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Miranda moved through the bustle of Bekenstein, anonymous behind her Quarian face mask. The costume was flawlessly authentic, having been taken from a pilgrim who thought she could peddle her junk on a human world. Cerberus had made sure to leave enough of her behind to let the Migrant Fleet know that was a mistake.
The flow of the crowd pushed Miranda towards Bekenstein’s red light district. Shepard wouldn’t approve of the Quarian’s fate if he knew, which complicated Miranda’s job. Despite the violent expedience that he had learned in the course of becoming an N7 and a Spectre Shepard still wanted to be a Good Person who did Good Things, which was a problem. His decision to save the Citadel Council had resulted in the deaths of thousands of humans just to keep aliens in power, and there was no way releasing the Rachni queen wouldn’t come back to haunt them all.
In the course of Project Lazarus Miranda had presented the Illusive Man with eight different options for making Shepard more agreeable, ranging from making him more trusting by subtly influencing his oxytocin receptors to a frontal lobe implant that could outright override higher-order thinking. The Illusive Man had rejected every idea. There was something about Shepard that the Reapers feared, and the Illusive Man didn’t want to risk losing that intrinsic intangible, whatever it was.
That left Miranda in the unenviable position of trying to find some other way to convince that paragon of virtue to do what would certainly need to be done in the next few weeks, no matter how unsavory. The Illusive Man had every confidence in her ability to succeed, of course. She was the perfect agent, just as she’d been the perfect daughter before that. Her father had spent countless fortunes to make her what she was, and the Illusive Man had done essentially the same thing by granting her endless resources to manage Project Lazarus. The pretense that she was a professional, collected, idealized tool wore at her, and she took joy in rebelling against that role. When living in her father’s mansion, she ran away to Cerberus. While with Cerberus, she became more debased.
Miranda stepped up to a recessed doorway, flashing a quick set of handsigns to the Krogan guarding the door. He grunted and pushed the door open for her. She stepped inside and the chaos of the club swept over her; the typical set of Asari strippers worked the poles along with a handful of human women and even a Taurian female. Miranda slipped through the press, spotting an open back room and letting herself in. It was little more than a dingy box, hardly more than a few feet across, the only notable feature being the waist-high hole in the wall. She closed the door behind her and brought up her omnitool. The room was clean of bugs, but she swept three more times to be sure. Paranoia satisfied, she released the seals of her mask and stripped out of the suit efficiently. The air was deliciously chill against her bare skin as she knelt to take her position before the hole. It wouldn’t be long before a customer came along; that was one of the reasons she liked this club. She heard voices from the other side of the wall and moistened her lips in anticipation, but the words froze her instantly.
“All right Shepard, you ready for this?”
* * *
Shepard eyed the hole in the wall, then glanced back at Jacob uncertainly. “You’re serious.”
“I am,” the other man nodded. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had your cock sucked before.” Shepard still didn’t look convinced, and Jacob turned to the third man. “Garrus, come on. Explain it to the man.”
“Sorry,” the Taurian answered. “Never really got the appeal myself. Of course, my genitals are covered in a layer of plating, and, well…” he bared his needle-like teeth. “Let’s just say this particular activity wouldn’t work well with my people.”
“Plus your semen is probably toxic to whoever’s on the other side of that wall,” Shepard added.
“You’re no help at all,” Jacob sighed. “Look, Shepard…you work hard, you play hard. And nobody’s working harder than you. After everything we went through getting this guy here out of Omega, we deserve some R&R. I was in the Alliance, I know what soldiers do in their downtime. Come on. When was the last time you got off?”
Shepard laughed. “I can handle myself.”
“I don’t mean when was the last time you jacked it, I meant ‘when was the last time you touched another person without trying to kill them?’ You’ve got to clear your head from time to time.” Jacob shrugged. “All right, look. I’ll go first.” Shepard turned away as the other man undid his pants. “Come on, I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Not bad, for a human.” Garrus observed. Shepard turned back with a sigh and saw Garrus was right; Jacob’s cock was already firming, and Shepard guessed it was as long as his hand.
“Now watch this. Place is full service.” Jacob sidled up to the wall, fitting his cock into the hole. Nothing happened for a moment, and he slapped his palm against the wall. His back went rigid for a moment and a grin spread across his face. “Yeah, like that.” He pressed his hips against the wall and demanded, “All the way in. Suck me down.”
Shepard had done a lot of things in his life, but even as he scratched at the memories of drunken shore leaves he couldn’t remember ever watching another man get off. Jacob’s obvious enjoyment and the slick wet sounds from behind the wall were inspiring an impressively powerful erection. He watched Jacob hump against the wall, eyes closed as his pleasure caught. He grunted once, twice, and sagged. “Clean me up?” he asked. A moment later he stepped back from the wall, tucking himself back in. “All right, your turn.”
* * *
Miranda wiped the last of Jacob’s spending from her lips. She leaned forward on her knees, outlandishly curious. Would Shepard step up? What would he think if he knew whose lips were wrapped around his cock?
There was a rustle of fabric from the other side of the wall before slowly, tentatively, the head of his penis pushed through the hole. She’d seen him naked countless times before as part of her duties for Project Lazarus, though honestly she hadn’t made anything more than a clinical appraisal at the time. Now that her attentions were properly focused her eyebrows raised in frank appreciation; he cock was thick and long enough to be challenging. She tilted her head to the side, examining his length. No one could ever say that she didn’t do fine work.
Shepard’s cock twitched in time with his pulse, and Miranda crouched down and licked from the root to the head in a single, slow motion. The moan from the other side was all she needed to hear and she took his cock in his mouth, allowing her slow bobbing motions to slide the ridge of the head across her lips.
“Looks like you’re warming to the idea, Shepard,” Jacob said. Miranda pulled back, fisting slickness up and down his cock. Maybe Shepard wasn’t the paragon she’d assumed. There was an urgency, a hunger in his grunts that hinted at something dark and powerful within him. Maybe she didn’t need a control chip at all. Maybe there was another Shepard in there that just needed some encouragement. Experimentally she pushed back on his cock until just the head was visible past the wall, then closed her lips around him. She was so close to the wall that her nose brushed against it, and she pressed her palms flat against the wall to brace herself. His move.
He began slowly, playing the head of his cock against her tongue. When she didn’t pull away he began thrusting more boldly. There was nothing but Shepard: his taste, his smell, his forcefulness. The tenor of his groans shifted and he pressed more deeply, bumping against the back of her throat. Miranda took a deep breath through her nose as Shepard fucked her throat in earnest. One stroke, four, a dozen, everything was a blur of sensation as his cock became the center of her awareness.
Only when she felt his cock begin to spasm did she pull back. Shepard let out an unintelligible cry of frustration, slamming his hips against the wall, and Miranda gripped the base of his cock hard. She found the proper spots and squeezed, hearing him gasp. With her other hand she stroked his length, letting her tongue dance across the head. His cock was quivering, and Miranda allowed herself a wicked grin as she let go.
Shepard came with a bellow, hot come jetting out. A splash caught her across the eyebrow and forehead, across her cheek, another down her chin and dripped down across her breast. Miranda took his softening cock in her mouth, tasting him as he shuddered the last of his orgasm against her tongue.
“There now,” Jacob said as Shepard’s cock disappeared back through the hole. “Aren’t you glad you did that?” Shepard’s response was unintelligible, but Miranda could guess what he’d said. She’d been short-sighted, she realized, relying on technology as a control when behavioral methods were so readily available and…pleasant.
Miranda collected Shepard’s come, licking her fingers clean. How do you like your perfect agent now? she thought ruefully.
“Next time,” Jacob answered.
“Sounded to me like you didn’t need the drink to help,” Garrus nodded. “Anyone who has that much noise pent up in them needs to unwind more often.”
Shepard began to respond, but paused with a frown. Across the bar a Quarian was watching him, her expression unreadable behind the mask of her environmental suit. She was gone in a moment, and Shepard settled back to his drink. “Maybe I should start seeing someone,” he mused.