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Winging It

Summary:

She was so perfect, and he was so damn lucky.

"Well then, let's get lost. Together."

In which a human cafe owner and a turian C-Sec officer wing their second date, and make it work despite their differences.

(Briefly titled 'Date Night')

Notes:

(Briefly titled 'Date Night')

Submission for a writing contest. Must be between 1k-5k words and contain no explicit content.

Prompt: You managed to get a second date with the perfect girl, but now she wants you to surprise her with something "adventurous." You have no idea what that means, though.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The Citadel was more than just the seat of galactic power; it was its beating heart. Its very soul. Full of wonders to satiate desires both subtle and gross, and dangers to match. A person could spend their whole life there and still find something new within its sprawling wards. 

Just pick a direction and walk; you never know what you might find. Your new favourite bar, rumbling to the beat of an old Earth classic. Maybe an alien restaurant, serving food your poor human tongue couldn't possibly pronounce, but which delighted the taste buds in strange new ways.

Or maybe even that special someone, all sharply dressed in her C-Sec uniform as she'd marched into his little cafe one day, with amber eyes that seemed to burn in the low light, and a husky, flanging voice that sent shivers down his spine. 

"I had a good time yesterday. Dinner was lovely; you picked the restaurant well", she'd complimented, before her mandibles had twitched in amusement, a devious glimmer in her cat-like eyes. "But I expect something a little more adventurous next time, Kieran."

Cinta Vitalienus. Veteran of five years at C-Sec and a regular at his humble cafe down in the wards. She'd reached over for her coffee, her fingers brushing over his, and in that moment, as the hustle and bustle of the Citadel had faded into the background, her height advantage had never been more obvious. Nor more attractive. 

God, he was pathetic. One date, and Kieran McLennan was already putty in her hands. Was this who he was now? Had he always had a thing for tall women who could crush his head between their thighs? Or was it Cinta specifically that left him weak in the knees?

Kieran sighed, glancing down at his omnitool for the umpteenth time since he'd arrived on the Presidium. The crowd flowed around him; humans, asari, salarians, and turians, dressed to the nines in suave suits, flowing gowns, and tailored uniforms. All rushing to get somewhere or do something well above his pay grade. He might've felt out of place in his button-up shirt and dark jeans had any of them bothered to give him even a momentary glance.

He owned a cafe in the Zakera Wards, for goodness sake. Brewed tea and coffee for blue-collar workers, tired C-Sec officers, and the occasional businessman, served delightful little cakes just like the ones his grandma used to make-- god rest her soul-- and went out of his way to ensure the place was pleasant. Welcoming. None of that corporate bullshit. Calm, relaxing, humble, like those little family-owned cafes you used to find back on Earth.

The Presidium sure as hell wasn't humble. Lush, vibrant parklands surrounded him, with glistening freshwater lakes, and an entire artificial sky that apparently went through its own day-night cycle. There was even a fake breeze tickling at his short beard, and messing with the neat hairstyle he'd spent an hour working on. You didn't get frilly amenities like that down in the wards. 

Pretentious nonsense.

Nervous energy prickled at his skin. A glance at his omnitool confirmed Cinta still hadn't messaged him, and that she was late. Very late. Not uncommon given her line of work; C-Sec ran by strict schedules, sure, but even for the average beat cop, the work was long, hard, dangerous, and wrapped up in mountains of paperwork. That doubled for Cinta, who'd worked her way up to the rank of sergeant over the years.

Keiran's stomach churned, and he fiddled with his omnitool, biting his lip as he skimmed through the Citadel news networks. Even in the months before their first date, when they'd just been barista and customer, grumbling about life over coffee at the crack of dawn, Cinta had never been able to maintain a consistent out-of-work schedule. Sure, she'd visited almost every day, and he'd memorised her favourite order to a tee-- bacon roll, nice and crispy, coffee as black as it came, and a sweet cake to take to work, all dextro-amino friendly, of course-- but he could never quite guess when she'd turn up. 

And it ate away at him, especially now they were on the cusp of becoming a real couple.

"Excuse me", a deep, flanging voice barked, and Kieran jolted out of his seat, almost crashing into the two C-Sec officers who'd somehow snuck up on him. A turian and an asari, the latter with her hand resting near her baton. Neither looked particularly impressed. "We've gotten reports of a human glaring at turians for about an hour now. What exactly are you doing here?" the turian pressed.

Glaring? He'd been trying to spot Cinta in the crowd. 

Kieran cocked his head. "Uh... sitting? Waiting for someone? Isn't that obvious?"

"On the Presidium?" Irritation oozed out of the turian’s every word. Narrow, predatory eyes roamed over Kieran. "I sincerely doubt that, sir. You seem rather out of place."

"Are you homeless?" the asari drawled, tapping her baton impatiently. "You know the human shelters are down in the lower wards? You're not going to get a free meal up here."

"H-homeless?" Kieran gaped, looking down at himself. These were his best clothes; brought on a tight budget, admittedly, but new, freshly cleaned, and ironed. He'd even gotten a second opinion from Aulbius-- a turian he employed at the cafe--, and he'd agreed that the look was sleek and stylish, something any warm-blooded turian would eat up. Was it the beard? It was his normal look, maybe a little scruffy around the edges, but he'd taken the time to neaten it up as best he could.

The turian officer took Kieran’s distraction as an invitation to step into his personal space, pushing him back against the seat. "Are you drunk? I smell something off on you."

"That's cologne, you fucking idiot!" Kieran snapped back.

There was a sharp crack as the asari officer flicked out her baton. "Don't get aggressive with us! Lower your voice, or we'll run you in!"

Kieran stumbled back into the seat, swearing as both officers went for his arms. What the hell was going on?

"What the hell is going on?"

Kieran spotted a flash of green, and the deep purple markings of a blessedly familiar turian, and relief washed over him. 

Cinta Vitalienus stormed into the fray like a hurricane. Even out of uniform, her years of experience commanded respect, and the two officers scrambled to make themselves presentable, throwing up hasty salutes as she planted herself before Kieran. Cinta spared him a glance, warmth smouldering in her eyes, and Kieran couldn't stop a dopey smile from crossing his lips. God, she was beautiful.

"Sergeant Vitalenus! We've had reports of a homeless man skulking around outside C-Sec headquarters. We were just, uh, doing a wellness check!" the asari officer answered, struggling to ram her baton back into her belt.

"A homeless man?" Amusement danced in Cinta's flanging voice, and she ran an appreciative gaze over Kieran’s body. "I don't see it. He looks rather clean-cut, actually. Casual, but very sharp. Debonair even."

Kieran grinned. "You're looking pretty good yourself, Sergeant."

And she did. Cinta was a colony girl, and the vibrant purple tattoos of her homeworld had always set her apart from other turians. Two thin lines swept down from her nose and over her mandibles, like paint marks sweeping across a cheek. The main attraction, however, was the thick line of purple that flowed from one tip of her upper faceplate to the other, arcing over her eyes in such a way that it gave Kieran the impression she was wearing eye shadow. She'd laughed when he'd mentioned it on their first date, wiggling her brows and teasingly asking, "Do I wear it better than your human women?".

Oh yes. Better. Much better.

Then there was her outfit. He'd never seen a turian outside of their hard-shelled full-body suits-- the nature of their carapace made softer clothes difficult to wear without constant tearing-- but Cinta had found a soft, flowing tunic to wear over the top of hers, and it made all the difference. It gave the impression she was wearing a dress, the intricately patterned edges tapering out towards her knees. That it was also a lush, deep green... well, as a born and bred Irishman, he couldn't help but feel a little biased towards the colour. Had she picked it purposefully?

"Charmer", Cinta hummed, before turning her gaze-- and wrath-- back upon her subordinates. The turian officer stood a few inches taller, but even he quailed beneath her gaze. "This man is my friend and a respected proprietor. Even if he was homeless, we don't perform wellness checks at the business end of a baton, Officer Keros."

The asari blanched. "But Sergeant, he was being aggressi-"

"If you can't handle a citizen exercising their freedom of speech, this line of work isn't for you." Cinta's hard glare fell upon the turian officer. "As for you, Officer Velidos, you've been out of the academy for a week, yet your inability to work respectfully with human C-Sec officers has already been raised several times. I trust this was a simple misunderstanding, and not targeted harassment again." 

The turian jutted out his jaw defiantly. "We had reports that this human was glaring at every turian that passed by, Sergeant. I'd say that falls under targeted harassment. I had no choice but to investigate before the situation got out of control."

"Out of control? He's waiting for me, fool! What situation did you anticipate that would require..." Cinta caught herself, sighing as she rubbed her brow. She sounded exhausted. "This was targeted harassment. I should drag you both before the precinct captain right now."

"Cinta." Kieran reached out, resting a gentle hand on her arm. Her bright eyes flicked back to him, and he smiled. "It's okay."

"But-"

"I know, but I just want to get on with my day. I do have a date with a very pretty turian girl, after all."

Cinta's mandibles fluttered, and Kieran was sure she'd be blushing if turians could. "Well, lucky her", she rather smoothly recovered, squeezing his hand with her own. It was a firm, scaly sensation, her fingers calloused from years of service, but softer than he'd once imagined from a turian. Warm too. It left goosebumps prickling across his softer skin as she reluctantly pulled away, fixing one last glare on the pair of officers. "Get out of here, both of you. I expect you to report this incident to your superiors accurately. If you don't, I will, and the consequences will be much more severe."

The asari officer snapped a hasty salute before bolting off, looking more relieved than anything. The turian lingered a moment longer, fixing Kieran with a hateful glare, until he too buckled under Cinta's oppressive presence, muttering something about humans as he stormed off.

Miserable cunt. He could stew in his xenophobia for all Kieran cared.

Cinta sighed, visibly deflating as she flopped down into the seat. "I'm sorry about that."

"Not your fault." Kieran slipped his hand back into hers, running a finger along her knuckles. "New cadets?"

"What gave it away?"

"Well, they seemed rather... enthusiastic." That was putting it diplomatically. He was definitely going to have bruises in the morning.

"Keros recently transferred from a private security agency. I don't think she understands that C-Sec doesn't have arrest quotas like they do on Illium", Cinta grumbled, spitting out the word 'quotas' as though it had burnt her tongue. "And Velidos' family fought on Shanxi."

"Ah."

"Yeah." Cinta hummed, leaning into Kieran and closing her eyes. "Forget about them, I want to enjoy what's left of my day. I'm sorry if my late arrival has ruined our date plans, though. Duty called."

"It's fine, though I was starting to get a bit worried. Everything okay?"

"It was. I was actually set to leave on time for once." Cinta groaned, staring up at the artificial sky. "Then someone called in about a suspicious bag that had been left by one of the docking bays, and obviously, I had to attend. We had to cordone off the whole bay for two hours while we waited for the bomb squad to check it out."

Kieran raised an eyebrow. "Really? That didn’t come up on the news.”

Cinta looked at him, exposing her sharp teeth in a turian's version of a grin. "That's because it turned out some old volus woman had just forgotten her groceries. The most dangerous thing in that bag was a cheap ready meal lasagna."

"So I guess my plan for a romantic Italian dinner is a bust then?" Kieran teased, grinning as Cinta shot him a half-hearted glare.

"Was that your plan? I didn't know there were any dextro-friendly Italian restaurants on the Citadel."

"There aren’t, sadly. And it wasn't." Kieran leaned in, his grin widening. "Thought I might wing it, actually."

"Wing it?"

"Yeah. It's a human phrase; it means-"

"I know what it means, Kieran." She stared at him, uncertainty playing out across her face. "So... you really had no plan for tonight?"

Oh god, she hated the idea. She definitely hated it. He needed to save this now.

"No, no, I have a plan!" he stammered, waving his hands about. "I thought you might want to try something different, more casual. So, what if we just picked a direction and went with the flow? No reservations, no schedules, no timetables to stick to like with C-Sec; just you and me, exploring the Citadel, together. A humble little adventure of our own." 

Amber eyes stared deeply into his blue, and it was in the quieter moments such as these that Kieran truly appreciated just how different Cinta was. He couldn't read her expression at all. Did she love the idea? Hate it? Did she think he was taking the piss? Was it a faux pas in turian culture to turn up to a date without a step-by-step itinerary for the evening?

Jesus, she was really staring into his soul. Definitely a faux pas. Nice work, Kieran, you blew it, you dumb fucking inbred-

"So… I didn't ruin our date then?" Cinta whispered so softly it barely reached his ears over the Presidium’s fake breeze. It was enough to bring his panicked thoughts to a screeching halt. "This isn't the first date I've been late to. I'm always flaking out of movie screenings or rushing out of restaurants to answer calls", she continued, suddenly unable to meet his gaze, staring down at her lap as she wrung her hands together. "I love my job, but it makes my private life so difficult sometimes. I'm always on duty, and everyone gets tired of it eventually. But you-- us, I mean-- I wanted it to be different. Special. You're not just some guy I met at work or in a club; you're my best friend, and I wanted this to work out. And I called in all the favours I could, just to make sure there'd be no interruptions today." Cinta snarled, as much out of exhaustion as frustration. "And still it wasn't enough. It never is."

Oh. So that's what had been bothering her.

Warmth spread through Kieran's chest, and that stupid, dopey smile threatened to worm its way back on his lips. God, she was perfect. Just perfect.

"Cinta, you didn't ruin anything. C’mere." Kieran drew Cinta into an embrace. It was the first real hug they'd shared in public, and he felt her jolt in his arms, her sharp exhale leaving goosebumps prickling across his cheek. Gradually, though, she relaxed, moulding herself into the embrace with a weary sigh, one hand roaming up the length of his spine. Her other hand found his, and their fingers weaved together, neither turian nor human paying any mind to the stares they got from the Citadel's elite. 

"I want this to work too”, Kieran continued. “I don't care how we spend time together, just that we do. If working around your schedule means we have to order greasy takeaways and watch trashy rom-coms instead of going out, then that's what we'll do. We'll make it work."

"Such a romantic", Cinta teased.

"I aim to please”, he chuckled, running his hand along the back of her head, where the carapace was softer. He felt Cinta shiver against him, dipping her face into the crook of his neck to hide what was so obviously a moan. Kieran couldn’t resist smirking; who was putty in whose hand now? "Little sensitive back there? Wonder what other soft spots you turians ha- fuck!"

Cinta grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked his head back. "Not in public", she hissed, though her narrowed eyes and breathless tone betrayed her excitement. Kieran grinned through the pain, and she mirrored him, her hot breath tickling his earlobe as she darted in to nip at it. "Save the friskiness for next time, when we're alone and better prepared. Wouldn't want you going into anaphylactic shock because I shoved my tongue down your throat before either of us took our immunosuppressants, would we?"

Well, when she put it like that...

"Yes, Sergeant." Kieran gave her a mock salute. "Good to know I've earned a third date."

Cinta hummed, loosening her grip on his hair. "Only if you show me a good time. You still owe me something adventurous~."

"So you're okay with us winging it?"

"Yeah, sounds like fun", Cinta said, fixing up the damage she'd done to his hairstyle as she spoke. "I've had enough rushing about to meet timetables for one day. Let's wing it."

Kieran leapt to his feet, holding his hand out for Cinta like a proper gentleman. Calloused fingers threaded through his softer ones as she joined him, and he grinned widely, staring up at his turian date. Cinta only had a few inches on him in truth, but god damn did that make all the difference.

She was so perfect, and he was so damn lucky.

"Well then, let's get lost. Together."


 

Cinta, as it turned out, was dreadful at getting lost. They’d barely left the Presidium before she’d taken Kieran by the hand, dragging him towards the skycar terminals with a twinkle in her eyes. He'd made to protest, but she'd silenced him with a gentle finger to the lips. “You share your cafe with me every day, but you never truly get to see my life at C-Sec”, she said, ushering him into the skycar. “Let me share a small piece of that life with you now.”

That small piece was a quaint little suburb in Kithoi Ward. Home to mostly asari, the two of them stuck out like sore thumbs, but Cinta guided him through the tight, winding streets with a surprising familiarity, a grin on her mandibles and a spring in her step. And it was beautiful. Unlike the pretentious gaudiness of the Presidium, or the commercial flashiness of Zakera, Kithoi was alive with soft, warm colour. Shops and public buildings were decorated with hand-drawn art and large, fluttering flags, and the boulevards were lined with trees that reminded him of cherry blossoms, pale-pink petals fluttering above them. For all their faults, the asari had a passion for art and culture that Kieran couldn't help but admire.

"Kithoi was my first posting as a C-Sec officer", Cinta revealed, following the petals overhead with an almost reverent gaze. "I walked along this high street every day while I was learning the ropes. So little of it has changed; it feels like stepping into a memory."

"It's very beautiful. Must have been pretty peaceful down here."

Cinta laughed. "You'd be surprised. The asari can get pretty wild, especially when they're packed this closely together."

Her point was proven when they reached Edroki Plaza, where the residents were throwing an impromptu festival. And it was chaos; fireworks exploding overhead, banners and balloons flying everywhere, the stench of booze and some strange manner of drug choking the air, and throngs of people dancing to an asari band so absolutely plastered that they couldn't hope to play anything even remotely resembling music. They might as well have been cavemen smashing sticks and stones together for all the good it was doing for Kieran's poor ears.

He barely heard Cinta's sigh over the din. "This again..."

"What are they celebrating?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? They seem pretty damn happy for nothing."

"Had this all the time back when I was here. Some charitable soul's been passing around narcotics, and the asari go crazy with this stuff sometimes. Never figured out where they were coming from, and every time C-Sec tried to crack down on it, the asari would complain to their local representatives that we were 'obstructing their cultural rights'." A warm smile crossed Cinta's mandibles despite her complaints. "They aren't hurting anyone. It's all fairly low-grade stuff, and they're responsible with who they hand it out to, so we just leave them be these days. Bigger fish to fry, as you humans say."

Kieran hummed, watching the crowd laugh, dance, and pulse to that godawful, skull-rattling beat.

An impish grin crossed his lips. "We should join them."

"Kieran! I'm not getting high on a date!"

"Nah, nothing like that." He took Cinta's hand and brought it to his lips, planting a kiss on her knuckles. "Care for a dance, my lady?"

"Such a gentleman!" Cinta giggled, and the sound sent his heart aflutter. She pulled him in close, pressing her forehead to his, her amber eyes ablaze in the low light. "Fine, but it’s your funeral. I'm a terrible dancer."

"So am I." Kieran laughed and drew her into the crowd. 

And they danced terribly, completely out of sync, like two pairs of left feet struggling to not trip over themselves, let alone each other. It was a horrendously embarrassing display, but neither could bring themselves to care. Fuck it, they deserved to be a little cringe for once. 

Not like the band was any better anyway.

And as evening bled into night, and the mad, impromptu festival began to peter out aroundthem, Cinta laid her head to rest against his shoulder and sighed. "Let's find somewhere a little quieter."

Strangely enough, that made Kieran's heart race more than anything else that evening.


 

They settled on a quaint little park near the outskirts of the suburb. Nothing overtly grandiose; just a few square miles of greenery with a pond at its centre, and a grove of blue-leaved trees perched atop a small hill. Calm, relaxing, humble. 

Kieran slumped beneath the shade of a tree with a tired grunt, and Cinta joined him, resting on her knees. A nostalgic look clouded her eyes, and she leaned into him, her hand coming to rest on his lap. Kieran's fingers slipped into hers without a second thought.

"I never get to see places like this anymore", she broke the silence, running her fingers through the grass beneath them. “Not as a sergeant, anyway. If I'm not stuck behind the desk, I'm out handling complaints, training cocky recruits, or fighting the worst scum the Citadel has to offer. I'm always on duty."

She turned to him, smiling freely. "Your cafe brings this all back to me. For a few moments every morning, I can just relax and pretend I’m that young officer again, fresh out of the academy, making her rounds in a community that truly knows me. That my life isn't all work, all duty. And it's all thanks to you." She nuzzled herself into Kieran’s neck, a wistful sigh slipping past her mandibles. "To think how different my life might've been had I not given coffee one last chance."

Kieran blinked. "You didn't like coffee? You chug that black shit down like it's your last day alive sometimes."

"That 'black shit' is heavenly. Really wakes me up."

"I bet it does", Kieran snorted. "Never could stand the bitter stuff myself."

"It's better than the lukewarm crap you get from the C-Sec vending machines, and I'd take it any day over the fake, overly sweet stuff the corporate chains sell." Cinta clicked her tongue. "I’m not a morning person. I had trouble adapting to the earlier shifts after my promotion. Nodding off during meetings, forgetting where my new desk was, deferring to officers who were now my subordinates; embarrassing mistakes like that for weeks on end. Everyone swore that coffee was the answer, but I couldn't stomach the stuff. I was just about ready to give up, but then…” A mischievous grin crossed her mandibles. "Then I saw you out of the corner of my eye, serving a turian family with a genuine smile, and laughing at something one of their kids said, and I thought 'oh, go on then, one more try'."

"The kid was actually making fun of my beard", Kieran huffed, shaking his head. "Asked if I needed an ambulance because of the 'strange growth' on my face, cheeky little bastard."

"It is very strange having hair grow there”, Cinta teased. “Or anywhere, if I'm being honest."

"No, it isn't! It's perfectly natural for humans to be hairy."

"And humans are themselves very strange."

Kieran scoffed. "Oh, like you turians can talk. Bloody overgrown space chicken.”

Cinta burst out laughing, and he couldn’t help but join her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and Kieran let himself get dragged down into the grass, grinning like an idiot. What a pair of fools they must have seemed, giggling in the dirt. 

Cinta pressed her forehead to his, their warm breath mingling between them, and the laughter slowly trailed off, replaced by something altogether different. Heavier. Kieran was keenly aware of how heavily his heart was pounding.

"You are so warm, so soft", she purred, her fingers combing through his prickly beard, before trailing down towards his mouth. Her touch was almost reverent as she ran her thumb along the length of his lips, tracing every imperfection, and Kieran gasped, transfixed by the smouldering warmth in her eyes. "I love that about you."

This was it. Now or never, Kieran.

“I’m glad you found my cafe too, you know?” he whispered, tracing her markings in the same way she'd traced his lips. Her cat-like eyes darted across his face as he spoke, greedily drinking every inch of him in. “I loved working there at the start, but fuck me if it wasn’t lonely sometimes. I don’t have any family on the Citadel-- hell, aside from my old mum back in Ireland, I don’t have any family, period-- and there’s few people here I can truly call friends. The passion was dying on me, if I’m being honest… until you came sauntering into my life."

Kieran.” Cinta’s eyes widened, and the way she uttered his name so breathlessly, so longingly, sent his heart aflutter.

“Cinta, you’re so amazing, so beautiful. Just perfect.” It felt as though his heart was going to explode, the pace at which it was rattling within his chest. Kieran had to pause; both to take in a deep, shuddering breath, and steel himself for what came next. What he'd wanted to say for months. “I want more of this, more of us. Cinta… I..." 

Christ man, get it out before your heart packs in, would you?

"... Will you be my girlfriend?”

He felt so dizzy, so tight-chested, he might faint, but seeing Cinta’s eyes light up, and her mandibles break into a wide, toothy grin… well, that made it all worth it.

“Spirits above, I wasn’t expecting you to be so damn formal, but yes! Yes, damn it!” she laughed, grabbing him by the shoulders. He expected another embrace, but she flipped the script on him-- literally-- pushing him onto his back and hiking one leg over his waist, trapping him beneath her. A ravenous look burned in her eyes. “Now kiss me like you humans do!”

Don't ingest! Don't ingest! For the love of god, don't ingest!

Kieran slipped a hand behind Cinta's head, and she let him guide her in. It was more a peck than anything, at least to start with. Soft, tentative, and very slow; slow enough for him to get used to the sensation, and for her to back out if she truly wanted to. She didn’t, thankfully, instead tilting her head to accommodate his lips.

Kissing Cinta was unlike any kiss he'd experienced before. There was little softness, little give and take as with a human kiss, but the warmth of her mouth sent shivers down his spine, and the grooves and imperfections across her mandible left his lips tingling in their wake. Mismatched though their mouths were, they pressed on, deeper and faster, passion spurring them on as their confidence grew. Cinta pressed herself into him with a breathless, needy moan, nipping and greedily sucking at his lips, her fingers digging into his hair so she could better control her angle of attack, and Kieran could do little more than hold on for the ride, rolling his tongue along her mouth and the exposed edges of her sharp teeth. God, had she always been this ravenously passionate?

After what felt like hours, Cinta broke the kiss, gasping for air. “If we keep going… I’m going to do something incredibly stupid… and we’ll both end up in hospital.”

“I’m buying those immunosuppressants tomorrow”, Kieran growled, darting forward to nip and suck at her soft neck, his mind a foggy mess.

Cinta moaned. “S-spirits! I see why humans love kissing so much. Those lips of yours are wonderful.

“You haven’t seen anything yet”, Kieran chuckled, wiggling his brows suggestively. “Give me and my wonderful lips one night, and I’ll have you singing for all the Citadel to hear.”

Cinta laughed breathlessly, pressing her forehead to Kieran's. Her eyes burned with lustful promise. “Then I look forward to a very adventurous date.”

Notes:

My first foray into Mass Effect. Always had a soft spot for turians, and the lack of any female turian romance in the original trilogy was disappointing.

And yes, I am teasing a smutty sequel/second chapter, which I may write further down the line if I find the motivation. The contest had a strict 'no explicit content' rule, so this is all you're getting for now.

I feel both the prompt and the story got away from me a little on this one, but I'm relatively happy with the end product. If there hadn't been a limit of 5000 words, I probably could have smoothed it out a little more, though I also probably wouldn't have finished on time if I'd been allowed more words. This took a solid week to churn out, and I barely made it on time.

Regardless, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed.