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Breeder	By : Larania Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 9432 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Mass Effect belongs to Bioware and EA, not me, and I make no money from this work of fanfiction.

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Breeder
Chapter Four
Disclaimer: Mass Effect belongs to Bioware and EA Games. This is a work of fanfiction, and I make no money from this fan work at all.
Warnings: adult language, sexual situations, slash, dub/non-con, threesomes, gender bending and mpreg. If I have missed something, please inform me and I will add it.
Characters/pairings: Colonist/War Hero paragade ManShep/Kaidan, ManShep/Garrus and a little ManShep/Zaeed.
Summary: Mindoir's strategy for survival was one that was not well-known to the greater galactic community. Derek Shepard carried this legacy with him, dormant, through the Skyllian Blitz and through the battle with Sovereign. However, after his death at the hands of the Collectors and revival due to the machinations of Cerberus, he must cope with his body no longer being his own.
~*~*~*~*~
Shepard refused to name what had happened between himself and Zaeed.
He scrubbed himself down, ignoring the not-pain in his groin. A distant part of his mind told him it should have hurt more. He should be bleeding, because he had not wanted to... He closed his eyes, shivers quaking down his back. He was almost as disgusted by his body's pleasure in the act as his own inability to fight back.
He couldn't name it. Not because he was stupid, but because to acknowledge what happened would mean he had been powerless to stop it and he was Derek Shepard, dammit. He fought back. He survived. He struggled. He did not lay there and take it.
But he had. Echoes of that pleasure, that all it had taken had been Zaeed touching him, added to a feeling of nausea that he desperately wanted to ignore. Acknowledging that it was Zaeed's fault for taking advantage of his state was too much for him. It meant seeing himself as a victim. Of the Collectors, of the batarian pirates, of his own parents. So he refused to name it, and went back to clutch at the things he could control.
Which was why, an hour later and dressed in a clean uniform, he went to speak with Mordin.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Shepard had known that salarians needed only an hour or so of sleep, and he had ever confidence of the hyperactive scientist still being awake. The alcohol of their poker game had long since worn off, leaving Shepard sober and exhausted. There were very few crewmen awake in the CIC as he walked into the tech lab, and he hoped this wouldn't cause another bout of gossip. That was the last thing he needed.
But getting control of his body was more important.
"Shepard," Mordin acknowledged, as the Commander walked into the lab. "How can I help?"
He had to wonder what those sharp eyes saw. Shepard tried to ignore his misgivings, and cleared his throat. "Got a minute to talk?"
They had spoken already of Mordin's time with the salarian STG, and his work with the genophage. He didn't think Mordin would expect a conversation about that right now anyways.
"Yes, wanted to talk. Needed to apologize for comment on Mindoir genetic project. Had forgotten that Mindoir experiments considered an embarrassment. Fascinating idea, psychologically and physically damaging, but fascinating idea. Did not ask personal view of being involved in such experiment. Apologies. Did not mean to cause friction within crew," Mordin said, almost all in one breath. He sucked in air. "Hope you are not upset."
Shepard rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah. That's what I wanted to talk about. I'm not... I'm not mad at you. I'm more curious to know what you know about the mods and if you can think of a way to counter them."
Mordin blinked. "Interesting request. Having difficulties? Given access to ships medical records, saw that you had gone through the second stage to allow internal conception and gestation. Did not know such things embarrassed you. Curious to ask why you are embarrassed, however."
Shepard crossed his arms. "The Mindoir colony knew that their experiments were... unsanctioned, to say the least. We were told, over and over again, that while there was nothing wrong with us, that no one off world could know. Our parents, our teachers, our role models, all told us that this was for the greater good but we had no say in the matter." He shrugged. "You don't keep something right and normal a secret. Then I join the Alliance marines as an adult, and find out that it was wrong. It's hard to shake the idea that..." He trailed off and shook his head. "I'm also in a position where I need to keep a cool head and act rationally. Increased libido isn't bad when you're in basic training and you're surrounded by young bucks in the same boat. Is there any way you can modify my hormone implants so that I'm not willing to bend over for anyone who makes a pass at me?"
Mordin fluttered his fingers over his chin. "Number of possibilities. Not all of them viable, however. Easiest, but least favorable, is to have a hysterectomy and orchiectomy. Lack of organs means lowered or non-existent sex drive. Not optimal as you have not had an opportunity to reproduce and might decide differently later in life. Given previous sexual history, can deduce that would be unwelcome as well. Can modify implants and treatments, but time-consuming with potentially unpleasant side effects. Given nature of mission, also not optimal. However, more viable than others. Another option is to induce pregnancy. Pregnancy hormones would inhibit mating instincts, at least in the beginning. However, given that time frame for mission unclear, would cause potentially awkward outcome. More balanced and least intrusive option would be optimizing implant, as well as finding an outlet for sexual impulses. Regular activity would reduce cravings, give more control over instincts as well as deter, ah, unwanted suitors."
Shepard's eyebrows went up. "You're telling me that my best option is finding a fuck buddy?"
"One option. Prostitutes are another. Purchasing masturbatory aids may not be as effective, but least likely to cause friction among crew, as well as prevent diseases. Can't tell you what to do in this case, Shepard." He smiled, doing an imitation of a human shrugged. "Personal choice. One more thing. Should remind you, that you are not a broken person. Genetic modifications to Mindoir children unconscionable, but you choose your response." He exhaled then inhaled.
"Are you all right, Shepard?"
Shepard blinked. "Not used to people asking, Professor."
"Am asking. Look disturbed."
"I'll cope." He shrugged, and hid his wince. He ached not just from Zaeed's... intrusion, but because he was steadily building towards his first menstrual period. "I'll cope."
~*~*~*~*~
Zaeed, damn him, had been right.
Two weeks later, and he'd been waking up, middle of the night, with a raging hard-on as well as slick thighs. His mind was wandering when he wasn't focusing exclusively on a mission, wandering to musings that inevitably lead to mental porn. People were starting to notice. And others were stepping up their efforts to 'court' him.
That was when he made a surprising discovery.
"Shepard," Garrus said, eyes wide when Shepard all but ran inside the forward batteries, letting the doors close behind him before leaning on those doors like he was being chased by a pack of wild varren. "What's wrong?"
The Commander blinked at him, and sighed to relax the tension in his shoulders. "I'm hiding."
"Hiding? What happened? Gardner try to feed you again?" Garrus asked, a soft chuckle in his voice that belayed the angry tension that had been there since he had come aboard. "I knew I was giving you a better chance of getting hit on, I just didn't realize it would be by the men." His eye ridges lifted in a smile. "I mean, I knew you liked both, just..."
Shepard shook his head. "Must be my cologne." He snorted. "No, Zaeed is-" He stopped, and aborted a shudder. "Just needing some time away from the Cerberus logo."
"You okay? Your skin is more red than normal, you're breathing hard and you're damp," Garrus asked, sitting down on one of the crates. "I know I've been distracted, but don't push yourself too hard. You collapse, they'll ask me to take over, and without you to stand in between us everyone on board will be all over me. That would be awkward."
Derek grimaced, wiping his face on his sleeve. He had just finished a mission with the Hammerhead, on Corag. The adrenaline had been incredible, facing off against his old nemesis, and that the Hammerhead was fragile as an egg hadn't helped matters. Then he had disembarked upon completion of the mission. And Zaeed had been there.
Shepard ran. Given that he knew how he reacted to adrenaline-
He blinked, coming out of his reverie with a start. He felt a lot calmer. No scent of human in the forward battery to distract him. In fact... He felt the most relaxed he had since waking up on Lazarus Station. His eyes flicked over to Garrus, who was starting to look worried when he hadn't answered.
"Given that you never figured out how to deal with lips, let alone breasts, you bet your ass that would be awkward," Shepard said with a grin. The sheer relief of having no human pheromones to deal with almost made him giddy. "Hell, even I'm not happy with all this attention. Never thought I was that attractive."
Garrus' smile, if anything, got wider. "Must be the tension on this ship. Plus, you demonstrating that," he gestured with a finger towards his non-existent lips, "mouth thing? Even I'm not immune to that."
Shepard whipped his head around to stare at Garrus, who had his mandibles flaring in amusement. Nothing, just humor on his face, dropping the tension that had been present in his frame since his team had been killed.
Good for both of them, perhaps. "Well, I'm always happy to contribute to universal love and understanding," Shepard quipped. "Should I demonstrate any other inappropriate sexual techniques unique to human physiology? Or you could return the favor?"
Garrus blinked at him, and the smile turned wicked. Standing, he walked over to Shepard...
And licked the tip of Derek's nose. From twenty centimeters away.
"Consider us even?"
~*~*~*~*~*~
Awakening Grunt had left Shepard with a bruised back, thoughtful mood, and conflicted instincts. On the one hand, he saw a potential danger to his crew, and on the other, he saw a new member of his crew that needed guidance. It was an instinct that he had always had; he had always fussed over his crew.
He couldn't help but contrast the young Grunt to the weary and worn Wrex. He would have given his left eye to have Wrex back with him; the old warrior was a tank, indestructible and canny. Truth be told, Shepard had more than a bit of an admiring crush on him despite the more obvious romantic tensions between himself and Kaidan. None of that baggage should spill out over Grunt.
It was obvious that whatever emotions Okeer had tried to impart to the tank-born had not worked. All he knew was a desire to fight. Shepard hoped that he would gain enough perspective not to get himself, and anyone with him, killed.
With those thoughts, he went on his rounds, visiting his crew to check up on them and avoiding Zaeed. The engineers were talking about Miranda's bust, Kasumi was still stung but dealing about the loss of Keji's gray box, he cooed over baby pictures with Rolston and Patel, Miranda had little to report after their initial conversation about her own genetic engineering. Garrus was exceptionally broody, but refusing to talk about it; Shepard guessed that his last lead on Sidonis hadn't panned out. He refused to taste-test Rupert's latest batch of gumbo, bullshitting something about a diet. Doctor Chawkwas offered him a hot pack to help with his cramps.
He went up to the CIC, chatted a few minutes with Kelly. She was a pleasure to flirt with, even if there was no real attraction there. She seemed to enjoy the interaction as a pleasant diversion, just as much as he did. The other crew hailed him, and tried to distract him from the fact that Joker was indulging in some pretty nasty hanar-asari porn. Mordin had been working on a more effective implant for him, but it was understandably on the backburner. They needed the countermeasure first.
Then he walked in on Jacob, who was focused on polishing the assault rifle in his hands. He blinked, looked over his shoulder when Shepard arrived. He put down the rifle to give a salute.
"Commander," he said, serious as always. "I, um, hope that I wasn't too... inappropriate at the poker game a few weeks ago." He looked sheepish. "Not used to seeing a commanding officer let his hair down, so to speak."
Shepard rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah. You're not the only one regretting that." He shook his head. "But you were fine, Mr. Taylor. It was good to see you relax a little. I like to know my crew."
Jacob's face filled with something strange, confused, but he seemed to shake it off. "Wanted to talk to you a bit about the new armor," he said, nodding to his workstation. "We'll be able to get it installed next time we head into berth." Shepard stepped beside him, humming as he noted the specs and how it would affect the overall performance of the ship.
They were shoulder to shoulder, and Shepard looked down when he felt a hand cover his, and another tilt his face up for a kiss.
It was a sweet kiss, soft and gentle, and Shepard's mind shut down in a blind panic as he was tugged towards Jacob's chest. Arousal flooded his veins, burning down to his groin even as he fought to keep his mind clear, not shut down in lust or attack Jacob in fear. His heart thundered in his chest, pulse in his ears, but he had been having a harder and harder time keeping his lusts in check.
Jacob felt good under his hands, muscular and warm, and when he tongued Derek's lips they opened, letting the other man stroke the inside of his mouth. Hands rested just above his ass, not going further. Jacob just held Shepard close, before breaking the kiss and leaning their foreheads together.
"Stop," Shepard whispered, lips swollen, wet and trembling, eyes closed. "Please."
"What? Am I reading you wrong?" Jacob murmured, moving up Shepard's back with his hands. He gave Shepard another soft brush of the lips. Shepard shuddered.
"You know about my," he licked his lips. "Condition?"
"I-" Jacob paused, shaking his head. "Yes. I was there, caused a big uproar when you changed." He nuzzled the side of Shepard's neck. "You smell good."
"Jacob," Shepard muttered, finding the will to push against him, breaking the embrace. "You're the straightest man I have ever met. You know about the pheromones. And if you keep pressing," he swallowed, hands shaking as he viciously repressed his memories of Zaeed. "I won't be able to say no."
"You," Jacob frowned, inhaling, shaking himself free, stepping away. "I- you don't want this." He closed his own eyes, biting his lip. "I'm sorry, I thought you were..."
"I seem to be getting that from all the human men on this ship lately," Derek said, sitting down on the work bench and rubbing his lips dry. He took several long, deep breaths, getting his racing heart under control. "And hell, if you were still Alliance, and not obviously carrying a torch for Miranda, I would have asked you out already." He leaned back, shuddering. "But I don't want someone else taking advantage of me when I can't," he broke off, seeing Jacob's eyes widen, jaw dropping and crossing his eyes.
"Someone on board-"
"Will be dealt with," Shepard said, getting up. "Trust me on this." He shook himself, then gave Jacob a smile. "We good, Mr. Taylor?"
"Aye, sir," Jacob answered. He paused. "Have you talked to Miranda about your, ah, problem? I know you don't trust her yet, but she knows more about you than anyone else."
"No, I don't think I will," Shepard said, nodding, then put his hand on Jacob's shoulder. "Thank you."
"Don't thank a person for doing the right thing," Jacob answered, turning away from Shepard. "Be careful."
To be continued.
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