Chapter Text
NORMANDY SR-2, CAPTAIN'S CABIN
Commander Shepard gently pet the soft, small head of space hamster Boo in a bid to quell her growing tide of anxious thoughts--thoughts that, ironically enough, did not deal with the Collectors or the Reapers at the moment. She wished for some moments of peace from hefting the weight of galactic responsibility on her shoulders, yet it seemed the wish curled a cursed pyjak's finger to replace one bunch of fears for another.
She held the rotund rodent up to her face. It gave a pleasant 'squee' as it spun round once in her calloused palm. Shepard smiled.
"Oh, Boo...I haven't felt this--this anxious, since the Academy."
The space hamster's pink nose twitched excitedly. Shepard gave a solid boop to the pet's snoot. It shook its head and began cleaning itself with nimble claws.
"Garrus is doing research...Vakarian is nothing if not reliable, but..." Shepard paused as the space hamster began to struggle in a bid for freedom. The commander pressed a gentle kiss atop the rodent's head before returning it to its shelved habitat. Once secured, she lowered a treat of hydroponic pearl kelp. As the space hamster began greedily nibbling at the succulent leaf, Shepard continued: "...I can't help worry what vids he's actually watching--especially since EDI told me some recommendations were coming from Joker."
The shackled AI had offered for Shepard to review the extranet activities of the Normandy's pilot, but she refused. Cerberus may have no qualms disregarding personal privacy, but she did.
Shepard was fairly certain Joker would attempt to help Garrus in earnest (albeit with some characteristic teasing along the way); yet what did Joker actually know about having sex with trans women? And beyond that, what gender concepts did turians even have? There was plenty of just absolutely god awful fetish porn out there before even adding the interspecies aspect to the mix.
Shepard sighed and collapsed into her desk chair. Even with her anxieties, she couldn't deny the growing ache she had for Garrus. It was definitely sexual now (absolutely), but it began at a more fundamental level: the moment he recovered from being shot on Omega, she needed to have him near her. Even just silently sharing space in the main battery as they each worked on calibrations or reports felt like some sustenance she required to live. So when she had the chance to get closer, drink deeper, she just laid it out plainly and delighted in watching the turian vigilante squirm. Yet, it was Garrus, and goddamn it he had to go and say "there's nobody in this galaxy I respect more than you" as he warmed earnestly to the idea of fucking his commander and friend...and Shepard just had to leave because if she opened her mouth again, she would either say some of the dumbest shit in her life or attempt to tear his heavy armor off with her teeth in a feral bid to feel his body against hers.
Pulling away from her quick reminiscence, Shepard's green eyes floated passed the happily munching hamster to her prized model ship display before noticing the blinking notification emitting from her private terminal. She swiveled in the chair and sat upright to check her inbox and found a message from Mordin containing the educational materials he had promised her; a receipt was attached as well with a list of discreetly procured goods that awaited her retrieval the next time they docked at the Citadel for supplies.
Shepard gave a slight smirk thinking of how Mordin squeezed credits from Cerberus in service of paving the way to turian pound town. Scanning the receipt, she noticed an additional footnote from the salarian doctor: "Talked to Doctor Chakwas regarding human lubrication. Prior recommendation of silicon-based lubricant...problematic. Recommend instead this Fornax recommended water-based lubricant--safe and effective for either chirality interspecies foreplay and fornication. Already received refund for ineffective product. Glad to have fellow medical personnel on the ship--otherwise, might have gotten it wrong. Enjoy yourself, Commander Shepard."
Shepard blushed slightly. It was not a reaction of embarrassment, but the appreciation of care from her crew. Mordin was a strange but heartful fellow while Doctor Chakwas felt like a vital anchor that stopped the threat of Shepard floating far away, drowning in the sea storms of Cerberus. Chakwas provided the reassurance Shepard needed at times when dealing with the repercussions of what seemingly amounted to resurrection by the Lazarus Project.
Shepard opened her omni-tool to set a reminder to pick up the package. She shutoff her private terminal and fed her fish before stripping out of her N7 hoodie to shower. The hot water nearly stung Shepard's freckled flesh, reddening the round of her shoulders and steaming her toned limbs pink. Shepard let out a small moan of satisfaction before turning the temperature down just slightly to avoid overheating.
As Shepard lathered her curled crimson hair, her mind drifted through some of the clinical images of human-turian sex positions listed in Mordin's terminal pamphlet. Several reminded her of some early sexual escapades she enjoyed in the Academy before graduating. Her first was a hyper femme engineer living in the same barracks; then a selfish vanguard cadet; later, a respected rival from a competing academy debate team (they hooked up twice at two different regionals)...yet even with some sexual experiences, Shepard still found herself fairly at a loss when it came to recalling orgasms--both before and after gender affirmation surgery.
Well, orgasms with partners...after rinsing the shampoo from her head, Shepard reached into the back of her shower basket to pull out a small purple vibrator. She began gently massaging her clit with the pads of her shower-wrinkled fingers. Shepard switched the toy on, glad to have no direct neighbors to her captain's cabin. With her other hand, she teased her labial lips, gently pushing aside the tufts of dark curly pubic hair; she rocked the vibrating wand against her slit, soaked from the shower and tinged with slight traces of her precum.
Shepard moved away from her clit to cup her breast, heavy without the binding sports bra she wore daily beneath her armor. Her fingers spread in pairs to mimic the tri-fingered hands of a turian. When Shepard pinched her dark nipple between her ring and middle finger, she gave a moan and dipped the purple vibrator inside her.
"Garrus..." Shepard moaned his name quietly. She pressed her forehead against the shower wall and spread her strong legs, pushing the wand deeper and pressing it methodically to massage her G-spot. What would her friend feel like inside her? How would he move his protruding, angled hips against the round flesh of her ass? What would it feel like to scream his name with her head buried in the cowl of his neck?
The vibrator was losing lubrication. Shepard pulled it out and shut it off, tossing it unceremoniously into the shower basket as she frantically returned to her clit. Shepard quickened her motions into fast, hard circles until it felt like hot steam exploded from her core and whistled wildly in a rush to her head. Finally, finally, she crested at the tip of her orgasm and begged her body to follow through, never breaking the rhythm against her clit and soon enough she growled as her legs shook with the kettle-pot burst of orgasm blasting her clean of any thought or worry.
Still quivering and catching her breath, Shepard briefly switched the shower to cold for a few seconds before drying off and collapsing on her too-soft bed, the only light in the cabin coming from the blue glow of her aquarium.
Whatever vids Joker has him watching, Shepard thought, I trust Garrus. I have to let myself just trust him with who I am... Briefly, the commander chuckled chastisingly at herself. I trust the man with my life. Isn't that more intimate in the end?
Shepard let herself get mesmerized by the vibrant colors and grace of her fish, lulling eventually into a surprisingly restful sleep which could only be surpassed if the bed wasn't empty beside her.