#mark shepard (schaefer)

[alchemist-after-dark]

Happy Thirsty Thursday-Kink-tober-ween!

Have some werewolves knotting, lol

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Time for this to live somewhere other than tumblr, so here it is. I'd been sitting on posting it to AO3 until I got to this point in the main story, but...I wanted it out now, dang it. So here it is, lol

[alchemist-after-dark]

Got Your Six

I am breaking my semi-hiatus to bring you another request from the marvelous miss @mallaidhsomo! It all started with this one and after talking about potentials and possibilities, yeah, there's definitely something there to build off of, lol. Cute ass nicknames and everything, lol *coughCRICKETcoughcough* And then she issued a prompt of "Touching - Shielding the other with their body" and our boys again from that universe. I don't back down from challenges, lol.

So here it is.

Enjoy, babes. *shoves sunglasses up nose* NSFW under the cut

~~*~~

Eric sighed. Tonight was…well, it was a night out on the entertainment strip of Arcturus, and those usually were fun. And this one by all rights should be, considering. He scanned the crowd, looking for his boyfriend, and saw him holding up a standing table along the edge of the bar with his distinctive buzzcut and usual drink. Rum and coke with a lime wedge. No ‘save me’ signal pineapple wedge in sight. Fuck. He pursed his lips; couldn’t use that as an excuse to wriggle away from his date. Veronica. That’s what her name was, he was pretty sure.

She was a red-headed bombshell with more curves than a quarian, blue eyes batting up at him that truthfully didn’t hold a candle to the pair he’d only been able to look in again a few days ago, and impromptu touches on his arm he wasn’t quite sure how to handle. The vibe was…off. Small talk usually wasn’t this painfully awkward, and yet.

“So, good lookin’, what did you have in mind? Talking? Dancing?” She bit her bottom lip suggestively and looked up at him through her mascaraed eyelashes; they were a little overdone and clumpy. It would have been too snappish a response to remind her his name was Eric.

“I dunno. I’m enjoying the view.”

It was the right flirt-thing to say and she giggled, brushing her fiery mane out of the way as she leaned into his arm again. He flicked his gaze back to Mark, sighing internally. He probably should’ve just canceled the date and stayed in with his partner; open relationship or not, Mark’d just gotten back from deployment a few days ago and he missed the fucker, but he’d already run into Veronica a few days before that and set up a date to scratch an itch.

He wasn’t itchy for that anymore. Not since the most satisfying ‘scratch’ was back on Arcturus again, anyway.

He’d told Mark about it up front after they’d said their hellos and lost their clothes, and his boyfriend had been amicable to potentially finding someone himself while Eric met Veronica for the evening. At the time, it’d seemed like a fine idea; he liked watching Mark seduce someone and watching their bodies move, and also liked that Mark got off on the same with him. It was an ego stroke on both their parts that they could affect others like that and still come home to each other afterwards; who knew it would also be such a comfortable existence.

“Hope it’s a good one,” Veronica said in his ear, standing up on tiptoe and pressing her ample chest into his arm to do so.

“No complaints on my end.” He gave her a tight smile and almost felt bad. Ordinarily he’d be more interested, but… Maybe he could find some way of ducking out, set a rain check up for when he was feeling more up to it and he and Mark were more settled back into their daily routine. She seemed sweet enough, anyway. And at the moment she certainly seemed like she was interested.

“Nor on mine…” Her fingers were back on his arm again, light as a feather before they were gone. “I’m interested to see if the view gets better, though.”

Bold thing. He gave her another smile, less tight than before. Maybe she’d never done a hook-up before; she had an odd blend of shy-but-pushy.

“Oh, I’m sure…” He let his smile drop into a devious smirk and slid just out of reach. “I’m a little thirsty, though, and we’re at a bar. Want to get a drink?” Maybe he’d warm up to it by the time they pushed their way through the crowd and the night would get back on track. And if not, well, he’d figure out an exit strategy and go play wingman for his partner.

“I would! I’m buying, though.” She bit her lower lip again and he didn’t bother to tell her some of her lipstick was on her teeth.

“Sure, sounds good to me.” He tensed when she sidled up next to him and slid her hand in the back pocket of his jeans, steering him towards the bar and leaning her head on his arm. He tried to slip out of her grasp and she attached her other hand on his elbow, gripping it to pull him along.

Oh, fuck no. Nope. She was parading him like a show dog and the leash was short. No question anymore; he was out. Time to call for extraction.

"What're you drinking?"

"Gimme something blue." Just like how Mark’s signal to him for rescue was a pineapple wedge on the rim of his drink, Eric’s was some ridiculously bright blue concoction; didn’t matter what the fuck it was.

"You don't have a particular drink you want?"

"Nope, just something blue."

"...You sure you don't care what?" She furrowed her carefully tweezed brows into a quizzical pout at him. Wasted effort.

"If I did, I'd tell you. Blue drink, that’s all." The music pounding from the speakers probably hid the shortness of his words. Veronica kept her eyes on him while she ordered, so it wasn’t even like he could attempt to slip away.

Fuck.

Nails traced on the inside skin of his elbow, making his skin crawl. Memories floated in the back of his head of unwanted touches, undesired scratches and marks on his skin from clients who treated him like the object they thought of him as, of being objectified to the point of being dehumanized, and swallowed hard. Never again.

After a minute that took an eternity, she had a cosmo and he had a…who the hell knew. It was pretty, he supposed, with a glowing ice cube that showed off the curves of the specialty glass. It smelled like cotton candy furniture varnish. He scanned the wall again, looking for Mark. Ha, found him. He stared, willing his boyfriend to turn his head and—

Success.

“To a fun night ahead of us,” she said, letting go of his elbow to hold up her cosmo.

“Cheers.” He locked eyes with him, holding up a drink to toast him, then sipped the glowing blue monstrosity. Tasted about as good as it smelled. Mark immediately shoved himself off the wall, weaving through the crowd, holding his own drink above the rabbles’ heads. Eric exhaled sharply in relief as he placed it back on the bar in front of him.

“Hey there, handsome. Come here often?”

Mark bodily slipped between him and Veronica, blocking her from him.

Thank fuck.

“Uh...excuse me!” She poked Mark on the arm, scowling. “That was very rude.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Who’re you?” The taller man quirked an eyebrow, turning his head to glance at her over his shoulder and not sounding apologetic in the slightest.

“Veronica,” she said, indignantly placing her hands on her hips after doing a double take at the scars spiderwebbing around his partner’s left eye and cheek.

“Nice to meetcha, Verruca.”

She scowled up at them. “I wish I could say the same for you.”

“Uh huh. Ow, my pride. Get lost, sweetcheeks,” his partner deadpanned at her over a sip.

“No. You’re interrupting my date. You get lost.”

“See, that actually would work if I gave a shit. But I don’t.” Mark turned to face her more fully, taking another sip of his rum and coke, draping his other arm around Eric’s shoulders.

There was an angry flush to her cheeks now. “And who are you? Hm?”

“The guy who’s gonna fuck him tonight. So you see how you’re bein’ a problem at the moment.”

Well, that was certainly one way to get her gone.

“Eric! Aren’t you going to do something?” Her indignation was almost comical at this point.

“I mean, I thanked you for the drink.” He had a hard time hiding his grin, slipping his own fingers along Mark’s lower back along the waistband of his jeans. “But I think my boyfriend raised a good point.”

She scoffed in disgust. “Unbelievable. Fuck you both.”

“Probably would have been an option earlier in the evenin’, but I’m not impressed with your attitude at the moment. It’s a turn-off. Probably have better luck pickin’ up a guy if you had a better one,” Mark advised.

She glared at him.

“Just sayin.” His partner’s blithe remark pushed Eric over the edge and he stifled a laugh, hiding his face in Mark’s shoulder.

Veronica didn’t even say anything else; she turned on her heel and stalked away. They watched her retreating form for a moment before Eric kissed him on the cheek.

“Thanks.”

“Got your six.” Mark’s ears flushed in the low light.

“Yeah, you do.”

~~*~~

Mark watched her leave before turning his full attention back to his partner. That was an unfortunate turn of events; he liked seeing Eric have fun with people when he himself wasn’t feeling like being out in public so much, but not when it turned sour like this. When it turned out alright, Eric seemed to come alive, a spark in his eye and drawing energy from the crowds watching him.

Didn’t look like that was the case tonight, leider. It clenched his gut to see his partner tense and uncomfortable.

“...You ok?”

He asked as quietly as he could, lips brushing against Eric’s ear before he pressed a soft kiss on his cheek. Last thing he wanted was his partner being brought back to bad memories from his days in the Reds; he knew his history and it only made him admire how strong his partner was.

“Better now.”

“Ausgezeichnet, babe. You wanna scram? Or stay for a bit?”

Eric leaned into him and tucked his fingers under the waistband of Mark’s jeans more securely, gazing over the crowded bar. “Stay for now. Get an actual drink this time instead of whatever that blue bullshit was.”

“Mkay. Your call.” They flagged the bartender again.

“Two shots of rum…you want anything?” Eric glanced at him over his shoulder.

“Same thing, please. Could use a palate cleanser, heh.”

“Four shots, actually. Top shelf.” Eric specified, leaning on the shiny surface under the neon. Mark shoved his credit chit over the bar and the bartender took it, setting up four shots in front of them and swiping the chit before handing it back. His partner’s shoulders were relaxing slowly from their tense set as they picked up their first shot glasses. “Egészségedre.”

“Prost.”

The shot glasses clinked together before they threw them back with nary a wince from either of them and Eric sighed, gently hip-checking him with a lazy grin that promised trouble. “So, big guy. Any prospects? Can help you try to land one if you want.”

He huffed in amusement at the nickname. “Naw. Too distracted at the moment, but I’m not upset at it.”

“Oh?” Eric tilted his head to the side and hip-checked him again. “By what? Do tell.”

“You know what. Smartass.” Mark bumped him back, leaning into him a moment and his partner chuckled.

“Yeah, but I like hearing it all the same.” Eric nodded at the remaining shots and they took them, smoother than the first ones, even, and his partner leaned on his shoulder with a sigh. “What a fuckup that was.”

Mark nudged his fingers along Eric’s on the bartop, letting him know his hand was available if Eric wanted to hold it, and sure enough, their fingers wound up woven together in moments. He smiled to himself and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“I’m distracted by the most overgrown cricket I have ever had the pleasure of meetin’, and that includes the keepers on the Presidium. Ah well. At least he’s handsome.”

Eric chuckled and flipped their joined hands over on the bar to palms up, leaning into him further, hazel eyes sparkling gold in the neons. “That so.” He tipped his head for a kiss.

“Mhm. Fan-fuckin-tastic ass, too.”

“Well, good. Glad you like it so much. Because you’re kinda stuck with it.” Eric ducked his head and squeezed his hand again, playing with Mark’s fingers curled around in his upturned palm. Mark glanced at it, then frowned, peering closer at red lines tracing the inside of his partner’s elbow on his pale skin. Oh, hell no.

“...what the fuck.” It came out more a growl than he meant it to.

“What?” Eric asked, looking nonplussed at him before following his gaze down at his arm. “Oh.” His partner’s jaw clenched as he put his other hand over his elbow to try and cover it up. Mark slid his free hand underneath Eric’s on it, stroking his thumb over the slightly raised lines. “Territorial bitch. It’s fine. Rather this than her trying to piss on me to claim ownership or something.”

The words were light and nonchalant, but he was avoiding looking at his arm and his jaw was still flexing. It twisted Mark’s gut to see. He rested his chin on Eric’s shoulder, bumping his head against his partner’s soft curls.

“Yeah, well. She doesn’t get to claim you. I do. As much as you want me to, anyway.” He punctuated it with a gentle nip on Eric’s earlobe, running his thumb over the lines again. Eric shivered, leaning into him and tipping his head into Mark’s. “And I’m yours for the night. Whatever you wanna do.”

“Are you, now? Ooo…” That caught his partner’s attention, eyes sparking in the neons again. “That include dancing?” He tugged Mark’s rum and coke to him and took a sip.

Pff. Of course.

“Yes. If you want to dance, we’ll dance. I apologize in advance for the two left feet, heh.” Mark lifted Eric’s elbow up and pressed a kiss on the scratch marks. “All better now.”

His partner grinned, sitting up straighter and looking all too pleased with himself. “C’mon, big guy. Put your money where your mouth is.”

Mark let himself be pulled into the throng and tucked his hand on his partner’s hip, not wanting to let him get too far ahead of him. They stopped in the middle of the crowd and Eric faced him, wrapping his arms around his neck. Mark huffed in amusement, cupping his other hand on his partner’s free hip. “Now all we gotta do is sway in place for a few songs. Be like a high school dance,” he said in Eric’s ear, stubble catching on his partner’s.

“Fuck that noise,” Eric laughed back. “Would’ve gotten kicked out for being inappropriate, probably.”

“You? Naw. Never…” he teased, nipping gently at Eric’s ear before sliding his hands over his partner’s ass. Eric rolled himself along Mark’s thigh, shifting to the side to allow their legs to slot together comfortably as he found the rhythm to the music. Neither one of them danced, exactly, but Eric was better at it than he was. And given the nature of Eric’s preference for dancing, all Mark had to really do was give him something to move on; he was more than satisfied with that.

Sure enough, a couple of songs later and his partner had found his groove, grinding his hips into Mark’s with a roll and a snap that matched the bassline. As long as he held onto Eric, he did okay following along, trying to mimic the movement. Ask him to keep his feet under him in full battle rattle over treacherous ground, no problem. Stealth op where one wrong move gave you away, no issue at all. Dancing? Fucked if he knew how to combine his feet with the rest of himself to a beat.

Not like it was important at the moment. No, the important thing was Eric was having a good time and forgetting the handsy bitch from earlier. He seemed to be, given how much he’d loosened up. Lights flashed over undulating bodies on the dance floor with them, Eric pressing against him and losing himself to the pulsing bass he felt reverberating in his bones more than he heard it. Eric had his face buried in his neck and was actually straddling one of his thighs now as their bodies rolled together. It was apparent how much his partner liked being in their current situation, and it was one he didn’t mind himself, given his responding physical reaction. He definitely didn’t dance, per se, but this…this, he could do.

He slipped one hand from Eric’s back pocket underneath his shirt into the dip of the small of his back, rubbing his cheek along his partner’s and eyeing the rest of the dancers around them. “Hey…your eight o’clock, that guy is totally checkin’ out your ass.”

“Yeah?” Eric arched against him, deliberately pushing his butt out and Mark squeezed his ass cheek.

“Oh yeah. Sucks to be him right now.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because he can’t have it right now.” He let his voice drop low as he spoke in his partner’s ear. Eric shivered, brushing his lips over Mark’s cheek. “It’s mine.”

The game was familiar between them, of ‘mine’ and ‘yours’, comforting and steadying as they’d developed it over the years. It had started out as ‘You watch my ass, I’ll watch yours’ in ICT, but had somehow turned into ‘You’re mine to protect, and I’m yours.’ It had only solidified after Torfan and moved off the field and into their domestic arrangement.

“That’s right, big guy, it’s a fine ass, and it’s all yours because you treat it so well.”

“Nothin’ less than you deserve, y’know.”

His partner’s cheeks flushed and he glanced away with a grin. “Shut up. You’re making me blush.”

“That’s not a deterrent, y’know.” He nibbled along the freshly exposed line of Eric’s neck, enjoying the sigh and arched back again he got in response. “In fact, it’s only gonna make me say stuff like that more…” Goosebumps rose under his fingertips along Eric’s spine as he breathed warm air on the trail he’d just left, lightly digging his fingers in to press his partner more firmly against him.

“Well, shit. Sweet talker…”

Mark exhaled sharply, feeling his partner’s length slide along his thigh, his own hips pressing forward to meet him. “It’s the truth. You’re gorgeous when you blush. Certainly caught the eye of that girl over there. Your nine, dancin’ with the group three meters away.” Eric languidly tipped his head back to glance over and Mark saw the girl bite her lower lip. Her cheeks turned rosy as Eric positively writhed along him, making his body ripple against Mark’s.

He knew his partner; pointing out people admiring him only helped him bust out of whatever mental doldrums were plaguing him at the time, putting him in the headspace where the crowds energized him. Showman to the hilt. He was a willing assistant to it, though; more often than not, Eric got amped up from it enough to make it difficult to wait to get back to their place before starting to pull clothing off each other.

“Some of the other girls in the group are startin’ to look now, too,” he breathed, shifting his leg between Eric’s to give him an easier angle to move. His own hardness was grinding into the hollow of his partner’s hip, the friction between them electric and frustratingly not enough all at once. “You feelin’ it?”

“Fuck yeah,” Eric replied, voice going husky. He slid one of his hands from around Mark’s neck to cup his ass, pulling their groins even closer together. “Can’t you tell?”

“Yeah, but I like hearing it all the same,” he teased, parroting Eric’s words from earlier back at him. “How much it gets you goin’...” He ran the tip of his nose along his partner’s cheekbone, lips barely brushing his skin. “...how hard it makes you…” He nipped Eric’s ear gently with a playful growl before pressing a kiss behind it. “...how much you want my hands on you…”

“God, you asshole,” Eric groaned, gripping his ass tight with a shiver and squirming against him. “Thought I told you to put your money where your fucking mouth was. Goddamn tease.”

“Ah, that was for dancin’. You didn’t say shit about any of this.” He gently scraped his teeth down Eric’s neck, placing an open-mouthed kiss over his pulse. “What do you want to do about it?”

“Fuuuuck…” his partner sighed, forgetting the music for a moment as he pressed himself tight against Mark. “Lot of things. Like actually fucking.”

“I mean, yes, that’d be nice.”

That got him a small shove in his chest along with a frustrated groan muffled against his neck. “Motherfucking ding dong.”

“And you know it. But you’re stuck with me. You’re mine, y’know.” He punctuated it with running his fingers lightly up and down his partner’s spine again, circling the barely perceptible knobs of protruding bone under the smooth skin as he went.

Eric groaned into his neck again, but it had lost the exasperation. “Yeah, yeah. Still an asshole.”

“No disputin’ that. We should probably head back, get home.”

A flash of fiery red hair caught his eye along the dance floor beyond the gaggle of girls that had been eyeing them. What’s-her-fuck apparently didn’t go home like they’d initially thought. And she was staring daggers at them. He locked gazes with her and nipped at Eric’s ear, gently worrying it between his teeth to get his partner to curl into him like he knew he would at the sensation. Maybe then she’d get the message.

Mine. Back off.

If he had hackles, they’d be raised.

He didn’t care who Eric went with or what he did with them; that was Eric’s business and at the end of the day, he was back in their place and their bed. But that only extended to if they left him intact. He had big problems with anybody who left marks on him without Eric saying they could or anybody that disrespected him. And knowing his partner, he wouldn’t give consent to being marked up by anybody but him.

As he told him before: Mine.

Yours was understood and reciprocated, always unspoken.

“On second thought, baby…I got an idea.” He brushed his lips along Eric’s neck, flicking his earlobe with the tip of his tongue and keeping his eyes locked on her.

“Uh-oh,” Eric huffed, returning the affection with a nip on Mark’s ear of his own. Mark shuddered with a sharp exhale, leaning into it and curling his fingers in Eric’s back pocket to draw him closer. Yours.

“She’s still hangin’ around. And I feel like stakin’ my claim. You game?”

“Fuck yes.” His partner pulled back a little, matching his smirk with the devious one of his own that always promised a good time. Mark kissed him, hard, rocking their hips together.

“That’s my Cricket.”

They peeled themselves off each other reluctantly, linking their pinkies together so they wouldn’t get separated as Mark led him to the corner of the bar sharing the edge of the dance floor she was lurking on. Ordinarily, Mark preferred the privacy and comfort of their bedroom for most activities, but tonight? The shadowed corners where other inhabitants of the nightlife were too wrapped up in their own lives and others avoided for that reason was perfect. Eric didn’t give a flying fuck where he was for the most part; it was all part of the buzz he got from putting on a show.

He managed to find a portion of wall to hold up, bracing his back against it and flipping Eric around so his partner’s ass was snugged up against his groin. Eric bit his lower lip and grinned at him over his shoulder, grinding back on him with a wink.

“Alright, I’ll give it to you; this is one of your better ideas, I admit.” His partner’s hand slid between them to cup Mark’s hardness straining against his jeans, giving it a knowing squeeze. Mark shuddered, pushing himself into Eric’s hand and groaning into his shoulder.

Mine.

Yours.

“Thought you might like it. Bonus, we’ve got at least an audience of one. Twelve o’clock. Look familiar?” Eric’s fingers fumbled with Mark’s zipper. It seemed they were on the same page. Using his partner’s body to shield what he was doing, he helped, undoing the button and getting the tab of the zipper started, their fingers brushing as Eric’s took over.

“Eat your heart out.”

He slid his left hand into Eric’s front pocket, finding a rigid heat through the pocket lining of his jeans. Ausgezeichnet. Running his thumb along it to the end, he found a damp spot that made his stomach flutter and swirled it over his tip in a figure eight pattern around Eric’s piercing, thin cloth clinging to it as he circled the smooth contour of the beads. The curved barbell ran from the top of the head through the slit, making it a sexy as hell thing to see, particularly when he was sufficiently worked up enough that precome welled up behind it.

Like now.

Fuck.

Imagining it was almost as good as seeing it for real; he needed to feel more skin on skin, not just Eric’s hand stroking him through his skivvies.

“Can’t let anybody else know, though, right, baby…? Wouldn’t want to get caught.” He murmured the words in his partner’s ear, indulging in his own mental game about it. Eric practically purred, arching into his hand.

“No, definitely not,” his partner turned his head to nuzzle his cheek, pressing a kiss on it. His own way of letting Mark know he’d play along. “Can’t let them know what’s actually going on.” It made his heart stutter. You’re my lucky Cricket; was lucky to find you way back when at ICT.

Carefully, oh-so carefully, he slipped his right hand along Eric’s waistline under the hem of his shirt, unbuttoning and half-unzipping the stubborn denim of his jeans. Running his fingers slowly along the waistband again, trying not to make his t-shirt move too much, he tugged Eric’s pants and underwear over his ass, exposing his skin. His partner inhaled sharply at that, deft fingers of his own untucking Mark from his boxer-briefs.

Mark stifled a growl into Eric’s shoulder as his hardened length nestled between Eric’s asscheeks. “You feel me?” He rocked his hips into his partner, shivering at the heat of his skin. “Because I feel you…” Thank fuck Eric’s jeans weren’t so skin tight there wasn’t any air between him and the denim; they were loose enough for him to wrap his hand through the pocket lining around his dick and stroke him, spreading the growing dampness along his length.

“Yes…”

Eric had grabbed the side of Mark’s pant leg since there wasn’t any space for it on his groin anymore, pressing himself back along him.

“I got you, baby,” he whispered, spreading his free hand over his partner’s stomach under his shirt to hold them together. Eric keened, trembling a moment. “This what you wanted?”

“Uh-huh.”

He could feel the strain in Eric’s muscles as they moved to keep it slow and indiscernible. He glanced to the side of them to other couples heavily making out who had the same relative idea they did, only much less discreet about it. If anybody truly watched them, however, he was certain they’d figure out exactly what was going on.

The whole premise was exhilarating.

What’s-her-fucksit was still staring at them, though he couldn’t tell if it was from spite, fascination, or some other reason. He had half a mind to blow her a kiss.

Mine.

He kept his eyes on her as he kissed behind Eric’s ear, tilting it to the side to give himself more room for it. It helped distract him from it being too short an evening; he could feel his own wetness spreading along his length and Eric’s skin as they moved, increasing the slide of their bodies along each other, and then when his tip nudged his partner’s entrance and he felt Eric shiver at it, he almost lost it right then and there; they were playing with fire.

“There are things you’re makin’ me want to do that I’d be doin’ if we were home, y’know,” he panted behind Eric’s ear in between kisses.

“Ain’t that a real bitch,” his partner practically moaned, putting an extra roll in his hips as they ground together. Mark shuddered, digging his fingers into the planes of Eric’s stomach to keep him as close as he could.

“You got me all flustered; couldn’t wait. Needed to feel you now.” He just barely increased the speed of his hand in Eric’s pocket, the thin cloth almost fully saturated at that point, his own tip leaking freely between his ass.

“You’ve got me, big guy.”

He shuddered hard, burying his face in his partner’s neck and fighting the urge to snap his hips into his ass at the pet name. That would give the game away; they would know and that couldn’t happen, because then they would take away his Cricket and that was unacceptable. He deliberately tilted his hips to drag his length down Eric’s cleft, dripping tip barely nudging into the slight divot where his entrance was and heilige verdammte Scheisse, his partner flexed at it and he felt it on his head and he wouldn’t push into him, not like that, not without any prep or ‘ok’ first, and instead thrust himself upward, along the slick channel between his asscheeks as he fingered the crown of Eric’s length, brushing the piercing and the resulting pulse of liquid heat soaking the cloth and exhilarated gasp sent him over the edge, his own wetness spurting on his Cricket’s skin in hot, thick drops.

Mine.

Yours.

Their chests heaved in tandem, Eric leaning heavily into his arms. Mark nipped his ear and swirled his thumb over the soaked pocket lining plastered to Eric’s length one last time before sliding his hand out of Eric’s pocket, carefully stroking his partner’s cheek while running the wetness on his thumb over his bottom lip.

“That’s you…” he whispered, lips brushing over the shell of Eric’s ear. His partner shuddered, pressing himself harder into him. Mark tipped Eric’s head towards him and flicked his tongue along Eric’s bottom lip, groaning quietly as his partner opened for the kiss. “D’you feel me?”

Eric shuddered again, tilting his hips to slide his ass along Mark’s length, reaching back to feel the dampness on their skin. “Mhm.” He brought his hand up, wet fingers glistening in the neons before lightly running them over Mark’s bottom lip in a mirror of what they’d just done. He grinned as he kissed Eric’s fingertips, then his lips again, softer this time.

“...got your six, Cricket.”

“Yeah, y’do.”

Mine.

Yours.

[alchemist-after-dark]

Hi! I was told by @swaps55 that you have a good answer for this question, so here goes: What's your take on powers like Dominate? I know they don't fit well with what was stabilished for biotics in ME1, but since they're there have you ever come up with any explanation or headcanon for these types of powers?

Hello, nonny!! Thank you, @swaps55, for the kind words!! 🥰 Whether or not it’s a good answer, I dunno, but it’s what works for me, my character Mark, and the majority of the universes he lives in. My take on Dominate is… extensive, in a word, so apologies in advance for the lengthy answer. And also how long it took me to type out… 😕I should put it under a ‘read under the cut’ thing, because there will also be game spoilers. …can you spoil a game that’s over a decade old…? I digress.

Dominate is utterly fascinating to me. If it fits well with what was established in lore for ME1, I dunno; the science behind it in reality isn’t there, imo, and we’re already dealing with essentially space magic, so...why not go fantastical with it? The mechanics of ‘how’ of Dominate works is less interesting to me than the ramifications of its existence and usage, but I figure it’s incredibly specific, minute warp fields that the biotic targets the victim’s nervous system. If biotics are shifting molecules, cool. Shift the molecules of the spinal cord, then, and let me hijack a person, lol. How the hijacking occurs, *shrug*. I take a more supernatural approach to it, where in order to use biotics, you have to have intent behind it, and this is the key in which unlocks Dominate in my world.

But first, some canon background:

In the game, you initially learn it in game 2 from saving Morinth. In game 3, you unlock it after completing the Leviathan DLC. The reason for that is it’s mind control and Leviathan is all about that. You learn that what Leviathan does to enthrall others is the precursor to indoctrination. That leaves aaaaallll sorts of room for interpretation on manifestation/implementation for development. Since my first experience with it was learning it from an Ardat-Yakshi, that’s how Mark learned, too. (And I wrote a story about it.)

Now, something else you learn in game 1 in the wiki/through Kaidan was when biotics first started manifesting in humans, there were many, many rumors going around at the time about what human biotics could and couldn’t do, and that fact was used by Conatix to great effect in order to round up test subjects students. One of those rumors?

Mind control.

Never quantified or confirmed as of 2183, though.

You find out in game 2 that there are basically asari ‘energy vampires’, who meld with their partners and ‘embrace eternity’ and pull the essence of the person into them. The victim suffers from cerebral hemorrhaging and if it doesn’t outright kill them, it leaves them a vegetable and a husk of the person they once were. The absorbed energy strengthens the Ardat-Yakshi and they also assimilate the skills of their victim into their own. Samara tells you she’s a justicar and one of their tasks is to chase Ardat-Yakshi. She also reveals that it’s a genetic disorder that manifests fully upon maturity, it’s an addictive condition, and an Ardat-Yakshi who decides to embrace the condition will leave a huge body count in pursuit of a fix. Samara additionally reveals that Ardat-Yakshi are seemingly the result of pureblood asari unions, and have been in asari history as long as the race has existed. And that it’s one of the best kept secrets of the galaxy.

In game 3, you actually receive a mission to blow up the monastery where found Ardat-Yakshi are cloistered away. The Asari Republic doesn’t want any of it found out, not to mention the Reapers are gunning after them in order to make banshees to begin with, so blow it sky-high, please and thank you. You find out a bit more of how life is structured at the monastery (correspondence is monitored, life is scheduled down to the minute, etc, etc) and that there are ‘levels’ of the condition, which is responsible for the sheer stupid fucking amount of banshees you come across in game.

Sorry, I hate fighting them. *shudders*

SO.

(Also…sorry for the long-winded history of Ardat-Yakshi, but I promise this all folds into my brain droppings about Dominate, lol. I strongly recommend reading The Hunted and the follow-up Welcome to the Suck, because it details more of what I’m getting around to nutshelling here.)

If you save Morinth, you find out she has a special biotic power called Dominate. It’s the organic version of AI Hack, in short. They both act like ‘frenzy’ in most games that have it, essentially confusing the target’s ability to identify friend from foe and you gain a temporary ally on your side. Dead useful, that is, lol. The mechanics of it in game 2 are different than game 3, and tbh, I prefer the game 3 version, so that’s what I base my head canons on. In game 2, it only affects unarmored targets, and you can either choose ‘splash damage’ with group dominate (where the biotic field effects multiples, up to 3, I believe) or concentrate on one target and buff the hell out of them while increasing duration as well. Higher ranks will give a biotic barrier for the target to protect them as they go head to head with their friends. Friendly fire, as they say, ain’t really friendly. Targets do not become resistant to Dominate; you can spam the fuck out of it. It doesn’t do Damage Over Time, though. *sniffle* It will kill lower level enemies, like husks, outright (provided they don’t have barriers or armor).

Game 3, it changes a bit. You no longer have the ability to control multiples, targets become resistant over time, but you are able to use it to great effect against armor, barriers, and to give DOT. As long as you have a sight line to your target and they are organic, you can hit them with it and it takes effect immediately, turning them on their friends while chewing through their armor and barriers before burning down their health. (My personal favorite is being knee-deep in Reapers and flipping a Brute, hehehehe.)

And in this? Mark is devastatingly effective.

A fun ‘quirk’ of the game (ha) is that when you use Dominate on an opponent, they scream. A lot. And they tend to say “Don’t shoot, it’s me!” while they’re taking fire from their side as they’re actively shooting their friends. The implication, as Mordin says, is problematic, because that means they are acutely aware of the situation.

In other words, they’re lucid while Mark’s controlling them, and they are a passenger in their body. They can't control themselves and are watching themselves mow down their friends and allies.

That’s terrifying.

Another nifty thing in the games is you can tell which enemy you’ve got under your sway by a thin biotic aura around them. In game 2, it’s standard blue-purple-biotic color. In game 3, it’s white. There’s also a certain sound that triggers when you launch the attack, but it doesn’t really fit with the way a warp or a singularity sounds, so I ignore it in fic.

Bored to tears yet? No? Lol, you’ve got grit and I like you for it. 😜

NOW. The way I see it, biotic powers aren’t finite and limited by class, because you can switch it up between games and even choose a different bonus power in the med bay in games 2 and 3 if you want to. I use the class system as we know it in the game as a ‘specialist’ designation more than anything, because it’s shorthand for a certain aptitude and set of skills, even if you customize the character. Even Kaidan shows in game 3 that he learned a new skill.

That means the mnemonics and abilities can be taught.

Mark was taught personally by an Ardat-Yakshi named Mirala. She told him he needed to change the intent and purpose of his biotics from flexing the molecules to make a warp field or condensing them into a singularity to what he wanted most in the world, and what he wants is to control the target. She has him flare initially and coaches him through thinking, guides him into changing the intention, and she knows he’s achieved it when his aura goes from blue to white to a light, sickly green.

Funny story, the first time I saw a Dominate field in 3, I thought it was light green (similar to Dark Chanel) because my screen wasn’t color balanced properly. It stuck and is in my fics, lol.

The best way to teach is to have examples, and Mirala is a thorough teacher. Not only did she coach him through the mindset, she also has a practice ‘dummy’. Some of my head canon for biotics in general is if one biotic has their field active, another can ‘add’ theirs to it through touch and bolster it, make it stronger. Two are stronger than one and all, and it stops when one loses energy or damps theirs down.

Well, that’s a little different with Dominate in Mark’s case. As a biotic, he can still do that, and does. Frequently. But the thing about Dominate in an Ardat-Yakshi’s case is they draw the essence of their victim into themselves. Kinda like Reave heals you in game 2. And that means there’s some kind of energy transfer possible. That definitely goes hand-in-hand with a biotic using Dominate by shoving their will and intentions into their target.

So if Mark knows how to force his will and intentions through his biotics into his target, wouldn’t it make sense that he could reverse it?

And this is how Mark using other biotics as basically ‘battery packs’ for his own biotics was born, lol. He’ll have his field active, slide his foot next to Kaidan’s or Liara’s or Miranda’s and draw theirs into his, which doubles his reach and the raw power output. The downside of that is he can burn out his amp and theirs if he draws too much at once. On the flip side, if he sees a biotic squaddie in trouble, he’ll touch them and shove his biotics into them to be a battery pack himself; no intentions or force of will imposed.

Mirala told him the physical effects on the victim, and that it was in their best interest not to resist; it still hurt them, but not as much if they complied to the demand. If they fought the compulsion, they wouldn’t attack their group, but they would still have their nervous system actively being fried.

Remember, they scream in the game. Doesn’t matter if they fight for you or stand still. Their body is revolting against them. And they’re cognizant of it.

Mirala had Mark touch her while she used it on the victim, so Mark learned by doing, in short. And he was along for the ride when Mirala drew the power in from them. He felt the rush and it was better than any high he’d ever had. And it scared him how much he liked it. The thing he remembered later was that he could feel the victim in his own head, feel them struggling to resist, their panic, their resignation, and then their silenced nothing when they succumbed completely to it.

Mark takes this knowledge back to the Alliance, and Admiral Hackett had wanted to see if they could weaponize it. Mark gives some demonstrations using pyjaks and varren, and it’s deemed too dangerous to be developed further. He also explains that his contact had warned him not to use it too freely, because once it was known he could manipulate others to do his bidding against their will, he’d be hunted like an animal just like her.

This ties into Samara saying the Ardat-Yakshi are the asari’s best kept secret in the galaxy, and that has some fun potential political ramifications. Think about it. The Asari Republic has a vested interest in maintaining a certain image and reputation to the rest of the galaxy as wise, calm, sophisticated, and civilized elites. They’ve been around the longest, they are some of the longest-lived, and they were most importantly the first to discover the Citadel. (They’re also the wealthiest race.) They don’t dare do anything to jeopardize that comfy pedestal they’re on. If the other races knew they had genetic monsters that were addicted to killing and were slaves to that whim, they’d lose any clout they had.

And so they locked it away and put a stipulation in place that any known Ardat-Yakshi would be given a choice: locked away in the monastery for the duration of their life or death.

Mark proves that other races know about it.

And also that it can be taught to them.

Hackett worries about if Mark decides to teach other human biotics. Given the examples shown with the pyjaks and the varren, what could he do with bigger things, like maybe elcor…? Or worse yet, what if he gathered a group of biotics and decided to stage a coup...?

Better to keep it under wraps and keep Mark on a leash.

So Mark is given a handler (Admiral Kahoku), is made to sign NDAs (non-disclosure agreements), is told he’s not to use it unless he can guarantee there are no witnesses left, is told if he is compromised and unable to tie up loose ends himself, contact his handler (Kahoku) and they would deploy a team to ‘contain the situation.’ In the words of Samara, “It is as it sounds.” If there was a breach, the situation would be assessed and the outcome could very well be he’s put in the ground with the unfortunate person who discovered the secret. Kahoku points out it would be useful to ensure certain situations went the way the Alliance wanted them to go.

Keeping with the supernatural side of things, this doesn’t happen in game, but I have it happen in my universes. When Mark uses Dominate, his eyes go black like the asari’s do when they embrace eternity. (Indulge me, lol.) It bothers him a lot when he’s made aware of it.

Now, the gag orders make it a bit difficult for him when he’s in relationships with people. (Kaidan, Miranda, femshep, Clay if you follow any of his universes in writing) If they catch wind of it, that makes them a target, and he gives himself anxiety fits over ‘what if I killed them’. The second part to that is Mark knows what Dominate does to his targets, and most of his partners? Are biotic.

That makes things a liiiiiittle tricky in the bedroom.

Mark is absolutely pathological about keeping his biotics locked down everywhere but the battlefield, because when he was younger (and more inexperienced), he would flare while he finished in bed, and something he’s never been able to control very well even after training is his ‘sympathetic flare response.’ That’s another head canon of mine in which is if one biotic has their biotic field active and then touch another, theirs immediately rise up in response.Most are able to keep theirs dialed down and not allow it to happen, but Mark’s never been able to prevent it. He’s only ever able to damp it down immediately.

It’s never been a problem with his partners who aren’t biotics themselves, and he was less finicky about it with biotic partners before he learned his ‘little trick’ (as he calls it), but now that he has… Big ol’ nope. He doesn’t let himself ever lose himself completely to sensation anymore in bed. And now that he knows his ‘little trick’, it would be absolutely devastating if his biotics got going in the heat of the moment and oh god what if Dominate accidentally triggered?

He’d be in his partner’s head while they died in excruciating agony.

No thanks.

When he’s assigned to the Normandy, everybody on board has security clearance, and those on the fire team that drop boots with him have an even higher level clearance, so he can be reasonably confident if one accidentally saw him use it, they’d be told ‘you didn’t see anything’ or ‘say goodnight, Gracie.’ Once he’s made Spectre and Kahoku dies, Hackett re-evaluates. By the time 3 rolls around, restrictions are relaxed in favor of ‘win this damn war at all costs, we’ll deal with the consequences later.’

Expounding more on the ‘he’s frightened about losing control of himself and his biotics’ thing, another one of his fears is banshees. (lol, I don’t like fighting them, so neither does he. It’s a thing.) Once it’s known the Reapers are after Ardat-Yakshi and their genetic carriers, he starts worrying about what might happen if the Reapers actually caught him.

Would they do the same thing to him?

Would he be a shriveled, gray corpse reanimated with tubing and lights to do their bidding as a mindless drone?

….would he be the first human banshee?

He’s not interested in finding out. So he fights like hell to stay one step ahead of the Reapers as much as he can.

Whew! We made it to the end! I’m sorry it’s so long-winded, and I hope you got what you were looking for with it. Thank you so much for asking; it made my week!

[alchemist-after-dark]

Mark: "...I don't care if it's a Tuchankan tradition, I still feel like my personal space bubble is violated"

Wrex: "smells like weakling"

[alchemist-after-dark]

Of badass biotics and flying (farting) Makos

[alchemist-after-dark]

THAT SCENE, for The Hunted???

Ooof, good one!  I love the Hunted so damn much. It’s kinda hard to answer, because it was more the concept of it than anything else that caused me to start writing it. Mark needed to learn his special trick before it was available in game canon, it was a high fucking price, and it was his introduction to fic-dom. It had to make as big an impact for readers as he did for me, lol. There were a few THAT SCENEs for it, but the biggest that doesn’t give away the most major spoiler? Is this:

Ah.

I’m the target.

What an interesting notion.

[alchemist-after-dark]

Serendipity

*bursts through the door with balloons and confetti*  LATE BUT THAT’S OK!!  

*ahem*

So.

In honor of the ever-effervescent @estalfaed‘s birthday, my writing partner in crime @cdrkateshepard and I decided to shed a little more light on the whole werewolf mshenko awesomeness we’re cooking up.  For you, friend!  Happy Belated Birthday, and we hope you enjoy  ^__^

Serendipity, by Kate_Shepard and potionsmaster

Rating: M for violence and language

Summary:  “ Maybe there isn’t such a thing as fate. Maybe it’s just the opportunities we’re given, and what we do with them. I’m beginning to think that maybe great, epic romances don’t just happen. We have to make them ourselves.” ~Marissa Meyer

~*~*~*~

<Hey>

Mark stared balefully at his omni-tool before hitting ‘send’.  Here he was, once again bein’ a pest to Alenko and about to ask him to chaperone keep him company while he tried to drink himself to numbness in a bottle or three of rum.  He was fairly certain the older Alpha merely tolerated his existence at this point because they were pack and besides the point, linked by the fact the Alpha had created him, for lack of a better term.  ‘Turned’ sounded...bad.  Even though he had been, he supposed, fiddling with his pack of cigarettes on the bar surface. It still gave a certain ‘connotation’ that he wasn’t entirely sure of what, but it wasn’t good.  That much he knew.  Amie refused to let him forget.

Fuckin’ bitch.

He tossed back a shot and checked his ‘tool again, hoping and trying not to that Alenko had responded quickly.  The current black mood he was in was due to his lovely ex-wife and bondmate.  At least his unit commander and pack Alpha was acutely aware and involved in the situation.  Alenko was kind enough to bite his tongue over most of it, but Mark knew no love was lost between him and Amie ever since they met at his stay in the hospital post-Torfan.

<Hey. What’s up?>

He jumped a little and scrambled to open the message notification that pinged his omni-tool; his nerves were jangled from the latest altercation with Amie, that was all.  He specifically visualized smooth, metal walls and him sitting in the middle of them like he did when he wanted to keep his biotics in check.  One of the little joys of being linked with Alenko was getting flashes of thoughts, feelings, smells, and sensations of whatever the Alpha had on his mind and wasn’t specifically blocking and vice versa.  No way in hell did he want his CO knowing he had a monster crush on him.  Going through heat in his apartment was a lesson in frustration on top of everything else.

<Hopefully not your blood pressure after this shit.  I’m at The Docking Bay.  Can you meet me?>

<The bar? Sure. Everything ok?>

<As it ever is when dealing with the little woman.  Tell you more when you get here.  Want me to get the usual for you?>

<Sounds good. Be there in ten.>

Mark keyed in an order for a shot of whiskey and a bottle of Canadian lager for the other man and poured himself another shot, jouncing his leg on the rung of the bar stool.

Ten minutes was a damn long time to wait.

~*~*~*~

Kaidan passed through the door of The Docking Bay, the Arcturus officer’s bar frequented by the weres, and discreetly scented for Mark while scanning the crowd. He’d put money on the vague sense of frustration and disappointment he’d been carrying around all day being from the omega, but Mark was surprisingly good at blocking the pack bond and Kaidan didn’t like to push him. With another were, it would be odd not to expect at least some clarity and openness, but Mark wasn’t born to this and still wasn’t accustomed to sharing his head. So Kaidan let the other man’s emotions and the rare flickers he got of more wash through his mind without examining them too closely and made a point of letting the omega talk about whatever was on his mind rather than trying to pick it out of his head.

Still, vague senses slipped through sometimes and it was enough tonight that he wasn’t entirely surprised about the invitation even if he could only guess at why it had been issued. That dog of an ex-mate was probably jerking him around again and using their pup as ammunition. That, or another of the humans on the station had said something to him. Humans, he’d learned, could be cruel. Their value systems were foreign enough to be more alien to him than most aliens he’d met. A wolf would never treat a packmate the way Amie did Mark, even if they’d fallen out over something.

He found the tall omega sitting at the bar with a beer and a shot glass beside him and slipped onto the barstool, looking him up and down. Yeah. He’d definitely been the source. From the looks of it, it was a testament to his ability to block that Kaidan had only picked up that much. His face was drawn, his skin pale. The scent of stress hovered around him like a dark cloud. Mark’s shoulders relaxed slightly when Kaidan got close enough for the omega to smell him, an automatic reaction to his presence. Kaidan felt some of his own tension drain away with his pack-member close again.  

“Hey,” he said as quietly as the bar would allow, leaning in to allow Mark to greet him. If he’d been just another packmate, Kaidan wouldn’t have hesitated to touch him first, but he’d learned it was better to let Mark come to him. Unconventional, but he didn’t mind bucking tradition if it meant helping the other man be more comfortable in his own skin.

“Howdy.” The word was terse and short, stretched tight like it would break.  A second later, the shot glass got shoved towards him with a small elbow nudge and the tall omega’s head ducked lower to show he acknowledged the Alpha.  He nudged Mark back as he settled on the stool and the omega shifted on his own seat to get comfortable again, head back in its usual position.

“Amie or the humans?” he asked, resting a hand on the other man’s shoulder to bring his wrist closer. His scent would help center and settle the omega, but they weren’t yet at a point where he could just offer it to him or Mark would openly seek it out. Casual was better for now.

“Why can’t it be both?” came the sharp quip, the taller man’s ears turning pink at the tips.  Mark’s shoulders had tensed momentarily at his arm on his shoulder, but it passed.

Humans didn’t touch as much as weres did. He knew that, but the reaction to it still made the corner of his eye twitch on occasion and he had to reason himself out of the automatic response. It wasn’t a rejection, just another sign of the omega’s struggle to adjust to his new life. It would get easier with time. He still had a long way to go, but Kaidan probably wouldn’t have adapted to human culture as well as Mark had done so far.

“Is it?” he asked, watching for a further response. If it didn’t help, he’d move. No sense pushing him, especially when he was already stressed.

Mark tossed back his shot and poured another with practiced ease, bottle half empty already.  “Indirectly, I suppose,” he muttered, at least making no move to toss his arm off.  “Was supposed to have a visit tomorrow, but due to ‘unforeseen circumstances and family business’, it got rescheduled.  When, I dunno.  She probably got her father to make up some unbreakable family function or other last minute.  She used to do somethin’ similar when she got sick of me on leave or wanted to be able to complain I was never around.  Ah well.”  He downed the freshly poured shot and wrinkled his nose at the burn.  “As for generic human shit, SSDD.  Walk down the street, saw someone I used to know, they tried to avoid me and every time I think I don’t care so much anymore, it just compounds with somethin’ else.  Knowin’ my luck, she’ll reschedule it when she knows our deployment orders.  So, cheers.”

Kaidan lowered his arm. Mark was tolerating it, but it wasn’t having any other effect he could see. He tossed his whiskey back and wrapped his hands around his beer. “We can go talk to the JAG office tomorrow. See about getting a firm date for the visit sometime in the next week or so. I’m sure she can’t just take the visit away altogether. That isn’t in Eli’s best interest and I’m sure the courts are used to dealing with manipulative parents. Humans, at least. I...don’t really know what else to say about that, unfortunately. It isn’t something that would happen with us, so it’s stunning to me that she even tries.” He took a sip of his beer and twirled the bottle on the bar. There wasn’t much he could do to help in this situation and that was maddening. There was one thing he could offer, though. Pack was always the answer when things went pear-shaped. “Why don’t you come stay at my place tonight?”

~*~*~*~

There it was.  

The offer.

“Why don’t you come stay at my place tonight?”

Those nine. genial, warm, benign, innocuous little words, so sweet and innocent in their meaning.  No never mind he had spent most of his heat actually at Alenko’s place and half-fantasized those words had a different intent behind them.  He pursed his lips, picturing the smooth metal again to make sure nothing got out.  He wasn’t quite sure if the Alpha was disappointed or not with him; he had removed his arm from Mark’s shoulder casually enough, but he saw a brief flicker on his strong face, or he thought he did, anyway.  The rum might have been lying to him about it, but with those horribly wonderful words, he figured he was still probably ‘ok’. The Alpha was genuinely a nice guy who’d give someone the shirt off his back if he knew it would make their life easier.

Alenko usually offered to let him stay over during a rough patch and he wasn’t too proud to take him up on it most of the time.  Anything was better than the cramped, dark hole in the were officers’ bloc he could call his own.  It was just a box for his belongings and himself to be stored temporarily and he avoided it as much as he could within reason.  He was so caught up in his thoughts he almost missed the rest of what the Alpha was saying.

“It’ll make you feel better. Not so isolated.”

“...maybe.  I’ll think about it, I dunno…”  He poured and slugged back another shot, the fire racing down his throat turning into a pleasant heat that spread from his stomach to his limbs and made them heavy.  On Alenko’s couch wasn’t where he wanted to be if he was going to stay the night in his place.  He chanced a glance at the dark haired man looking at him, little divot above his eyebrow forming whenever he got concerned about something.

“Or I could stay at yours if you’d rather have your things around you,” Alenko said, cocking his head slightly to the side.  Sweet to the last.

“...I don’t have a fold-out or a futon, and I’m not gonna make you sleep on the sofa,” he muttered into his freshly filled shot glass.  Much as it might be fun to think about sharing a bed, that was more than likely off the table and just plain inappropriate, besides.  “Lemme think about it.  Please.”  His thoughts were turning mushy from the booze, finally. Blessed relief.

“Oh. Yeah. Sure. No pressure,” Kaidan said, downing his beer and turning around on his seat to face the crowd, careful not to touch him. The Alpha braced his elbows against the bar behind him, tucking them close to his body and giving a wide berth. “So, ah...I finished the report on the last assignment. Sent it to Hackett this morning.”

“Oh yeah?”  Mark followed suit after a slow second, elbow knocking into the Alpha’s on the bar accidentally, but he didn’t move it.  Another drop of warmth spread from his stomach outward, but this time it wasn’t a straight shot of booze that caused it.  Conflicted instincts warred in him, helped in intensity by the rum consumed so far.  He wasn’t an Alpha anymore himself, but he still had instincts and tendencies that were ingrained in him and they directly railed against the newer, softer, insidious ones he’d started noticing.  

The most surprising one had been a bit of an unknowing discovery during his heat.  He knew the basics about it due to Amie, and Alenko had been kind enough to brief him on what to expect in regards to the mind link and how it all physically worked as a were, of course, but the sensation of getting slicked up and the idea of a certain someone pressing against his ass was a complete and total mindfuck.  Alphas did not get penetrated.  Nor did they back their ass up against another person and grind on them, or fantasize about it, either.  But it was just another stark reminder that he had a new role and a new life and it was all in the ever-increasing distant past.  He sighed deeply, letting the booze and his Alpha’s presence relax him.  “You make me look good in it?”

“Of course.”

~*~*~*~

Kaidan glanced down at Mark’s elbow against his as they made banal small talk and wondered if he should move again or not. The omega was voluntarily touching him and there was something comforting about it, but he wasn’t sure Mark even realized he’d done it. He couldn’t bring himself to move just yet, though.

The rejection of his offer had stung. Kaidan had spent the time since Torfan trying to hold back his own reactions to losing almost his entire pack. Having his fellow pack Alpha still locked away in the brig after Torfan, trying to help keep her sane, and being solely responsible for the single new member had taken all of his focus. He didn’t have the time or luxury to grieve yet, but he was reminded that he’d lost a family that had been together for years. It was lonelier than he liked to admit.

He needed Mark just as much as Mark needed him. Unfortunately, the omega was still fighting the changes that had taken place. Even if he wasn’t, they still came from two different cultural backgrounds. He could teach Mark every day, but it would take years for him to begin to assimilate to their way of thinking. Which meant that Kaidan was having to try to figure out how to think like a human in order to attempt to understand him. The problem with that was that Mark was the only human he’d ever wanted to spend time with. They were speaking different languages with no translator. The differences might be relatively small, but they completely changed the meaning of certain interactions. So as much as he might want to touch, and as much as it might have been natural to seek comfort from any other pack member, he kept his hands to himself.

Maybe he needed to go home to see his blood pack. He could use the comfort of physical affection and the chance to relax and let go without feeling the need to analyze his every movement before he made it. A vacation, that was what he needed. Once Mark was a bit more stabilized, at least. He couldn’t go now, no matter how much he might want to.

“You’re so good to me,” the taller man chuckled, leaning more on the elbow that was touching his.

The move could have just been the unconscious result of him turning naturally toward a packmate but might also be progress. Either way, he wasn’t jerking away, so Kaidan allowed himself to relax somewhat.

I could be.

Shut up, Kaidan.

This crush he had on the man was stupid. It wasn’t reciprocated and probably never would be. Once Mark got more comfortable with his status, he’d go find an Alpha female and eventually he’d find the right Alpha female and none of it would matter. Regardless of what happened, there was no way in hell that the former Alpha would be willing to take a knot up his ass no matter how often he slicked up at inopportune times and drove Kaidan to distraction. The guy had a kid with a female. He was straight. The slick had nothing to do with him and he was an idiot for hoping that it happened because he was around.

“You look bad, I look bad. It’s selfish, really,” he quipped.

“I highly doubt you could do anythin’ that would look ‘bad’,” Mark snorted, turning towards him and behind to grab another shot.  “Kinda surprised you’re unattached, actually.  You’re the total package.  Alpha, officer, nice guy with a smile to match.  I would’ve thought at the very least you and Shepard would’ve made some kind of pair.”

Kaidan raised a brow at him. “Huh. You don’t know. One of the guys that was down there with us was her mate. Isaac. He was a good guy. Besides, she’s not my type. As for anyone else, well...guess I’m just choosy or patient or...I don’t know.” Or what I want is sitting right in front of me and I’m never going to get it. ‘Not my type.’ Yeah. Because my type, apparently, is hot male omega.

The omega in question nodded along, chewing his bottom lip and shifting a bit, surreptitiously tugging on the side of his jeans.  “Ah.  I...think I vaguely remember somethin’ of that when I was laid up.  I couldn’t place a name to a face, though.  Never really mingled with y’all ship side.”

Kaidan suppressed a groan and curled his lip at the human Alpha on Mark’s other side who started to lean in at the scent of him. He didn’t blame him a bit. Horny Mark smelled like heaven and humans could still pick up on it. But the newly-minted omega definitely wouldn’t appreciate the attention of a stranger just looking to get laid. The other Alpha backed off and Kaidan returned his attention to Mark.

“It’s alright. I don’t expect you to. I doubt you’d have met him.” The human edged closer again. Kaidan narrowed his eyes and growled deep in his chest and stood up, eyes remaining on the threat as he addressed Mark. “Y’know what? It’s getting crowded in here. Let’s get some air.” If the Alpha didn’t back down, there was going to be hell to pay.

~*~*~*~

Mark felt the other Alpha’s presence before anything else and kept turning to Alenko and leaning into him to try to subtly dissuade them.  Werewolves, he was learning, were all about body language and cues, even moreso than humans.  Some of it was the same.  Some of it was different.  Some of it he had no clue about until he blundered headfirst into it and Alenko had to bail his sorry ass out of it before there was a ‘diplomatic incident’ of sheer dumbass proportions.  

This type of situation, though, he was familiar enough with the song and dance and his hackles were already up.  It didn’t help he was buzzed and already feeling looser than normal, and then without fail his little problem made itself known in a warm flush that started at the pit of his stomach and spread downward.  Asking if Alenko specifically had anybody special was probably one of the stupider moves he’d made, but he’d never heard the Alpha mention anybody and he was just curious.  It didn’t help alleviate his problem in the slightest, though, and he’d had to try to adjust his pants away from his skin.  He had no fuckin’ clue how other omegas managed to walk around normally.  

Alenko’s invitation to move was a welcome escape.  He turned to put his shot glass down on the bar and threw some credits down to pay, pushing through the crowd after Alenko.  A hot, sweaty hand grabbed his wrist, pulling him back, and he bristled.

“Hey, handsome, what’s the rush?”

“Let go.”  Mark squared his shoulders and stared the Alpha dead in the eye, jaw clenched.  It would be funny later that he was taller than the guy, but at the moment it was an unfunny advantage he could use.  The Alpha blinked, covering his surprise quickly.

“Aww, don’t be like that.  I just want to talk is all.”

“Let. Go.”  

His wrist was dropped but the Alpha stepped closer, running his hand down Mark’s arm.  He growled at him as he jerked it back, energy rising and calling his beast all too easily. Belatedly he realized the Alpha was human and drunk.

“Mmph.  Feisty omega, eh?  I had no clue you were until I hunted down the source of that absolutely delectable aroma.  Imagine my surprise that it was you, sweetcheeks.  Never met one as tall as you.  Then again, one look at those lips and how could you be anything but omega?  They’re made for wrapping around Alpha cock.”

Mark fisted his hands in the guy’s shirt, snarling in his face.  “Back the fuck off, chucklefuck, or you’re gonna have a real bad night.” He could feel Kaidan seething behind him, but his pack Alpha didn’t move to intervene, only rumbled softly, soothing his beast so he didn’t lose control and shift in front of the human.

The Alpha knocked Mark’s hands off him.  “How dare you put your hands on me like that,” he spat.  “You should be so lucky anybody’s paying attention to you, you overgrown freak.”  Blood rushed in Mark’s ears and his skin felt tight; it would be so easy to shift and rip into the guy.  Clove and vanilla and musk drifted over him as his pack Alpha edged closer; calm flowed out from him to quiet him like it had on Torfan.  He inhaled deeply, trying to let it wash over him and do its job.

“You’re the one who fuckin’ started it, asshat.  You put hands on me.  Or d’you have that short of a fuckin’ memory because you don’t have enough blood to run your brain right now?  Fuck off.”

“Oh, sugar,” the Alpha sneered, grabbing Mark’s hip and jerking him forward, shoving his nose behind his ear and breathing in noisily.  “You’re just asking for a little attention.  Stop playing hard to get.  I can think of better uses for that mouth of yours.  At least that part isn’t ruined.  You’d be prettier if you got those scars fixed up.”

Rage flashed through him, burning embers and ice chips burrowing in his very being as red started eating his vision, carving it down into pinpoints.  Kaidan snarled behind him, any semblance of calm obliterated.  He didn’t even think; he grit his teeth and smashed his forehead into the offending Alpha’s nose.  

“Fix that, you motherfuckin’ slick-sucker.” He rammed his knee in the Alpha’s groin for good measure, shoving him back.  “Go bark up someone else’s fuckin’ tree.”

~*~*~*~

  Fury, white-hot and prickling, crawled under Kaidan’s skin at the sight of the human groping Mark and the words that dripped like sewage from his mouth. His hackles tried to rise and he could almost feel his tail stiffening as he stepped forward. He’d intended to let Mark deal with it on his own, to show the omega he trusted him to handle it after that debacle at Amie’s, but this was too much. He shouldn’t have to handle this on his own. This was Kaidan’s job to deal with. Every instinct he possessed screamed at him to pin the intruder down and sink his fangs into his throat.

“I would advise you to remove your hands from my omega before I remove them for you,” he growled in a low, dangerous voice, moving up to stand beside Mark. His lip curled up over canines he hadn’t meant to extend, but that was fine. Humans had an ingrained fear of weres, and Kaidan fully intended to utilize it. Mark slid his foot back until it touched his, seeking the grounding comfort of his pack leader. Good. Air shimmered around him from the heat of the energy surrounding him, but his form stayed solid.

“Your omega?” the Alpha wheezed nasally, holding a hand up to catch the blood dripping from his shattered nose and crouched in on himself.  “He’s not your omega; he doesn’t smell bonded to anybody.  Fair game.”  He stood up with a pained groan, eyes narrowed at them both as he muttered, “...need to keep him leashed; he doesn’t even act like a proper omega.  Challenging an Alpha like that...no manners.”

Humans. Their Alphas were by and large vile, disgusting creatures that treated omegas like property, like meat. Werewolves didn’t do that. A proper Alpha protected omegas. They didn’t grope them and practically mount them against their will. Mark had been exceptional for more reason than one. His former kind had netted a loss when he’d been turned.  

“‘Game,’” Kaidan repeated quietly, prowling around the human. He loomed over him, whispering, “Well, if our ‘prey’ is the one to draw first blood, tell me what, exactly, you think is going to happen when the predator steps in.” His hand flashed out, wrapping around the human’s throat and drawing them eye to eye. “See, mutt, your kind may be animals, but we treat omegas with respect. Get out, and if you ever put your hands on my omega again, I’ll rip your throat out with my teeth.”

He shoved the human Alpha back against the bar, glasses and bottles flying back and shattering, and turned to face Mark. His arm draped around the omega’s shoulders, pulling him close. That should send a message that even the foolish human should be able to read, as long as Mark didn’t shove him off. He cast another snarl behind him and nudged Mark forward. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

The bar was silent as they moved, bodies parting before them like the Red Sea. Mark shivered under his arm, his stress allowing a few flashes of his inner turmoil through. Kaidan couldn’t get his exact thoughts like this, but the gist was close enough. The position Kaidan had automatically put him into was a submissive one. Mark still thought of himself as an Alpha. Accepting this was a step he was probably otherwise not ready to take yet. On the other hand, being this close to him meant that Kaidan’s scent was permeating the air around him and he could only resist the lure of being close to pack after something like that for so long. Whether he admitted it or not, he needed this.

I called him ‘my omega,’ he remembered. The phrase hadn’t been intentional. It was technically true. Mark was pack. He was an omega. Kaidan was the reigning Alpha. That made Mark his omega. It only lacked the qualification ‘one of’ because he was the only one. That was all. But it had felt right to refer to him that way. Regardless, he was certainly more his than he was that asshole’s.  

“....thanks,” Mark said quietly as the officer housing bloc came into view.  “I owe ya.  Again.”

Kaidan paused, stepping in front of the other man and resting his hands on Mark’s shoulders, thumbs brushing his jaw as his eyes roved over his face. No injuries that he could see. His eyes were clear. The last traces of alcohol in his scent had burned off during the altercation. Biotics combined with the spike in his metabolism in preparation for his almost-shift had seen to that. Physically, he was fine and sobered up. “Are you alright? I didn’t step in because I didn’t want you to think I thought you incapable of handling it. You don’t owe me for it. That’s what pack’s for. We don’t have to face threats alone.”

“Peachy keen, jelly bean,” Mark sighed, focusing on Kaidan’s chin and keeping his unmarred cheek towards him. The scars from Torfan had yet to completely fade. They were still a raw pink that spiderwebbed around his left eye down his cheek like shattered glass that hadn’t yet fallen out of its frame. Mark’s eyes didn’t meet his. Shame, not submission.

Kaidan’s fingertips ghosted over Mark’s jaw, gently tipping his face so that he could see both sides. “He was wrong,” he said softly, resisting the urge to cup his cheek. Damn that human for doing this to him. Scarred or not, Mark was beautiful. “You aren’t ruined. You aren’t a freak. You survived. You should be proud of that. Very few people could do what you’ve done. I don’t think I could if the tables were turned.”

“Adapt and overcome, right?” Bright blue eyes finally met his.  The dull red gleam from the cybernetics was only noticeable in thicker dark than was ever going to be found on the streets of a space station.

“You’re doing more than that, Mark. Don’t sell yourself short. You’re...amazing.”

The tall omega exhaled slowly, internal debate over something or other flickering over his face and blue gaze flicking down to his mouth a moment before meeting his eyes again.  “If you say so, Kaidan.  I’ll take your word for it.”  

If he didn’t know better, Kaidan would think Mark was considering making a move. For a brief instant, he imagined doing so himself, but that would be wrong. Mark’s whole world had been turned upside down. Everything had changed. He’d just been accosted by one Alpha and was shaken up from the encounter. Mark would either fight him like he had the human or give in out of fear of losing the last bit of stability he had. Initiating with him would be taking advantage, and Kaidan wouldn’t do that.

Mark glanced over his shoulder, agitated.

“He won’t follow us,” Kaidan assured him, realizing his hand was still on the other man’s face. He let it drop back to his shoulder, still a bit amused that he had to look slightly up at the omega. “And I mean it. I’m not just saying it to be nice. I don’t do that. He was wrong. He doesn’t know you. I do.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about that…” Mark replied, focusing back on him and stepping into his personal space.  “And I believe you when you say it.”  His eyes dropped back down to Kaidan’s mouth.  “I just don’t believe me.”  The omega cupped his jaw and pressed forward, full lips meeting his.

Holy shit.

fin