Work Text:
Garrus had often seen Afterlife when he was working. Never did he think he’d actually be inside the place as somebody gave its top boss the news someone was trying to take her out. Life was funny that way.
“I found on one of the mercs going after Archangel. Somebody doesn’t like you.”
Shepard slid the datapad over with a careful prod, then returned to his normal sitting position. On most people, Garrus would have read that as trying to hide a hard on. However, the man didn’t have the look in his eyes as he watched Aria T'Loak herself read it over. Then he got to watch her throw it at somebody. Her temper was indeed legendary – he almost felt bad for that poor batarian who was lucky to keep all four of his eyes.
Then she was back to looking at her guest. Most people would have killed – and had – to try to get that kind of attention. It wasn’t sexual, just business, but still. Shepard had Aria freaking T'Loak all to himself for a second of her precious time.
Some might call him a lucky bastard.
“You’ve done a lot for me, Shepard. Let me return the favor.”
Well, shit – they weren’t getting their commander back. Garrus shot the other part of the party, a large human named Bo Peep Shepard because the universe was fucking weird, the look that it was time to go. After all, it was about to get to get messy.
She didn’t return it. Instead, Bo looked amused as the other Spectre in the room shook his head and stood. “You don’t have to, just keeping Omega from exploding is enough.”
Aria let out a bored sound as she uncrossed her legs. “I meant supplies, Shepard. It’s not that easy to get into my bed.”
“I know. You don’t need to, we’re fine.” Shepard’s eyes were towards the door. “I should go, but thanks again.”
Garrus fell in behind him as they left the VIP area and returned to the heart of the club. Afterlife was famous on Omega, and it was easy to see why. Dancers kept the crowd entertained, and heavy music pumped through the speakers. It was a place that was hard to think, and harder to say no to. He had heard the stories while on planet.
And Shepard had just said no to Aria herself. They must have replaced his blood with ice water.
“I think she was coming on to you, Al.” Bo ribbed her commanding officer in the side. “Probably going to go cry in her pillow now that you turned her down.”
Shepard smiled briefly, but it was an awkward one. He was an awkward one. “I think she’ll be just fine. I’m not exactly her type.”
Or was it the place wasn’t his? Garrus kept an eye on Shepard as they maneuvered through the night club. Plenty of good looking woman with a thing for a man in uniform were giving him the eye, but he never paused to return it. Instead, he kept his eyes on the door.
Maybe he was embarrassed. After all… Shepard was awkward. Garrus knew that better than anyone thanks to their late night talks on the old Normandy. Even death couldn’t beat that out of him. All that raw sexuality might just have been too much for the little guy, especially if a little bit of it was directed at him.
Oh well, there was always next time.
—
Garrus still felt like he needed a shower after the one he’d have as he stepped back into his jumpsuit in his little space in the battery. Even on a Cerberus created ship, this spot felt like his own. Free from prying eyes, he could just… calibrate.
And calibrating was good for frayed nerves.
He knew he was lucky to be alive, especially after everything that had happened on Omega. If Shepard hadn’t been there… his talons tapped against the implants and scars that kept the right side of his face together. Definitely would’ve been dead.
Saved from the brink of death by a dead guy – that had to be a new one.
His thought process was distracted from a knocking by the door. Nobody… knocked on the battery door. Who did that kind of thing? It made him curious enough to step back as the door whooshed open, revealing the source of the odd noise.
“Hey.”
Shepard was out of armor too, now only wearing a ridiculously bright orange hooded sweatshirt and a pair of pants. He brushed some of his long hair behind one ear as the door closed behind him, closing them off together in the small space.
Apparently, Alliance commanding officers knock on the doors of their own ships?
Garrus shot him a blank look. “Unless that changed, it’s your ship.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to be an ass about it. Besides, you might have been naked in here and I don’t think you’d want to show your carapaced ass to Cerberus.”
No. No he wouldn’t have. Maybe he wouldn’t complain about that after all.
Shepard took the room’s only seat, sighing in relief as he sunk in. “Omega is gross. Took me two showers to feel human again.”
“I’m still working on feeling turian myself.” Garrus leaned against the main gun’s housing, careful not to hit anything. “Any reason why you came down, Shepard? Did you want to check on my implants or something?”
After all, Shepard was a medic. If anyone knew if something was up, it be him. Had something been off during the fight? A thousand thoughts ran through the turian’s mind as he tried to puzzle it out. Then that slowly turned into an anxiety – what had he missed that had worried the human so much?
Shit… was he going to be able to stick with him?
Shepard rubbed the back of his neck before he spoke. “Oh, no, I think they’re ok, though I can check if you want.”
Relief washed over Garrus in waves. “Oh… then why come? Need tips on how to deal with woman after what happened with Aria? I don’t know if I can help a human much.”
Ok, maybe the anxiety had led him to say that – but could anyone blame him? He’d thought something was permanently wrong with his implants. As the humans put it, though – the cat was out of the bag. Now he had to deal with whatever they had that facilitated keeping them in a sack to begin with. Maybe they spat acid?
Shepard, much to his surprise, started to chuckle. “Don’t worry, I’m fine with that. Aria’s not my type.”
He was smiling, but there was nothing friendly about the look he gave Garrus in that moment. Well, it was friendly… but a different type. If the turian didn’t know better, he would’ve sworn that the human was … interested.
…
Garrus thought back to another night, one on the original Normandy. Shepard had joked once that there was nothing straight about him when prompted, though the joke had fallen flat. Straight, he knew, meant a certain thing to humans. And being around enough mercs told him the definition: only interested in a different sex.
So… he wasn’t interested in women. Just…
Oh.
“You like men, don’t you.”
Alistair’s face went from pale to pink in about two seconds. “What?”
“You said there was nothing straight about you when we met. Aria’s not your type because she looks like a woman to you-” Garrus was practically ticking it off his talons. “You only like men, then?”
It would… explain some looks, to say the least. Once in a while, back on the old Normandy, he had caught Shepard looking at Kaidan. It wasn’t like the one he had seen moments before – never full, something almost sad about it. It was in his voice whenever he talked about the turian who had been on the Normandy before.
Or when he caught the man looking at him.
Shepard was still blushing as he looked away. “Yeah… I’m gay. Is that going to be a problem, Garrus?”
There was a note in his voice – almost a challenge. He might not have been looking, but he was ready to fight. Something about that Garrus could respect, even if he didn’t quite understand it. Clearly, gay men were hardcore like that.
Was it?
…
Well, no. He couldn’t exactly lie and say he didn’t like the attention Shepard shot at him when they were alone. Something about it even… excited him in a way. But it was a hard road to cross between them, and not just because of species.
Still… he could still remember the man holding his damn face together, telling him he was going to be ok. Those hands had been so warm and comforting then. If there was a chance he could get to hold them again, well, that wouldn’t be a bad thing.
“Garrus?”
Back to reality. The turian shook his head as he looked back at the Normandy’s commanding officer. “Oh, no. No problems here. I suppose if there were I might be out the airlock right now?”
Shepard snorted as his shoulders relaxed. “I mean the thought has crossed my mind with some people, but no. You’re good.”
He stood, and suddenly there wasn’t much personal space between them. Garrus felt his heart race as the Spectre leaned in close, inspecting the right side of his face. He was so small that his head barely brushed against the turian’s reconstructed jaw. Those blue eyes were focused on him again, studying him.
“Looks like your implants are doing just fine too. Don’t get blown up again and they’ll settle in just fine.”
Garrus barely heard it through the pounding of his heart. “Not exactly on my to-do list, no.”
“Good, it was hard enough putting you back together the first time.” Shepard patted him on the shoulder as he backed up. “Just wanted to check in on you is all. If you need me, you know where I am.”
The turian didn’t answer as he watched the Normandy’s commander make his way to the door. Their eyes met briefly when he turned back, and in them held the same charge. But then he was gone, off to wherever Spectres went when they weren’t being confusing and making people’s hearts beat faster.
Garrus was left in the battery, to linger on the thought of those eyes and what the little touches might mean. Gone were thoughts of calibrating. Instead, they focused hard on a redhead with bright blue eyes who death had taken once and returned back into his life with a literal bang.
Forget calibrating – he’d be lucky to remember how to breathe. Apparently, Shepard wasn’t the only one with a preference for men – though that was definitely news to the turian.
Well, great. At least he was smart enough not to get it tattooed like SOME people on the Normandy.