was starting to get nearly unbearable. He didn’t think he would’ve been able to hold himself back even if someone else had been there. Humans got funny about things like that, and the last thing he wanted was to draw more attention to himself today.
He stepped into the shower stall, turning on the water. His erection gave a hard pulse and he gave himself a long stroke, wishing it was her hand instead.
It was hard enough just being on the ship with her. There was something about her. He couldn’t put a name to it, that bright flame that drew him in irresistibly. He’d never met another woman like her. She was everything he’d ever wanted, everything he’d never known he needed until he met her. He’d never been attracted to humans before, but Shepard... Shepard was different.
He couldn't help but wonder how her ecstasy looked. Every time she spoke, his eyes went to her lips, imagining what her orgasm would sound like. He got hard whenever she walked by, wanting to wrap his arms around her sexy, little waist and pull her closer. He wanted to touch her, to press her soft body against him. He wanted her to know what she did to him.
After Saren came aboard, Garrus found himself fantasizing more than ever. He would do anything for her, if she would only ask. He’d get on his knees for her, beg with his mouth and hands for her attention, but her eyes were always on that damned Spectre.
He wanted to know what Saren did to keep her, how he kept her even now that she could be free of him. Whatever Saren was giving her, he could do it too. He respected her. She was beautiful, strong, incredible. She deserved better than that barefaced.
Garrus found himself imagining them, alone in her quarters. Was he rough with her? He had to be. Garrus couldn’t imagine someone like Saren ever being gentle. Did she like it that way? Did she like it when he bit her, raked her body with his talons?
He stroked himself faster. Her skin was so smooth and soft, warm and so very sensitive. He would trail his talons over her waist, her breasts. She’d squirm, wanting more. He’d go down her legs, then up again, caressing her.
Did he use his tongue, laving her body while she writhed with need? He imagined lapping his tongue over her body, tasting her, teasing her nipples. Oh, yes, Garrus, she’d cry. Please, I want you.
Did he take her like a turian woman, hard and fast, or was he torturously slow, drawing her pleasure out and making her beg? Or maybe he held her down and took her while she was pinned helplessly beneath him. Did he make her take him in her mouth?
Garrus moaned, thinking of her between his legs. He could almost see her on her knees, teasing him with her wet, soft tongue. He could almost feel her circling the head of his cock, driving him crazy with need. She'd take him in a bit at a time. Her plush little lips would feel so good, sucking like no turian woman could.
His hips bucked. Shepard would look up at him with lust as she sucked, playing with herself while she took him into her throat.
If she needed to submit, he could give her that. He’d let her get herself wet for him. I want you to use three fingers, he’d tell her. I want to make sure you can take me.
Then, when he could hear the squelching every time she penetrated herself with her cum-soaked fingers, he’d take her hands to make sure she couldn’t get herself off. No, Shepard, he’d growl. You’re not going to come until I'm ready. He make her pleasure him until he was almost about to come into her mouth. He’d make her lick her fingers clean, then he’d fuck her hard.
Garrus felt himself on the edge, imagining fucking her with her own saliva slicking his cock. You feel so good, Garrus, she’d moan. I need you to take me harder!
He picked up his pace, growling. He could be as rough as she needed. He’d get on top of her, scraping and licking her, nipping her soft skin and leaving his marks all over her body. He’d look down at her, watching her orgasm. Please, Garrus! I want you! I’m so close, she’d scream, body taut with need.
He groaned, thinking of her moaning his name over and over in pleasure. He came into his hand, his hips jerking erratically. He slumped against the shower wall, breathing heavily.
He would have her. He opened his hand and held it under the water, watching his seed swirl down the drain. All he had to do was find out why she wanted Saren and prove to her that he could do better.