False Idol 2/?
anonymous
June 28 2012, 00:48:38 UTC
"Hey," James said, nodding at Shepard. "Something I can do for you, Commander?"
Shepard moved in close, frowning down at the Avenger on James' bench. "What's this?"
"Damn thing keeps misfiring. It's just got a warped pin, here. Give me fifteen minutes and I'll have it sorted out."
James almost jumped when Shepard's hand landed heavily on his shoulder, squeezing once. Ridiculously, he found himself in fight-or-flight mode, and tried to relax. It was just Shepard. Just Shepard, who was always professional and proper and had never laid a hand on anyone unless fighting them. Maybe the Doc or someone had spoken to him about being more "collegial" with the crew. James felt thoroughly awkward.
"Good work," Shepard said.
The hand migrated down James' back, brushed his ass, and then was gone. By the time James recovered himself, Shepard was gone, too, striding over to talk to Cortez as if nothing had happened.
Nothing had happened, James told himself. Shepard had given him a pat on the back. Literally and figuratively. Great. Wasn't that always what he'd wanted, on some level? And so maybe the Commander's hand had slipped a little letting go. Probably Shepard was as embarrassed about it as James was. No big deal.
#
No big deal, James repeated to himself, when Shepard's hand landed on his knee in the middle of supper. Which was a big deal--Shepard sitting down with the entire crew, not eating up in his cabin like usual. Half the crew was sneaking sideways glances; even with as many missions they had been on together, the shine of working with Commander Shepard had yet to wear off.
Unfortunately, the meal was a lot more silent and awkward than James would've liked. He was sitting across from Kaidan Alenko, who had just come aboard the Normandy not two days ago; and oblivious as James could sometimes be, even he could sense the tension in the air between Shepard and the major.
Garrus seemed to be the only one still capable of cracking jokes--even raising the occasional smile out of Shepard--but he was farther down the table, and mostly chatting with Liara.
James was halfway ready to ask Shepard why he'd even let Kaidan back on board if they were still this pissed at each other when the hand came down on his knee. There was no squeezing, this time, just Shepard's fingers curled over the top of James' leg. He'd had a bite of Crewman Shepley's lousy excuse for huevos rancheros most of the way to his mouth and nearly dropped it.
When he looked over at Shepard, the Commander had his eyes straight forward, on Kaidan's. Something in his expression made James think better of first impulse to blurt "What the hell, Loco?" and shove Shepard's hand aside.
So he told himself "No big deal" and tried to keep eating. Which was hard, really hard, and he almost exploded with relief when Shepard finally stood up and left. Kaidan took his tray away a moment later, and Cortez scooted over to fill the void.
"That was weird," Cortez muttered.
James shook his head. "You have no idea."
"Oh yeah?"
And for a moment, James almost spilled; he'd always been able to talk to Cortez about anything. But he remembered the look on Shepard's face and thought better of it. He shook his head. "The food's terrible tonight, isn't it? Asqueroso."
When Cortez only raised an eyebrow and let the subject drop, James was impossibly grateful.
False Idol 3/?
anonymous
June 28 2012, 00:49:34 UTC
But there was no way for James to just blow off what happened a week later as "no big deal." It was late, the third watch, and James hadn't been able to sleep. So he did what he usually did when he needed to kill time and excess energy: he went down to his space in the shuttle bay and worked out. At that hour nobody was around, so he could go as hard and as loud as he liked, without Cortez providing commentary or one of the younger crewman drifting by to stare. Not that James necessarily minded either, when he was in the mood.
He was doing pull ups when he heard the lift open, but he didn't pay it much mind other than to tone down his grunting, assuming it was someone doing rounds. The hand on his ass a few seconds later startled him so much he almost let go of the pull up bar. He would have dropped down anyway--the better to deck whoever thought it was funny to have a free grab at him--but then Shepard spoke.
"Thought I might find you down here."
James froze while his brain tried to make sense of things. He could almost feel the gears in his head miss and grind against each other: maybe it was just a friendly pat, like football players, right? Maybe it was a thing from whatever colony or ship or where ever the heck Shepard was from. Maybe he was… from Bekenstien or whatever, folks there were supposed to be pretty casually free with their hands. Maybe this was Shepard's extremely terrible attempt at camaraderie again.
Then Shepard said: "You're pretty shameless, aren't you, James?" and he did not just squeeze James' ass; he slid his thumb down James' crack, pressing the fabric of his pants hard into it. This time James did let go, turning fast on Shepard, his hands automatically up in front of himself in guard position.
"What the hell, Shepard?"
Shepard stood up straight and crossed his arms over his chest. "Just assessing my war assets."
James fumbled hopelessly for some reply, still incapable of reconciling the Commander Shepard he knew and respected with the Commander Shepard who had just felt the hell out of his ass. And then made that kind of reply. He was still half-waiting for Shepard to start laughing at him, or for Cortez to pop out from behind the Kodiak, or for the announcement Joker would be sure to show the vid of his reaction the next morning at breakfast in the mess.
But before James could come up with anything that might make sense, Shepard turned around and left the shuttle bay, leaving him with nothing but an open mouth and a slightly dirtied feeling.
False Idol 4/?
anonymous
June 28 2012, 00:50:28 UTC
The last straw was the time Shepard caught him in the men's room, fresh out of the shower. He had a towel around his waist and not much else when Shepard strolled in. Shepard had been completely normal since the last incident, so James did his best to be equally cool; Shepard was still his CO, of course, and maybe he'd just been…drunk or something, the night in the shuttle bay. James hadn't smelled any alcohol, but…
He almost had himself convinced until Shepard walked right up to him and put a hand on his pecs, just along his breastbone. James froze just long enough for Shepard to slide his fingers downward, along his hard stomach and down to the edge of the towel, tugging.
Man he respected or not, James couldn't stop himself. He threw a punch. In the split second it took for his wet fist and arm to slide harmlessly off Shepard's impossibly fast block, he realized how much Shepard had been toying with him when they'd sparred. A moment later Shepard was twisting his arm up behind his back, forcing him down onto his knees onto the tiled floor of the restroom. James expected to be reprimanded for attacking a superior officer; he expected Shepard to call security. What he didn't expect was the feel of a hard cock being pressed up against his back, or Shepard's mouth hot on his neck as the commander knelt behind him. And then the hand, the invading, intruding hand, on his cock this time, groping him through the towel, feeling out the shape of him, giving him one hard stroke and another.
He reached for Shepard's hands but then they were gone. The weight and heat of Shepard behind him was gone, and he felt the towel slipping down around his hips.
James looked up to find Shepard looking down on him. There was a faint smile on the commander's face, and it sent a shiver through James. He couldn't help but think of Shepard's early words to him: "It's my ship. I go where I want, talk to whomever I want." No quarter given, in those words. Change that talk to take and…
"That will be all, lieutenant," Shepard said.
It took James a full five seconds to leap to his feet and shout "What the fuck was that?", but by then, Shepard was gone.
False Idol 5/?
anonymous
June 28 2012, 00:51:18 UTC
It was three days before he worked up the courage to confront Shepard. He would have preferred to do it somewhere less private than Shepard's quarters, but he couldn't take the embarrassment of Cortez or someone else overhearing. So he asked Traynor to let him know when the commander was up in his cabin and when she gave him the heads up, he marched himself to the upper level before he could lose his nerve.
He hadn't asked Traynor to inform Shepard that he was on his way, but somehow Shepard was waiting for him in the doorway as soon as he stepped off the lift.
"James," Shepard said, and nodded.
"Commander." James was caught off guard; the angry speech he had prepared fell to pieces. "I--uh. Look. We need to talk."
"This isn't the best time."
James felt his courage returning. "Look, I know this isn't exactly proper protocol or anything, but I don't really care if it's not the best time. We need to talk, ahorita."
Shepard crossed his arms. "Fine. Then come on in."
He stepped aside. James hurried through the door, trying to reassemble his speech. It was a futile effort, however, when he turned a corner and found himself facing a very naked Kaidan standing spread-eagled in the commander's shower, palms pressed against the far wall.
"Oh, Dios. I. Uh. Mierde. Okay, maybe, not the best time." He started to back away and backed straight into Shepard, who reached around him and tapped the shower door controls.
"Don't move," Shepard told Kaidan, as the doors closed. His eyes were cold and amused as he looked back at James. "You insisted. So talk."
James felt heat creeping up his neck and over his chest and across his face. "I'll be, uh, quick." He cleared his throat. He couldn't meet Shepard's eyes, much as he knew he had to. "Look, you've been, um. Kind of, you know. A bit." He balked. "Touchy feely lately. I just." He shrugged. "It's not exactly cool with me, Shepard." He tore his gaze away from the floor and forced himself to look in Shepard's face. "I mean, I guess if I had to judge, you're a pretty good looking guy, and all, but I'm not even sure I swing that way, right? So, uh, maybe you're better off, you know, with somebody else. Like. You know who. In the shower. And I'll be going now--"
Shepard shook his head. "You should know by now that I'm not fond of games, lieutenant."
"Yeah, well, I don't think I'm particularly fond of them right now, either. So how about I just go and--"
Shepard looked James over in a way that made him feel five centimetres tall. "So since my actions weren't loud enough for you, I'll come out and say it. I want to fuck you, James Vega."
James knew his face was beet red. It wasn't a particularly flattering look, either--he'd seen it in the mirror once or twice--and made his tattoos stark black against red skin. "I'm, I'm flattered, really, Commander, but I--"
"Maybe I should reword that. I'm going to fuck you, James." This time Shepard accompanied his words with action; he reached out and gripped the front of James' pants, and squeezed. James was startled to find himself half-hardening under Shepard's hold. "And I don't think you mind as much as you're saying you do."
False Idol 6/?
anonymous
June 28 2012, 00:52:35 UTC
"Shepard--"
The hand on James' dick began moving, stroking him through the thick fabric of his pants. "No, you don't mind at all, do you? You've been giving me a show since the first day you came on board the Normandy. Inviting me to 'dance.' Pushing your ass into my hand any chance you get."
"What the hell--I haven't--" James choked on his words as Shepard reached around, grabbing his ass with both hands, pulling their hips together. Fingers stroked down between his buttocks, along the seam of his pants, pressing it hard against his tailbone, and then lower down, against his ass hole. Shepard's hard cock ground against his own, and despite himself, James groaned. His hips jerked forward, and then back, caught between Shepard's hands and his cock. Shepard's hold was like iron, his whole body far stronger than James' would have thought to look at it; all the cybernetics, maybe, that he sometimes caught glowing in the back of Shepard's eyes, under the surface of his skin. Cold currents of fear slid down the back of James' neck and down his spine even as his cock turned rock hard against Shepard. He pried at Shepard's hands. A big man like him, he should be able to throw Shepard easy, but he couldn't; and he couldn't say how much of that was his own unwillingness to do so, and how much was Shepard's strength and skill.
"Shepard--Commander. Fuck. Don't."
And just like that, Shepard released him, sending him stumbling back, knocking model ships off their delicate perches. "Don't tell me. You're Catholic? Saving yourself for marriage? Chaste?"
James reddened even further. "I'm not a virgin, if that's what you're trying to say."
"But you don't know if you fuck guys."
"I've never. With a guy. There was I mean, this drunk thing. With Cortez and--never mind. We didn't. I didn't know if I. Yeah."
Shepard snorted. "Well now you'll find out." He advanced again, and James scrambled back against the desk. Shepard tugged James' zipper down, pulling his trousers low around his hips, all teeth at his white boxer-briefs. His fingers were warm and rough as they pulled James out of the flap in his briefs, and James groaned out loud as Shepard palmed him, then pumped him. His head fell back against the rear wall, framed on either side by the abandoned model supports, and he shuddered as Shepard jerked him off. Shepard's free hand slid James' shirt up, up, up until it was bunched up under his armpits, his pecs exposed; and then Shepard's mouth closed hard over one nipple, teeth rasping against it, tongue lathing over it. James jerked and a ridiculous giggle escaped him--Shepard's attentions sent an unbearable ticklish feeling shooting from his chest through his cock and down to the bottoms of his feeth, leaving him writhing and fighting until Shepard released his cock to jam him back up against the wall with one hand in the middle of his breastbone.
False Idol 7/?
anonymous
June 28 2012, 00:53:23 UTC
. Then he was moaning, the tickle turned into pleasure, the rough rasp of Shepard's stubbled upper lip and chin almost torturous against his chest. Shepard's fingers found his cock again and James was fucking himself hard into Shepard's fist, getting closer and closer until he was trembling, on the verge of coming, and then Shepard let go of him, left him fucking the air and his chest bare and cold and left him begging:
"--the fuck, why'd you stop, dios, fuck. Fuck."
And Shepard laughed, a cool, restrained laugh that made James want to fall onto his knees and beg and also want to flee as fast as he could. "Thought you didn't want this."
James knew then that this was his chance, that if he wanted out, now was the time. He could walk out, sure, and probably lose whatever respect Shepard had for him for having caved this far and then chickened out, but probably keep his own self-respect. Or he could say what Shepard wanted. He looked up, met Shepard's eyes.
"This is your ship," he said. "Doesn't matter what I want."
Shepard leaned in close, so close that James could feel the warm damp of his breath in his ear. "Good boy," he whispered, and then he leaned down and kissed James' neck, hard, sucking, claiming kisses, sure to leave bright red marks that James would have to explain away in the morning.
False Idol 8/?
anonymous
June 29 2012, 20:29:29 UTC
(I don't know how this has gotten so long. Still WIP, sorry... but at least another part? Thanks so much for the encouragement so far, hope I can keep it up.)
Shepard's praise provoked a surge of pride in James, even though he knew it was mocking. He kicked himself for it. This sure as fuck wasn't a round of drinks at the bar; a naked major spread-eagled and probably listening from inside the shower was the absolute opposite of a pair of hot asari twins. Creepy. And yet…
"Take this off." Shepard's voice hauled James out of his thoughts. He twisted a fistful of James' shirt in one hand. "Take everything off. You're a mess."
He moved off of James and James' fickle glow of pride evaporated; now there was disdain in Shepard's face, disapproval. "You're the one who did this," came and went on James' lips, swallowed down with a dry, nervous click.
Glancing down at himself, he saw he was a mess, shirt rucked up to show off his chest, his trousers sagging down around his thighs, his heavy, hard cock poking out the front flap of his briefs, wet pre-cum darkening the fronts and the waistband and shiny on his belly. He hurriedly stripped, shrugging out of the shirt, kicking his trousers free before shoving down his underpants.
When he looked back up Shepard was staring at him, predatory. The faint red glow behind his pupils was back, and he swept his gaze slowly over James, like some Krogan warlord eyeing up coveted territory. Shepard's eyes lingered over the muscled columns of James' thighs, the heavy hang of his balls and cock, drawing upwards, over James' sculpted chest, his shoulders and his thick neck, up until he looked James in the face. His smile was more of a sneer than anything else.
James felt inexplicably like prey.
"Turn around," Shepard said.
The creeping fingers of fear returned to the back of James' neck and tightened in his groin, twisting this time with need as he obeyed Shepard. He swore he could feel Shepard's eyes burning over his back, judging his triceps and delts and lats, assessing his ass and his calves.
A shaky breath escaped James, and he wondered again what the hell he was doing. He should have cut and run when he had the chance.
"Bend over," Shepard said, "And put your hands on the desk."
James balked, his stomach sinking. It hadn't really hit him until now that when Shepard said fucking him, he might mean, well, fucking him. Bending him over and pushing his cock inside him and taking him…
"Shepard, I don't know--"
"Bend over, lieutenant," Shepard barked, and James snapped-to, did as he was told. The desk was cool and smooth under his palms, and he wanted to press his burning cheek against it, but he didn't dare.
James had never felt so utterly naked. Completely exposed, ass in the air… he had to look more than a little ridiculous. What was he doing? What the hell was he doing? And what the hell was Shepard doing, just standing there, looking…?
There was the sharp grind of a zipper being pulled down. James clenched his teeth. He was suddenly, overwhelmingly nervous, more nervous than first time he'd made out with a girl back behind his uncle's place, put his shaking hand up under her skirt and felt the warm softness of her panties against his fingertips. He waited for the feel of Shepard's fingers on him, on his back, on his hips, pressing up against his ass again… but there was nothing. Nothing but the dry soft sound of skin on skin. James groaned at the image of Shepard behind him, just watching him as he stroked his cock. He started to look back, but Shepard said, sharply:
"Don't move."
Shepard's boots were too loud on the cabin floor as he moved. Fear jittering through him again, James tried to track how close Shepard was by the sound of his footsteps, but his movements were unclear, confused. Then he heard the sound of the shower door hissing open.
"Out. Now."
For a moment James was confused, and then he realized Shepard was speaking to Kaidan. James had forgotten all about him. Blushing so hard his ears were burning, James started to push back from the desk.
"I said don't move, lieutenant. Get back into position!"
False Idol 9/?
anonymous
June 29 2012, 20:30:25 UTC
James instantly obeyed, before his brain had time to process the order. He hoped the second hiss he heard was the main cabin door opening to let Kaidan out; he already had no idea how the hell he'd ever look the major in the eye again.
"Good," Shepard said. "Good. Like that."
A rough hand cupped James' left buttock. James shivered, feeling his cock growing hard again at the touch. Another hand pressed up against James' right; then spread his buttocks apart. James risked shifting his weight forward until his forehead touched the desk. He'd never felt so vulnerable.
He jerked upright as something hot and wet flicked against his asshole.
"Stay down!" Shepard growled. "I won't say it again, James."
James' cock twitched hard against his belly at Shepard's tone. He fought desperately to obey as the tongue flicked against him again, questing, tentative. He had time to think: Why so shy?, almost laughing, and then the tongue pushed against the tight ring of his ass and obliterated all his awkward thoughts. It circled once around him, eliciting a groan from him, and then stabbed again, and again, until it was working its way inside of him. James didn't have to fight to stay down anymore; he was falling forward, his legs spreading apart slightly, all his weight against the desk as Shepard thoroughly explored him.
"Madre de dios, loco, that feels… Oh, fuck it feels…"
"You like that, lieutenant? Thought you would."
James eyes flew open; the tongue was still slick against him, but Shepard was speaking. He craned his neck to see Shepard standing over him, hand on the head of the man enthusiastically licking James: Kaidan. Shepard was guiding Kaidan, urging him on with a fist in his hair, pressing him forward against James; his eyes were shining with pleasure and his cock stood hard and red and proud from the gap in his unzipped pants.
"Fuck," James moaned, and Shepard looked up, saw him looking. The next thing James knew he was being slammed face-first into the desk, Shepard's fingers pinching hard into the back of his neck. But Shepard didn't reprimand him otherwise. His words were all for Kaidan, and they were eager and vicious, hungry.
"Clean him out for me, major. Get him good and ready for me. Good and wet. That's good, major. Fuck him with your tongue. Deeper. Deeper."
James could hear Kaidan's urgent noises, feel Kaidan's groans and whimpers between his licks. He was practically panting himself. Kaidan had a fucking amazing tongue. Shepard's fingers dug harder into James' neck and James moaned, half in protest, half in encouragement.
"All right, that's enough."
Kaidan moved off of James and James bit his lip against the needy noise that slipped out of him. He didn't manage to cut it off in time, and Shepard laughed.
"He's fucking eager for it, isn't he, Kaidan? Just like you used to be." Another moan from Kaidan. James desperately wanted to look back, but Shepard had a death grip on him. "The lieutenant is a good little soldier, aren't you? So desperate to please your commander." Shepard's grip eased, fingers rubbing slow circles along James' skin. Helplessly, he sighed with pleasure. "You could learn a thing or two, Kaidan. Remember a thing or two. Remember how to be my good dog."
"I'm not--," James started, but Shepard cut him off with another pinch, before turning the abuse into a soft caress. He stroked down along James' spine to his lower back, slid his palm over the curve of James' ass. Shepard's voice dropped to a low growl.
"Don't worry, James. I can see right through you. Talking back to get my attention. Showing off your body with your tight shirts and your 'work outs' while I'm walking by. Don't worry. Now you're going to get what you've been begging for."
False Idol 10/?
anonymous
June 29 2012, 20:32:42 UTC
James moaned and curled his fingers uselessly against the desktop as Shepard's thumb brushed against his hole, through the slick of Kaidan's spit, and then pressed into James. It was an awkward, strange feeling that nonetheless made James' cock throb and his balls tighten. He curled his face against his bicep, panting hard.
"Shepard," he gasped, and he sounded desperate even to himself, lost and needy and confused.
The thumb slid out and was replaced by Shepard's fingers; more than one, for sure, but James couldn't guess how many. They felt too big, and the electric jolt as they brushed against a spot deep inside him made him rise up on his toes, jerk away.
"Shepard," he repeated, sweat dampening the back of his neck and weirdly, the backs of his knees. "I--"
Shepard's mouth brushed the back of his neck, stubble like the kiss of sandpaper on his skin, lightly stinging.
"If you say you can't," Shepard murmured, "I'll put my whole fist inside you."
Shepard's fingers twisted inside of James, slipped in and out of him more and more aggressively, until he was almost crawling on the desk, groaning for Shepard to slow down, to go faster, to go harder, to go easy on him, to--
Shepard slipped his fingers out, laughing.
"Clean them off, and get him wet again," he said; James snuck a look and saw Kaidan, still on his knees, mouthing Shepard's fingers. He seemed reluctant at first, but then his eyelids fluttered closed and he grew more enthusiastic, sucking and licking eagerly, until Shepard pulled his fingers free and grabbed Kaidan's head and steered him back towards James' ass.
Shepard caught James looking, and he smiled.
"Maybe he's right, Kaidan. What do you think? Maybe he's not ready for me just yet. Maybe I should let you fuck him, major. Start him off easy."
That old stubborn streak reared up in James. "Fuck you," he said. "I can take you on." After the words were out of his mouth, he realized too late what he'd just invited. And that it was probably right in line with Shepard's evil plan.
Shepard released Kaidan's hair and strode up to the desk, that wicked smile still twisting his mouth, and James thought he knew just how Shepard had earned a nickname like the Butcher of Torfan. He was one scary motherfucker.
"Is that what you think, lieutenant?"
James set his jaw. If he was going to go down in flames, he was going down with his head held high.
Then Shepard grabbed the back of his head and pulled him forward, until he had a full view of Shepard's cock and not much else. The commander was impressive in more ways than James had ever suspected. He was, nicely put, extremely well hung. James groaned as Shepard rubbed his dick against James' lips. He was going down, all right, in a very different sense of the word. Without much other choice, he parted his lips, let Shepard push into his mouth.
"Teeth," Shepard growled. "Watch your teeth, lieutenant."
Maybe Kaidan could show him how to do that, too, James thought irritably, gagging as Shepard hit the back of his throat. He hastily wrapped a hand around the base of Shepard's cock, trying to make up for all that he couldn't swallow. He'd had a few girlfriends pull that trick on him and he never minded much. Tried to ease back, concentrate on the soft heat of Shepard's cockhead, the rich, salty taste at the tip and the slight musky smell of his skin. Let his other hand slide between Shepard's thighs, cup the cooler weight of his balls, moving back…
Shepard caught James' wrist. "I don't think so." He frowned. "I can see I'm going to have to do a lot of training with you, James."
Shepard moved in close, frowning down at the Avenger on James' bench. "What's this?"
"Damn thing keeps misfiring. It's just got a warped pin, here. Give me fifteen minutes and I'll have it sorted out."
James almost jumped when Shepard's hand landed heavily on his shoulder, squeezing once. Ridiculously, he found himself in fight-or-flight mode, and tried to relax. It was just Shepard. Just Shepard, who was always professional and proper and had never laid a hand on anyone unless fighting them. Maybe the Doc or someone had spoken to him about being more "collegial" with the crew. James felt thoroughly awkward.
"Good work," Shepard said.
The hand migrated down James' back, brushed his ass, and then was gone. By the time James recovered himself, Shepard was gone, too, striding over to talk to Cortez as if nothing had happened.
Nothing had happened, James told himself. Shepard had given him a pat on the back. Literally and figuratively. Great. Wasn't that always what he'd wanted, on some level? And so maybe the Commander's hand had slipped a little letting go. Probably Shepard was as embarrassed about it as James was. No big deal.
#
No big deal, James repeated to himself, when Shepard's hand landed on his knee in the middle of supper. Which was a big deal--Shepard sitting down with the entire crew, not eating up in his cabin like usual. Half the crew was sneaking sideways glances; even with as many missions they had been on together, the shine of working with Commander Shepard had yet to wear off.
Unfortunately, the meal was a lot more silent and awkward than James would've liked. He was sitting across from Kaidan Alenko, who had just come aboard the Normandy not two days ago; and oblivious as James could sometimes be, even he could sense the tension in the air between Shepard and the major.
Garrus seemed to be the only one still capable of cracking jokes--even raising the occasional smile out of Shepard--but he was farther down the table, and mostly chatting with Liara.
James was halfway ready to ask Shepard why he'd even let Kaidan back on board if they were still this pissed at each other when the hand came down on his knee. There was no squeezing, this time, just Shepard's fingers curled over the top of James' leg. He'd had a bite of Crewman Shepley's lousy excuse for huevos rancheros most of the way to his mouth and nearly dropped it.
When he looked over at Shepard, the Commander had his eyes straight forward, on Kaidan's. Something in his expression made James think better of first impulse to blurt "What the hell, Loco?" and shove Shepard's hand aside.
So he told himself "No big deal" and tried to keep eating. Which was hard, really hard, and he almost exploded with relief when Shepard finally stood up and left. Kaidan took his tray away a moment later, and Cortez scooted over to fill the void.
"That was weird," Cortez muttered.
James shook his head. "You have no idea."
"Oh yeah?"
And for a moment, James almost spilled; he'd always been able to talk to Cortez about anything. But he remembered the look on Shepard's face and thought better of it. He shook his head. "The food's terrible tonight, isn't it? Asqueroso."
When Cortez only raised an eyebrow and let the subject drop, James was impossibly grateful.
#
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He was doing pull ups when he heard the lift open, but he didn't pay it much mind other than to tone down his grunting, assuming it was someone doing rounds. The hand on his ass a few seconds later startled him so much he almost let go of the pull up bar. He would have dropped down anyway--the better to deck whoever thought it was funny to have a free grab at him--but then Shepard spoke.
"Thought I might find you down here."
James froze while his brain tried to make sense of things. He could almost feel the gears in his head miss and grind against each other: maybe it was just a friendly pat, like football players, right? Maybe it was a thing from whatever colony or ship or where ever the heck Shepard was from. Maybe he was… from Bekenstien or whatever, folks there were supposed to be pretty casually free with their hands. Maybe this was Shepard's extremely terrible attempt at camaraderie again.
Then Shepard said: "You're pretty shameless, aren't you, James?" and he did not just squeeze James' ass; he slid his thumb down James' crack, pressing the fabric of his pants hard into it. This time James did let go, turning fast on Shepard, his hands automatically up in front of himself in guard position.
"What the hell, Shepard?"
Shepard stood up straight and crossed his arms over his chest. "Just assessing my war assets."
James fumbled hopelessly for some reply, still incapable of reconciling the Commander Shepard he knew and respected with the Commander Shepard who had just felt the hell out of his ass. And then made that kind of reply. He was still half-waiting for Shepard to start laughing at him, or for Cortez to pop out from behind the Kodiak, or for the announcement Joker would be sure to show the vid of his reaction the next morning at breakfast in the mess.
But before James could come up with anything that might make sense, Shepard turned around and left the shuttle bay, leaving him with nothing but an open mouth and a slightly dirtied feeling.
#
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He almost had himself convinced until Shepard walked right up to him and put a hand on his pecs, just along his breastbone. James froze just long enough for Shepard to slide his fingers downward, along his hard stomach and down to the edge of the towel, tugging.
Man he respected or not, James couldn't stop himself. He threw a punch. In the split second it took for his wet fist and arm to slide harmlessly off Shepard's impossibly fast block, he realized how much Shepard had been toying with him when they'd sparred. A moment later Shepard was twisting his arm up behind his back, forcing him down onto his knees onto the tiled floor of the restroom. James expected to be reprimanded for attacking a superior officer; he expected Shepard to call security. What he didn't expect was the feel of a hard cock being pressed up against his back, or Shepard's mouth hot on his neck as the commander knelt behind him. And then the hand, the invading, intruding hand, on his cock this time, groping him through the towel, feeling out the shape of him, giving him one hard stroke and another.
He reached for Shepard's hands but then they were gone. The weight and heat of Shepard behind him was gone, and he felt the towel slipping down around his hips.
James looked up to find Shepard looking down on him. There was a faint smile on the commander's face, and it sent a shiver through James. He couldn't help but think of Shepard's early words to him: "It's my ship. I go where I want, talk to whomever I want." No quarter given, in those words. Change that talk to take and…
"That will be all, lieutenant," Shepard said.
It took James a full five seconds to leap to his feet and shout "What the fuck was that?", but by then, Shepard was gone.
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He hadn't asked Traynor to inform Shepard that he was on his way, but somehow Shepard was waiting for him in the doorway as soon as he stepped off the lift.
"James," Shepard said, and nodded.
"Commander." James was caught off guard; the angry speech he had prepared fell to pieces. "I--uh. Look. We need to talk."
"This isn't the best time."
James felt his courage returning. "Look, I know this isn't exactly proper protocol or anything, but I don't really care if it's not the best time. We need to talk, ahorita."
Shepard crossed his arms. "Fine. Then come on in."
He stepped aside. James hurried through the door, trying to reassemble his speech. It was a futile effort, however, when he turned a corner and found himself facing a very naked Kaidan standing spread-eagled in the commander's shower, palms pressed against the far wall.
"Oh, Dios. I. Uh. Mierde. Okay, maybe, not the best time." He started to back away and backed straight into Shepard, who reached around him and tapped the shower door controls.
"Don't move," Shepard told Kaidan, as the doors closed. His eyes were cold and amused as he looked back at James. "You insisted. So talk."
James felt heat creeping up his neck and over his chest and across his face. "I'll be, uh, quick." He cleared his throat. He couldn't meet Shepard's eyes, much as he knew he had to. "Look, you've been, um. Kind of, you know. A bit." He balked. "Touchy feely lately. I just." He shrugged. "It's not exactly cool with me, Shepard." He tore his gaze away from the floor and forced himself to look in Shepard's face. "I mean, I guess if I had to judge, you're a pretty good looking guy, and all, but I'm not even sure I swing that way, right? So, uh, maybe you're better off, you know, with somebody else. Like. You know who. In the shower. And I'll be going now--"
Shepard shook his head. "You should know by now that I'm not fond of games, lieutenant."
"Yeah, well, I don't think I'm particularly fond of them right now, either. So how about I just go and--"
Shepard looked James over in a way that made him feel five centimetres tall. "So since my actions weren't loud enough for you, I'll come out and say it. I want to fuck you, James Vega."
James knew his face was beet red. It wasn't a particularly flattering look, either--he'd seen it in the mirror once or twice--and made his tattoos stark black against red skin. "I'm, I'm flattered, really, Commander, but I--"
"Maybe I should reword that. I'm going to fuck you, James." This time Shepard accompanied his words with action; he reached out and gripped the front of James' pants, and squeezed. James was startled to find himself half-hardening under Shepard's hold. "And I don't think you mind as much as you're saying you do."
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The hand on James' dick began moving, stroking him through the thick fabric of his pants. "No, you don't mind at all, do you? You've been giving me a show since the first day you came on board the Normandy. Inviting me to 'dance.' Pushing your ass into my hand any chance you get."
"What the hell--I haven't--" James choked on his words as Shepard reached around, grabbing his ass with both hands, pulling their hips together. Fingers stroked down between his buttocks, along the seam of his pants, pressing it hard against his tailbone, and then lower down, against his ass hole. Shepard's hard cock ground against his own, and despite himself, James groaned. His hips jerked forward, and then back, caught between Shepard's hands and his cock. Shepard's hold was like iron, his whole body far stronger than James' would have thought to look at it; all the cybernetics, maybe, that he sometimes caught glowing in the back of Shepard's eyes, under the surface of his skin. Cold currents of fear slid down the back of James' neck and down his spine even as his cock turned rock hard against Shepard. He pried at Shepard's hands. A big man like him, he should be able to throw Shepard easy, but he couldn't; and he couldn't say how much of that was his own unwillingness to do so, and how much was Shepard's strength and skill.
"Shepard--Commander. Fuck. Don't."
And just like that, Shepard released him, sending him stumbling back, knocking model ships off their delicate perches. "Don't tell me. You're Catholic? Saving yourself for marriage? Chaste?"
James reddened even further. "I'm not a virgin, if that's what you're trying to say."
"But you don't know if you fuck guys."
"I've never. With a guy. There was I mean, this drunk thing. With Cortez and--never mind. We didn't. I didn't know if I. Yeah."
Shepard snorted. "Well now you'll find out." He advanced again, and James scrambled back against the desk. Shepard tugged James' zipper down, pulling his trousers low around his hips, all teeth at his white boxer-briefs. His fingers were warm and rough as they pulled James out of the flap in his briefs, and James groaned out loud as Shepard palmed him, then pumped him. His head fell back against the rear wall, framed on either side by the abandoned model supports, and he shuddered as Shepard jerked him off. Shepard's free hand slid James' shirt up, up, up until it was bunched up under his armpits, his pecs exposed; and then Shepard's mouth closed hard over one nipple, teeth rasping against it, tongue lathing over it. James jerked and a ridiculous giggle escaped him--Shepard's attentions sent an unbearable ticklish feeling shooting from his chest through his cock and down to the bottoms of his feeth, leaving him writhing and fighting until Shepard released his cock to jam him back up against the wall with one hand in the middle of his breastbone.
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"--the fuck, why'd you stop, dios, fuck. Fuck."
And Shepard laughed, a cool, restrained laugh that made James want to fall onto his knees and beg and also want to flee as fast as he could. "Thought you didn't want this."
James knew then that this was his chance, that if he wanted out, now was the time. He could walk out, sure, and probably lose whatever respect Shepard had for him for having caved this far and then chickened out, but probably keep his own self-respect. Or he could say what Shepard wanted. He looked up, met Shepard's eyes.
"This is your ship," he said. "Doesn't matter what I want."
Shepard leaned in close, so close that James could feel the warm damp of his breath in his ear. "Good boy," he whispered, and then he leaned down and kissed James' neck, hard, sucking, claiming kisses, sure to leave bright red marks that James would have to explain away in the morning.
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Congratulations A!A, I think this story will haunt my mind day and night until I read the rest of it. O_o
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Shepard's praise provoked a surge of pride in James, even though he knew it was mocking. He kicked himself for it. This sure as fuck wasn't a round of drinks at the bar; a naked major spread-eagled and probably listening from inside the shower was the absolute opposite of a pair of hot asari twins. Creepy. And yet…
"Take this off." Shepard's voice hauled James out of his thoughts. He twisted a fistful of James' shirt in one hand. "Take everything off. You're a mess."
He moved off of James and James' fickle glow of pride evaporated; now there was disdain in Shepard's face, disapproval. "You're the one who did this," came and went on James' lips, swallowed down with a dry, nervous click.
Glancing down at himself, he saw he was a mess, shirt rucked up to show off his chest, his trousers sagging down around his thighs, his heavy, hard cock poking out the front flap of his briefs, wet pre-cum darkening the fronts and the waistband and shiny on his belly. He hurriedly stripped, shrugging out of the shirt, kicking his trousers free before shoving down his underpants.
When he looked back up Shepard was staring at him, predatory. The faint red glow behind his pupils was back, and he swept his gaze slowly over James, like some Krogan warlord eyeing up coveted territory. Shepard's eyes lingered over the muscled columns of James' thighs, the heavy hang of his balls and cock, drawing upwards, over James' sculpted chest, his shoulders and his thick neck, up until he looked James in the face. His smile was more of a sneer than anything else.
James felt inexplicably like prey.
"Turn around," Shepard said.
The creeping fingers of fear returned to the back of James' neck and tightened in his groin, twisting this time with need as he obeyed Shepard. He swore he could feel Shepard's eyes burning over his back, judging his triceps and delts and lats, assessing his ass and his calves.
A shaky breath escaped James, and he wondered again what the hell he was doing. He should have cut and run when he had the chance.
"Bend over," Shepard said, "And put your hands on the desk."
James balked, his stomach sinking. It hadn't really hit him until now that when Shepard said fucking him, he might mean, well, fucking him. Bending him over and pushing his cock inside him and taking him…
"Shepard, I don't know--"
"Bend over, lieutenant," Shepard barked, and James snapped-to, did as he was told. The desk was cool and smooth under his palms, and he wanted to press his burning cheek against it, but he didn't dare.
James had never felt so utterly naked. Completely exposed, ass in the air… he had to look more than a little ridiculous. What was he doing? What the hell was he doing? And what the hell was Shepard doing, just standing there, looking…?
There was the sharp grind of a zipper being pulled down. James clenched his teeth. He was suddenly, overwhelmingly nervous, more nervous than first time he'd made out with a girl back behind his uncle's place, put his shaking hand up under her skirt and felt the warm softness of her panties against his fingertips. He waited for the feel of Shepard's fingers on him, on his back, on his hips, pressing up against his ass again… but there was nothing. Nothing but the dry soft sound of skin on skin. James groaned at the image of Shepard behind him, just watching him as he stroked his cock. He started to look back, but Shepard said, sharply:
"Don't move."
Shepard's boots were too loud on the cabin floor as he moved. Fear jittering through him again, James tried to track how close Shepard was by the sound of his footsteps, but his movements were unclear, confused. Then he heard the sound of the shower door hissing open.
"Out. Now."
For a moment James was confused, and then he realized Shepard was speaking to Kaidan. James had forgotten all about him. Blushing so hard his ears were burning, James started to push back from the desk.
"I said don't move, lieutenant. Get back into position!"
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"Good," Shepard said. "Good. Like that."
A rough hand cupped James' left buttock. James shivered, feeling his cock growing hard again at the touch. Another hand pressed up against James' right; then spread his buttocks apart. James risked shifting his weight forward until his forehead touched the desk. He'd never felt so vulnerable.
He jerked upright as something hot and wet flicked against his asshole.
"Stay down!" Shepard growled. "I won't say it again, James."
James' cock twitched hard against his belly at Shepard's tone. He fought desperately to obey as the tongue flicked against him again, questing, tentative. He had time to think: Why so shy?, almost laughing, and then the tongue pushed against the tight ring of his ass and obliterated all his awkward thoughts. It circled once around him, eliciting a groan from him, and then stabbed again, and again, until it was working its way inside of him. James didn't have to fight to stay down anymore; he was falling forward, his legs spreading apart slightly, all his weight against the desk as Shepard thoroughly explored him.
"Madre de dios, loco, that feels… Oh, fuck it feels…"
"You like that, lieutenant? Thought you would."
James eyes flew open; the tongue was still slick against him, but Shepard was speaking. He craned his neck to see Shepard standing over him, hand on the head of the man enthusiastically licking James: Kaidan. Shepard was guiding Kaidan, urging him on with a fist in his hair, pressing him forward against James; his eyes were shining with pleasure and his cock stood hard and red and proud from the gap in his unzipped pants.
"Fuck," James moaned, and Shepard looked up, saw him looking. The next thing James knew he was being slammed face-first into the desk, Shepard's fingers pinching hard into the back of his neck. But Shepard didn't reprimand him otherwise. His words were all for Kaidan, and they were eager and vicious, hungry.
"Clean him out for me, major. Get him good and ready for me. Good and wet. That's good, major. Fuck him with your tongue. Deeper. Deeper."
James could hear Kaidan's urgent noises, feel Kaidan's groans and whimpers between his licks. He was practically panting himself. Kaidan had a fucking amazing tongue. Shepard's fingers dug harder into James' neck and James moaned, half in protest, half in encouragement.
"All right, that's enough."
Kaidan moved off of James and James bit his lip against the needy noise that slipped out of him. He didn't manage to cut it off in time, and Shepard laughed.
"He's fucking eager for it, isn't he, Kaidan? Just like you used to be." Another moan from Kaidan. James desperately wanted to look back, but Shepard had a death grip on him. "The lieutenant is a good little soldier, aren't you? So desperate to please your commander." Shepard's grip eased, fingers rubbing slow circles along James' skin. Helplessly, he sighed with pleasure. "You could learn a thing or two, Kaidan. Remember a thing or two. Remember how to be my good dog."
"I'm not--," James started, but Shepard cut him off with another pinch, before turning the abuse into a soft caress. He stroked down along James' spine to his lower back, slid his palm over the curve of James' ass. Shepard's voice dropped to a low growl.
"Don't worry, James. I can see right through you. Talking back to get my attention. Showing off your body with your tight shirts and your 'work outs' while I'm walking by. Don't worry. Now you're going to get what you've been begging for."
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"Shepard," he gasped, and he sounded desperate even to himself, lost and needy and confused.
The thumb slid out and was replaced by Shepard's fingers; more than one, for sure, but James couldn't guess how many. They felt too big, and the electric jolt as they brushed against a spot deep inside him made him rise up on his toes, jerk away.
"Shepard," he repeated, sweat dampening the back of his neck and weirdly, the backs of his knees. "I--"
Shepard's mouth brushed the back of his neck, stubble like the kiss of sandpaper on his skin, lightly stinging.
"If you say you can't," Shepard murmured, "I'll put my whole fist inside you."
Shepard's fingers twisted inside of James, slipped in and out of him more and more aggressively, until he was almost crawling on the desk, groaning for Shepard to slow down, to go faster, to go harder, to go easy on him, to--
Shepard slipped his fingers out, laughing.
"Clean them off, and get him wet again," he said; James snuck a look and saw Kaidan, still on his knees, mouthing Shepard's fingers. He seemed reluctant at first, but then his eyelids fluttered closed and he grew more enthusiastic, sucking and licking eagerly, until Shepard pulled his fingers free and grabbed Kaidan's head and steered him back towards James' ass.
Shepard caught James looking, and he smiled.
"Maybe he's right, Kaidan. What do you think? Maybe he's not ready for me just yet. Maybe I should let you fuck him, major. Start him off easy."
That old stubborn streak reared up in James. "Fuck you," he said. "I can take you on." After the words were out of his mouth, he realized too late what he'd just invited. And that it was probably right in line with Shepard's evil plan.
Shepard released Kaidan's hair and strode up to the desk, that wicked smile still twisting his mouth, and James thought he knew just how Shepard had earned a nickname like the Butcher of Torfan. He was one scary motherfucker.
"Is that what you think, lieutenant?"
James set his jaw. If he was going to go down in flames, he was going down with his head held high.
Then Shepard grabbed the back of his head and pulled him forward, until he had a full view of Shepard's cock and not much else. The commander was impressive in more ways than James had ever suspected. He was, nicely put, extremely well hung. James groaned as Shepard rubbed his dick against James' lips. He was going down, all right, in a very different sense of the word. Without much other choice, he parted his lips, let Shepard push into his mouth.
"Teeth," Shepard growled. "Watch your teeth, lieutenant."
Maybe Kaidan could show him how to do that, too, James thought irritably, gagging as Shepard hit the back of his throat. He hastily wrapped a hand around the base of Shepard's cock, trying to make up for all that he couldn't swallow. He'd had a few girlfriends pull that trick on him and he never minded much. Tried to ease back, concentrate on the soft heat of Shepard's cockhead, the rich, salty taste at the tip and the slight musky smell of his skin. Let his other hand slide between Shepard's thighs, cup the cooler weight of his balls, moving back…
Shepard caught James' wrist. "I don't think so." He frowned. "I can see I'm going to have to do a lot of training with you, James."
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That was some seriously sexy stuff. *fan self*
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