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commander-krios · 1 year

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Happy SpecReqs 2023, @ginbiscuit! Hope you don't mind I took your last suggestion and did something with Shepard/Garrus. Have some mutual pining, friends to lovers, and sparring! Enjoy!

Special shoutout to my beta for this fic, @korblez <3

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Title: Collide

Summary: Shepard has never been afraid of anything in his entire life. So why is he suddenly terrified of what he feels for a certain turian vigilante?

Words: 4108

Rating: M

Relationship: Male Shepard/Garrus Vakarian

Additional Tags: Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Banter, Sparring, Sexual Tension, Love Confessions, Friends With Benefits, Mass Effect 2, Fluff

Read on AO3

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“So, Shepard- No late night flings? What’s the word that humans call it? ‘One last hurray’?”

Shepard glanced up from the sandwich he’d been eating. Gardner claimed it was grilled cheese but cheddar didn’t have a weird tanginess to it that he pretended wasn’t there. He didn’t know where it came from, but it certainly wasn’t anywhere that had actual cows. Because anyone with taste buds could tell.

“Hurrah. And if you’re going to use human idioms, try to get them right.”

Trying to hide his disappointment in the evening meal, he settled back in his seat, taking in the sight of Garrus standing before him. It was still strange to see him dressed down in civilian clothing. The many years and missions they’d spent together had burned an image into his mind of Garrus in full combat gear, carrying that enormous sniper rifle he never left without.

And now, with an accompanying scar.

Shepard wanted to be surprised that Garrus was still on the ship, but he wasn’t. Garrus spent most of his time working on the Hammerhead down in the shuttle bay, making sure it was ready for whatever mess they got into next.

It wasn’t the Mako though and Garrus made sure everyone knew he preferred the tank to the hovercraft.

Shepard sighed, unsure of how to respond to his question because… well, that was just it, wasn’t it? Omega was a living, semi-breathing world just outside the airlock, waiting to be explored or fucked… or anything else really. But he didn’t find any of it as entertaining as the rest of the crew seemed to. While Miranda was probably doing some shady business for Cerberus, Samara and Thane most likely hunted bad people who needed to atone for their sins. Then there was Jack, Grunt, and Zaeed… most likely those three were causing some sort of trouble for Aria that he’d have to address before they left.

Still, the question irked him.

“I don’t do flings with random strangers or haven’t you noticed?” Shepard continued, pushing the plate with his sandwich away. Garrus was hovering just out of reach of the chair across from Shepard, shifting his feet awkwardly, his eyes searching his friend’s face. “The last thing I want to deal with is more of the crew’s problems.” He paused as he remembered why he avoided stepping foot on Omega when they docked. “Or Aria.”

Garrus chuckled, gripping the back of the chair in his hand, talons scraping against the padded back. “My time on Omega gave me some insight into a few things and one of those is ‘don’t bother Aria T’Loak if you want to keep all of your limbs’.” He pulled the chair out next, motioning with his other hand as if to say ‘may I?’ Some things transcended language and cultural barriers.

Shepard was unable to tear his eyes away from those talons. Memories of what Garrus could do with just a single touch during the few times they had spent “releasing” pent up energy and nerves were easy to recall. How simple it was to get lost in those blue eyes, in how Garrus had pressed him up against that ridiculous fish tank and-

Clearing his throat, Shepard crossed his legs, trying to hide the sudden problem in his pants. “Sure.”

Garrus sank into the chair and attempted to find a better position for his legs… which were so much longer than the space that the seat allowed. The Normandy was made for human heights, not turian despite having a lot of turian design. He still had trouble adjusting. He moved one leg under the table, but it was obviously uncomfortable, and then he shifted his entire body the opposite way.

It was so completely absurd that Shepard had to fight for control over himself. If he laughed at Garrus this early in the conversation, he wouldn’t be able to get in his daily dose of mercilessly teasing him, usually over something so stupid that it would always get a laugh out of him.

He loved his laugh.

Garrus glanced at the abandoned meal, teeth bared slightly in a look that meant disgust. “Spirits, what is that? Does it taste as awful as it smells?”

“Why? Did you want to try some?” He teased, a smirk curling his lips. Garrus might not be able to actually eat it, but that never stopped Shepard from poking fun at him. “I thought you already ate your delicious dextro-paste.”

Garrus glanced at him, mandible twitching. “Willing to share? I didn’t realize you cared, Shepard.”

“If you eat it, you might kill yourself. Or at the very least, give yourself a stomach ache. Then I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Garrus rumbled a laugh, his subvocals doing that thing that always turned his stomach into a puddle of molten metal. Shepard always pushed it away, reminding himself that they were friends and getting together a few times for a quickie didn’t mean anything, but the excuses were getting flimsier with each passing encounter.

“Turians don’t have stomachs. We have gizzards.” Garrus crossed his legs before sighing and giving up, leaving them stretched out in front of him. “Well, we have something like a stomach, but it’s not like a stomach in a human. The gizzard-”

Shepard held up his hands, almost pleading when he spoke. “Thank you for the biology lesson, but I don’t need to know.”

“I figured you’d want to know… I mean, if you tried to punch a turian ‘in the stomach’, you'd be disappointed to learn we aren’t as soft as humans.”

“Is that supposed to be a joke at my expense?” Shepard asked, leaning back in his chair, feeling more at ease with the sudden direction of their conversation. Anything to keep him from thinking about Garrus and that long body pressing against him. “Because I bet I can make you squeal if I punched you, stomach or not.”

“Like you do with all those mercs who try to hit on you at the bar?” Garrus mimicked him and leaned back against his seat. “Is that really why you don't go to Afterlife? Afraid someone might make you feel something?”

“Garrus…”

“Come on, Shepard. Don’t tell me you're scared.”

“I’ve never been afraid of anything in my entire life.” They both knew that wasn’t true, but neither were willing to risk ruining the moment. With a snort, Shepard tapped his foot against Garrus’ leg and he nearly fell from his chair. “But we both know you’re a chicken.”

“I don’t understand these human turns of phrase. What’s a chicken and why do I feel like it’s offensive?”

A laugh slipped out before Shepard could stop it and when Garrus looked at him with smug satisfaction, he felt his stomach tightened in want.

“I didn’t know you could laugh.” Garrus continued, seeing he had the advantage.

“Stuff it, Garrus.”

“Oh come on, it suits you.” Garrus casually reached forward and moved the plate of grilled cheese out of his line of sight. The motion would normally make Shepard roll his eyes or make a biting remark, but Garrus’s words hit him right in the chest.

The sincerity in his voice wasn’t surprising, they were best friends. No, what surprised Shepard was his personal reaction. He managed to keep his cheeks from burning like an overcharged heatsink, but the rest of him tensed, ready to throw himself across the table at the turian’s mercy. He usually had better control than this…

It was Cerberus’s fault. Yeah, they messed something up when they rebuilt him.

Raising an eyebrow, Shepard pierced Garrus with his icy gaze. “You’re being too nice. What do you want?”

“Why are you always like this?” Garrus trilled, crossing his arms over his carapace. His mandibles moved slightly, opening in a turian equivalent of a grin.

“Like what? And be careful what you say.” Shepard warned, leaning forward to put his arms on the table. “We might be friends, but I can still kick your ass.”

Garrus shook his head. “What are you going to do, Shepard? Break your hand on my mandibles?”

“You’ve been hanging around Joker too much.” Rolling his eyes, Shepard stood to carry his sandwich to the recycler. If he never saw a grilled cheese again, it would be too soon. “Tell him that his lessons aren’t taking and you still sound like a chickenshit.”

“Chickens again?” His subvocals rumbled again, and Shepard was grateful that he was facing away from him. He wouldn’t be able to see his arousal from that angle. “And I’m not hanging out with Joker. Much.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Shepard dumped the sandwich down the chute, waiting as it processed the waste. By the time he finished putting the plate in the washer, he was positive he gained enough control over himself to face Garrus again. With a quick breath, he turned away from the kitchenette. Garrus hovered behind him and Shepard took a step back, thankfully keeping his gasp contained. He hadn’t heard him move from the table and yet there he was, towering over him. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You talk a big game for someone who can’t win a fight without biotics.”

He almost choked him for that comment. “Excuse me? I could bodyslam your skinny ass to the floor, Vakarian.”

Garrus leaned forward, forehead nearly touching Shepard’s as his voice dropped to a whisper that had no right being so sexy. “Is that a challenge?”

Shepard stared at him, momentarily stunned by his boldness. He managed to get a hold of his wits and met his gaze, refusing to back down. “You’re damn right it is.”

Garrus straightened to his full height, watching him with an intensity that nearly made him shiver. “Sparring mat, ten minutes. If you don’t show, then I win by default and everyone will know their commander is a coward.”

Shepard knew deep down that he was teasing, trying to provoke him, and dammit, it was working. Before he could manage a response, Garrus had turned and exited the mess. Shepard watched him leave, eyes lingering a little too long on his hips than necessary.

Shepard ducked under Garrus’s arms. His slightly shorter height made it difficult for Garrus to get him in a headlock. “You’re going to have to try harder than that, Vakarian.”

Garrus chuckled, mandibles twitching in amusement. He flexed his talons in Shepard’s direction. “I’m going to make you regret those words.”

Shepard grinned. He loved this side of Garrus, the playful banter, the rough and tumble sparring, the inevitable satisfying finish for them both in Shepard’s cabin. But more than that, he wasn’t the uptight turian that had stepped aboard the Normandy over two years ago, looking to take down Saren and prove himself. Here, on a ship surrounded by human terrorists, Garrus was a breath of fresh air, of freedom. He was familiar… he was home.

“You talk a big game, Garrus, but the follow up is lacking.” He felt a thrill when Garrus tilted his head, eyes trailing up and down Shepard’s body. Probably looking for a weakness to exploit, but he enjoyed his gaze focused intently on him.

When he chuckled, a deep throaty sound that did little to cool the flaring attraction between them, Shepard had to step back and try to regain control before he decided to say the hell with it and press his lips to Garrus’s throat. Although, at this point, it might make for a better workout than their sparring session.

“Keep this up and I’m going to fall asleep.” Shepard taunted him, keeping out of range of his talons. That was one advantage Garrus had that could spell his doom. It wouldn’t take much for him to grab hold. His flexibility wasn’t as good as it could be, but Shepard might be able to keep away long enough to use his strength to subdue him.

Maybe.

“You’ll make it that easy for me, hmm?” Garrus tried to swipe an arm out and snag his waist, but Shepard sidestepped him. “Feel free to lay down, Shepard.”

The thought of lying beneath Garrus’s body only aroused him. The rosy cheeks he’d earned from the workout was now spreading down his neck and across his exposed chest. If Garrus noticed, he didn’t mention it, focused on their sparring. But his brain began to imagine those talons on his legs, exposing his cock while Garrus’s tongue-

Shepard shook his head, trying to purge the images from his mind. He didn’t need this distraction.

The realization slammed into him like a skycar the moment Garrus managed to ensnare Shepard’s waist in his superior grip, pulling him closer and trying to wrestle him to the ground. It was part of the turian’s plan, to distract him with these thoughts, to take advantage and to win their match with little to no resistance from Shepard.

Hooking his leg around Garrus’s, Shepard managed to use the turian’s height to his disadvantage and rolled backward, the momentum taking him along. Garrus released his hold, stunned by the sudden movement, and went sailing over him. He landed on his back, arms and legs sprawled as he stared at the shuttle bay ceiling, breaths harsh in the quiet.

He scrambled to his feet. Garrus hesitated as Shepard threw himself on top of him, pinning him to the floor. He hovered over Garrus, hands firmly on either side of his head, leaning so close that the tip of Shepard’s nose nearly brushed Garrus. Dominating him so thoroughly was a high he basked in, even if he knew it was luck more than skill that put them here. At least he hadn’t used his biotics to cheat like last time.

“Give up?” He whispered, lips brushing softly against mandibles. He felt pride when Garrus opened his mouth slightly in awe, sharp teeth reflecting the overhead lights.

His eyes met Shepard’s, a blaring blue fire staring back. “Oh, did you think you won? This was all part of my plan.”

His talon brushed against Shepard’s thighs and his muscles tensed at the touch. Oh. Oh.

Shepard inhaled sharply, closing his eyes. Garrus’s grip tightened and a purr left from deep in his chest. The sound was meant to be soothing, but all it did was lit a fire deep in Shepard’s stomach. A groan escaped his lips. As he concentrated on the vibrations against his legs, his earlier thoughts about Garrus’s tongue came to the forefront of his mind.

One of Shepard’s hands covered Garrus’s, still sitting atop his leg. “Garrus, I…”

His words evaporated as Garrus nuzzled his neck, tongue darting out to lick the curve of Shepard’s jaw. Gooseflesh bloomed across his arms and he fought a shiver, trying to concentrate on something, but Garrus was everywhere at once. His tongue and mouth made quick work of him, hands slowly massaging his thighs, slowly creeping to the one spot that screamed for attention.

Shepard was so lost in his pleasure that he barely registered Garrus shift beneath him. Suddenly, before he realized what had happened, Shepard was on his back, hips pressing into the mat as Garrus loomed above him, an expression of triumph on his face.

“What the-” He blinked up at Garrus when he leaned forward, nuzzling his neck once more before pulling back.

“You don’t look so smug now, Commander.”

He couldn’t help it when the laugh burst from him, echoing in the empty bay around them. “You cheated!”

“Me? Cheat? I should be offended, but I’m not.”

“And why’s that?” Shepard somehow managed to ask the question without sounding breathless. His heart beat so loudly in his chest that he was positive Garrus could hear it.

“If the famous Commander Shepard thinks I had to cheat to win, that means I did.”

“Glad to see you admit your flaws, Garrus. Cheating needs to be addressed before it becomes a problem.”

The look he received in return was enough to make Shepard feel like he won, even if his aching back was proved otherwise.

“Quit whining.” Garrus murmured, moving close again, tongue running along the curve of Shepard’s ear.

“You used your turian wiles to distract me.”

“Turians don’t have wiles.” Garrus intoned, taking a nip at his jaw before reluctantly standing, offering a hand in help. “But we do have incredible reach and strength, something humans are always surprised about.”

Shepard’s hand slipped into his and all he could think as he found his footing was how easily they fit together. “Yeah, well, the rest of the turians might not, but you certainly do.”

“I hope that’s a compliment.”

Once Shepard was back on his feet, he grinned at Garrus. “Always.”

He meant it too. Because Garrus wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met, human or turian or any other alien race. And the more he thought about it, the more Shepard realized that he didn’t want Garrus to leave his side. If they survived the Collectors, he needed Garrus with him to finish this mess.

Shepard let go of Garrus with a small amount of hesitation before turning to grab a towel from the workbench, wiping sweat from his forehead.

“Do all humans melt? Or is it just a Shepard thing?” Garrus teased, leaning against the lockers and watching him curiously.

Shepard rolled his eyes, wiping some more sweat on the towel before chucking it in the turian’s direction. Garrus caught it easily, mandibles flapping in amusement.

“Very funny, Garrus.”

“It’s an honest question.” His expression didn’t have an ounce of honesty in it. “You’re always so on edge. Maybe you need more than just a workout.”

Shepard tried to ignore the flare of heat in his groin at the insinuation, but there was something in Garrus’s subvocals that taunted him. Something that he was ready to give into again.

Fuck, who was he kidding? He wouldn’t be able to deny how deep his desire for Garrus went.

Garrus held the towel out to him, still damp with sweat. Slanting his eyes in suspicion, Shepard reached for it, but Garrus didn’t let go. Instead, the turian pulled him closer, using the towel as leverage. Shepard fell into his waiting arms, glancing up into his face with a smirk.

Shepard raised an eyebrow at him. “See? Cheater.”

Garrus laughed, leaning down to press his forehead against Shepard’s, brushing a talon down the exposed skin of his arm. “Opportunist. Not that you’ve ever complained before.”

Shepard lifted his chin, brushing his lips against Garrus’s mouth, his arousal growing when Garrus breathed in his scent. “I doubt you’ll hear one.”

“Good.” Garrus muttered before wrapping his arms around Shepard, pulling him flush against his carapace, nipping at the sensitive skin at the base of his neck. “Because I’d be heartbroken if you didn’t like me anymore.”

Shepard’s throat closed up, overcome with emotion for the man in his arms. There wasn’t a single moment in time where he could imagine disliking Garrus, but especially now, when they spent so much of their time together as friends, as lovers. He didn’t want to live a life with Garrus.

The hardest thing he’d ever had to do was to pull away, disentangling his limbs from the man he cared for. Shepard stepped back, creating some distance from the tempting kisses and warm embraces.

Garrus met his eyes, confusion obvious in the way he watched Shepard. “Is something wrong?”

“I… Yes.” Shepard ran a hand over his head, the feel of his short buzzed hair a tactile sensation that helped to ground him. The next words out of his mouth broke his heart before he even spoke them. “I can’t do this anymore, Garrus.”

The disappointment radiated from his friend as he crossed his arms. “I don’t know what to say.”

“This isn’t blowing off steam for me, anymore.” Shepard admitted, pushing on despite the hole that appeared in his chest. His hands were shaking, his heart pounding against his rib cage, his stomach in knots. He was terrified of so many things, but losing Garrus was at the top of the list.

Shepard didn’t usually expose the deepest parts of himself to other people. Sex was one thing, but emotions… those were messy. He usually avoided them, pretended they didn’t exist. But with Garrus, he needed to be truthful about what he felt because if they died at the end of this mission, he wanted to know he’d at least lived with the last of his time.

“What is it then? Because you’ve been giving me mixed signals all night.” Garrus sounded upset and he had every right to be.

“I’m not trying to lead you on. I just can’t help myself when it comes to you.” Shepard turned away, neck burning. “But I owe you more than a tryst.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Shepard.”

“That isn’t true.” He whispered, feeling his heart in his throat. “I owe you everything.”

Garrus shuffled behind him, reaching for his hand and Shepard let him take it, turning towards him. Garrus squeezed his hand briefly, but Shepard couldn’t meet his gaze, refusing to witness the disappointment, the worry. So he closed his eyes instead, the blackness of the void taking him.

“Shepard-”

“I love you.” He couldn’t stop the confession from tumbling into the silence.

There was no response, but he could feel Garrus stiffen beside him. He hadn’t been expecting a declaration of love, that was obvious, and Shepard immediately knew it was a mistake. To push the boundaries of their friendship was a lot to ask of Garrus and here he was, dumping something like this on him out of nowhere.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dump my emotional crap on you.”

He tried to pull away but Garrus tightened his grip, refusing to let go.

“Shepard, look at me.”

Taking a deep breath, he did as Garrus requested and opened his eyes, slowly trying to leave the dark abyss of his thoughts, setting his fear and doubts aside. When he finally glanced at Garrus, he was rendered speechless by the tenderness he found there.

Garrus moved closer, his hand still holding Shepard’s like his life depended on it, and leaned down to meet his gaze head on. “Do you think this is a fling? Or that I haven’t thought about you night after night, laying on my cot and wondering if I could get away with sneaking up to your cabin? Because I have and it’s not about the sex, Shepard. Even if it’s some of the best I’ve ever had.”

Shepard let out a breathless laugh, his heart fluttering where it belonged, in his chest.

“I can’t get you out of my head. I’ll be honest, I don’t want to. You… everything I feel about you is unexpected, but I’m happy it’s you that I feel it for. You’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever known, Shepard. And I-”

Shepard didn’t let him finish. Because he didn’t need to hear Garrus say those three words to know their truth. Because he felt it so deeply in the pit of his stomach each time their eyes met across a room. He felt it whenever Garrus responded to his teases with his own quips, whenever a smirk was given back tenfold, or an innocent touch became the most tender of caresses, he knew that Garrus Vakarian was his.

Pressing his lips against Garrus’s throat, he was rewarded with a low purr that increased in volume as Shepard made a trail down to where his carapace began. Then he paused, glancing up to find that Garrus had shut his eyes.

“You ok?” He whispered, feeling whole for the first time since Cerberus had resurrected him.

Garrus trailed his hands up Shepard’s arms, gripping them tightly. His eyes opened and Shepard almost drowned in the depths of his affection. “With you, I’ve never been better.”

Shepard smiled, full of warmth and love and a million other flowery feelings, the turian in front of him trilling in contentment. “I couldn’t do this without you, Garrus.”

“You could, but you don’t have to.” Garrus rubbed a mandible against his cheek, the motion full of more affection than Shepard knew how to deal with.

Shepard looped his arms around Garrus’s midsection, burying his face into the crevice between his neck and carapace. Nothing made him feel safer than this place right here. He tightened his grip, Garrus responding in kind. “You and me against the galaxy, Vakarian.”

Garrus sighed, relaxing in his arms, running a hand down his back. “I’m here with you until the end. Always will be.”

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