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Ch. 2: Let's... go blow off some steam	By : calliphoridae Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 3646 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect, nor do I profit from the use of its intellectual property in any way.

Chapter List
- 1-Purgatory
- 1
This is a prequel to Ch. 1: This is an order, Vakarian.
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She leaned against the bar, drink in one hand, the music pounding in her ears.

From behind her, a voice spoke, cutting through the loudness with perfect clarity.

“Shepherd.”

The Drell was standing behind her, the lights of the Purgatory nightclub reflecting off his metallic, reptilian skin. His eyes were dark. It was uncharacteristic of him to choose to come here, usually preferring the Normandy’s much quieter, orderly environment.
Some might say that it was uncharacteristic of Shepherd to be here, considering her disastrous dancing. However, she felt peaceful here, finding that the loud music limited her mind dwelling on the mission at hand.

“Can I help you, Krios?”

“I sought to investigate why you choose this place. It seems unlike you.”

She scowled.

“Is that a sly? Do you have a problem with how I like to spend my shore leave?”

He closed his eyes momentarily.

“No, I simply wish to know what you enjoy. If I may enjoy it myself.”

Up until this point, the Drell had refrained from showing any kind of affection or loyalty beyond that expected of a crewmember. Shepherd was surprised.

“What do you think of it?”

He looked around, hands behind his back.

“These people seem unhappy.”

“They seem pretty happy to me.” Shepherd said, looking at the various dancers, eyes closed, arms flailing arrhythmically above their heads. She noticed a Turian hand sneaking its way up the dress of her human dance partner.

“They’re hiding their concerns, their fears. Pretending to forget, but to have one night of liberation.”

Shepherd looked back at him.

“Are all Drells this pessimistic?”

“I’m sorry to have upset you.”

A pause.

“Do you wish to take part in this behavior?”

Shepherd choked on her drink. Obviously, he hasn’t been on the ship long enough to hear Garrus harass her about her dancing when he’s had a bit too much Turian brandy. It’s like a Hanar was being electrocuted,” he’d say, laughing raucously and slapping the table with his unencumbered hand.

“I can’t say it’s really my thing.” But without hearing her, Thane made his way towards the dance floor.

With a huff, Shepherd followed behind, dodging an intoxicated Salarian falling over an Asari in uniform. They ascended the stairs to the main dancing area.

The music here was so loud it drowned out all other senses. Shepherd could hardly focus on tailing the bright green Drell winding effortlessly through the crowd.

Somewhere in the middle of the masses, he turned to her and reached out his hand.

“If it is all right with you, it seems we are to have physical contact during this behavior.”

Shepherd rolled her eyes at his formalities, but all the same reached out her hand to meet his.

To her surprised, Thane took her hand and placed it behind him, wrapping his around her waist. She had never been so close to him, but now realized how intoxicating his scent was.

He began to move, and as his hips swung, he moved her body as well. Huh, I guess it just took someone who knew what they were doing.

She leaned in to say in his ear, “You’re pretty good at this for someone who has never done it before.”

“The art of assassination is a dance, Shepherd. It only takes but some observation to adjust to this method.”

His deep, soulful voice sent chills down her back.

Shepherd felt herself inadvertently move her hips closer to him, and to her surprised felt the Drell reciprocate. She thought she felt a bulge growing below his belt.

Over his shoulder, she could see the tall, armored silhouette of Garrus Vakarian, her most loyal crewmate, talking casually with Tali. They briefly made eye contact. He was expressionless.

She returned her gaze to her dance partner. His black eyes were intent on her, unwavering, unblinking. She had at least become accustomed to this behavior of his. Despite that, she felt her breath quickening.

They were moving through the crowd as easily as if they were ghosts. It was unmistakable that Thane’s lifetime of training in stealth made him an incredible dancer. Shepherd felt light as a feather.

“Shepherd, I find you intriguing.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Is that so?”

“You care for the wellbeing of your crew, making sure they get adequate shore leave, get time to enjoy themselves. But you do not allow yourself these pleasures.”

“There are more important tasks. As the Commander of this crew, my job is to complete missions and keep my crew from dying.”

Thane’s face remained impassive. It made Shepherd uncomfortable when she couldn’t read someone’s expression.
Thane leaned forward, putting his lips against her ear. He, too, was breathing fast.

“I wish to help you with this.”

What did that mean?

He turned, taking her hand, and lead her towards the back of the room. Away from the balcony on which they just had danced, the lights died out and only the pounding bass was audible. In half-shadow, he pulled her against the cold metal wall of the club.

“Are you okay with this, Shepherd?”

She nodded, anxious for what was to come.

The Drell dropped his head and seemed to mumble a prayer, and when he finally looked up at Shepherd, his eyes were ablaze.

Taking her hip in his hand, he flipped Shepherd, so her front was pressed against the club wall, ass pressed into his groin. She definitely felt the rock-hard appendage in there and her stomach squirmed.

Thane leaned over her, tracing from her ear with his lips, hot breath down her neck. He took both of her hands in his, pushing them up over her head. He pinned them there with one arm, reaching down with the other to pull up the hem of her black dress. He didn’t have to pull it far.

Her body ached with anticipation. She had not expected this from the Drell, but excitedly awaited what was to come. However, she was still painfully aware that they were in public.

As if reading her mind, she heard, “They are not concerned with us.”

Suddenly, she felt herself stretch to accept the massive, throbbing intruder into her. She gasped, grateful to have the wall against which she braced herself.

“Are you okay?”

He had not entered her fully but checked to see that he had not hurt her thus far.

She nodded, unable to come up with the words. Her eyes were closed, she could feel wet dripping down her inner thigh.

Suddenly, he pushed into her, not quite able to fit his entirely length. Immediately he pulled out and pushed into her again, then again. His rhythm was fast but steady.

His hand reached around the front of her dress and found her clit. He pressed two fingers against it and began rubbing furiously.

People could have seen them, maybe even heard them, unless they were all so consumed in their own attempts to forget their worries. Had they looked over their shoulder, they would’ve seen a Drell fucking a human spectre in the corner, holding the drink he had confiscated from her. The bright purple liquid remained perfectly still in his surgically steady hand.

He was relentless, never wavering in his rhythm. Shepherd felt waves of pleasure roll over her, one climax forming after the next. She was starting to forget about all the other dancers…
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He looked around, realizing it had been a while since he’d seen his Commander and the Drell on the dance floor. His stomach had twinged seeing them out there together. But if Shepherd knew that I wanted to be the one out there, she’d never let it down. We’d be the worst idiots on the floor.

It was easy to spot the Drell’s shiny head, but all he saw was a sea of humans, a couple Turians, and many Asari. Ignoring the protest of the Quarian woman next to him, he wandered off towards the outskirts of the dancefloor. He briefly noted Joker chatting up a very tall Turian woman at the top of the stairs.

Thinking they had probably left the club to turn in for the night, he saw it. Half concealed in darkness, the green assassin was thrusting himself into Shepherd, whose face and chest were pressed hard into the club’s wall. Though he couldn’t hear them, he could imagine the sounds coming from her mouth as he pounded her.

He watched as the Drell’s hand relinquished hers from the wall, instead using both hands to draw up her sides and under her dress. He cupped the masses on her chest, beginning to pulse harder into her. He saw Shepherd mouth the word “Thane”.

He couldn’t take his eyes off the scene. Was this always an option with Shepherd? He had known her for much longer than the Drell. Breeding was a casual act for Turians, he could have been of service to Shepherd had he known she wanted this.

The Drell flipped Shepherd around. He lifted her off the ground, bringing her legs around his waist and entering her again. He reached up and put his thumb in her mouth, forcefully tracing her bottom lip.

An assassin himself, he was trained to recognize the signs of excitement. The flushed skin, the increased heart rate, the dilated pupils. He started to feel a strain against the lower part of his armor…

“Garrus.”

He turned, and grabbing the hand of his companion, lead her out of the club.”

“Let’s… go blow off some steam, what do you say?”
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Later, Thane’s grunts could be heard in the quiet of the Med Bay.

After returning from Purgatory, Shepherd accompanied Thane for his nightly treatments. Once Dr. Chakwas had turned in to her quarters for the night, he had taken Shepherd once again. This time against the cot on which he was treated.

The time constraints of his treatments had forced them to leave the nightclub, but not before either had had their fill of each other. It had been so long since Shepherd had allowed herself to indulge in this kind of pleasure. Not since delving into a threesome with a human and an Asari at the Citadel a few years before had she fucked so passionately. She frowned, thinking of the lackluster romp she had with a human soldier on Omega.

Bent over the top of the cot, Thane was working himself into her again, pushing to fit his whole length inside his Commander.

“Try something.”

“Tell me.”

Shepherd reached back and took ahold of his member in her hand, redirecting it just an inch higher.

Without another moment, he pushed into her other hole with force, all the way to the hilt. Shepherd moaned loudly, unconcerned with being heard by any night-owl crew walking by the Med Bay. Though the windows were one-way, she wasn’t sure if the walls were sufficiently soundproof.

The naked Drell shone with sweat. Returning to this position meant Shepherd missed out on his impressive musculature. She pushed him out with a hand on his abdomen and pushed him onto the cot. Straddling him, she centered herself over his member. His dark eyes watched her every move with intent.

Shepherd lowered herself on his shaft once again, and grinded her hips back and forth, rolling him inside her. It was exciting to see this normally stoic figure close his eyes in pleasure because of her doing. He said he was doing her a service, but Shepherd believed he was enjoying this just as much as she.

The room suddenly went dark – the motion-sensing lights hadn’t been stimulated in too long. Shepherd continued to grind into the Drell and felt him sit up into her. He put his face close to hers, then with a rough tongue, traced slowly along her ear, down her neck, and down her breasts. Without sight, the pleasure Shepherd felt was intoxicating.

He reached his hand around her, sliding a single finder down her body until he found her empty hole. He stuck a single finger in, and Shepherd came.
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Back in his quarters, the Turian unfastened his armor and laid in his cot. He still felt tension in his loins, the events he had just experienced with her hadn’t subsided his urges.

Closing his eyes, he laid back and reached under his suit.

Seeing her pressed up against that wall. That could have been him two years ago.

His taloned claw wrapped around his member, pulsing up and down its length. He imagined fucking Commander Shepherd in Purgatory, for everyone to see. He wanted to make her moan and scream, make that Drell pain with jealousy. He’d never been with a human and wondered what it would be like to push into that soft, warm body. For Turians, breeding is all about business, but her desire in that club was pure, carnal.

He imagined hiding it from those that might be jealous and fucking her in highly precarious places as to risk getting caught. He briefly thought about what it might be like to see them together over the holo.

He internalized a final groan as he came.

Still restless, he grabbed a towel to wipe off, then stood off his cot.

The doors hissed open as he left the room, not sure of where he intended to go. But it wasn’t that big of a ship. Maybe he’d make his way to the Battle Room and get lost in the solar map.

As he stepped onto the raised platform Shepherd often stood, he heard a thump. He turned his head towards the Med Bay, but the windows had been switched to their privacy mode. He stared at them anyway, willful to understand the source of the sound he had heard.

A cry came through the din, a cry that was unmistakably…

“Shepherd.”

She was still with him. He had seen Dr. Chakwas retreat to her quarters already. He could now recognize the steady rhythm of bodies moving against each other, escalating once again. With a final moan, the room went completely silent.

Suddenly, the Med Bay doors slid open. Garrus turned quickly to involve himself in the map, pretending to be all-too-interested in his hastily selected star system.

The pair stepped out, and upon seeing the soldier, Shepherd stopped. Garrus looked at her and gave an awkward smile.

“Just uh, reviewing the next mission, Commander.”

The Drell stared for a moment, then turned and left the room without a word.

Garrus inclined his head towards the doors through which the Drell had left.

“Helping him with his treatments, Shepherd?”

“Dr. Chakwas does a great job, but I like to know what my crew needs.”

She lied.

“How was your night, Garrus? Meet anyone on the dance floor?”

Garrus let out a sound like a bark. “You kidding? Only thing I could catch out there is probably a Krogan woman, and once was enough.”

He lied.

He noticed her short hair was ever so slightly tousled, her lips redder than normal.

“Well, goodnight, Vakarian.”

He watched her go, noting the teeth impressions on her neck as she turned away.
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Ch. 2: Let's... go blow off some steam