KPW, mshenko comfort sex after someone has a nightmare or a close call on a mission or something?

He needed new armor. At least a new chest plate. Carefully, Kaidan flipped the straps and gingerly removed the plate from his chest, wincing at the bruising right over his heart. The bullet had gone clean through into the tight weave under the metal before he’d managed to throw up a decent enough biotic barrier to protect himself. Close call. Closer than most. He circled the burned spot in the weave with the tip of his finger thoughtfully, knowing he’d get the riot act read to him later for being so careless among so many enemies. But first… Shepard was briefing the mission crew in the war room, and since Kaidan didn’t fancy being dressed down in front of everyone, he packed his locker slowly and then requisitioned himself some new Spectre armor before hitting the showers and skipping the meeting entirely. But he couldn’t avoid the debriefing forever, and it was barely an hour later when his omni-tool pinged with a short message. ‘Captain’s Cabin in five.’ Yikes. Maybe he should have gone after all. Less dangerous than being one on one with the Commander.

Solider. Marine. Biotic. Sentinel. Techie. He could handle this. Kaidan squared his shoulders and rang the bell for the Captain’s Cabin. The door swished open, and before he had time to case the room, the attack began. Strong hands roughly fisted into the fabric of his off-duty blues and dragged him in. Dry, cracked, hot lips crashed against his own soundlessly, making the rush of Kaidan’s heartbeat suddenly thunder in his ears, blocking out any other noise. Shepard came at him from all sides; hands and mouth and pure determination, keeping his lover off balance for the entirety of it, stripping them of clothes and speech and thought before Kaidan had a split second to consider anything besides helplessly following.

More than the building migraine or the deep purple bruise on his chest, Kaidan could feel that Shepard was hurting. Every searching kiss and relentless assault of naked skin made that much plain. Close. Too close. Again. So Kaidan splayed himself down on the mattress first, spreading his legs and arms, eyes wide open. I’m okay, Shepard. We’re okay. The commander followed him down, the first part of their bodies to touch, Shepard’s mouth right over the deepening bruise. Kaidan’s back arched into it, a fire lit in his veins that was never quite doused. And when Shepard had prepared them both and was sliding his length into Kaidan as slowly as possible, biting down hard onto Kaidan’s shoulder to keep himself together, the biotic couldn’t find his breath. Couldn’t praise his lover or talk dirty. All he could do was feel it. Inch by inch. The sweat and lube. The muscles in the back of Shepard’s thighs tensing every time he thrust home. Callused hands cupping his face and digging into the soft skin behind his ears, blocking out even more of the sounds. But there were no moans or curses or prayers. Just harsh breathing as their foreheads fell together.

And when Shepard came inside him without warning, his lips parting on a silent gasp against the bridge of Kaidan’s nose, the biotic thought, close. So close. He grabbed for the back of Shepard’s neck, yanking on the short hair and keeping their foreheads together as he came hard. His whole body quaked and then trembled unbearably as Shepard thrust in a few more times gently. They stayed like that until the softening of their dicks required Shepard to pull out, but he only moved so much as to pull his hips back and withdraw. Their breathing slowed, and the cooling sweat made goose bumps rise on Kaidan’s overheated skin. His fingers started to cramp where they were tangled in sandy blonde hair. But he didn’t move a muscle until Shepard kissed him again and then raised his head enough for their eyes to meet clearly. “Don’t ever do that again,” he whispered. And Kaidan once again was left helpless to do anything except follow that command.

What if Shepard and Kaidan were contract killers, kinda Mr. Smith and Mrs. Smith style, and they just realize actually do love each other. I realize it’s contrite, but it could also maybe be funny?

I was watching Chuck when I wrote this. 😀

Alenko. Shepard would recognize those broad shoulders anywhere. The ramrod straight posture and… the perfect fucking way he fills out a tux. How does he even do it? Alenko is just like the rest of them; contract killers. Mercenaries. But tonight… dammit but Alenko looks like he belongs here, while Shepard is clearly out of place despite following the dress code. He can’t hide the scar on his forehead or the way he looks every bit the graying life of hard knocks peasant.

And as much as he likes admiring the view, he knows that Alenko is here for the same reason that he is. The same mark. And marks are money. He can’t let Kaidan get to him first. But he can have a little fun while he’s casing the ballroom, packed full with hundreds of socialites of varying degrees of blood on their hands.

Shepard slips behind Alenko and tips his hip to rest against the bar. “Fancy seeing you here at such a nice event.”

Amber barely flick in his direction. “Yeah, I love mingling with white collar criminals,” he says sarcastically. “And I’d like to chat, but I’ve got work to do.” He turns his back, but Shepard isn’t phased by that. He simply steps forward and brushes his chest lightly against Kaidan’s broad back.

“Me, too,” he murmurs and swears he can feel a chill crawl up Alenko’s spine. “But who says we can’t mix business with a little pleasure? It is Valentine’s Day, after all.”

Kaidan snorts and pulls away with a harsh jerk, almost upsetting his tumbler of whiskey. “Do those shitty lines actually work on people?” He’s backed himself into a corner at the end of the polished bar. Rookie mistake? From Alenko? It’s too good. Too fucking good. He’s gotten to him after all this time. And now is the perfect time to make his move. He’s always known when to move in on his mark. So he tips his hips forward and lets his weight carry him into Kaidan’s orbit. And there are no more side glances or stupid pick up lines.

Alenko knows he’s cornered and his expression isn’t as cool as it was just a minute ago. His shoulders straighten. Shepard splays a hand on his chest, gliding down the buttons of his tux and popping them one by one. Kaidan’s eyes don’t leave his face. Carefully, he dips inside and his fingertips brush the sidearm concealed within. He grins. Alenko swallows hard. Shepard balls his fist into the shape of a gun and puts his finger square on Kaidan’s heart. “Bang.”

And then he’s gone. Kaidan can have the target. Shepard’s already found his mark.

mshenko one of them buys the other a PUPPY

“Kaidan? Christ, Kaidan, come here!” Shepard’s voice echoes out from the bedroom.

“Why? What is it? You okay?” Kaidan rushes to the master bedroom of their London apartment, scared that he might find Shepard sprawled out on the floor again, having pushed himself to do too much during his recovery. And he does find the man spread out on the floor, but he’s not hurt. In fact, he’s digging under the bed. “What’s going on?”

Shepard grunts and attempts to wiggle his large frame under the bed further. “I think one of those damn squirrels got in the window and ran under here. Mph. Those bastards are getting ballsy.”

Kaidan grins, but Shepard’s not wrong. Leave it to pestilence to survive a reaper attack better than any of their predators. Their numbers in recent months have gotten out of hand, and even eaten all of Kaidan’s beautiful tomato plants. “Let me help,” he says, getting down on his stomach and peering under the bed. Ah! There it is. “Uh… that’s not a squirrel, Shepard. That’s a puppy.”

“A what?”

He meets his lover’s eyes under the box spring. “Happy Valentine’s Day?”

Shepard stares at him for a minute and then casts his eyes towards the scrawny thing hunkered in the corner, chewing energetically on one of their lost socks. “How is that a dog?” he says. “It looks like a rodent. I thought dogs were bigger.”

Kaidan chuckles. “They grow just like everything else.” Over dinner a few nights ago, Kaidan had mentioned getting a pet. Their apartment was quiet, and sometimes he liked the idea of filling it with more activity. Once Shepard recovered he would undoubtedly add more noise to the place, but occasionally the silence was deafening. And when the commander had mentioned he’d never had a pet and hadn’t actually seen a dog in real life – being a third generation Outer Colony resident – the idea had refused to leave the biotic’s mind. “Can you reach him? He won’t bite.”

Shepard exhales noisily and snakes his arm out. The small animal snuffles the tips of his fingers and then licks them with clear joy. “That’s right, you weird little thing. Come to daddy,” he mutters with severe concentration, finally able to maneuver his hand around the puppy’s backside and scoop him out along the polished hardwoods. Once free, the animal barks shrilly and bounds off through the door, probably on the hunt for another sock snack.

Kaidan gets to his knees with an exasperated cry. “Dammit, he’s gone again. I’ve been looking for him this whole time.”

Shepard heaves himself up with a laugh. “Guess you should pick a name for him so we know what to yell, huh? I vote for Blasto.”

"You’d always vote for Blasto.”

"It’s the only name that matters.”

Prompt: Shepard does NOT do Valentine’s Day. Kaidan takes him out on the town anyway.

Christ on toast, it was that time again. The bloodred stains on street corner store windows that leaked quickly down the polished isles, overtaking everything and drowning the city in tides of unrest and panic. The populace struck dumb at the last minute even though the proverbial knives through millions of hearts happened every year, like some cruel clockwork that never failed to snuff out the most stout of constitutions with lethal precision against a people made blind by modern comforts and security.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Shepard.”

“Says you.”

“Really? You’re gonna be this way every year forever?”

Shepard turns slowly on his heel, his perfect grimace in perfect order. He pauses. “Yes.”

Kaidan holds out a box. It’s not very big, but also not very small. It’s the same box as last year, wrapped with the same crimson-soaked paper and tied with the same dried out pink ribbon. He’s held it out to Shepard four years in a row. Shepard has refused it the same amount of times.

“If you propose to me today, I’ll shoot you in the foot.”

Kaidan grins, not the least bit perturbed by his lover’s attitude anymore. “Well, then, that’s an improvement over last year, isn’t it? You threatened to shoot my balls off, if I remember correctly. Take the gift.”

“Bah, humbug.”

“Wrong holiday.”

“Kaidan.”

There it is. His well-honed reproachful voice. It’s what Kaidan waits for every year. With his precision timing at just the right moment of testing Shepard’s patience he can get him to agree to, “just dinner.”

“Fine. It better be expensive.”

Kaidan shrugs with a crooked grin and turns to leave, his mission accomplished. “Isn’t it always?”

***

Four years and Kaidan has to wonder if Shepard secretly likes Valentine’s Day in reality. He seems happy enough sitting in his best suit in London’s trendiest restaurant, eating a steak priced up astronomically in accordance with Valentine’s dinner etiquette. He makes no snide comments about new lovers and new cliché engagements, as he’d been doing until the second they sat down. He always gives Kaidan just that much. Enough to placate him but never enough for him to demand more compliance next year. But Kaidan loves love. He loves Valentine’s Day. He takes a sick day every year just to wander the streets and watch people falling into manufactured infatuation. Shepard sees the desperation in everyone’s eyes as they all pray to every deity of every race to not be that guy left out in the cold February, cursing the holiday and all its nauseating affection. But then again, Shepard’s always been the empty half of the glass to Kaidan’s full half.

So, regardless of Shepard’s opinion, he knows when he needs to take command, and damn the odds of the proper outcome. That’s why, after dessert is served, he pulls out a box. Not too big, but also not too small. It’s identical to the one Kaidan has given him every year, only this box is only a few weeks old. And Kaidan’s expression tells the commander that his XO knows the score in a split second, just as he always has.

“Shepard,” he says breathlessly, as he swallows hard.

“This is your holiday,” Shepard explains, staring resolutely down at the table cloth, which is the color of a rotting pink rose. “It should have been me doing this from the beginning because it means more to you. That’s why I never accepted your gift before. I’m sorry.”

The broken crystal wine glasses Kaidan knocks off the table in his haste to throw himself into Shepard’s arms are quietly added to their bill. And just like that, the most popular couple in the galaxy joins the gruesome statistics of those engaged on Valentine’s Day.

In honor of ltleflrt finishing her amazing Mass Effect AU, Feels Like Home, I have made the grossest, sappiest companion fanmix ever!

There is an A Side for Shepard, and a B Side for Kaidan. What I’ve done is give Shepard and Kaidan both 1 song each from the same artist, for six different tracks apiece. As you can see, the whole thing is incredibly saccharine, but I couldn’t help myself. Her fic gave me lots of feels. If you haven’t read it yet, do yourself a favor and give it a look.

[ LISTEN TO IT ]

Mshenko, Shep has a panic attack?

(As someone who used to suffer debilitating panic attacks, this is relevant to my interests.)

Sometimes it’s a slow burn that starts at the tips of his fingers. Creeping up along his arms to his spine and then down until he’s almost numb from head to toe. Too many cameras pushed into his face. A sea of unfamiliar faces. The words won’t come and he can’t move even to cover his face from the glare and the noise. No one knows and no one cares to help him so he’s frozen as his throat closes.

Other times it’s quick, like a shot to the chest. He’s lunging out of bed, gasping and dizzy. His legs won’t respond and he slips to the ground, heaving breaths that never give him enough oxygen. He’s drowning, sinking below the surface. His mind is a cloud that won’t focus. Can’t focus. He’s lost. Lost and he’ll never resurface. He’s going to die like this. Fuck, he’s–

“Shepard.”

It always ends the same way. Or starts to. A warm hand on the small of his back and a honey-whiskey voice in his ear. “Shepard.” Like he’s reciting a poem or a prayer. “Breathe with me, Shepard. I’m here.”

Steady in and out. Back and forth. Slowly it all comes back to him. The most important things. His reality. The lip scar. Salt and pepper temples. Amber eyes. Strong arms. The reassuring grip of long fingers. It always, always, ends the same way. With Kaidan Alenko. His lifeline.

Mshenko fluffyness! Shepard has gotten a mancold and Kaidan takes care of him! :3

“Damn, Commander, you’re acting like it’s the end of the world. You know, again.”

"Oh, good, he’s a comedian, too,” Shepard muttered hoarsely with a very undignified sneeze. He wiped at his raw nose and groaned. “What the fuck is this plague?”

“It’s called the common cold,” Kaidan answered, passing him a cup of warm tea. “Drink this, you’ll feel better.”

“That’s entirely debatable at this point. I saved the goddamn universe. They should have at least spared a broad spectrum inoculation for me.” Shepard tucked himself further into the blanket on the sofa and sipped the tea, coughing, at this point just praying for his nose to stop dripping.

“What,” Kaidan quipped, sitting next to him and rubbing his knee comfortingly. “HQ hasn’t answered the first hundred requests you’ve sent to them over the last forty-eight hours?”

“Not yet,” Shepard rasped irritably. “But I haven’t given up yet.”

“There are other ways to spend your sick days.”

“You mean my end days?”

Kaidan leaned close with a glint in his eye. “Wanna know a good old wife’s tale from here on Earth? They used to say that the fastest way to get rid of a cold is to give it to someone else. C’mere, I’ll take it,” he murmured, leaning forward and kissing the poor aching soul for all he was worth. And he could tell by the sudden relaxed stance and enthusiasm that his treatment was finally starting to work.

I quietly suggest Kaidan biotically molesting Shepard from the Engineer bay whilst Shepard tries to have a conversation with James. O3O;;;

(first of all , wifey, there is nothing quiet about you. ^3^)

This is probably a breach of protocol, Kaidan thinks as he hovers behind the Kodiak, activating his biotics. But there’s nothing for it. He and Shepard had fought the night before and Shepard was refusing to speak with him now. Well, there was more than one way to get his CO’s attention. Especially since Liara had taught him how to make small, harmless stasis fields for the sake of honing his skills and control. Bet she never thought he’d be using it for this.

Shepard’s voice travels towards him from where he’s sitting on the other side of the weapons bench from James. “Yeah, but we need more for less. We don’t have the funds for such high powered guns right now.”

His voice is calm and steady, for which Kaidan commends him. The tiny stasis field hovering just over his hips is vibrating at just the right frequency to shift the flow of blood from his head to his… other head. Kaidan knows that because they’ve done this before in the privacy of the Captain’s cabin.

“C’mon, Loco, I get it, but I don’t want one of these crappy things shooting off in my face.”

Kaidan suppresses a chuckled at the double meaning James is oblivious to. “Noted. Just…” his voice is now slightly strained with what sounds like irritation, but is oh, so much more. “Just get it done. I’ll make it work. Nothing will ‘shoot off’ in your face. I swear.”

There’s a grunt and the scrape of boots while Kaidan chokes back an outright laugh. After a long moment of silence, a truly desperate voice calls over to him. “I give, Alenko. I’ll never tell you to enkindle me in bed ever again.”

“No, hell no, fuck no, I’m done with this.”

“Shepard,” Kaidan says with gentle reprimand.

“This is ridiculous. How is this therapeutic? And why are you suddenly an incredible dancer? I saw you at the party back at my apartment. You sucked.”

There’s a hoarse chuckle and Kaidan sets them back in position to waltz. “First of all, I was drunk. Second of all, no XO worth his salt makes his CO look bad.”

“Very funny. Look, I appreciate how this is supposed to help my legs recover and all, but there are other ways to dance. Like around a punching bag.”

“You’re not ready for that, and this is good practice for the officer’s ball and to help you get your balance back. It’ll do everyone good to see you recovering and dancing with a handsome man on your arm. This is helping morale during the rebuilding, so stop bitching and just follow my lead. Nice and slow.”

With an irritated grimace, Shepard obeys and mirrors Kaidan’s steps for a minute. “You owe me,” he mutters.

Kaidan catches him as Shepard’s feet trip over themselves and pulls him flush against his warm body. His lips trail over the healing scars on Shepard’s cheek until they brush his ear with maddening lightness. “Of course I do,” he murmurs in a low, promising tone. “I’ll pay you back tonight. Like you said, there are other ways to dance.”

Minific prompt: mShenko. Wide awake.

Shepard doesn’t know how Kaidan’s able to do it. “Alenko,” he whispers. “Kaidan,” a little louder. No answer. None at all. He turns his head slowly and carefully like he’s afraid any disturbance in the air might make the whole waking dream blow away in an instant.

Kaidan’s face fills his vision. Soft lips parted slightly and slackened in sleep as he breathes quietly, his warm breath still a bit minty as it brushes Shepard’s lips. Eyes moving rapidly under closed eyelids as he tries to dream away the dark circles the war’s marking him with. The quiet crackle of static from the L2 implant as Kaidan sighs and shifts his head to the other side then back again before Shepard has the chance to protest the loss of his view.

Honestly, he doesn’t know how Kaidan managed to fall asleep. It’s their first night together, and Shepard has never felt so sated and whole in his life. He’d been dreaming of this since the first time he was introduced to Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko and the man shocked him both literally and figuratively when their hands met for a firm shake. The static shock had arced between them and he’d grinned as the young officer apologized, embarrassed.

And now it was real and the overwhelming feeling of surreal happiness was keeping him wide awake.