OC Kiss #6 with @keriweird's Johnny Shepard-Itō and my Daniel Shepard. I hope you like it! I am on a roll with these!
The alcohol burned as he swallowed, another shot gone, the glasses lined up on the bar like the graves of so many soldiers lost in this war. He knew somewhere up on the Silversun Strip, parties still raged late into the night cycle, not a single rich piece of shit caring past their next drink, their next fuck. Usually, Daniel would be with them, drinking himself into oblivion for no other reason than he could. On occasion, it felt nice to loosen up, to have his head dizzy with alcohol, to feel nothing for a few hours.
But while millions were being slaughtered, so far out of reach, no hope for them as the Reapers burned entire civilizations to rubble, he felt sick, pissed.
All it took for him to snap was for the idiot next to him at the bar comment on his Alliance BDUs. Criticizing how he should be out on the front lines, protecting the Citadel before the Reapers attacked, and die like a good little lapdog.
He didn’t even remember who threw the first punch.
Now, he sat on the bed of his Alliance rented hotel room on the Presidium, the cuts on his cheek pulling whenever he moved his mouth. Glancing up at the ceiling, the light burned his retinas, and wished that if the end was coming, it’d come faster. Because if the war continued to drag on as it had, he might not even care if the entire Citadel was demolished by the end.
The door swished open and he shot a glare in its direction, ready to snap at the first person who walked in: Kaidan, Wrex, Garrus, Liara… he wasn’t picky at this point. Hell, Hacket could’ve walked in and Daniel probably would have jumped down his thraot.
Except it wasn’t any of his supposed friends, and it wasn’t the Alliance. At least, not anyone who’d have anything to do with ending his career over a drunken fistfight. It was worse than that.
It was his boyfriend.
Johnny stood there in the glow of the ugly yellow lights, watching him with dark eyes that said nothing of what he thought. Of the situation or little else. Daniel swallowed against his sudden nerves, glancing away from the probing gaze leveled in his direction.
“Say something.” He muttered, flexing his hand, wincing as the cuts on his knuckles split open again. Blood seeped from the wounds, bright against his pale skin. “Yell, if you must. Just stop fucking standing there.”
Johnny moved closer, setting a first aid kit next to him, the red package looking like the blood on his skin. “You’re an idiot.”
“We’ve established that years ago.” Daniel watched him out of the corner of his eye. His boyfriend snorted, a laugh crossed with a huff, before opening the kit and pulling out some medigel and sterile cleaning pads. “Who called you?”
“Kaidan.” Johnny paused, side eying him briefly before turning back to his duties. “Did you at least win the fight this time?”
Daniel grinned, glad to see Johnny was in good humor. Lately, things had been dire, he wasn’t sure if either of them knew how to smile anymore. “What sort of question is that? Do you reminder who you’re talking to?”
“You aren’t pulling that Hero of Elysium bullshit, are you?” Johnny shifted his entire body to stand between Daniel’s spread legs before pressing one of the pads against a cut on his forehead. Daniel hissed at the contact, the stinging of the alcohol a reminder that he was a living human being. For now, at least. “No one cares about that anymore, Daniel.”
One of his hands snaked around Johnny’s leg, keeping him close as he continued to sweep a clean pad over every cut on his face, meticulous in his work, eyes focused on what he was doing. The muscles in his thigh tensed at the touch, but he didn’t move away, much to Daniel’s relief. His body was solid, a wall of muscle that was a weapon on the battlefield. But here, every touch was gentle and precise, as if he was constructing a work of art and any mistake would end in disaster.
If an infection could be considered a disaster in the current state of the galaxy.
“You care about it.” Daniel pointed out, running the flat of his hand up Johnny’s thigh, pausing at where his ass curved. The temptation to go farther was almost too much to deny. “You bring it up far more than I do.”
Johnny rolled his eyes to the ceiling, setting the used wipes in a bag. Then he moved on to the medigel, carefully applying it to each wound. “I love you, Daniel…”
Daniel heard the ‘but’ before he continued. There was always a ‘but’ with Johnny. Much like the one that filled his hand now. Cupping Johnny’s ass, he pulled him closer, his knees bumping against Daniel more suggestively than he expected. “That was never in question.”
“But-” The medigel didn’t sting, but it felt strangely cool against his skin as Johnny worked. “I’m not going to inflate your ego anymore than the bureaucrats of the galaxy already have.”
Daniel grinned, leaning forward to brush a kiss against Johnny’s chest, feeling his warm skin beneath the thin fabric. “There are other things willing to be inflated by your mouth.”
“Daniel.” Johnny’s voice was soft, as gentle as the hands that rested against his shoulders. His lips pressed against Daniel’s shaggy blond hair, a kiss that he certainly didn’t deserve after the events of the night.
“Hmm?”
His hands trailed up to grip Johnny’s waistband, strong muscles shifting beneath his palms. Johnny pulled back slightly so that he could put a finger beneath Daniel’s chin, tipping his face up to meet dark eyes.
“Please, I beg you, just shut up.”
Daniel laughed before burying his face in Johnny’s chest, holding him tightly in the following silence, grateful to have someone to live for, to fight for.
Citadel. June fourth. 1600 hours sharp. Docking bay D24.
The message from my brother blinked on my datapad one more time, as it had a hundred times before. Even after weeks of preparation, it still didn’t feel real.
The nerves. The anticipation. The weight of hope pressing against every breath.
Alex the Great, in his usual wisdom, seemed to understand.
He nudged my leg gently, glanced up with those intelligent, amber eyes, and gave a soft meow.
I scooped him up and set him on my shoulder. Another meow. Like a thank-you.
The docks were crowded, bustling as always.
A hanar floated by in quiet grace.
Asari cadets stood in a tight formation, murmuring mantras beneath their breath, stealing glances at their stone-faced commander.
A trio of anxious volus wheezed past, struggling to keep pace with their luggage and each other.
And then-
I saw him.
Up ahead.
Waving.
That same smile I remembered, wide and open like always.
My breath caught.
One heartbeat. Two.
Then I was moving.
Quick strides. No hesitation.
He wasn’t a hologram.
Not a dream.
He was real.
He was here.
My arms wrapped around him. tight , disbelieving. Then his arms, stronger than I remembered, pulled me close.
Then Dad joined.
Then Mom.
She tried to stay composed. Spine straight, voice steady. But even she couldn’t resist.
And in that moment, with all of us together again
Alexander perched proudly on my shoulder.
I felt something I hadn’t in a long time.
I felt whole.
Eh ... I think I might be done with this initial experiment piece. Definitely finding the harder wax pencil crayons a little tricky to work with on a 9x12" size paper.
