Small details for kisses prompt for Iain & Coats: not being able to focus on anything during a conversation because you're too busy staring at your lover's lips
Well, it's almost four years to the day since you asked this of me, my friend. I apologize for the long delay, but I found a draft in my files this morning, and I've spent most of the day fine tuning this one. I hope it works for you! And just to be clear for all readers, as far as Iain's concerned, music is a conversation too. :)
No idea what prompt list this was from, so no link back to it.
Full prompt reply can be found on AO3 here.
~~~
The war is finally over. For the first time in almost two years, the reapers are gone, and fear is not a constant state of being. Overhead, darkness has given way to sunlight bathing a battered and bruised – but not beaten – planet. It’s an almost heavenly experience. Warmth suffuses the skin, bone deep, welcoming. Clear, bright skies; the clouds and other pollutants brought with the reapers gone for good.
More than that, the end of the war has brought hope. Hope to rebuild the world. Of a future that has been rid of at least one galactic threat. Of the promise that comes with such a future.
Surrounded by the soft strains of Vivaldi, Emmerson Coats finally takes a moment for himself to soak up some of that hope as he savors an altogether different sort of heaven. The Four Seasons. Light, airy, magical. Of course, the only reason he can say he knows the piece is thanks to Maggie.
Closing his eyes for a moment, he drifts from memory to memory. Back to a childhood when she and Luke and their parents lived in the heart of London. When he was responsible for seeing his younger siblings finished their schoolwork and practiced their daily music lessons until Mum came home late and their father got leave. When family was more than just a few stragglers who survived the worst galactic occupation ever.
Across the room, the music fades out and comes to a stop. He doesn’t notice at first. “Hey, Paddington, you still awake over there?”...
Are you still accepting kiss prompts? If so, how'a about a kiss as a promise?
from this list
On AO3 in full here
Darlin', I'll always accept prompts! What a delight it was to wake up to this today, too!
So then. This WAS going to end up a Caleb and Kaidan prompt - even had some ideas for it on the drive into work - but I got sidetracked by a Discord conversation about kilts, and it ultimately ended up squarely on Iain Shepard's shoulders. ROFL (Iain is Lachlan Shepard's younger brother who spends the reaper war on Earth and most of that time traveling with Coats) Hope you enjoy!
~~~
The flame of the last candle finally gutters out leaving them in the dark; the final curtain after a performance. While apt, Iain has no intentions of this being final. If anything, it’s the beginning. “Coats?” he murmurs in a low, almost private tone to get the man’s attention.
Private, but a hint of wistfulness too, and if Iain reads the other man right – his nostrils flaring slightly, dark eyes brightening, just the faintest hitch in his breathing – Coats doesn’t miss it. Iain keeps his eyes locked onto his face, watching for any sign, any clue as to his intentions.
The one thing he fails to watch for is the way Coats slides up to him, closing the distance until mere inches separate them. Coats is taller by a few inches and Iain has to tilt his head back a bit to keep him in focus. A hand settles on his shoulder, fingers tight but not restraining. Iain’s belly flips and nerves skitter across his skin like skate bugs on the pond back on Mindoir.
Coats clears his throat. “Yeah?”
Iain has a good ear for sounds; comes in handy in his profession. Breathless, are we? He swallows tightly. Warm, soft, filled with so much promise… They’ve been circling around each other since the moment they met and Coats saved his ass. Around and around and around… Iain’s eyes narrow in on the shape of Coats’ lips, dried and cracked perhaps, but the ever-present smirk as tempting as it had been that day, maybe more so.
The tip of his tongue slips out to run across suddenly dry lips. This close, he can’t fail to notice how Coats’ eyes track the movement. Lifting a hand between them, he rests it lightly on Coats’ chest. “Last chance to walk away, Emmerson...”
Summary: Mindoir, a quiet agricultural community and humanity's footstep into the Attican Traverse. For Lachlan Shepard, it represents home, the closeness of family and friends, a place he can be himself and grow into the person he is to become. For Kaidan Alenko, it represents a place in which he can retreat from the memories of his past, a place to recover, perhaps start over anew.
Cadenza: A moment in a musical piece where an instrumentalist or singer is given the opportunity to play a solo freely and with artistic license to go outside of a rigid tempo or rhythm. In this instance, the canon-divergence that leads to these two meeting prior to the Normandy.
Fiona Shepard is not a woman to be trifled with, especially by her sons, so when Lachlan and Iain come racing into the house after school, throwing bags and coats willy-nilly and tear up the stairs to their rooms, not just breaking but shattering an otherwise calm and peaceful afternoon at the Shepard homestead on Mindoir, she’s had enough and isn’t afraid to tell them so.
“Lachlan MacRae! Iain Sinclair! Get yourselves back down here and clean up the mess you just made!” she calls up the stairs. Her voice, strong and vibrant, rings through the house, loud and clear and with definitive authority.
Fifteen-year-old Lachlan slinks out of his bedroom, ginger hair tousled into his eyes. Twelve-year-old tow-headed Iain stands wide-eyed in his doorway staring over at his brother. “Lach … she …!”
Lachlan huffs softly. “Aye, she did,” he agrees. “And the longer we stay up here, the more we’ll suffer for it later.” He winces at the thought and immediately heads back to the stairs, albeit in a less raucous manner than his ascent.
Iain follows behind him even more gingerly. “She’s pissed!”
Lachlan gives his brother a sharp look, hissing over his shoulder, “No kidding!”
Read More on AO3 Here
~~~
Spurred on by @ghostxofxartemis ask about Lachlan Shepard earlier today, I decided to start posting some of his background. Cadenza is his background story, pieces of his life prior to enlisting in the Alliance in 2172, and starts on Mindoir. This is part of the The Music Lives On series.
I was tagged by the fabuloius @maxrev - thank you!
Tagging @mallaidhsomo, @jediwalkerw, @swaps55, @rpgwrites, @citadelsushi and anyone else who wants to participate! (No obligation, no pressure!)
Had a little insight into my Scottish Shepard’s background on Mindoir earlier today, so have a bit of 14-year old Lachlan Shepard ...
~~~~
Fiona Shepard is not a woman to be trifled with, especially by her sons, so when Lachlan and Iain come racing into the house after school, throwing bags and coats willy-nilly and tear up the stairs to their rooms, not just breaking but shattering an otherwise calm and peaceful afternoon at the Shepard homestead on Mindoir, she’s had enough and isn’t afraid to tell them so.
“Lachlan MacRae! Iain Sinclair! Get yourselves back down here and clean up the mess you just made!” she calls from the kitchen. Her voice, strong, vibrant, rings through the house and up the stairs, loud and clear.
Fourteen year old Lachlan slinks out of his bedroom, ginger hair tousled into his eyes. Twelve year old Iain stands wide-eyed in his doorway staring at his brother. “Lach … she …!”
Lachlan huffs softly. “Aye, she did,” he agrees, wincing slightly and immediately heading back down the stairs, albeit in a less raucous manner than his ascent.
Iain follows behind him even more gingerly. “She’s pissed!” he hisses softly.
“No kidding!” Lachlan hisses back over his shoulder.
Without another word, Lachlan heads over to hang up his coat and collects his bag. Fiona stands with her back to the sink facing them, a stern expression on her face and her arms folded across her chest; a formidable warrior any smart person would want on their side in battle. Bright red hair, braided and twisted, shapes around her head like a crown; Lachlan is well aware that it’s an apt comparison. She rules the house, the iron fist in the velvet glove. At times it can be … scary, mostly because she’s taught them to recognize when they’re in the wrong and guilt from that has a habit of being heavier than any other.
“Sorry, Mum,” he mumbles and sets the bag on the table. Quickly he opens it, fishing out his homework.
“Me too,” Iain echoes meekly as he slides into his chair.
Homework first. It’s the highest rule of the house.
But as he drops into his seat, settling so that his left foot bounces to an innate rhythm beneath the table matching the one inside his head, he cannot seem to focus.
“Lachlan.”
The warning is stern and, no doubt, comes from the fact the table is vibrating just enough from the movement that the rattling of the flower vase is loud enough to actually hear. Sighing heavily, he stops his foot, only to take up an incessant tapping with his fingers on the tabletop. Across the table, Iain snickers softly, looking away when Lachlan glares over at him. Lachlan straightens and is highly tempted to reach over and flick his brother’s nose with his finger, but another stern look from his mother has him retreating. Once her back is turned again, he sticks his tongue out at his brother instead.
(Lachlan Shepard is 15, Iain Shepard is 13, and Kaidan is 18)
~~~
As he heads across the yard, turning west around the back of the house, a voice, desperate and daring, shouts, “Freeze! Or the rubber ducky gets it!”
Something in the tone triggers his fight or flight instinct. Short breaths, racing heart, a sudden pressure weighing down his chest, the indescribable itch that slithering across his skin as dark energy collects in his hand, mnemonics already in motion. It isn’t a conscious decision; it just is.
And from one breath to the next, nearly sixteen-year-old ginger-haired brother giving a good impersonation of a volus mobster with a water gun pointed at the head of, all things, a rubber duck. Chasing after him in an overly dramatic fasion, a tow-headed boy of thirteen years doing his best impersonation of the mobster’s victim – hands to his chest, eyes wide, voice shaking far too much to be taken seriously now that Kaidan is aware of the situation. “Nooooo! Please, no! Not that!”
Lachlan’s imitation of a volus’ wheeze is near perfect… until he ruins it by choking on his own laughter. From one minute to the next, he falls to the ground, giggling so hard he curls up with his knees to his chest. Iain, apparently disgusted, stomps his way across the yard to stand over him, glaring. “Ya numpty! You ruined it!”
Lachlan’s long arm reaches up to grab Iain by the hem of his shirt, tugging him off his feet with a yelp of surprise and landing on the ground next to his brother. In a heartbeat, the two suddenly become a blur of tangled limbs and shouts as yet another wrestling match ensues.
Kaidan’s breath catches painfully in his throat as he stumbles to a halt, mystified at the scene before him.
What in the hell…?
The impromptu acting aside, he’s been at the Shepard homestead long enough to know the likely end result if he doesn’t step in to stop things. Considering the last time they wrestled around like this their mother had them both on extra chores for two weeks, Kaidan takes a deep breath, yanks at whatever sense of grounding he can find – not much, in all honesty – and runs over to break things up.
I was tagged by the fabulous @pigeontheoneandonly this time. Thank you so much!!!!!
Tagging back anyone who hasn’t been tagged yet and would like to share! (I’ve lost track of who all has been tagged)
So, this time, let me see ... I’ll go with Lachlan Shepard this time because I’ve got quite a bit planned for him as well.
Cadenza - Lachlan Shepard (15) and Kaidan Alenko (17) meet in 2168 when Kaidan arrives on Mindoir. This is a collection of ‘adventures’ during the time between when Kaidan arrives and the attack on Mindoir by the Batarians happens in 2170. Most will involve at least the two of them, Iain, Fiona and Benjamin Shepard and their dog Amadeus. Occasionally, others will show up as well.
[currently unnamed] - This short fic will look at events around the Batarian attack on Mindoir from Iain/Kaidan’s perspective, Lachlan’s perspective, and eventually their reunion back at the Alenko orchard afterward.
[currently unnamed] - This short fic will focus on Lachlan and Kaidan taking shore leave together on Elysium in 2176. They are there for rest, relaxation, a wedding (theirs), and get pulled into the Skyllian Blitz. Nothing quite like having your honeymoon interrupted by an attack ...
Maps - (named for the Maroon 5 song) This is a short fic focusing on Kaidan in the aftermath of losing Lachlan and the Normandy over Alchera. This is a slightly AU world, and the Kaidan we see here is not the one we see in games. By the time he loses Lachlan, they’ve been married for nine years (almost to the day). That and the way the Council and Alliance react after Lachlan’s loss have a profound effect on him and his decisions.
Ostinato - A collection of writing prompts and drabbles that deal with Lachlan and Kaidan. I have plenty of prompts in progress for this piece!
These are all in addition to stories regarding the times during the three games as well as some post-war shenanigans. There will be at least one post war story for Lachlan and Kaidan, as well as a story or two for Iain Shepard and Coats. I’ve no doubt more will develop as I go along!
December Challenge #13 Confessions for Lachlen/Kaidan
from this prompt list
On AO3 here
Thank you so much for this!!! This one is set post-War and they’re still in Scotland. Enjoy!!!
(under cut because, as usual, it got looooooooooong! lol)
~~~
“I have a confession to make.”
The rug in front of the fireplace has become their evening ritual. Every night for the three months they have been in Scotland, Lachlan lies with his head pillowed on his good arm, staring into the burning blaze in the fireplace while Kaidan works the kinks out of the aching and still healing muscles and scar tissue of his hips and shoulders. He knows full well he could be suffering from worse things, has in the past at times, but like most nights, he is nearly asleep, the last bit of consciousness hanging by a thread. Still, Kaidan’s words are enough to startle him back to full awareness.
Blinking sleep from his eyes, Lachlan pushes himself up enough to glance back over his shoulder. Around a yawn and in a raspy voice, he asks, “What?”
Whiskey-amber eyes meet blue with a hint of mischief. A flutter of unease works through him, and in that moment, Lachlan knows he’s been had. “You bloody eejit!” he hisses, then flops to the floor once more, muttering beneath his breath.
“What?” Kaidan leans forward and presses a kiss to the tattoo between his shoulder blades, murmuring, “I do, you know.”
Lachlan huffs. “Like hell! That glint in your eyes says otherwise.”
“You don’t believe me?”
Another yawn sneaks in, encouraged as Kaidan’s hands still work around his bad hip. “I believe,” Lachlan says after the yawn passes, “you’re attempting to … what’s the expression? Pull my leg?”
Kaidan snorts softly and sits back. “Now there’s an idea.”
Lachlan rolls his eyes, cautiously using his prosthetic hand to scratch the side of his nose. It’s … strange to get used to and an even bigger challenge to get used to when playing his cello; but given the widespread destruction as a result of the war, even he, the Savior of the Galaxy, has to wait his turn for a cloned limb to be grown as a replacement. This, at least, is something to help him get by. Thankfully, the fingers have some semblance of individual mobility, but he learned early on not to take things too quickly lest he poke his eye out in the process.
His thoughts get interrupted when Kaidan’s hand wraps around his left ankle and tugs. Hard. “What the …?” He rolls onto his hip, sitting up fully this time as he bats the prosthetic arm at the man. “What is with you, tonight?”
“I told you; I have a confession to make.” Kaidan sits beside him again as he uses a towel to clean off his hands. His tone becomes more somber as he adds, “Kind of an important one, too.”
A flutter in Lachlan’s chest reminds him of a swarm of butterflies and his breath hitches. Gulping, he stares at Kaidan. “You … this isn’t going to be like that time on Arcturus, is it?” he asks, the hint of worry and hesitation clear in his tone.
Kaidan frowns. “Which time?”
“When you made me think you wanted nothing more to do with me and then you turned around and proposed instead.”
Kaidan sighs heavily and leans forward until their foreheads touch lightly. “No, this isn’t anything like that.” Before pulling back, he ghosts a quick, reassuring kiss across Lachlan’s lips. “I promise. Now lie down so I can finish, hmm?”
The kiss doesn’t last long enough as far as Lachlan is concerned, but he lies back on the floor without protest. As Kaidan’s hands move to his lower back, gently massaging up his spine, he asks, “Well, what is it?”
Kaidan laughs at the accusation, taking the opportunity to work a particularly tight section of Lachlan’s shoulder area with a bit more enthusiasm than is strictly necessary. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“What?” He starts to sit up again, but gets pushed right back down before he can even prop his elbows beneath him and gain leverage.
“I’m never going to finish this if you don’t hold still.”
Lachlan mutters some more beneath his breath, settles back down, and finishes with, “Don’t think for one moment I don’t know that you’re doing this on purpose!”
“Doing what?”
“That!”
Kaidan’s lips twitch. “What exactly do you mean by ‘that?’”
Instead of sitting up this time, Lachlan rolls onto his right shoulder and uses his good left arm to grab the collar of his husband’s shirt and tug him down close. “Acting all cagey like.” Since he has him close and Kaidan isn’t fighting to break away, Lachlan kisses him thoroughly before he releases him. There are times when Kaidan likes to tease him; Lachlan knows this well, and in all honestly enjoys it as much as the other man does. But tonight, it’s bordering on the nonsensical, and it’s driving him insane.
“Okay,” he murmurs, rolling over so he can slide both arms around Kaidan’s shoulders, “so, this confession?”
“Mmmm.” The laughter is still there, but gets lost between them for several minutes. “Confession?” he mumbles as he breaks the kiss. “What confession?”
Sighing, Lachlan’s head falls back to the rug with a soft thump. “You, sir, are a menace.”
Kaidan swoops back in for another kiss; Lachlan ducks to the side to avoid it, but Kaidan ends up connecting with his cheek instead before shifting to lie on the floor beside him. He loops an arm around Lachlan’s waist, laughing softly as he snuggles against his back, bringing his chin up on his shoulder. “So, do you remember how last year for our anniversary, I told you the gift I had for you would have to wait?”
Lachlan freezes a moment in panic, calming once he realizes they aren’t anywhere near their anniversary on the calendar. As it then bleeds out, leaving him just a bit weak in the knees, he replies, “You said you left it at the apartment?” Which, realistically means it was destroyed when Arcturus Station was destroyed at the beginning of the war.
“Mmm,” Kaidan agrees. “Well, I think I’ve found a replacement gift for you.”
Lachlan’s chest tightens; every time he turns around, especially of late, he finds yet another reason to love this man even more than he does after all these years. Last year was their tenth anniversary, unless you didn’t count the two years he was dead, and Kaidan had been disappointed how things had played out. Lachlan, of course, reassured him at the time, just as he does now. “I have you, I don’t need anything else.”
“Not true, and you know it,” Kaidan insists. He pushes to his feet, grabs the towel and takes a moment to wipe off remnants of the lotion he’d used on Lachlan’s shoulders before handing his partner his shirt.
Lachlan manages to tug the t-shirt on with minimal effort now – it’s taken time to learn how to do that, but with Kaidan’s help and practice over the past ten months, it comes easier each time. He accepts the hand Kaidan offers to help him to his feet. “Kaid, what’s going on?”
“You’ll see in a minute – .” A soft beep at Kaidan’s wrist cuts him off. “Or, right now, I guess.” The twinkle returns to his eyes as he grins and squeezes Lachlan’s hand. “Trust me?”
Lachlan squeezes back, even though he is thoroughly confused. “Haven’t I always?”
“Stay here.” Kaidan heads over to the door to their rented house and opens it. The chill of the winter air gusts inside almost immediately, and Lachlan cannot stop a soft giggle when the blast is accompanied by a burst of snowflakes that settle over Kaidan’s dark hair. “Going a bit grey there, don’t you think, Alenko?”
Kaidan chuckles. “No thanks to you!”
It takes a few minutes for the chill to start actively fighting against the warmth in the room, but even Lachlan notices the temperature dropping after a bit. While Kaidan continues to wait, his attention focused beyond the door, Lachlan nabs his N7 hoodie and tugs it on, complaining, “Just remember, you’re the only Canadian of the group, all right?”
“What’s the matter, Shepard? Can’t stand the cold?”
“Not without my armor, no.”
The door creaks a little as Kaidan pushes it open further just as Lachlan turns back toward him. Lachlan opens his mouth to add onto that comment but finds he has no voice nor breath as a familiar towheaded face steps inside the house. Unable to move, eyes widening with each second that passes, Lachlan’s heart lurches inside his chest. “Iain?” he croaks.
The younger Shepard is thinner than he recalls, perhaps a bit frailer than the last time they saw one another well over a year before, but Iain still manages to lunge toward his brother. Lachlan grasps him tightly, holding him in a fierce hug. Only when he releases him some moments later, wiping a few tears from his eyes, does he notice the other new arrival. “Coats? You … you found him?”
The dark haired man nods. “Took a while,” he admits with a rueful smile, “searched damn near every hospital in England for him, but … yeah.” Coats’ gaze drifts back and forth between the two brothers. “You Shepards are a stubborn lot, I’ll give you that much.”
Iain grins back at the man. “Just gives you a long term goal, Paddington.” He turns back to his brother, eyeing him a bit more closely now. Cautiously, he reaches out and touches the prosthetic hand. “Can you … can you play, Lach?”
Using his good arm, Lachlan pulls Iain back in for another hug. “Aye. It’s a bit complicated at the moment, but it works for now, don’t you worry.” This time when he releases the younger man, Kaidan and Coats have joined them. “So,” he says to his husband, “this is your confession, is it?”
Kaidan grins. “The confession was that I found a replacement present,” he corrects. “Think it’s worth it?”
