Work Text:
There's movement beside her, and Olivia hmms as she stretches, waking up. She turns over, sliding her hand over Garrus' chest. But he sits up and turns, setting his feet on the floor, and her hand falls away down to the soft sheets. She blinks at him in the dim light of her quarters.
"You okay?" she asks quietly. He looks strangely tense, especially considering how much tension they worked out earlier. She's a little sore, though pleasantly so.
Garrus turns slightly and looks at her. "Yeah," he says. "Need some water. That's all." The faint blue glow from the fish tank casts deep shadows across his face.
Olivia props herself up on her elbow, and the sheet falls to her bare hips. Garrus is practically a furnace, and she'd only bothered with underwear afterward. His eyes shift from hers to her waist, then back up to her face. The shadows are even darker now.
She tilts her head. They blew the Collector base and told the Illusive Man to go to hell, he's tracked down and made his peace with Sidonis, and what the two of them have is happy, easy; it's solid and comforting, even if it is just casual. Though she's sure a shadow crosses her own face at the thought of never having more than casual with him, there's no reason for his shadows.
"What's wrong?" She draws the sheet back up and tucks it under her arms before pushing herself up, sitting beside him. "Garrus?" She sets her hand on his shoulder.
He shakes his head. "I'm fine, Shepard." He kisses her temple and then stands up.
Olivia watches him cross her quarters to the bathroom. She's never believed anything from his mouth less. Sighing, she lies back down, reaching over to the floor on her side of the bed - strange to have her side of the bed with someone she isn't dating - and grabs her University of Serrice sweatshirt. She sits up to tug it over her head and then tucks her feet under her, waiting.
The bathroom door finally opens, and for a moment Garrus is silhouetted by the bright fluorescent light. The light seems to glow around him, bright and ethereal, like an aura. But then he turns off the light, casting her quarters back into darkness. She waits, quietly and patiently, until he's standing beside the bed again.
"What's wrong?" she asks once more.
Garrus takes a breath and glances away, as if needing to bolster himself one last time. He looks back at her. "I can't do this anymore, Shepard," he says. He gestures between them.
Her breath catches in her throat, and her heart pounds in her ears. She forces herself to swallow, and then breathe. Good air in, bad air out. They said they'd keep their relationship casual, physical, no strings attached. First and foremost, he's her friend. Even though tears prick at her eyes, and she wants nothing more than for him to just lie back down beside her and tuck her tight in his arms, she has to honor their friendship. She wants to honor their friendship.
"Okay," she whispers, tugging at the frayed sleeves of her sweatshirt.
He reaches out and tucks her hair behind her ear. With a flicker of his mandibles that seems almost sad, he leans in to kiss her forehead, and then pulls away.
She sniffs, clenching her teeth to keep the tears at bay, and watches him get dressed. She doesn't know how to go back to just friends after this, but for him she'll try. "Can I," Olivia starts, once he's mostly dressed, "can I ask what changed?" If there's someone he's interested in, if he's actually mad at her for stepping into his shot and can't hide it anymore, if he's bored – she just wants to know.
He freezes, his hands going completely still mid-button. It's only for a fraction of a second, but enough for her to notice. He turns, and the fish tank's lights reflect coolly against his hide. His spine tightens.
Olivia can see him gearing up to lie. She can hear it too, as his subvocals jitter in an uncertain – and uncomfortable – low rumble. But then his shoulders slump, and the rumble fades away.
A faint distressed hum begins in his chest instead. It sounds so fragile, like the thinnest of glass in a hailstorm.
"I can't do just casual anymore, Shepard," he admits, his voice catching on casual as if it hurts to even say the word.
She blinks, and a flicker of hope licks up her spine.
"I care about you," he continues, and the glass sounds like it's about to shatter. "More than I should for just casual."
The flicker of hope turns into a flame.
"Come back to bed," she says quickly, in a rush of air that leaves her all at once. Her tears fall, though they're joyful now, not the sad tears of a few moments ago. She wipes at her eyes.
"Shepard," he protests, voice strained and strangled.
She quickly slides out of bed and pads barefoot over the carpet to stand in front of him. Gently cupping his scarred mandible, she smiles. Though the rest of his body is tight and tense, primed to flee, he nuzzles her palm. "I care about you too, Garrus," she whispers, stroking her thumb across his markings. "More than I should for just casual," she repeats his own words and drops her hand down to his, giving him a gentle squeeze. "Come back to bed."
He stares at her and then looks away to the fish tank. The manta ray swims past, kicking up a swirl of sand. "I…" he says, and looks back at her. He tilts his head. "You..."
Olivia smiles as realization clearly dawns on his face. His eyes light up and he takes a step closer to her. The smile he gives her is miles away from that razor-thin glass. His smile is bright and happy and brimming full of adoration and, gods, if this is what she gets to see for the rest of her life – he kisses her before she can finish the thought.
She squeaks a little in surprise, rocking back on her heels before she lifts up on her toes to return the kiss. She stretches out her arms behind his neck, gently looping her arms around him as they kiss. His hand rests strong on her lower back, the other slides across and up her shoulders to tangle in her hair.
They've kissed before, countless times, but this feels different. Feels freer, now that they're both not holding back their feelings. Feels deeper, because if he cares about her even half as much she cares about him, then this thing between them is very, very real. Feels better. And their kisses before were pretty damn good already.
He urges her closer and she molds herself against him and his half-buttoned shirt. He smells wonderful – spicy, a little earthy, a little metallic, a little gun oil, just uniquely Garrus. She sighs contently and gently curls one hand around the back of his neck, letting her other softly stroke across his crest. His hand slips underneath her sweatshirt, but he doesn't explore further, doesn't tease the edge of her panties; he just settles there, brushing his talon across her bare skin.
Olivia breaks the kiss when her calves start to tremble, and sets her feet flat on the floor. "So," she says quietly, her arms still around him and his still around her. Her lips quirk upward in a small smile. "Come back to bed?"
His mandibles flick outward and he bends down, resting his forehead against hers. She leans into him, bumping his nose with hers. A comforting sound, almost like a purr, begins in the back of his throat. The sound wraps around her like a blanket, soft and warm, and her eyes flutter shut.
"Always," Garrus murmurs.