I doesn’t matter how many times I have heard Space Between I choke up every damn time without failure oh my god, it’s just so beautiful,,, but then It’s Going Down comes on next and I’m hype as hell and ready to sword fight to my death
Rating: We’ll go with Teen - it’s rather arbitrary tho, nothing really risque here.
Relationship: Male Shepard/Zaeed Massani
Summary: Shepard and Zaeed’s first kiss.
His eyes had seen too much. That was obvious to anyone willing to see. Too much death and horror and who knew what else. It left him with a soulful gaze that reached straight into Shepard’s marrow, tugging and twisting till he was so entangled in Zaeed Massani there was no hope of ever separating himself again. This longing to be closer, connected, had been slowly nibbling away his self-restraint for months, and now that they stood here - too much space between them… not nearly enough space between them - Shepard knew he was utterly lost.
The air vibrated with the tension around them, oxygen too sparse to keep his head from spinning. Zaeed licked his lips in irresistible invitation; the summons too urgent for Shepard to ignore. On a gasp, Shepard moved, swiftly closing the distance. One expected a man like Zaeed to feel like leather and taste like ash, but he didn’t. His lips were warm and soft, pliable and delectable, and he tasted of whiskey and smoke.
Shepard’s lungs burned as much with lust as their need to breathe, and he surfaced to quickly drink a gulp of air before diving back in for more. Zaeed seemed to be in the same predicament, devouring Shepard’s lips like they’re the only things holding death at bay.
The wall was cold and solid against his back as the merc pressed him into it - a delicious contrast to the hot planes of muscle crowding him from the front. Teeth dragged through the stubble on his chin before capturing his bottom lip between them. Shepard moaned. His fingers skimmed across the skin of the merc’s throat, curling around the back of his neck, forcing him closer still.
“Shepard.” Massani’s voice was whiskey and gravel. Breath came in harsh, ragged rasps as their eyes drank each other in. “You’re bloody perfect.”
It wasn’t like Shepard to crumble at a compliment like that, but his heart flipped within his ribs. “I’m just a man, Massani.”
“Not to me.”
There wasn’t any time to process that statement. Hot, hungry lips bore down on his again as higher thought process stilted, mind consumed with passion instead. Zaeed’s arm snaked around his waist, drawing their bodies flush while his free hand scratched against the rough fabric covering Shepard’s chest. Shepard’s own fingers edged Zaeed’s jaw, tangled into his hair, ruffling the short strands into a fluffy mess. Drawing away to catch his breath again, Shepard grinned at his handiwork, receiving a smirk and a low growl from Massani.
“Perhaps we should move this somewhere more private?” Shepard asked, nipping the man’s puffy, red lips with his teeth, then soothing them with his tongue.