Hope this fits the bill, OP. Set during ME3, pre-Presidium date.
*
It started off as half a joke, really. Garrus said a lot of stupid things in the aftermath of fantastic sex.
He knew he couldn't use that as a crutch, since he said a lot of stupid things whether sex was involved or not, but sometimes it made it easier to live with himself.
She liked to trace the line of his markings when they laid in bed together afterward, her fingers gently following the pattern across his nose, over his cheek. He'd closed his eyes, enjoying her touch, flicking a mandible out to tickle her palm when it got close. She'd laughed, snatching her hand back.
"I've always liked these," she'd said, smile in her voice.
"Wouldn't mind seeing them on you," he'd thoughtlessly replied--intending to tease, but his voice had emerged serious and warm, giving him away.
The implications were sort of serious for two people who had a hard time defining things like relationships--not to mention completely outdated--but when he'd cracked one eye open to survey the
( ... )
He painted more symbols on her sternum, her jaw, her forehead--a red wave with intricate dots for soldier, a green series of interlocked angles for friend. He painted, and when there was just enough room left, he took up the blue pot.
She closed her eyes while he traced the familiar lines over her nose, her cheekbones, down and into the hollow of her cheeks. They didn't look the same on a human face, but, regardless...
For a long moment, when the designs were done, he stared down at her, watching the paint dry. Her eyes were on his face again, but his traced the stark geometric pattern of Vakarian on her skin, and he felt
( ... )
Omgomgomgomgomgomgomg! I didn't see this before. This is PERFECT. Just what I asked for. You are the best A!A. Shit. this is soo good. thank you thank you thank you. You made my really shitty day brighter <3
*
It started off as half a joke, really. Garrus said a lot of stupid things in the aftermath of fantastic sex.
He knew he couldn't use that as a crutch, since he said a lot of stupid things whether sex was involved or not, but sometimes it made it easier to live with himself.
She liked to trace the line of his markings when they laid in bed together afterward, her fingers gently following the pattern across his nose, over his cheek. He'd closed his eyes, enjoying her touch, flicking a mandible out to tickle her palm when it got close. She'd laughed, snatching her hand back.
"I've always liked these," she'd said, smile in her voice.
"Wouldn't mind seeing them on you," he'd thoughtlessly replied--intending to tease, but his voice had emerged serious and warm, giving him away.
The implications were sort of serious for two people who had a hard time defining things like relationships--not to mention completely outdated--but when he'd cracked one eye open to survey the ( ... )
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She closed her eyes while he traced the familiar lines over her nose, her cheekbones, down and into the hollow of her cheeks. They didn't look the same on a human face, but, regardless...
For a long moment, when the designs were done, he stared down at her, watching the paint dry. Her eyes were on his face again, but his traced the stark geometric pattern of Vakarian on her skin, and he felt ( ... )
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I love how loving you portray them here, spot on characterization!
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