Re: MShep/Tarquin Victus Fortuitous 28
anonymous
December 1 2015, 11:32:53 UTC
Terrence’s face lit up in a smile at the fact that Tarquin wanted this more than he was letting on.
As Terrence slowly trailed his fingers, falling back to his old experience with women and treating the opening a little like a pussy. When his tongue licked across the opening, streaking across the emerging head of Tarquin’s cock, the finger that had been in his mouth pressed against his hole, testing.
Terrence took satisfaction in Tarquin’s low growling moans, relieved that he was actually enjoying this, and took the tapered head of Tarquin’s dick into his mouth as the shaft began to extend behind it. He groaned around the musky sweet taste of his flesh as the finger finally began to sink inside of him. It’d been too long since he’d been with a guy.
A faint pressure descended on his head as Tarquin’s other hand fell on top of his head, gently cradling it as his finger began to move further into his hole. Terrence complimented his motion by taking a bit more of his cock into his mouth, cataloguing the textures as his tongue moved along the thickly ridged underside to the more lightly ridged top with its bulging veins. The idea of those ridges in his ass, rubbing against his prostate, and they would with how thick Tarquin was, made him squeeze in desire around Tarquin’s first knuckle which had been slowly coaxed through his sphincter. Tarquin’s cock was still gross, but the good kind of gross. Privately, Terrence thought its quasi-skinless appearance belonged on an animal, but that could be his human bias showing. For all he knew, other alien races kept all their junk internally too.
“Did you just squeeze me?” When Terrence slurped an affirmative around his thick piece, he began to slowly move his finger in and out.
“You’re so tight and hot in here. Spirits… do you think you can really take me?”
Terrence lifted off of Tarquin, and began to idly stroke him.
“Definitely. Curl your finger a little towards my dick,” Terrence said.
When Tarquin’s finger brushed against his prostate, the only thing holding him up, against the jolt that rushed through him, was Tarquin’s cock.
“There. That’s what makes this feel so good for human males,” Terrence said. “Prostate, Tarquin. Tarquin, prostate.”
Tarquin chuckled, and when had his laugh become so fucking hot? It was like a rolling heat setting him alight.
Terrence realized that it could be Tarquin simply pressing against his prostate with every gentle corkscrew of his finger.
“Anyway, I will take all of you. Every inch,” he promised, taking a long lick of the tall staff before him. He gave a light squeeze of the base, provoking Tarquin to growl at him. Somehow, it didn’t scare him. If anything, it made him more interested in continuing.
“I’ll make sure of it. I won’t let you nut inside me until I feel this,” he squeezed the base again, “inside me.”
“I want that too,” Tarquin said. He began to buck his hips up, and Terrence sank back down his shaft, suckling on the cock thrusting gently into his mouth.
“You’ll message me when you get leave? You have my omnitool ID. I’ll try and coordinate so mine is at the same time.”
Terrence managed to nod an affirmative as Tarquin began to repeatedly hit the entrance to his throat. It was difficult not to gag.
“I won’t be able to get off for at least another six to nine months, so it’ll be a little while.”
“Stop for a second.”
Tarquin pulled his finger out of him, slowly, and presented him with his untouched middle finger.
“Get this wet please.”
A thrill of excitement went through Terrence at the idea of both his fingers inside him. Once his finger was sufficiently wet, he removed it, and Terrence began to distract himself by running his tongue along the veins of his cock.
Tarquin slowly eased his finger back inside about halfway to the previous depth, hissing moans escaping him as he did so at the feeling of Terrence’s mouth. He then began to gently push his second finger in, and it sank in with a burn. Terrence felt stuffed at both ends.
Re: MShep/Tarquin Victus Fortuitous 29
anonymous
December 1 2015, 11:33:48 UTC
After several minutes of obscene wet noises from the sounds of Terrence’s mouth and Tarquin’s cock, which was throbbing more and more, Tarquin sank both fingers in to the second knuckle, watching with fascination as Terrence’s irritated ring squeezed spasmodically around his thick digits.
“I believe you now. You can definitely take me. If only we had more time…”
With those words, they were both reminded by how little time they had left and both began to speed up. Tarquin’s hand moved from his head and rifled underneath him until he found Terrence’s cock, rock hard and dripping on the mattress and began to stroke him.
Terrence briefly lifted up to inform he was going to swallow, purely to see what he tasted like, and Tarquin began to stroke him with a vengeance.
One thing that Terrence could take from this experience, was that turians came a lot and made a shit ton of noise. It was a struggle to contain all the spurts of bittersweet cum in his mouth, and he’d wanted to, even whilst he shook as he came into Tarquin’s hand. Unfortunately, it ended up spilling out of his mouth, down the shaft and onto his base and crotch. Terrence mused to himself as he licked it all up with relish, that if there was one area where turians beat humans, outside of size, it was in the taste of their cum. He’d give them that.
“You taste pretty good,” he said, turning to lick his swollen lips of any remaining residue or cum at Tarquin. Tarquin’s fingers were still buried in his ass, so the resulting full body shudder Tarquin gave was also felt in his ass.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at a human’s lips the same way ever again,” he said breathlessly.
Terrence idly licked Tarquin’s cock clean for some time before checking his omnitool. 6:02.
“I need to shower. Want to share?” Terrence asked. Tarquin lead the way, lifting him in bridal style and ignoring his demands to put him down. Neither of them commented on the fingers still inside of him.
Their shower was rather chaste. There was some appreciation of each other’s bodies, with Terrence marvelling at his powerful thighs and abdomen and Tarquin idly exploring his muscled chest before falling back to gripping his muscular ass. The anticipation was palpable, but they focussed on getting clean and out. As they dried themselves, with his sharp eyes, Tarquin noticed the very slight discoloration on his right shoulder from the tattoo he used to have.
“I used to have a tattoo of The Reds on my shoulder. Tattoos, let alone gang signs, are against Alliance regs. It had to go, so they paid for me to get it removed by laser.”
Re: MShep/Tarquin Victus Fortuitous 30
anonymous
December 1 2015, 11:34:39 UTC
Tarquin nodded.
They dressed in silence, and suddenly the mood was somewhat sombre.
“This is goodbye for now, I guess?” Terrence asked. Suddenly all the comfort and ease built seemed to shatter.
“We still have whales to get and England to conquer,” Tarquin said, raising a brow ridge in amusement. “I’m going to keep in touch with my only human friend.”
“Of course,” Terrence said, smacking his head in mock reprimand, “how can we forget Queen ‘twenty six galleasses’ Elizabeth. Forgive me, Tarquin.”
Again, like yesterday, he made his voice low and gravelly, a mimicry of his father.
“You are forgiven, my friend.”
They both laughed a little, the mood easing slightly.
“I.. I just want to thank you for everything. For listening. For the intimacy. For well.. just being you,” Terrence said, summoning every ounce of sincerity he could muster.
A flush of blue emerged on Tarquin’s neck.
“There’s no need, but you’re welcome,” Tarquin said. “Want me to come with you to the docks?”
Terrence shook his head in the negative.
“Sorry, but I want to do this alone. I just want to… stand on my own two feet? Not flinch and duck around non-humans or use you as a shield. I’m tired of being a coward.”
Being Tarquin, it seemed only natural that he’d understand. His mandibles flared in a smile.
“You’re a better, stronger person than you think you are, Terrence. I imagine you’ll show the Alliance that too.”
They exchanged salutes. Tarquin placing his hand on Terrence’s shoulder before placing a fist against his own chest, and Terrence simply placing his hand to his temple.
Terrence could only marvel at how strange it felt to be believed in as he walked out of the hotel room, head held high, feeling like the galaxy was his oyster.
Re: MShep/Tarquin Victus Fortuitous 30
anonymous
December 1 2015, 16:47:52 UTC
Yay for more of this. The fact that they were not physically attracted to each other, but emotionally attracted was a nice touch. I really want to see their relationship through the games.
Re: MShep/Tarquin Victus Fortuitous 31
anonymous
December 2 2015, 13:22:24 UTC
Life on the Normandy slowly got better. Whilst his change in mindset didn’t rapidly hit a switch that regained him the complete control he used to have, he was getting better and better by the day in biotic training. More importantly, the crew were slowly starting to include him in the camaraderie that he’d completely failed to notice in his brooding. It seemed that wherever he went, he picked up a nickname. From ‘resting bitch face nigga’ to ‘FNG’. Freaking New Guy. It was an improvement at least.
Terrence couldn’t help but think of what happened at breakfast, a week after shore leave on the Citadel.
“It seems you’ve finally removed the stick up your ass, Shepard,” Flight Lieutenant Moreau had said to him in the mess, having quickly noticed the neutral expression he’d adopted since the day after he’d returned from the Citadel.
“At least I don’t require assistance to shove something up my ass, Flight Lieutenant,” Terrence had joked back, where before he’d simply grunt or sneer at Moreau. They were the youngest onboard the ship - both being prodigies, except Moreau had more than exceeded expectations of him, whilst he’d floundered. Terrence had hated him for a time. If Moreau was the crown jewel of the ship (and he was a really fucking good pilot, even he couldn’t deny that), then he was the grumpy hermit that everyone was indifferent or borderline hostile towards.
Moreau’s customary smile faltered a second, and Terrence was about to apologize, when Moreau and one of the nearby engineers on Chief Engineer Adams’ table had roared with laughter.
“He got you good, Joker,” Chief Engineer Adams had said between a sip of his coffee.
“Oh he did, he really did,” Joker had said, a wide grin turning up the slowly growing facial hair on his lip. “Whoever you got laid with, Shepard, please go and visit them every shore leave. You’re almost a normal person now!”
He didn’t bother to deny it. Even he knew, with how little he’d interacted with the crew, that if someone came aboard just before the ship became aweigh, they’d either came from important business or had gotten some the night before. Usually the latter.
“Will do, Flight Lieutenant,” Shepard had said, taking a break from dipping a slice of bread in his mystery soup to give a mock salute.
“Pssh... “ Joker had waved his hands in dismissal. “Call me Jeff, or Joker. I prefer Joker,” Joker had said, offering his hand in a truce? Friendship?
Terrence took it in his own.
“Nice firm handshake, man. No squeezing too,” Joker had said, tilting his head at him with a smile. “Taking pity on a little ol’ cripple like me?”
Terrence had almost spluttered in denial, incredibly self-conscious as everyone was watching now. Even Anderson from his spot at the canteen was watching from where he’d been speaking intently to the cook, Corporal Chase, he now knew his name to be.
“Should I have squeezed your hand to establish dominance or some shit?” Terrence had shook his head. “This is the military, not a boxing ring.”
Joker had tutted in disapproval.
“That’s how the pecking order in this place works, Shepard. You squeeze hard enough and you get promoted,” Joker had said. “How do you think I became a Flight Lieutenant at the age of twenty?”
Terrence had hummed under his breath in consideration before offering his right hand, a faint haze of blue enveloping it.
Re: MShep/Tarquin Victus Fortuitous 32
anonymous
December 2 2015, 13:23:27 UTC
Joker had shook his head with a cautious chuckle whilst some scattered sounds of amusement had washed the mess.
“Sorry, I don’t want to find out if you’ve got full control of your space magic voodoo just yet. When I become an Admiral with my palms of steel, I’ll let everyone know that you deserve a promotion,” Joker had said.
“You’re not bad, Shepard,” he had said before wheeling himself back to his table, or more likely the cockpit.
The dull roar of chinking cutlery and conversation had re-engulfed the mess as he left.
Joker had been like the litmus test. Slowly, people started to involve him in their free time aboard the Tokyo.
Chief Engineer Adams had started inviting him to the drinking parties that he hosted on the lower decks. It had been a complete shock to find out that Chakwas, on the one time she’d been wrestled away from her work, could drink them all under the table. Sometimes, Pressly even said hello to him in the corridors.
The prick of a needle against the nape of his neck woke him from his recollections.
Terrence let out a slight hiss.
Chakwas wiped the area around his newly fitted amp with an antiseptic wipe. The surgery had been done whilst he’d been awake with local anaesthetic, but now that it had begun to wore off, it was starting to sting like hell. Was the entire back of his head meant to ache?
“I’m just taking a quick biopsy to ensure that everything is healthy.”
She placed the tissue and blood sample in a tube on the table next to them before carefully examining the nape of his neck.
“From a purely visual examination, it’s clear there’s some minor irritation,” minor? “due to rejection at the implant site from the surrounding tissues. I’ll give you some antibiotics and some anti-inflammatories to reduce the swelling.”
She continued speaking.
“If those fail to work, we can put you on a program of immunosuppressants until we can find an amp more compatible with you.”
Terrence suddenly had vivid images of apocalyptic scenes where he’d been the source of a mutated version of a disease that had decimated the galaxy. Kill the immunosuppressed! an incredibly sickly asari wheezed in his mind.
Terrence shook his head in an attempt to escape his overactive imagination.
“And how long will that take, Major?”
Chakwas gave a wry smile.
“Could be decades. Progress with biotic amps is proving slow as the asari and salarians are proving to be very cagey with the exact biophysics surrounding biotics. Our own explorations of it are slow due to the relatively limited potential of human biotics compared to asari. We’re better than them naturally at Kinetics and Spatial Distortion, but we don’t have the lifespan nor the biotic stamina. You have the latter, fortunately enough. Perhaps you’ll be pleased to know that your eezo readings are through the roof, for a human biotic anyway. Humans exposed to the level of eezo you have tend to end up with various forms of cancer.”
Chakwas walked away to one of the neighbouring terminals with the sample, leaving Terrence to wait patiently on the bed for the results and ruminate on the fact he could be on immunosuppressants for maybe the rest of his life. The fact he had more eezo than normal was something he was indifferent to.
Biotics were a life sentence. He’d long known this, and this was the reality he’d have to face.
“Thanks for the info, Major,” he managed some time later, forcing a smile that likely looked like a wince.
A flash of concern crossed Chakwas’ face before she wisely changed the subject.
“When are you going to stop calling me that, Terrence?”
“When I can finally get my head around the fact that you’d be Captain Anderson’s superior if he wasn’t the CO,” he said.
“I knew I shouldn’t have went to Adams’ drink session,” she said. “I’m just a doctor now.”
The terminal’s low hum slowly came to a stop and Chakwas went towards it, staring at the readout with a downward arch to her eyebrows.
“Okay. I have very good and slightly bad news,” she said, a great smile on her face.
Re: MShep/Tarquin Victus Fortuitous 33
anonymous
December 2 2015, 13:24:36 UTC
Terrence sighed in relief. He could deal with slightly bad news; it couldn’t be worse than the very bad news of immunosuppressants for life. The last thing he needed was to catch the flu and drop dead.
“The very good news is that the level of rejection is as low as I’d expected. Inflammatories and antibiotics should be more than enough to deal with it,” Chakwas said. “The slightly bad news is you’ll likely have some difficulties interfacing with ambient fields efficiently due to your unique biotic make-up.”
Chakwas gave him an expectant look. It was almost like she expected him to rush out.
He was curious.
“What do you mean?”
“There’s a reason why biotic camps are called Brain Camp. Most element zero nodules, in humans at least, are concentrated in the brain: particularly in the cerebellum, brain stem, and parietal lobe. Then the rest are scattered around the nervous system, mostly the spine, allowing you to easily channel element zero through your limbs, for example.”
Chakwas paused for a moment.
“You don’t have a roaring appetite like most biotics, do you?”
“Not at all,” he said, rivetted. Finally, answers.
“The reason why humans biotics have to eat so much is that element zero, in solution, provides a large electrical resistance to neural signalling by accumulating in synapse gaps. This makes it so that there is a larger energy requirement to impulses passing from synapse to synapse. With how much energy the brain consumes, compared to the rest of the body, this is particularly energy draining, so human biotics have to eat a lot more to account for that energy sink. There’s a famous equation known as Singh’s resistive delta function that describes the energy increase that element zero nodules induce that I’ll spare you of.”
“But you.. I hope I’m not boring you,” Chakwas said hesitantly. “This is a field I’m quite interested in, particularly with how unique you are.” Terrence shook his head emphatically. He was enthralled.
No one had ever spoken to him about his biotics like this. Explaining all of this to him helped to make his biotics feel more like a part of him than an extension. Perhaps he didn’t understand everything she was saying, but the fact that she was saying it meant the world to him.
“Singh also discovered what’s known as the B&E quantities, or the Brain and Extremities Saturation. For humans, it’s roughly eight to two or nine to one. Eighty and twenty percent, ninety to ten percent, if you prefer it that way. Your files should have included yours, but pretty much everything regarding your biotic capability was redacted. Did you do any tests?”
Terrence nodded his head in the affirmative.
“They put me into a huge MRI machine and had me do some exercises.”
Chakwas nodded in understanding.
“MRI is useful in biotics. Element zero exists purely in solution in the human body and has more grey-scale in the resulting images compared to the water in the soft tissues of the brain.”
Chakwas pulled up a variety of charts she must have taken during the surgery. On the left was a normal eezo mapping, and on the right was his own. It was very clear, upon immediate inspection, he was different. Compared to the average healthy biotic, he had significantly more eezo along his arms and legs, quite a lot more in his spine, and considerably less in his brain.
“You’re roughly six to four - six point three two to three point six eight, to be exact. That’s closer to asari levels who are roughly four to six than anything else, but ultimately, it’s unique.”
Chakwas sounded incredibly fascinated.
“You’ll be an incredibly strong, no.. You’ll be an extremely powerful telekinetic and hand-to-hand biotic once you regain control. Throws and Lifts will be beyond easy for you.”
His childhood explorations with his biotics suddenly made a lot of sense.
Re: MShep/Tarquin Victus Fortuitous 34
anonymous
December 2 2015, 13:25:36 UTC
“I imagine you’ll be able to send a krogan flying into Mach two if you were to exert yourself to the point of self-haemorrhage.”
“I’ll pass on that,” Terrence said with a wince.
“However, Kinetic Fields and Spatial Distortion, particularly Spatial Distortion will be incredibly hard for you, or at least challenging. I don’t think you’ll ever be able to do a good Singularity.”
“What about a Barrier? Is that still possible?” Terrence asked.
“That’s a kinetic field, but it shouldn’t be too hard. It’ll take you a significant time to master compared to a normal biotic.”
“Can you explain why… please?”
Chakwas lit to life in face of his curiosity, quickly opening a freeform drawing program on the terminal.
She drew a horizontal plane on the bottom of the screen with a stylus and several lines perpendicular to the plane. Terrence chuckled when she drew a small stickman in the middle of the field.
She pointed at the stickman.
“This is you, and the lines going downwards are the ambient biotic field. This is the combinations of ambient eezo fields, your own field, and any other biotics in the vicinities fields,” she said, pointing at the vertical lines.
“When you create a kinetic field or a spatial distortion, you are interfacing with this field. The ease with which this is done is down to the number of biotic points of contact between the biotic and the field.”
It clicked rather easily for Terrence.
“And I have more points of contact than the average biotic.”
“Exactly,” Chakwas said, and it was clear that she was pleased with his quick realization.
“Why hasn’t my biotic instructor… Sergeant Dubyansky told me this?”
Chakwas frowned then.
“You should know this, but since you don’t, I’d imagine it’s because it’s above your paygrade and it’s best that you don’t know.”
Terrence was about to angrily refute, his body quickly rising off of the bed to better illustrate his point, that it was his body and his biotics, but Chakwas cut across him. He could see why she’d been a Major now with how despite the pained grimace on her face, her eyes were cold steel.
“Listen, Terrence. Telekinetics is known as the brute force of biotics whilst Kinetics and Spatial Distortion as the more subtler branches. If, say, any, and I mean any, biotic research firm found out that you existed, you’d likely be in a lab for the rest of your life, trying to reproduce your mapping in controlled conditions. With or without your consent. Part of me is surprised that you’re not already in a lab,” she said in a whispered rush. “Telekinetics is the most intuitive of the branches, so if anyone could replicate your eezo mapping, then…”
Re: MShep/Tarquin Victus Fortuitous 35
anonymous
December 2 2015, 13:26:17 UTC
Chakwas gave him a significant look.
“Easily trained army of biotics?”
Chakwas nodded.
“What’s stopping you? The Alliance?” Terrence demanded.
She gave him a sad smile.
“You have a healthy sense of distrust; thrown from one pan-fire into another, huh?” she joked, sounding almost maternal, and Terrence rankled under her sympathetic but largely approving gaze. “I have faith in the Alliance, you should too.. but truthfully, I don’t know.”
Chakwas arched a brow at him in question.
“Would you like to just sit here for a while and think about what I told you?”
He numbly nodded, not even reacting when Chakwas patted his shoulder in apology and left his antibiotics and anti-inflammatories on the bedside table. She returned to her terminal in the medical room, the echoes of her footsteps seemed to be imprinted in his mind as they resounded over and over again without pause.
It was only a month since he’d last seen Tarquin, and he immediately missed him more than he had since their time together. They kept in contact on a daily basis. He’d learnt a little more about him. Like how he and his squad were avid Galaxy of Fantasy players, which oddly explained so much as the image fit rather well. When Terrence had called them a bunch of nerds, he’d refuted that they were a bunch of war and micromanagement nerds. Terrence had laughed, imagining the self-righteous tone Tarquin would take with him. He’d also learnt that his estimation was a little off and Tarquin was a little above average for his species, being nine and a half inches long, rather than ten. He wasn’t surprised to hear he was thicker than average.
He needed to talk to Tarquin in person. There was definitely something powerful in having someone in person to talk to, to confide in, but that was for a later time. For now, he’d content himself with being able to speak to him over several thousands of light years in the privacy of his bunk during the graveyard shift.
Re: MShep/Tarquin Victus Fortuitous 36
anonymous
December 5 2015, 18:06:10 UTC
With greater control, came longer training sessions. Suddenly he was being drilled in using his biotics in conjunction with hand-to-hand and firearms. The former came naturally to him, channeling the blue energy that had alternatively ruined and saved his life through his limbs came intuitively to him. The latter was a lot more difficult. There was a large focus on maintaining a steady aim with a pistol and submachine guns when using his biotics. Everything about that was difficult. Once he thought he’d gotten the knack of something, Dubyansky was pushing him even harder.
Terrence was exhausted. Hands trembling, muscles aching, temples pounding, and sweat pouring off of his near naked form. The implant site of his amp was aflame with dull agony, but he was a soldier, and expected to push through what Dubyansky called a minor inconvenience. He’d taken off his uniform maybe an hour into this training session, having long soaked through it. Dubyansky hadn’t even raised an eyebrow in return, seeming to accept his choice to continue in his military issued briefs with little reaction.
They were approaching the four hour mark, having switched to a reaction time exercise for his biotics twenty minutes ago, and he was near the point of dropping dead. He’d have dropped dead a long time ago if it weren’t for Sergeant Dubyansky’s constant prodding and the fact that Anderson had begun to show a great deal of interest in the sudden surges of progress he was making.
He had something to prove. He deserved to be here.
Terrence watched as Dubyansky turned to a pile of plastic intended for recycling with his omnitool. Using the fabrication module of his omnitool, he shaped it into hundreds of small spheres. Once satisfied, he fed them into a machine embedded in the plexiglass separating them with a simple Lift.
Terrence breathed in… willing his hands to be steady.
It felt like an eternity, the time he spent waiting for the sudden firing of those spheres. When they came, roughly six of them, he was too tired and too fed up to put the effort into deflecting them with just his hands.
His body lit up with an unearthly blue haze as he lazily waved his arm. The spheres went flying back towards the plexiglass, hitting it with sounds reminiscent of raindrops.
“No coronas, Terrence!” Dubyansky yelled, a large frown crossing his harsh features, from behind the plexiglass.
“Alright, alright,” he rasped, fighting the urge to just sit down.
Dubyansky must have decided to take mercy on him as only two spheres came in the next volley.
This time he managed to find the muscle control to quickly parry them both with gentle waves of his hand, making sure to keep the field localized only in front of his palm.
So it continued, Terrence occasionally screwing up and being a ‘biotic brute’ as Dubyansky chidingly called him.
Whilst Dubyansky packed up, tinkering with the training room’s settings to descend the plexiglass into the floor and moving the rest of the equipment to the side, Terrence just dropped to the floor and laid there, spread-eagle.
A bottle of water landed on his stomach, sending a wheezing gasp out of him. He looked up, screaming inside at the act of moving, giving an accusing glare at Dubyansky who was slowly approaching him.
“You did good, kid. I’m really pleased with your progress,” Dubyansky said.
Re: MShep/Tarquin Victus Fortuitous 37
anonymous
December 5 2015, 18:06:42 UTC
Terrence frowned. Being called kid didn’t bother him anymore, it was the progress part. It didn’t seem like he’d made enough if he was still working on his Telekinetics, three months after being on the Citadel, if he was meant to be some kind of prodigy in that field.
“Chin up. I’m not sugar-coating anything,” Dubyansky assured. The mountain of a man squatted beside him, offering him an energy bar he took with heartfelt thanks.
“We finished all those large scale Telekinetic techniques in a week; you should be proud.”
Terrence managed to muster a weak smile. Shockwaves, Smashes, Slams and Novas. All he’d learnt, to Dubyansky’s exacting standards, within a week. It hadn’t felt like much of an achievement at the time due to how easy it had been.
“Yeah…” He sighed, an expression of both his sheer exhaustion and frustration. If this was meant to be his strength, his de facto strong area, then how long would it take him to learn other techniques that weren’t Telekinetics? Techniques like Barrier? Warp?
“Speak your mind, kid.”
He bit into the energy bar, so used to its taste that he didn’t cringe at the sickly sweet taste.
“It’s just.. I’m meant to be a biotic really good at Telekinetics, right?”
Dubyansky gave a slight nod.
“If I’m taking this long at this… what about the other fields? Kinetic Fields and Spatial Distortion?”
A smile lit up his slightly craggy, grizzled blonde face.
“Is that it? You want to move on?” He asked.
“Kind of?” Terrence wasn’t sure what he wanted.
“Your Telekinetics are fine when looked at in isolation,” Dubyansky offered. “They’re better than most Alliance biotics.”
“There’s a but there,” he mumbled, wolfing down the last of the energy bar.
Dubyansky took the wrapper without a sound. He rose to his feet and stretched his arms.
“You’re inefficient. You throw way too much energy into your techniques, but you get away with it due to the amount of stamina you have. Unfortunately, when we start looking at making you create a Barrier, that lack of energy efficiency and precise control will come to bite you in the ass, kid.”
“Well… fuck,” he lamely said.
Dubyansky chuckled, a gravelly sound that reminded Terrence of the fact his stomach had been rumbling at him for the last hour.
“Do some stretches and go and shower. You stink. I’ll ask Captain Anderson to let you off your duties for the rest of the day. You worked hard, kid.”
Terrence watched him leave the room in silence before proceeding to go through all the stretches and breathing exercises he’d been taught a year ago at the brief boot camp he’d went through. Once finished, he slowly gathered up his uniform, quickly discarding the notion of putting it back on when he felt how damp it was, and slowly limped towards the door.
The showers were right next door to the room he was in, so he wasn’t particularly concerned about being seen. There was also the additional caveat that he wasn’t ashamed of his body.
Nobody saw him as he slipped into the showers, discarding his uniform and issued briefs in the laundry pile outside the room, and settling underneath a shower head, sighing as water hit his aching muscles.
His mind wondered as he began to lather himself with soap. He hadn’t told Tarquin about what Chakwas had told him two months ago, instead choosing to keep their conversations light and friendly. It didn’t take much thinking to come to the conclusion that it’d be safest if Tarquin didn’t know, at least for now. Thinking of Tarquin made him think of other things, reminding him of things like the feeling of his thick fingers inside of him, preparing him to take his dick. Terrence knew that if they’d had enough time, lube or no lube, he would have let Tarquin fuck him.
Re: MShep/Tarquin Victus Fortuitous 38
anonymous
December 5 2015, 18:07:12 UTC
He still had no regrets about what happened between them but it was still confusing to him. During their last shore leave at Arcturus, he’d just wandered the space station, sight-seeing, after declining to go with the rest of the group. They’d given him sly smiles and thumbs-up when they thought he wasn’t looking, assuming he was getting laid, which he had after his walk. He’d taken the opportunity to just look at aliens, to see if they were at all appealing to him. Asari had slowly began to come familiar to him due to how they were the most populous non-human in Alliance space, yet they still did nothing for him. He saw only one turian during his four hour wander, a surly, purple-marked one, who had given him a dirty look when he’d caught him watching him. He also did nothing for him. He’d understand his and Tarquin’s relationship better if he felt physically attracted to turians, but he wasn’t. Sleeping with someone he wasn’t attracted to was something he’d done in the past, but there’d never been such a strong connection. Despite his confusion, he tended to fantasize about Tarquin when he felt pent-up, utilizing the privacy of his cot or the showers to release the tension.
Even now, it was easy to default to his favourite fantasy as of late involving Tarquin. One involving him straddling his legs while Terrence lay prone, slowly easing his fat turian cock in and out of his tight ring. He shuddered, stroking his growing erection with a soundless gasp, as he imagined the intense fullness of Tarquin bottoming out inside him; he’d probably be in his guts. He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes, as he began to immerse himself in the fantasy. Tarquin would be spreading his cheeks wide, ensuring that even the thick base would enter, and the pads of his fingers would dig into his ass as he lazily rode him. The thick ridges on his underside would rub ceaselessly against his prostate, making him groan into the cradle of his hands. Terrence began to stroke himself, slowly and deliberately, matching the pace that the Tarquin in his mind would assume. With all the fluids that Tarquin’s dick produced, it’d get wet and slick very quickly. He’d thrust faster, harder, and it wouldn’t take long for the squelches of his fluids to dominate the sound of the dull slap of his wide hips hitting his muscled ass.
“Shit,” he mumbled. Terrence’s idle hand moved to pinch at his nipples.
Tarquin would eventually move his hands to grip his shoulders for leverage after laying down on top of him, growling lowly at the feeling of his ring constricting around the base of his hilted cock. He’d start thrusting again - fast and shallow, aiming to tease him with the rapid rub of his ridges against his insides. Terrence would plead and groan for more, for him to go deeper, and Tarquin would oblige and pull him onto all fours. However, he wouldn’t oblige without giving a low, rumbling chuckle that would send chills through him.
Then he would really start pounding him. Deep, hard and fast. His hands would grip tightly onto his waist, controlling his ability to match his thrusts. Terrence’s own voice would be drowned out by the loud slaps of their bodies coming together and the wet noises of their coupling. One of Tarquin’s hands would wander beneath him, to his crotch, stroking Terrence’s dick in time with his demanding thrusts. Terrence wouldn’t be able to see it, but he’d be able to imagine the sight of his own length inside Tarquin’s massive hand; the feeling of that rough, leathery triadic hand working along his shaft would give his imagination enough to work with. Then Tarquin would bottom out for the last time, deeper than ever in this position, with a slight tremor running through his hips before he came inside him with a rumbling moan. Even with Tarquin buried deep inside him, hilted to the point they were entirely connected, it would leak down his thighs as his orgasm went on and on.
Re: MShep/Tarquin Victus Fortuitous 39
anonymous
December 5 2015, 18:07:42 UTC
He came with his fist in his mouth to cover up his cry, stroking himself as he spurted all over the shower wall.
“Fuck..”
He quickly left the shower, wrapping a clean towel around his waist and making his way back to the barracks. No one reacted to his presence, long used to the sight of him taking showers outside of the regimented hours.
He settled down in his cot after getting half-dressed with a sigh. With a grunt, he folded the towel and placing it in the small storage space beside him, uncaring that his few possession would get wet..The dull ache in his muscles flared as he opened his omni-tool checking to see if Tarquin had sent him a message. A satisfied smile crossed his face to see that he had.
[16:42 AST] Tarquin Victus: I’d like your opinion on something.
[18:21 AST] Terrence Shepard: Go ahead.
It took Tarquin a while to respond, time that he ended up spending in a doze. His omni-tool chimed, startling him from his sleep. Looking around, it seemed he was missing dinner by the dull roar he could hear from the mess.
[19:02 AST] Tarquin Victus: I have the opportunity to be evaluated for command training in a couple of weeks. What do you think?
Shepard yawned, lowering the brightness of the messenger app, and gave the question some thought.
[19:04 AST] Terrence Shepard: That depends. Is this what Tarquin Victus wants or what the son of General Adrien Victus wants?
Terrence had gradually come to learn more about what Tarquin’s father meant to him: how he was something of a father to his men, something of a modern day warrior king. He was able to read the pride in Tarquin’s words as he told him how his father was a tactical genius whose tendency for the clever and sneaky both reviled and impressed the primarchs who were his superiors.
[19:05 AST] Tarquin Victus: I’m pretty sure I want to do this.
Terrence thought it was time that he said something he should have said long ago.
[19:08 AST] Terrence Shepard: As long as you find your focus, and don’t pretend to be a clone of your father, go for it. Your father’s way isn’t the only way to be a great leader. My commanding officer, Captain Anderson, isn’t a tactical prodigy like your father is. He’s good, but not that good. What he’s done instead is to surround himself with talented people; people who can cover his weaknesses and bolster his own strengths. As a result of this, he can keep a very hands-off approach and ensure that things run smoothly and everyone is content. It’s not always about tactical flair, authoritative demeanours and powerful rhetoric. Find your niche, Tarquin. Perhaps you’re not as skilled at tactics as he is. I’m fairly sure you have a unique combination of skills that will allow you to live up to outside expectations.
Re: MShep/Tarquin Victus Fortuitous 40
anonymous
December 5 2015, 18:08:12 UTC
[19:11 AST] Tarquin Victus: What if I don’t know what my strengths are?
[19:12 AST] Terrence Shepard: I imagine you’ll find those out in your command training then. Your life isn’t defined at your birth, Tarquin.
[19:15 AST] Tarquin Victus: You’ve given me a lot to think about. Thanks.
[19:17 AST] Terrence Shepard: It’s alright. How’s your leg?
Tarquin had had a mission two days ago, an incursion with turian separatists on a backwater colony. He’d been shot in the lower thigh. Terrence hadn’t worried, he’d long known that Tarquin was made of sterner stuff than most. He couldn’t help but wonder when he himself would first enter combat; he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that happening.
[19:18 AST] Tarquin Victus: It’s good. I had a short physio session an hour ago and was given the all clear.
[19:19 AST] Terrence Shepard: I’m glad to hear it.
[19:21 AST] Tarquin Victus: Seen combat yet?
Terrence smiled. This was a frequent question from him.
[19:21 AST] Terrence Shepard: Not yet. I’m kind of nervous about it.
[19:22 AST] Tarquin Victus: About your biotics?
[19:22 AST] Terrence Shepard. Nah. I can control those now. I don’t know really, maybe it’s the fact that it will really hit the point that I’m military now. It’s still surreal.
[19:23 AST] Tarquin Victus: You’ll get used to it; it’s not as bad as you’d think.
If there was something that Terrence could appreciate, it was a turian’s tendency to directness. None of that namby-pamby bullshit that some humans would resort to.
He yawned.
[19:24 AST] Terrence Shepard: I hate to cut this short, but I need to get some rest. I’ll message you tomorrow when I’m free and you can show me that squad shooter you’ve been trying to get me to play.
[19:25 AST] Tarquin Victus: It’s called Operation: Titans of Palaven. You’ll like it. Trust me.
Terrence shook his head in amusement before deactivating his omnitool and catching some much needed sleep.
Re: MShep/Tarquin Victus Fortuitous 40
anonymous
December 7 2015, 21:29:10 UTC
It is interesting to get to see some biotic training, and the alien people watching as well. And the continuing theme of them trying out each others video games is entertaining. Getting into a characters head is something I find enjoyable. As to your question above as to what I thought of the smut, I did enjoy the fooling around and the curiosity and weird factor you had going on. It is good when sexy times with an alien is well, 'alien' for both of them. I do also appreciate the bits of cuddle time, it emphasizes this as more of an emotional attachment than just purely lust. Also the fact that if you haven't had anything in your butt in a while, it actually takes time to stretch. The fact that two turian fingers was enough to burn, it is nice to see people pay attention to what the human body can actually do when they are writing smut.
As Terrence slowly trailed his fingers, falling back to his old experience with women and treating the opening a little like a pussy. When his tongue licked across the opening, streaking across the emerging head of Tarquin’s cock, the finger that had been in his mouth pressed against his hole, testing.
Terrence took satisfaction in Tarquin’s low growling moans, relieved that he was actually enjoying this, and took the tapered head of Tarquin’s dick into his mouth as the shaft began to extend behind it. He groaned around the musky sweet taste of his flesh as the finger finally began to sink inside of him. It’d been too long since he’d been with a guy.
A faint pressure descended on his head as Tarquin’s other hand fell on top of his head, gently cradling it as his finger began to move further into his hole. Terrence complimented his motion by taking a bit more of his cock into his mouth, cataloguing the textures as his tongue moved along the thickly ridged underside to the more lightly ridged top with its bulging veins. The idea of those ridges in his ass, rubbing against his prostate, and they would with how thick Tarquin was, made him squeeze in desire around Tarquin’s first knuckle which had been slowly coaxed through his sphincter. Tarquin’s cock was still gross, but the good kind of gross. Privately, Terrence thought its quasi-skinless appearance belonged on an animal, but that could be his human bias showing. For all he knew, other alien races kept all their junk internally too.
“Did you just squeeze me?” When Terrence slurped an affirmative around his thick piece, he began to slowly move his finger in and out.
“You’re so tight and hot in here. Spirits… do you think you can really take me?”
Terrence lifted off of Tarquin, and began to idly stroke him.
“Definitely. Curl your finger a little towards my dick,” Terrence said.
When Tarquin’s finger brushed against his prostate, the only thing holding him up, against the jolt that rushed through him, was Tarquin’s cock.
“There. That’s what makes this feel so good for human males,” Terrence said. “Prostate, Tarquin. Tarquin, prostate.”
Tarquin chuckled, and when had his laugh become so fucking hot? It was like a rolling heat setting him alight.
Terrence realized that it could be Tarquin simply pressing against his prostate with every gentle corkscrew of his finger.
“Anyway, I will take all of you. Every inch,” he promised, taking a long lick of the tall staff before him. He gave a light squeeze of the base, provoking Tarquin to growl at him. Somehow, it didn’t scare him. If anything, it made him more interested in continuing.
“I’ll make sure of it. I won’t let you nut inside me until I feel this,” he squeezed the base again, “inside me.”
“I want that too,” Tarquin said. He began to buck his hips up, and Terrence sank back down his shaft, suckling on the cock thrusting gently into his mouth.
“You’ll message me when you get leave? You have my omnitool ID. I’ll try and coordinate so mine is at the same time.”
Terrence managed to nod an affirmative as Tarquin began to repeatedly hit the entrance to his throat. It was difficult not to gag.
“I won’t be able to get off for at least another six to nine months, so it’ll be a little while.”
“Stop for a second.”
Tarquin pulled his finger out of him, slowly, and presented him with his untouched middle finger.
“Get this wet please.”
A thrill of excitement went through Terrence at the idea of both his fingers inside him.
Once his finger was sufficiently wet, he removed it, and Terrence began to distract himself by running his tongue along the veins of his cock.
Tarquin slowly eased his finger back inside about halfway to the previous depth, hissing moans escaping him as he did so at the feeling of Terrence’s mouth. He then began to gently push his second finger in, and it sank in with a burn. Terrence felt stuffed at both ends.
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“I believe you now. You can definitely take me. If only we had more time…”
With those words, they were both reminded by how little time they had left and both began to speed up. Tarquin’s hand moved from his head and rifled underneath him until he found Terrence’s cock, rock hard and dripping on the mattress and began to stroke him.
Terrence briefly lifted up to inform he was going to swallow, purely to see what he tasted like, and Tarquin began to stroke him with a vengeance.
One thing that Terrence could take from this experience, was that turians came a lot and made a shit ton of noise. It was a struggle to contain all the spurts of bittersweet cum in his mouth, and he’d wanted to, even whilst he shook as he came into Tarquin’s hand. Unfortunately, it ended up spilling out of his mouth, down the shaft and onto his base and crotch. Terrence mused to himself as he licked it all up with relish, that if there was one area where turians beat humans, outside of size, it was in the taste of their cum. He’d give them that.
“You taste pretty good,” he said, turning to lick his swollen lips of any remaining residue or cum at Tarquin. Tarquin’s fingers were still buried in his ass, so the resulting full body shudder Tarquin gave was also felt in his ass.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at a human’s lips the same way ever again,” he said breathlessly.
Terrence idly licked Tarquin’s cock clean for some time before checking his omnitool. 6:02.
“I need to shower. Want to share?” Terrence asked. Tarquin lead the way, lifting him in bridal style and ignoring his demands to put him down. Neither of them commented on the fingers still inside of him.
Their shower was rather chaste. There was some appreciation of each other’s bodies, with Terrence marvelling at his powerful thighs and abdomen and Tarquin idly exploring his muscled chest before falling back to gripping his muscular ass. The anticipation was palpable, but they focussed on getting clean and out. As they dried themselves, with his sharp eyes, Tarquin noticed the very slight discoloration on his right shoulder from the tattoo he used to have.
“I used to have a tattoo of The Reds on my shoulder. Tattoos, let alone gang signs, are against Alliance regs. It had to go, so they paid for me to get it removed by laser.”
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They dressed in silence, and suddenly the mood was somewhat sombre.
“This is goodbye for now, I guess?” Terrence asked. Suddenly all the comfort and ease built seemed to shatter.
“We still have whales to get and England to conquer,” Tarquin said, raising a brow ridge in amusement. “I’m going to keep in touch with my only human friend.”
“Of course,” Terrence said, smacking his head in mock reprimand, “how can we forget Queen ‘twenty six galleasses’ Elizabeth. Forgive me, Tarquin.”
Again, like yesterday, he made his voice low and gravelly, a mimicry of his father.
“You are forgiven, my friend.”
They both laughed a little, the mood easing slightly.
“I.. I just want to thank you for everything. For listening. For the intimacy. For well.. just being you,” Terrence said, summoning every ounce of sincerity he could muster.
A flush of blue emerged on Tarquin’s neck.
“There’s no need, but you’re welcome,” Tarquin said. “Want me to come with you to the docks?”
Terrence shook his head in the negative.
“Sorry, but I want to do this alone. I just want to… stand on my own two feet? Not flinch and duck around non-humans or use you as a shield. I’m tired of being a coward.”
Being Tarquin, it seemed only natural that he’d understand. His mandibles flared in a smile.
“You’re a better, stronger person than you think you are, Terrence. I imagine you’ll show the Alliance that too.”
They exchanged salutes. Tarquin placing his hand on Terrence’s shoulder before placing a fist against his own chest, and Terrence simply placing his hand to his temple.
Terrence could only marvel at how strange it felt to be believed in as he walked out of the hotel room, head held high, feeling like the galaxy was his oyster.
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Terrence couldn’t help but think of what happened at breakfast, a week after shore leave on the Citadel.
“It seems you’ve finally removed the stick up your ass, Shepard,” Flight Lieutenant Moreau had said to him in the mess, having quickly noticed the neutral expression he’d adopted since the day after he’d returned from the Citadel.
“At least I don’t require assistance to shove something up my ass, Flight Lieutenant,” Terrence had joked back, where before he’d simply grunt or sneer at Moreau. They were the youngest onboard the ship - both being prodigies, except Moreau had more than exceeded expectations of him, whilst he’d floundered. Terrence had hated him for a time. If Moreau was the crown jewel of the ship (and he was a really fucking good pilot, even he couldn’t deny that), then he was the grumpy hermit that everyone was indifferent or borderline hostile towards.
Moreau’s customary smile faltered a second, and Terrence was about to apologize, when Moreau and one of the nearby engineers on Chief Engineer Adams’ table had roared with laughter.
“He got you good, Joker,” Chief Engineer Adams had said between a sip of his coffee.
“Oh he did, he really did,” Joker had said, a wide grin turning up the slowly growing facial hair on his lip. “Whoever you got laid with, Shepard, please go and visit them every shore leave. You’re almost a normal person now!”
He didn’t bother to deny it. Even he knew, with how little he’d interacted with the crew, that if someone came aboard just before the ship became aweigh, they’d either came from important business or had gotten some the night before. Usually the latter.
“Will do, Flight Lieutenant,” Shepard had said, taking a break from dipping a slice of bread in his mystery soup to give a mock salute.
“Pssh... “ Joker had waved his hands in dismissal. “Call me Jeff, or Joker. I prefer Joker,” Joker had said, offering his hand in a truce? Friendship?
Terrence took it in his own.
“Nice firm handshake, man. No squeezing too,” Joker had said, tilting his head at him with a smile. “Taking pity on a little ol’ cripple like me?”
Terrence had almost spluttered in denial, incredibly self-conscious as everyone was watching now. Even Anderson from his spot at the canteen was watching from where he’d been speaking intently to the cook, Corporal Chase, he now knew his name to be.
“Should I have squeezed your hand to establish dominance or some shit?” Terrence had shook his head. “This is the military, not a boxing ring.”
Joker had tutted in disapproval.
“That’s how the pecking order in this place works, Shepard. You squeeze hard enough and you get promoted,” Joker had said. “How do you think I became a Flight Lieutenant at the age of twenty?”
Terrence had hummed under his breath in consideration before offering his right hand, a faint haze of blue enveloping it.
“Wanna try again? I’ll try not to shatter bones.”
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“Sorry, I don’t want to find out if you’ve got full control of your space magic voodoo just yet. When I become an Admiral with my palms of steel, I’ll let everyone know that you deserve a promotion,” Joker had said.
“You’re not bad, Shepard,” he had said before wheeling himself back to his table, or more likely the cockpit.
The dull roar of chinking cutlery and conversation had re-engulfed the mess as he left.
Joker had been like the litmus test. Slowly, people started to involve him in their free time aboard the Tokyo.
Chief Engineer Adams had started inviting him to the drinking parties that he hosted on the lower decks. It had been a complete shock to find out that Chakwas, on the one time she’d been wrestled away from her work, could drink them all under the table. Sometimes, Pressly even said hello to him in the corridors.
The prick of a needle against the nape of his neck woke him from his recollections.
Terrence let out a slight hiss.
Chakwas wiped the area around his newly fitted amp with an antiseptic wipe. The surgery had been done whilst he’d been awake with local anaesthetic, but now that it had begun to wore off, it was starting to sting like hell. Was the entire back of his head meant to ache?
“I’m just taking a quick biopsy to ensure that everything is healthy.”
She placed the tissue and blood sample in a tube on the table next to them before carefully examining the nape of his neck.
“From a purely visual examination, it’s clear there’s some minor irritation,” minor? “due to rejection at the implant site from the surrounding tissues. I’ll give you some antibiotics and some anti-inflammatories to reduce the swelling.”
She continued speaking.
“If those fail to work, we can put you on a program of immunosuppressants until we can find an amp more compatible with you.”
Terrence suddenly had vivid images of apocalyptic scenes where he’d been the source of a mutated version of a disease that had decimated the galaxy. Kill the immunosuppressed! an incredibly sickly asari wheezed in his mind.
Terrence shook his head in an attempt to escape his overactive imagination.
“And how long will that take, Major?”
Chakwas gave a wry smile.
“Could be decades. Progress with biotic amps is proving slow as the asari and salarians are proving to be very cagey with the exact biophysics surrounding biotics. Our own explorations of it are slow due to the relatively limited potential of human biotics compared to asari. We’re better than them naturally at Kinetics and Spatial Distortion, but we don’t have the lifespan nor the biotic stamina. You have the latter, fortunately enough. Perhaps you’ll be pleased to know that your eezo readings are through the roof, for a human biotic anyway. Humans exposed to the level of eezo you have tend to end up with various forms of cancer.”
Chakwas walked away to one of the neighbouring terminals with the sample, leaving Terrence to wait patiently on the bed for the results and ruminate on the fact he could be on immunosuppressants for maybe the rest of his life. The fact he had more eezo than normal was something he was indifferent to.
Biotics were a life sentence. He’d long known this, and this was the reality he’d have to face.
“Thanks for the info, Major,” he managed some time later, forcing a smile that likely looked like a wince.
A flash of concern crossed Chakwas’ face before she wisely changed the subject.
“When are you going to stop calling me that, Terrence?”
“When I can finally get my head around the fact that you’d be Captain Anderson’s superior if he wasn’t the CO,” he said.
“I knew I shouldn’t have went to Adams’ drink session,” she said. “I’m just a doctor now.”
The terminal’s low hum slowly came to a stop and Chakwas went towards it, staring at the readout with a downward arch to her eyebrows.
“Okay. I have very good and slightly bad news,” she said, a great smile on her face.
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“The very good news is that the level of rejection is as low as I’d expected. Inflammatories and antibiotics should be more than enough to deal with it,” Chakwas said. “The slightly bad news is you’ll likely have some difficulties interfacing with ambient fields efficiently due to your unique biotic make-up.”
Chakwas gave him an expectant look. It was almost like she expected him to rush out.
He was curious.
“What do you mean?”
“There’s a reason why biotic camps are called Brain Camp. Most element zero nodules, in humans at least, are concentrated in the brain: particularly in the cerebellum, brain stem, and parietal lobe. Then the rest are scattered around the nervous system, mostly the spine, allowing you to easily channel element zero through your limbs, for example.”
Chakwas paused for a moment.
“You don’t have a roaring appetite like most biotics, do you?”
“Not at all,” he said, rivetted. Finally, answers.
“The reason why humans biotics have to eat so much is that element zero, in solution, provides a large electrical resistance to neural signalling by accumulating in synapse gaps. This makes it so that there is a larger energy requirement to impulses passing from synapse to synapse. With how much energy the brain consumes, compared to the rest of the body, this is particularly energy draining, so human biotics have to eat a lot more to account for that energy sink. There’s a famous equation known as Singh’s resistive delta function that describes the energy increase that element zero nodules induce that I’ll spare you of.”
“But you.. I hope I’m not boring you,” Chakwas said hesitantly. “This is a field I’m quite interested in, particularly with how unique you are.” Terrence shook his head emphatically. He was enthralled.
No one had ever spoken to him about his biotics like this. Explaining all of this to him helped to make his biotics feel more like a part of him than an extension. Perhaps he didn’t understand everything she was saying, but the fact that she was saying it meant the world to him.
“Singh also discovered what’s known as the B&E quantities, or the Brain and Extremities Saturation. For humans, it’s roughly eight to two or nine to one. Eighty and twenty percent, ninety to ten percent, if you prefer it that way. Your files should have included yours, but pretty much everything regarding your biotic capability was redacted. Did you do any tests?”
Terrence nodded his head in the affirmative.
“They put me into a huge MRI machine and had me do some exercises.”
Chakwas nodded in understanding.
“MRI is useful in biotics. Element zero exists purely in solution in the human body and has more grey-scale in the resulting images compared to the water in the soft tissues of the brain.”
Chakwas pulled up a variety of charts she must have taken during the surgery. On the left was a normal eezo mapping, and on the right was his own. It was very clear, upon immediate inspection, he was different. Compared to the average healthy biotic, he had significantly more eezo along his arms and legs, quite a lot more in his spine, and considerably less in his brain.
“You’re roughly six to four - six point three two to three point six eight, to be exact. That’s closer to asari levels who are roughly four to six than anything else, but ultimately, it’s unique.”
Chakwas sounded incredibly fascinated.
“You’ll be an incredibly strong, no.. You’ll be an extremely powerful telekinetic and hand-to-hand biotic once you regain control. Throws and Lifts will be beyond easy for you.”
His childhood explorations with his biotics suddenly made a lot of sense.
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“I’ll pass on that,” Terrence said with a wince.
“However, Kinetic Fields and Spatial Distortion, particularly Spatial Distortion will be incredibly hard for you, or at least challenging. I don’t think you’ll ever be able to do a good Singularity.”
“What about a Barrier? Is that still possible?” Terrence asked.
“That’s a kinetic field, but it shouldn’t be too hard. It’ll take you a significant time to master compared to a normal biotic.”
“Can you explain why… please?”
Chakwas lit to life in face of his curiosity, quickly opening a freeform drawing program on the terminal.
She drew a horizontal plane on the bottom of the screen with a stylus and several lines perpendicular to the plane. Terrence chuckled when she drew a small stickman in the middle of the field.
She pointed at the stickman.
“This is you, and the lines going downwards are the ambient biotic field. This is the combinations of ambient eezo fields, your own field, and any other biotics in the vicinities fields,” she said, pointing at the vertical lines.
“When you create a kinetic field or a spatial distortion, you are interfacing with this field. The ease with which this is done is down to the number of biotic points of contact between the biotic and the field.”
It clicked rather easily for Terrence.
“And I have more points of contact than the average biotic.”
“Exactly,” Chakwas said, and it was clear that she was pleased with his quick realization.
“Why hasn’t my biotic instructor… Sergeant Dubyansky told me this?”
Chakwas frowned then.
“You should know this, but since you don’t, I’d imagine it’s because it’s above your paygrade and it’s best that you don’t know.”
Terrence was about to angrily refute, his body quickly rising off of the bed to better illustrate his point, that it was his body and his biotics, but Chakwas cut across him. He could see why she’d been a Major now with how despite the pained grimace on her face, her eyes were cold steel.
“Listen, Terrence. Telekinetics is known as the brute force of biotics whilst Kinetics and Spatial Distortion as the more subtler branches. If, say, any, and I mean any, biotic research firm found out that you existed, you’d likely be in a lab for the rest of your life, trying to reproduce your mapping in controlled conditions. With or without your consent. Part of me is surprised that you’re not already in a lab,” she said in a whispered rush. “Telekinetics is the most intuitive of the branches, so if anyone could replicate your eezo mapping, then…”
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“Easily trained army of biotics?”
Chakwas nodded.
“What’s stopping you? The Alliance?” Terrence demanded.
She gave him a sad smile.
“You have a healthy sense of distrust; thrown from one pan-fire into another, huh?” she joked, sounding almost maternal, and Terrence rankled under her sympathetic but largely approving gaze. “I have faith in the Alliance, you should too.. but truthfully, I don’t know.”
Chakwas arched a brow at him in question.
“Would you like to just sit here for a while and think about what I told you?”
He numbly nodded, not even reacting when Chakwas patted his shoulder in apology and left his antibiotics and anti-inflammatories on the bedside table. She returned to her terminal in the medical room, the echoes of her footsteps seemed to be imprinted in his mind as they resounded over and over again without pause.
It was only a month since he’d last seen Tarquin, and he immediately missed him more than he had since their time together. They kept in contact on a daily basis. He’d learnt a little more about him. Like how he and his squad were avid Galaxy of Fantasy players, which oddly explained so much as the image fit rather well. When Terrence had called them a bunch of nerds, he’d refuted that they were a bunch of war and micromanagement nerds. Terrence had laughed, imagining the self-righteous tone Tarquin would take with him. He’d also learnt that his estimation was a little off and Tarquin was a little above average for his species, being nine and a half inches long, rather than ten. He wasn’t surprised to hear he was thicker than average.
He needed to talk to Tarquin in person. There was definitely something powerful in having someone in person to talk to, to confide in, but that was for a later time. For now, he’d content himself with being able to speak to him over several thousands of light years in the privacy of his bunk during the graveyard shift.
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Terrence was exhausted. Hands trembling, muscles aching, temples pounding, and sweat pouring off of his near naked form. The implant site of his amp was aflame with dull agony, but he was a soldier, and expected to push through what Dubyansky called a minor inconvenience. He’d taken off his uniform maybe an hour into this training session, having long soaked through it. Dubyansky hadn’t even raised an eyebrow in return, seeming to accept his choice to continue in his military issued briefs with little reaction.
They were approaching the four hour mark, having switched to a reaction time exercise for his biotics twenty minutes ago, and he was near the point of dropping dead. He’d have dropped dead a long time ago if it weren’t for Sergeant Dubyansky’s constant prodding and the fact that Anderson had begun to show a great deal of interest in the sudden surges of progress he was making.
He had something to prove. He deserved to be here.
Terrence watched as Dubyansky turned to a pile of plastic intended for recycling with his omnitool. Using the fabrication module of his omnitool, he shaped it into hundreds of small spheres. Once satisfied, he fed them into a machine embedded in the plexiglass separating them with a simple Lift.
Terrence breathed in… willing his hands to be steady.
It felt like an eternity, the time he spent waiting for the sudden firing of those spheres. When they came, roughly six of them, he was too tired and too fed up to put the effort into deflecting them with just his hands.
His body lit up with an unearthly blue haze as he lazily waved his arm. The spheres went flying back towards the plexiglass, hitting it with sounds reminiscent of raindrops.
“No coronas, Terrence!” Dubyansky yelled, a large frown crossing his harsh features, from behind the plexiglass.
“Alright, alright,” he rasped, fighting the urge to just sit down.
Dubyansky must have decided to take mercy on him as only two spheres came in the next volley.
This time he managed to find the muscle control to quickly parry them both with gentle waves of his hand, making sure to keep the field localized only in front of his palm.
So it continued, Terrence occasionally screwing up and being a ‘biotic brute’ as Dubyansky chidingly called him.
Whilst Dubyansky packed up, tinkering with the training room’s settings to descend the plexiglass into the floor and moving the rest of the equipment to the side, Terrence just dropped to the floor and laid there, spread-eagle.
A bottle of water landed on his stomach, sending a wheezing gasp out of him. He looked up, screaming inside at the act of moving, giving an accusing glare at Dubyansky who was slowly approaching him.
“You did good, kid. I’m really pleased with your progress,” Dubyansky said.
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“Chin up. I’m not sugar-coating anything,” Dubyansky assured. The mountain of a man squatted beside him, offering him an energy bar he took with heartfelt thanks.
“We finished all those large scale Telekinetic techniques in a week; you should be proud.”
Terrence managed to muster a weak smile. Shockwaves, Smashes, Slams and Novas. All he’d learnt, to Dubyansky’s exacting standards, within a week. It hadn’t felt like much of an achievement at the time due to how easy it had been.
“Yeah…” He sighed, an expression of both his sheer exhaustion and frustration. If this was meant to be his strength, his de facto strong area, then how long would it take him to learn other techniques that weren’t Telekinetics? Techniques like Barrier? Warp?
“Speak your mind, kid.”
He bit into the energy bar, so used to its taste that he didn’t cringe at the sickly sweet taste.
“It’s just.. I’m meant to be a biotic really good at Telekinetics, right?”
Dubyansky gave a slight nod.
“If I’m taking this long at this… what about the other fields? Kinetic Fields and Spatial Distortion?”
A smile lit up his slightly craggy, grizzled blonde face.
“Is that it? You want to move on?” He asked.
“Kind of?” Terrence wasn’t sure what he wanted.
“Your Telekinetics are fine when looked at in isolation,” Dubyansky offered. “They’re better than most Alliance biotics.”
“There’s a but there,” he mumbled, wolfing down the last of the energy bar.
Dubyansky took the wrapper without a sound. He rose to his feet and stretched his arms.
“You’re inefficient. You throw way too much energy into your techniques, but you get away with it due to the amount of stamina you have. Unfortunately, when we start looking at making you create a Barrier, that lack of energy efficiency and precise control will come to bite you in the ass, kid.”
“Well… fuck,” he lamely said.
Dubyansky chuckled, a gravelly sound that reminded Terrence of the fact his stomach had been rumbling at him for the last hour.
“Do some stretches and go and shower. You stink. I’ll ask Captain Anderson to let you off your duties for the rest of the day. You worked hard, kid.”
Terrence watched him leave the room in silence before proceeding to go through all the stretches and breathing exercises he’d been taught a year ago at the brief boot camp he’d went through. Once finished, he slowly gathered up his uniform, quickly discarding the notion of putting it back on when he felt how damp it was, and slowly limped towards the door.
The showers were right next door to the room he was in, so he wasn’t particularly concerned about being seen. There was also the additional caveat that he wasn’t ashamed of his body.
Nobody saw him as he slipped into the showers, discarding his uniform and issued briefs in the laundry pile outside the room, and settling underneath a shower head, sighing as water hit his aching muscles.
His mind wondered as he began to lather himself with soap. He hadn’t told Tarquin about what Chakwas had told him two months ago, instead choosing to keep their conversations light and friendly. It didn’t take much thinking to come to the conclusion that it’d be safest if Tarquin didn’t know, at least for now. Thinking of Tarquin made him think of other things, reminding him of things like the feeling of his thick fingers inside of him, preparing him to take his dick. Terrence knew that if they’d had enough time, lube or no lube, he would have let Tarquin fuck him.
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Even now, it was easy to default to his favourite fantasy as of late involving Tarquin. One involving him straddling his legs while Terrence lay prone, slowly easing his fat turian cock in and out of his tight ring. He shuddered, stroking his growing erection with a soundless gasp, as he imagined the intense fullness of Tarquin bottoming out inside him; he’d probably be in his guts. He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes, as he began to immerse himself in the fantasy. Tarquin would be spreading his cheeks wide, ensuring that even the thick base would enter, and the pads of his fingers would dig into his ass as he lazily rode him. The thick ridges on his underside would rub ceaselessly against his prostate, making him groan into the cradle of his hands. Terrence began to stroke himself, slowly and deliberately, matching the pace that the Tarquin in his mind would assume. With all the fluids that Tarquin’s dick produced, it’d get wet and slick very quickly. He’d thrust faster, harder, and it wouldn’t take long for the squelches of his fluids to dominate the sound of the dull slap of his wide hips hitting his muscled ass.
“Shit,” he mumbled. Terrence’s idle hand moved to pinch at his nipples.
Tarquin would eventually move his hands to grip his shoulders for leverage after laying down on top of him, growling lowly at the feeling of his ring constricting around the base of his hilted cock. He’d start thrusting again - fast and shallow, aiming to tease him with the rapid rub of his ridges against his insides. Terrence would plead and groan for more, for him to go deeper, and Tarquin would oblige and pull him onto all fours. However, he wouldn’t oblige without giving a low, rumbling chuckle that would send chills through him.
Then he would really start pounding him. Deep, hard and fast. His hands would grip tightly onto his waist, controlling his ability to match his thrusts. Terrence’s own voice would be drowned out by the loud slaps of their bodies coming together and the wet noises of their coupling. One of Tarquin’s hands would wander beneath him, to his crotch, stroking Terrence’s dick in time with his demanding thrusts. Terrence wouldn’t be able to see it, but he’d be able to imagine the sight of his own length inside Tarquin’s massive hand; the feeling of that rough, leathery triadic hand working along his shaft would give his imagination enough to work with. Then Tarquin would bottom out for the last time, deeper than ever in this position, with a slight tremor running through his hips before he came inside him with a rumbling moan. Even with Tarquin buried deep inside him, hilted to the point they were entirely connected, it would leak down his thighs as his orgasm went on and on.
It was enough.
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“Fuck..”
He quickly left the shower, wrapping a clean towel around his waist and making his way back to the barracks. No one reacted to his presence, long used to the sight of him taking showers outside of the regimented hours.
He settled down in his cot after getting half-dressed with a sigh. With a grunt, he folded the towel and placing it in the small storage space beside him, uncaring that his few possession would get wet..The dull ache in his muscles flared as he opened his omni-tool checking to see if Tarquin had sent him a message. A satisfied smile crossed his face to see that he had.
[16:42 AST] Tarquin Victus: I’d like your opinion on something.
[18:21 AST] Terrence Shepard: Go ahead.
It took Tarquin a while to respond, time that he ended up spending in a doze. His omni-tool chimed, startling him from his sleep. Looking around, it seemed he was missing dinner by the dull roar he could hear from the mess.
[19:02 AST] Tarquin Victus: I have the opportunity to be evaluated for command training in a couple of weeks. What do you think?
Shepard yawned, lowering the brightness of the messenger app, and gave the question some thought.
[19:04 AST] Terrence Shepard: That depends. Is this what Tarquin Victus wants or what the son of General Adrien Victus wants?
Terrence had gradually come to learn more about what Tarquin’s father meant to him: how he was something of a father to his men, something of a modern day warrior king. He was able to read the pride in Tarquin’s words as he told him how his father was a tactical genius whose tendency for the clever and sneaky both reviled and impressed the primarchs who were his superiors.
[19:05 AST] Tarquin Victus: I’m pretty sure I want to do this.
Terrence thought it was time that he said something he should have said long ago.
[19:08 AST] Terrence Shepard: As long as you find your focus, and don’t pretend to be a clone of your father, go for it. Your father’s way isn’t the only way to be a great leader. My commanding officer, Captain Anderson, isn’t a tactical prodigy like your father is. He’s good, but not that good. What he’s done instead is to surround himself with talented people; people who can cover his weaknesses and bolster his own strengths. As a result of this, he can keep a very hands-off approach and ensure that things run smoothly and everyone is content. It’s not always about tactical flair, authoritative demeanours and powerful rhetoric. Find your niche, Tarquin. Perhaps you’re not as skilled at tactics as he is. I’m fairly sure you have a unique combination of skills that will allow you to live up to outside expectations.
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[19:12 AST] Terrence Shepard: I imagine you’ll find those out in your command training then. Your life isn’t defined at your birth, Tarquin.
[19:15 AST] Tarquin Victus: You’ve given me a lot to think about. Thanks.
[19:17 AST] Terrence Shepard: It’s alright. How’s your leg?
Tarquin had had a mission two days ago, an incursion with turian separatists on a backwater colony. He’d been shot in the lower thigh. Terrence hadn’t worried, he’d long known that Tarquin was made of sterner stuff than most. He couldn’t help but wonder when he himself would first enter combat; he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that happening.
[19:18 AST] Tarquin Victus: It’s good. I had a short physio session an hour ago and was given the all clear.
[19:19 AST] Terrence Shepard: I’m glad to hear it.
[19:21 AST] Tarquin Victus: Seen combat yet?
Terrence smiled. This was a frequent question from him.
[19:21 AST] Terrence Shepard: Not yet. I’m kind of nervous about it.
[19:22 AST] Tarquin Victus: About your biotics?
[19:22 AST] Terrence Shepard. Nah. I can control those now. I don’t know really, maybe it’s the fact that it will really hit the point that I’m military now. It’s still surreal.
[19:23 AST] Tarquin Victus: You’ll get used to it; it’s not as bad as you’d think.
If there was something that Terrence could appreciate, it was a turian’s tendency to directness. None of that namby-pamby bullshit that some humans would resort to.
He yawned.
[19:24 AST] Terrence Shepard: I hate to cut this short, but I need to get some rest. I’ll message you tomorrow when I’m free and you can show me that squad shooter you’ve been trying to get me to play.
[19:25 AST] Tarquin Victus: It’s called Operation: Titans of Palaven. You’ll like it. Trust me.
Terrence shook his head in amusement before deactivating his omnitool and catching some much needed sleep.
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As to your question above as to what I thought of the smut, I did enjoy the fooling around and the curiosity and weird factor you had going on. It is good when sexy times with an alien is well, 'alien' for both of them. I do also appreciate the bits of cuddle time, it emphasizes this as more of an emotional attachment than just purely lust. Also the fact that if you haven't had anything in your butt in a while, it actually takes time to stretch. The fact that two turian fingers was enough to burn, it is nice to see people pay attention to what the human body can actually do when they are writing smut.
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