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He ran into Jeff outside of the cafe, leaning against a wall and attempting to look like a casual bystander. “Oh, hey, A-Shep. Fancy meeting you here.”
"Real fancy," Adrian replied dryly, giving his helmsman a shrewd once-over. "Bored, Moreau?"
"Oh, nah. I just… thought I’d take in the sights while you were off commanding."
"Uh-huh." Adrian pointedly looked around them, at the artless silver and white walls, the occasional passing volus or salarian, the lack of newsvids. "How could I have doubted that. Such a great view down here, unlike up on the Presidium.”
Jeff sighed, pushing off the wall and shrugging. “Okay, fine, you got me. I thought I’d catch you coming from the Financial District if I hung out around here. But I wanted to make it look casual, you know? It’s not cute for a guy to go chasing after his commander like a dumb puppy used to taking orders.”
"You could have just asked to see me. I always make time for you."
"Yeah, but…" Jeff scrubbed his hand across the back of his neck sheepishly. "I don’t know. I wanted to… man, I don’t know."
Adrian allowed a crooked smile to soften his features, resting a hand on Jeff’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s hit the market, then. I’ll buy you a hamster.”
—
"I just never know what to do when Normandy’s in dry-dock," Jeff confessed, finishing off his drink and leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table between them. "I feel like… that’s my place. I belong there. I'm good there. Ashore, I feel…"
"Adrift." Adrian nodded. "I know. Once business is taken care of, I feel kind of lost myself. It’s like I’ve let myself become defined by the Alliance, and I don’t know who Adrian is, or what he likes to do..."
"Yeah! Exactly." Jeff shook his head, glancing around them at the other diners. "Like, everyone here has something, something other than just duty and war and…"
"You have something other than just duty and war." Adrian caught his eye for a moment, then glanced away before the smile touched his lips.
"You don’t mean that," Jeff scoffed, leaning back in his chair, eyeing Adrian suspiciously, but also a little hopefully.
"I do mean it. When do I ever say things I don’t mean?" Adrian folded his hands on the table, gazing down at them, scrubbing his thumb over the hand beneath it, as if it wasn’t his own hand. "You don’t have to chase after me like a puppy. That’s not how I see you. On the Normandy, I’m your commanding officer and you’re my lifesaver, but when we’re ashore we’re just… us. If you, uh…"
The words stuck in Adrian’s throat here, and he cleared his throat and looked away, feeling like he’d said too much, surged too far ahead. If Jeff felt desperate just for wanting to spend more time with him, then he felt even more desperate in what he wanted.
"If I what, Shep?" Jeff asked, quietly.
"Nothing." Adrian shook his head, trying to shake the thought away. "Pretend I didn’t say anything. That’s an order, Moreau."
"Shit, man, aren’t we a pair of scaredy-cats," Jeff laughed, and Adrian snorted. "Let’s get out of here."
—
"You know what’s funny?"
"Besides you?"
"Oh, ha fuckin’ ha," Jeff retorted, plopping down on the sofa in Adrian’s quarters. "I can’t remember the last time I was in someone else’s room."
"No sneaking around in flight school?" Adrian watched the fish swim back and forth in their tank, his hands behind his back. Too formal, but he didn’t know how else to stand. He didn’t even know how to feel comfortable in his own cabin.
"Nope. Too busy being the nerd. Also, all the girls assumed I was breakable and didn’t want to mess with me."
"What about the boys?" Adrian asked before he could stop himself. He continued staring steadily at the fish, who blinked myopically back at him before continuing about their constant path.
"Heh. I didn’t even bother with them." A silence stretched between them, and Jeff twiddled his thumbs a bit before his traitorous mouth finally got ahead of him. "What about you? Good-looking guy like you has probably got plenty of hot stories."
"I’m not the messing-around type." Adrian finally tore himself away from the fishtank and came to sit next to Jeff, acutely aware of his heart beating loudly behind his N7 hoodie and snug white tee.
"What type are you, then?"
"I could show you better than I could tell you." His eyes darted to gauge Jeff’s reaction, just as Jeff’s eyes flicked up to gauge Adrian’s meaning. They locked gazes, both of them caught off-guard and more than a little hopeful.
"You don’t— nah, you can’t mean—"
"I can mean whatever I want, Moreau." Adrian reached for him before he could convince himself not to, closed a hand around his collar and tugged him forward, their foreheads touching and their breaths mingling for a heady moment before their lips brushed. Not as strong of a first kiss as both of them were hoping for, but a beginning nonetheless.
"But you’re—"
"Adrian," Adrian finished before he could say anything else, kissing him again. "Just Adrian."