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good company

a self-indulgent vent fic where I bash cheating sha//karian fem//sheps (and by extension, kaidan bashing fics) and write some good kaidan/zaeed shit out of it

Relationship: Kaidan Alenko/Zaeed Massani

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7500

Description: Commander Shepard refused to let Kaidan Alenko rejoin the Normandy after the coup, and he goes to a bar to drink before whatever his next steps are... but he runs into one Zaeed Massani who learns that what he heard about Alenko around Horizon may not be the true picture of the newly minted Second Human Spectre

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"I don't think it'd work out, Major."

It’s a line Kaidan both expected to hear and dreaded to hear.

The final nail in the coffin. She had changed. The Normandy had changed.

But did she really change?

He had stared down many guns in his life. Having a good feeling whether or not one will go off. If the person with the finger on the trigger behind it truly meant it.

And for a brief second–many brief seconds–he thought she would’ve meant it when it was him between her and Udina.

Hell, after Horizon, he thought Vakarian damn near meant it alongside her. Even the damn mech that bashed his head in against the shuttle was there, holding a Locust with nothing behind those eyes.

Supposedly the AI the Normandy now housed was inside her. He figured that was another play.

You aren’t welcome here.

Yeah, the lack of visits while he was recovering was proof enough. Despite what was previously between them, as ill-advised as it was back when Saren and the mysterious idea of these Reapers was the original threat.

The near miss at the locker felt like something. A stirring in his chest he hadn’t felt with anyone… in a long while.

Things seemed to be good, then. Jane was stoic, harsh, but she listened. Sympathetic about BAaT. Vyrnnus. She checked in with everyone, but she always seemed to have more time for him.

And after they mutineered and rushed towards Ilos, checking on her seemed like the exact thing she would’ve done for him. Maybe there were some… choice words on her end before they shared her bed. Shared words of reassurance and hints of more as if they weren’t barreling towards something that could end it all.

All that left a bad taste in his mouth now. Memories tinged with bittersweet what-ifs after the Normandy destruction and her being taken away, then tinged with anger and regrets and even more fucking what-ifs after the disaster that was Horizon.

"Damn it, Alenko! You're so focused on Cerberus that you're ignoring the real threat!"

Vakarian was a common member of her squad even back on the SR-1. He wasn't surprised it was still the same then. And yet, there was a pang of disappointment when he seemed to also be blinded by Cerberus, even being an alien they were so supposedly against.

"I can see you won't listen to reason."

He knew right then that there was no going back. He still tried to push back.

"You show up after two years and tell me you're working with Cerberus. Where does reason figure into any of this?"

He said she had changed back then.

Yeah, he supposed she did change. Or maybe he did. Those memories now of what-ifs were mostly full of regrets.

Was he blind, then? Looking for something in someone, a risky relationship that could’ve cost their careers all because she said all the right damn things about BAaT?

Or did she come back–

No. He’s not going there. She’s likely long gone on that ship, doing whatever she needs to do to win this war. She said as much that she didn’t need him. Probably hasn’t given him any thought since she walked away.

And with what he heard from Tannor–no, Thane, that was the real name of the drell–she had also started something with Vakarian. He mentioned it in passing, seeing them on the Citadel together and recalling that he and Vakarian served together.

The other nail in the coffin, really. Two years had passed for him. But if what she said was true, that she had died and Cerberus brought her back–it wasn’t that long for her.

It didn’t take her long to move on when things didn’t go her way.

If he were to reflect on that long enough, he’d see a hint of that always there. Some of the things he heard from Ashley. The concerns she tried to bring up were shot down without a second thought, pushing back against most of what she had to say. Preferring agreements instead of arguments.

Yes-men, if he was being particularly forward.

But he had some push back. Wondering if some of the decisions she made were the right ones. Killing the rachni. Being careless with the colony. Refusing to send the fleet to protect the Ascension.

She pushed a little then, sure, but not in the same way she seemed to with Ash.

And now he’s here, not even sure what to think about all this.

Ash even took the time to visit him in the hospital. Wrex did, too. Close friends after their time with the SR-1, to the point he wished he spent more time with them than with Shepard, now. Another regret on the table.

But there was no ill will when they wished him well.

He stared into the glass of whiskey he had ordered at some random bar as far away from Bay D24 as he could reasonably get. The music was low, the crowd relatively thin, lights not too dim. Early enough in the time-cycle of the Citadel before most of the crowds would appear. And he doubted the coup helped with attendance either, even a couple days out from it as it was.

A few drinks, and then he’ll head back to his accommodations, return to Hackett on his orders, and do whatever he needs to make a difference in this war.

His purpose hadn’t been with the Normandy in years. Why the hell did he ever think it would return now of all times?

He let out a sigh and lifted his fingers to signal for another glass from the asari bartender when he saw someone sit down on an open stool next to him. Older man. Thinning blond, maybe brown hair starting to grey. Wearing a black, worn leather jacket. A hint of a tattoo on his neck, maybe.

There was something familiar about him. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what. If his head was in a different place, he might’ve wanted to say something. Try an opening. Buy his drink and see what happens next.

Not today.

Now the bartender’s attention was on the older man, and he let out a sigh, deciding to check his omnitool. Maybe he could call his mom again, see if she had any news on his dad. Use his newfound Spectre status along with his contacts and biotic company to see if he could find something, anything, or maybe–

“Drowning your fucking sorrows after you got denied?” A voice full of gravel and derision broke him out of his sudden spiral, and he realized it came from the older man.

Kaidan frowned, trying to figure out what the hell he was talking about when it finally hit him. Between the drell’s stories and the dossiers the Alliance put together on Shepard’s Cerberus crew, he figured out why he was so familiar.

Zaeed Massani. Veteran mercenary. Former Blue Suns. Only decided to work for Cerberus because it was just another job.

Great. Someone else from her crew that was certain to be just like Vakarian. Pushing back because he was “blind” about Cerberus. Sure. And what the hell was that coup, then? “I’m not sure how that is any of your damn business.” He scoffed, turning away from him. Thane seemed friendly enough to him, but the drell himself said he joined up after Horizon. Alongside an asari justicar he spoke fondly of. And Tali… he wondered where she was in all this mess.

“You walked away when it fucking mattered on Horizon. I’m not sure why you’re being so goddamn mopey when she decided to do the same to you,” he shot back, barely pausing once he received his own drink to down. From here, it also looked like whiskey. Unfortunately the asshole had similar tastes as him.

He was not in the mood for this. His grip on his empty glass tightened a little. “I didn’t see you in her little posse on that mission. Not sure why I should give a damn about what you’re saying now.”

Massani almost seemed a little impressed by that, if he read that raise of his eyebrow correctly and the longer pause of silence than he expected. “So you have some bark and bite on you. Not what I expected after–”

“Sounds like you’re working off second-hand information, Massani. Again, not sure why I should be sitting here listening to this shit when I could be enjoying my Mount Milgrom in peace.” He interrupted, singling for another drink and flashing some extra credits on his tab to hurry it up.

“Maybe I am,” he conceded, polishing off his own glass. “Maybe I shouldn’t be, considering after I helped her secure a Volus bombing fleet an hour ago, she started bitching about you all over again.”

“Again?” He asked, hesitantly, but now too morbidly curious for his own sake. What has he heard about him to act like… this?

“Horizon, obviously.” He rolled his eyes. “And considering you ordered yourself some goddamn Milgrom, you have to have some decent judgement rolling around in that head of yours, despite what I may have heard.”

Damn the similar taste in drinks.

“Do I even want to know?” Kaidan asked, more than a little exasperated as he received his next glass. “At this point, I want all this shit to be behind me. Horizon. Shepard. The Normandy. I’m not part of it anymore, so why should I even care.”

Massani shrugged before tapping his fingers on the bar. “I was thinking about something similar. She asked if I would join up, needing my gun and my skills. I said no.” He sounded bitter. Judgmental, perhaps. There was something there, too.

Other bridges she may have burnt.

“Didn’t want to go back to ‘old times?’”

He snorted. “Old times got me losing out on one last contract. I realized I didn’t give a fuck about old times even with the chance for some more glory.”

One last contract. Those had to be loaded words. Something he was trying to do while he was on the ship? The drell spoke of a lot of “last rites” she offered each crew member. Tying up loose ends before their trip through the relay. Sounded nice on paper, he had to admit.

Maybe there was more to that story, too.

“To saying the hell with old times.” He raised his new glass in a toast, and maybe as a little bit of a peace offering.

“To new beginnings.” Massani raised his own glass, and he thought he heard some real sincerity amongst all that gravel.

Kaidan took a long, slow sip, watching as he seemed to do the same. Looking over the glass and watching him.

Hm.

“New beginnings?” Kaidan asked as he set his glass down. “Hell of a thing to toast for in this war.”

Massani shrugged, pulling out a pack of cigarettes–Astra brand, laced with trace red sand for a sharp Eezo bite. He lit one with an old fashioned lighter, blowing out smoke without a second thought to anyone around him. But Kaidan didn't feel like he was just anyone anymore. “I've heard what they made you. Second goddamn human Spectre. And I have no contracts lined up for once.”

He nodded, watching him handle the cigarette between his fingers, a lazy grip. “Felt like an honor. Then the coup happened.” He scoffed. “At least the other councilors didn't take it away.”

“They probably need all the help they can goddamn get in this war. I was going to offer up some of my old contacts to her.”

Was. So he didn't.

He opened his mouth to ask when Massani offered the cigarette to him. Fuck it. He took it and blew out a malformed ring. He's out of practice, but hey, by the look now on Massani’s face, a bit of surprise and a smirk, it was worth the try.

He took it back from him with a nod, the smirk never quite leaving his face. “That last contract I mentioned earlier. She didn't abide by the terms I set. I about damn near wrote her off until I realized she had the chance to put a fucking bullet in my head and finish the job this time and didn't. So I decided I would stay and help her through that relay, and then I was done.”

He felt there was more to the story, but at this point, he found himself not particularly caring to know all the details. The important bit was that she did something against him, and that changed how Massani decided to deal with her. He wasn’t alone.

There were a lot of layers to his tone. A particular bite around a fucking bullet in my head and finish the job. The scar on the side of his face was impressive, framing his white eye quite… handsomely, he had to admit, if he had no self preservation left.

The mark of one hell of a survivor, too. His was a long since faded scar on his lip.

He was always pretty good at logic leaps. He took a shot. “That scar, then. Something similar?”

Another impressed look. Another pass of the cigarette. “And that shit is probably why the Council didn't piss you away after the shit that Udina pulled. Got it in one.” He turned his head to signal for another drink, and Kaidan got a better look at the tattoo on his neck.

Faded and worn Blue Suns symbol. Not very well taken care of, it seemed.

“I know what I can do. I don't like it when others try to dictate what they seem to think I can do.”

“I see that now.” Massani eyed him, looking him up and down. Kaidan followed his gaze, watching as another slow smirk made its way to his lips.

The asari sat down another drink. Massani took it and polished it off without taking his gaze off of him. He never backed down either as he finished off his own glass.

“Seems like we got some shit to square away.”

“And how do you suppose we deal with it?”

“I deal in credits. But I'll take a good goddamn story as long as there's truth in it.”

Maybe this is going where it could've been. Before he realized who this man was and if he was in a different state of mind. Or maybe it was just two people, seemingly wronged in some way by the same person, looking for common ground.

Either way, he'd take it. Something different before being shipped off. Whether it leads to an empty bottle of whiskey and an empty bed or tangled limbs and a whole lot of mess until the morning after.

Better than getting drunk and stumbling to his empty, basic, temporary apartment alone.

Kaidan stood up. Generated a credit chit to put on the bar. A high tip. Massani nodded and threw some credits of his own on it.

“I would offer my place for story and drink, but it’s barebones Alliance accommodations,” he offered, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his bomber jacket. “With some cheap whiskey that only works to get you drunk.

Massani snorted. “Better than the cheap-ass hostels I usually find myself in when I'm ever in these systems.”

“I don't know, those might actually have character.”

He snorted and was that a smile tugging on his lips as they walked out? “Depends on how you define character.”

“In this case? The opposite of spartan and utilitarian.”

“Not even a damn ship model? Shit. Might have to order one up to spruce up the place.”

Kaidan stopped at one of the skycar terminals, turning around after inputting a request for an automated ride. He was almost certain Massani would prefer not having a third party in the car, as much as Kaidan wasn’t fond of the idea of not having a driver in control.

He remembered the reports from Emily Wong back when they investigated the C-Sec traffic controllers.

“Got a favorite?” He raised an eyebrow. He actually loved putting those damn things together. Had a bunch in his childhood bedroom at one time.

Who knows what the state of his home is like now…

“The Alliance Dreadnought models were always badass. A bitch if you dropped one of the tiny fucking connectors, but I always like seeing those bastards come together.” Massani sounded pretty damn earnest about it.

“Good choice.” He smiled back. “Maybe I could spend some extra credits to get one delivered.”

Massani snorted. “It would take half the damn night to assemble it.”

“Next time, then.” Maybe he was teasing a little. Testing the waters. Something. He wasn’t even quite sure why he was opening up for more.

Maybe how quickly things shifted. Maybe how easily they seemed to talk about fuck all while waiting for a damn skycar.

Or it’s been too long since he’s just… lived. Existed somewhere beyond Alliance and now Spectre duties.

“Maybe so.” Massani said with a bit of a grunt, but it didn’t seem insincere.

The automated skycar landed on the platform next to him. A gentleman as always, he couldn’t help but allow Massani to enter first before sitting in the back next to him.

Kaidan entered his destination, took a deep breath as the skycar slowly lifted to the sky, and hoped this was a good idea.

Their talk was light, but mostly quiet on the way in. Massani was mostly playing around on his omnitool, so he did the same. Which shifted the conversation.

“What model are you running?” Massani asked without looking up.

“Logic Arrest, on a modified version of the last OS update since they took away some of my damn haptics,” he replied without much thought.

He let out a whistle. “Another goddamn point in your favor. Tried to get Shepard to use anything but a fucking Serrice Council Savant. Piece of shit wrapped in gold flakes.”

So, Massani was a bit of a techie. “I’ve never been fond of them myself.”

“Say what you really mean, Alenko.”

He rolled his eyes. “Nothing beats the shield enhancements of a Logic. Savant has pretty numbers but fuck all support when shit gets real. There, happy?”

“There you go. Knew you had it in you.”

The skycar started to land as the VI chimed in letting them know they reached their destination, so he closed out of his omnitool and let out a bit of a breath once it landed.

“If you don’t like these VI driven skycars, then why the hell did you order one?” Massani asked as the door opened, staying put before getting out.

Kaidan paused, more than a little surprised that he noticed. But should he really be surprised? The man was a seasoned merc. You don’t live as long as he has without being damn good at reading between the lines, noticing the shit no one else does.

“Figured you would prefer not having anyone in the driver’s seat,” he replied, honestly.

Massani scoffed. “I don’t give a damn either way. Now show me where you’re staying.”

Huh. Alright then.

He followed Massani out of the skycar and took the lead, scanning in using his credentials and getting access to the building. Technically, everyone was supposed to register any non-Alliance guests.

But he wasn’t just anyone anymore, and he figured Massani would prefer not having any sort of paper trail following him. His Spectre status can clearly come in handy.

It was a quick ride on the elevator to reach the floor. Designated for higher ranks like himself, the accommodations were single rooms. Tiny-ass condos, more like, but he did appreciate having a usable kitchen, a personal bathroom, a little bit of room to sit at a desk, and a decent sized bed that could… easily fit two grown men.

He really needs to get out more.

Room Alpha-Beta-3-2-1. “Here we are.” He waved his omnitool and waited for the access to confirm, the doors automatically opening once confirmed. “After you.” He offered with a gesture, which had Massani laughing.

“Don’t need to play up being a goddamn gentleman around me.”

“Old habits die hard.” He shrugged, locking the door behind them. A habit he also didn’t really have to do here, but after the coup? Better be safe than sorry.

“You weren’t kidding about the lack of character.” Massani snorted after walking around, taking in the place. He was almost certain he was surveying it as he was figuring out where everything was. It’s that look of his. A lazy stance but sharp gaze, taking in all the doors and windows. Corners and furniture.

“Better than nothing,” he replied, taking a second to take his boots off before heading to the kitchen. Sitting on the shelf was a bag he hadn’t yet unpacked. He took out the earlier mentioned cheap-ass whiskey and set it down on the table. Pulling out a couple of glasses from the cabinet–not really the best for whiskey, but better than the damn bottle–he sat them down and pulled out some ice trays he froze in a little bit of foresight for his evening.

Always pays to be prepared. “I don’t think this cheap shit can be enjoyed neat.”

Massani picked up the bottle with a laugh. “Nah. Pour me a glass.”

With a deft hand, he set some ice cubes in each glass and opened the bottle, pouring two glasses of whiskey evenly. He pushed one towards Massani and leaned against the counter, sipping it slowly. “You know, if you want, I could send someone to get your shit over here.”

“Really.” His tone was flat as he raised an eyebrow, pausing mid sip. Did he think he wasn’t serious?

“Might be better protected here, and I don’t mind using my rank or my new shiny title for good company.” No fun stumbling drunk “home” either. Even if he knew without hesitation Massani could protect himself.

“Set of guns. Two sets of armor. A decent sized bag of shit I can’t live without. Still on offer?”

Kaidan met his gaze and opened his omnitool. “I don’t make offers just to take them away.”

Massani took another long sip before gesturing. “Give me your contact so I can send you where my shit is stored. Some are at the hostel. Other shit I keep in storage until I’m out of here.”

With a local connection, he sent over his contact. A few moments later, Massani sent his contact over with the details. It didn’t take him long to get through to someone in the office and state his name, rank, and number… and new status before they were scrambling to complete his request.

Maybe he shouldn’t be so casual about the Spectre status… but a part of it does feel damn good. It’s earned.

And he’s always been told he needs to loosen up a little… Even by her.

He cleared his throat. “There. All settled.”

He wasn’t sure if Massani looked more impressed or amused... Or if something else was lurking underneath. “You are not one to be fucking underestimated.”

“No, I’m not,” he replied coyly, finishing off his glass and setting it down on the counter. “And yet there’s some that can’t help but keep doing it.”

“I’ll be sure to not be one of them.” Massani stepped forward a little, the space between them disappearing some as he finished off his own glass. “You didn’t just invite me here to share some cheap-ass, shitty whiskey.”

No, he didn’t.

Kaidan raised an eyebrow instead of replying.

Massani snorted, correcting his posture to his full height. He had a few inches on him. “And I didn’t come here to share some cheap-ass, shitty whiskey either.”

“It’s always better to share cheap-ass, shitty whiskey with good company.” Now he was really being coy, a smirk tugging on his lips as he kept his gaze locked onto Massani’s.

Massani rolled his eyes and closed the distance between them a moment later, rough lips pressed against his before he could even say a damn quip. He tasted of whiskey and old smoke. Kaidan parted his lips for him and let himself be backed up against the counter, holding onto the countertop as Massani tangled his hand in his hair, dislodging his curls from his perfect gelled look.

“Good company, hm?” Massani murmured against his lips, whispering into his ear. “I think you would’ve gone for me if I didn’t open my big goddamn mouth. If I was someone different.”

That perception again.

He shook his head and quickly opened his mouth at the slight furrow and frown on his face. “I would’ve if my head wasn’t in the place it was when this all started.”

Now Massani looked almost caught off guard for a brief moment, a slight widening of his eyes before returning back to his easy, lazy expression with just enough desire to keep him wanting more. “Really.”

“I think we just had a conversation about not underestimating me.”

“So your type is bitchy red heads and old, washed up mercs?”

Kaidan couldn’t help but snort before leaning in for another kiss. Massani swiped his tongue across his lips and he parted his way for him, letting him do whatever he goddamn pleases. He started to kiss down his jaw when they broke apart, and Kaidan tilted his head up with a gasp at a particularly sensitive spot. “I think it’s much less of the former, more of the latter.”

“I can work with that.” He was sure he could.

Kaidan reached to unzip Massani’s leather jacket but he stopped him, tilting his head towards the bedroom. “Better place for that.”

He nodded with a grin. “I think so, too.”

Massani–no, Zaeed at this point–reached for his hand and tugged him there, shutting the door behind them and pushing him back up against it without a breather. Kaidan moaned this time, enjoying the display, the easy way he just takes whatever he wants. A confidence gained, perhaps, from years of experience.

“Keep making sounds like that, and I’ll have my way with you before you say ‘please.’” Zaeed took off his jacket, revealing a sleeve of impressive ink on his arm, tossing it on a nearby chair. It looked to be a pattern of some sort, various shapes and geometrics and dark, black ink circling his arm.

Kaidan took a moment to take off his jacket too, untucking his turtleneck from his pants. “I think I can manage that for you.” He liked being vocal and receiving it in turn. A sign of pleasure and enjoyment. It was a hell of a turn on.

Zaeed grinned, hooking a finger in the neck of his turtleneck. “Marks?”

Kaidan shook his head briefly. “I’m returning to the Fifth Fleet tomorrow afternoon. Only where they can be hidden.” If he was nice enough to ask… but he wouldn’t have given that much of a shit if he left a few stray ones. Concealer and good-quality topical medi-paste was good enough.

“I’ll keep you looking prim and proper for the Alliance. But I’ll know where you aren’t.” Ownership, maybe? Perhaps that was his game. His enjoyment out of this. He winked before pulling up his sweater, helping him out of it. His dogtags were cool against his heated skin, and he shivered slightly, not sure if it was more in anticipation or temperature.

Kaidan nodded before stealing another kiss, but this time, he broke apart before he could deepen in, leaning in to kiss the deep scar on his cheek. He stilled, watching his reaction, feeling Zaeed tense slightly before nodding briefly. He continued to pepper kisses on the scar framing his eye, wondering the story, wondering what the hell he survived that made him keep living this life anyway.

Zaeed thumbed the scar on Kaidan’s lip a moment later. “Story for a goddamn story.”

He remembered what Ash told him when he told her about BAaT in the years between. You don’t get a scar like that unless someone was trying to kill you.

And looking at Zaeed’s? No, you don’t.

“Later.” Kaidan looked at the bed and back at him. “Better place for that, too.”

Zaeed chuckled, a gravelly, warm thing that shot straight down somewhere he didn’t want to be thinking about right now. “Yeah, I believe there is.”

He stepped back, undoing his belt and tossing it aside. Kaidan did the same with his before moving to sit and lean back on the bed, spreading his legs and trailing his hand down his chest to cup his crotch with a groan. He raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“Tease.” Zaeed said it with a growl, taking no time before climbing on top of him. Kaidan groaned, parting his lips for him once more and moving to tug at the hem of his shirt. They broke apart briefly to remove the offending garment, before hands were on skin, roaming, touching, learning. Feeling scars and hard muscle and rough skin underneath his touch, every bit a story he wants to dedicate to memory.

Zaeed may have called him a tease, but he was damn near one. Light kisses and licks down his neck before he latched onto one of his nipples, licking and sucking and drawing out moans and gasps. Blunt nails against the other before he swapped sides, nipping at the skin to draw out marks around his prize. Every touch was going straight down to his core, his cock more interested by the second, wanting more.

“Yes, just like that–fuck!” He wasn’t expecting him to blow air, the temperature almost a shock but a feeling of quick pleasure after. Zaeed smirked.

“That’s what I want to hear.” A bit of praise. Kaidan nodded, spreading his legs and closing his eyes as he continued to trail downward, nipping and biting and kissing and licking. Stopping once he reached his pants with another easy smirk before hooking his fingers underneath the hem.

Desperately, quickly, Kaidan helped him remove his pants and underwear in one go, feeling vulnerable underneath his gaze, underneath his still partially clothed form. He let out a gasp as the release of pressure around his cock, looking at Zaeed with what he knew was unhidden desire and want and more.

“You like this, don’t you? Wearing nothing while I’m still here–” He rolled his clothed hips against his, both of them letting out a sound of pleasure. Gravel versus rasp. “But I won’t be giving that to you now.”

“Later, then?” He couldn’t help but challenge.

“Maybe so.” Zaeed removed his pants, revealing an impressive cock. Thick, hard, framed by muscled, large thighs. “Like what you see?”

“More than.” He pointed to the nightstand. “Supplies are in there.”

Zaeed nodded, taking a moment to grab a small bottle of lube. He picked up a few condoms and eyed Kaidan, asking a question with a simple raise of an eyebrow.

He shook his head. Feeling risky? Maybe. But he wanted more, wanted it all, wanted to experience as much as he could before it was back to reality and back to the Reaper War.

He returned to his position on top of him a moment later, back to claiming his lips, back to drawing sounds of each other. Kaidan trailed his hand down his chest, reaching up to tease and touch at his skin, his nipples, his scars–his gaze going back down to his cock.

Zaeed licked his hand before taking both of their cocks in his hand. A sight that he enjoyed, as crass as it was. A groan of his name escaped his lips as he pumped them a few times, slicking their skin and his hand. He resisted the urge to buck up into his grip, feeling his biotics starting to stir underneath his skin.

Let loose. He’s the type to like it.

A mental snap, and then his corona appeared, vibrant blue wisps surrounding his skin and lighting up the room in blue amongst the warm, low light. Zaeed slowed his touch, leaning in to claim his lips again. “That’s what I want to see. Beautiful.”

And there goes that feeling he doesn’t want to think about right now again. “Figured you would like it.”

His smirk turned into more of a smile, a true grin, perhaps. “I’m not the only perceptive one here. Hands and knees.”

From behind? Alright. He’s fine with that. Zaeed gave him some room to move into position, spreading his legs for him once he felt him settled behind him. The cap of the lube seemed loud when he popped it off, out of anticipation for what was coming next.

It didn’t take long for a lubed finger to start circling his hole before sinking in, pulling out a groan from his lips. It’s been ages since he’s had someone. Anything other than his own fingers or a toy. Nothing beats the feeling of another. Especially thick, calloused fingers.

He added another finger, slowly working him open. “It’s been a while for you, hasn’t it? You needed this from me.”

He nodded, letting out a breath between gasps. “Too fucking long.”

“Seems like we were in the right place at the right time.”

He started to thrust and angle his fingers, maybe sensing he was ready for more. Or liked it rough by the sounds he was making. Wanting to thrust back and urge him deeper, for more, more, more. His biotics ebbed and flowed with his pleasure, becoming less of a steady wisp and more of an erratic flicker. Another sign for him to read.

A third joined the other two, damn near fucking him with his fingers at this point. His cock was leaking, depserate for more, desperate to be filled and fucked at this point. He pushed back against his fingers, feeling them brush against his prostate, letting out a moan of his name. “Zaeed–more!”

A chuckle from behind. “At least you didn’t say please.”

“I remembered what you said.” He turned to look at him. “Bastard.”

He continued to chuckle even as he pulled his fingers out of him. “I aim to please.”

He whined a little at the loss, letting out a breath. “I can see that you do.” He knows his biotics are saying everything he isn’t saying. Erratic. Chaotic. Everything he tries to stay the hell away from.

But he supposed that’s why he enjoyed shit like this. Where he can let loose because that’s where it’s expected, where it’s wanted, where it’s encouraged.

Zaeed grunted a little behind him as he heard that cap again. Imaging his hand sliding against slick skin. Gathering precome in his hand as he got himself ready for him. He licked his lips at the thought.

This was bound to be just one night. Remember that.

He clenched his hands in the sheets as he felt Zaeed’s hands grab at his hips, lining himself up with him. He turned again to look at him with a nod. “What are you waiting for?” He said a moment later, feeling the head of his cock brush against his hole, holding back a groan.

“Not one goddamn thing at all.” Zaeed slowly thrusted inside, his groan mixing with the moan he let out at finally being filled, as he sank inside. Already feeling so full as he let out a breath to steady himself, his biotics falling a little still around him as he tried to reign in some control.

“So goddamn tight,” he grunted. “I want to see how long it takes for that control of yours to be lost again.”

It won’t take much. Kaidan was certain he knew it, too. “Go ahead. Take it.”

And he did, setting a deep, fast, and hard pace, snapping his hips against his skin. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air.

Every thrust pulled out a sound of pleasure, as he was hitting just the right angle. His biotics were steady for only a few moments before they were back to pulsing erratically, in and out, glowing whips starting to float away from his skin.

Zaeed chuckled, but didn’t say a damn word, but he knew what the bastard was thinking as he reduced him to nothing but a conduit of pleasure.

He reached for his neglected cock, pumping it in time with his thrusts. “I was going to let you come untouched, but I enjoy this more.”

He knew he wasn't going to last long after that.

“So do I,” he breathed out, flexing one of his hands. A mnemonic begging to be released. A little spark of dark energy left him to hit him somewhere. He didn’t give a shit where. Just enough to show that he could play a similar game.

“Hell, Kaidan. There more where that came from?” He sounded impressed but a little strained. He was close, too.

And he knew it wouldn’t take much more. Every thrust was at the right angle. Deep and hard and everything he craved. Hands that were sure to leave marks, if not bruises at the grip he had against his skin. Moans and grunts and gasps and whines shared between them.

Heat pooled in his core. His biotics felt tight, sharp. “Zaeed, I’m going to–fuck!”

One particularly hard thrust made him lose that last grip he had on his biotics, a flare unleashed, a wave of cobalt blue that almost seemed to shake the room. Crackling dark energy that surged over his skin before disappearing.

He came all over his hand a moment later, moaning his name at the intense feeling, the intense pleasure.

“Damn.” Zaeed sounded impressed. He would’ve loved to see his face as he let loose. “I’m not far behind, shit Kaidan–”

He came deep inside him, a rush of warmth as he continued to shallowly thrust inside him. Bordering on overstimulation at this point, but he didn’t care, letting out soft whines as he took whatever he needed from him, until he stilled. He let out a gasp of surprise as Zaeed pulled out, feeling his come starting to leak out, but his attention was on quickly on him as he rolled on his back, deciding to not give a fuck about the mess right now.

Zaeed was licking his hand clean of Kadian’s own release, looking more than just satisfied. Now, that was hot. He was sure it showed on his face. He didn’t comment on it, surprisingly. “I’ve been with biotics before, but none like that. Shit, felt like I was feeling you for a moment.”

“Too much?” Kaidan furrowed his eyebrows.

Zaeed answered by collapsing against him, pulling him into a bit of a cuddle of all things. “Surprising as hell, but I liked it. Different, but good.”

He kind of hated that they were on top of the covers right now. “Good, you had me a bit worried there for a second.” He curled up a little closer, feeling a bit of a twinge. Yeah, he’s going to feel that later.

“If I had a fucking problem, I would’ve said something. Relax.”

Kaidan snorted. “Easier said than done.”

“Another story?”

“Something like that.”

Zaeed grunted. “We both have our fair share of those, then.”

He looked at him. His face was a little softer in the afterglow. Harsh lines of the scars and aging still there, yes, but less of that… hard look he seemed to keep as a baseline.

“I did get the good company I wanted out of this,” Kaidan said, a little quieter. A little more vulnerable. Good company felt like a way of saying something more without saying the obvious bit out loud.

“So did I, even if I had the worst goddamn intel going in.” He sounded thoughtful, not so much deprecating about it.

“But you corrected it and changed the parameters. No complaints there.” He let out a bit of a laugh. His omnitool pinged and he laughed a little harder. “Terrible timing, Alliance.”

“My shit? They can leave it outside the goddamn door. It’s all biometrically linked to me. Sorry to the poor bastard who tries to override my shit.”

Damn, that was also hot. “I’ll leave them on read, then.”

“You better. I’m not moving an inch.”

“Not even to get the covers?”

Zaeed gave him a look that almost looked like he wanted to strangle him before they shimmied their way to unmaking the bed enough so they could get comfortable underneath the covers. He pulled him back against him, almost possessively, it felt like.

“Happy?”

“Very much so.”

He grunted and the silence settled between them. What was this, now? Kaidan almost figured he would be up and leaving after a bit of afterglow. Not quite this.

But he wasn’t going to complain one goddamn bit. He’ll take it for what it is.

“You said you were going with the Fifth Fleet?” Zaeed asked after a few long moments of quiet breathing between them. “Back with Admiral Hackett, yes.” He figured he knew the name, and if he didn’t, he would ask. Or if he cared enough to know.

“I was going to find a few of my old contacts. See who was still breathing and able to give a shit. Was going to offer them to her, but now?” He snorted, pointing to the scar on his face. “I had the chance to get rid of the bastard who did this to me, for good, and she blew it. I guess either way she’s getting some fucking benefit, but it won’t be under her terms.”

Damn. He wasn’t expecting any of that. Or more to the story that was Zaeed Massani. She denied him revenge? That was the last contract? That didn’t seem like her, but he knew there was something he wasn’t saying. He couldn’t bring himself to care right now, though. “If they would be willing to work with the Fifth Fleet, I think we would be happy to have them.”

Guess he was also the type to talk business after a good fuck. He was always a little too thoughtful himself.

“And another washed up–”

Maybe he jumped the gun by leaning in for another kiss, but there was something about the way he said that… it gave him hope despite the obvious self-deprecation. When they pulled apart, something else softened in Zaeed’s features. “I wouldn’t call you washed-up. Our dossiers called you legendary. Ruthless. Efficient. Maybe that’s what we need right now.”

“In this fucking war? No shit.” It was an easy quip by his tone, but there was still something more lingering underneath.

He met his gaze. Mismatched eyes to his deep brown. “If you want to come with… I’ll be happy to keep having good company with me.”

Zaeed let out a laugh. “I’m sure you will. Fuck it. I’ll stick around for a bit. See where this shit goes. I can always step away.”

That feeling returned. And this time, he wasn’t going to push it away. Not completely, at least. He smiled, reaching for his hand to squeeze briefly. He didn’t quite pull away. And neither did Zaeed.

“We won’t hold you to anything, I promise.”

“You promise? Going to put a nice large Spectre Fuck You seal on it for me?” He sounded amused, but there still was that underlying current of something he couldn’t quite place.

“If that’s what it takes to have–”

“Good goddamn company. Shit. You’re really running with that one.” He held back a laugh at how flat his tone was.

“Maybe so, but it’s kind of funny. The last kind of thing we expected after we realized who we were sitting next to at that bar,” he offered.

Zaeed nodded. “I don’t disagree. Sure, I’ll take it. Wish we brought those bottles in here.”

Well… he felt a little steadier with his biotics, and he pulled his little go bag towards them. Zaeed had a bit of a questioning expression on his face, until he pulled out a flask. “I do have a little bit of good shit in here.”

They sat up as Zaeed took it out of his hand once he plucked it out of his biotic pull. He unscrewed the lid and took a swig, about downing half the thing and coughing. “To good goddamn company. And whatever the hell that means at this point.”

He took the flask from him. “To good goddamn company. And whatever the future holds.” He finished the rest off, barely holding back a cough by the time he was done.

Sure. Good company. That’s what this can be.

And if it settles some of the feelings starting to bloom, then it’s got to be a good thing.

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