He's a Pretty Fly Guy

The final piece of my Steve Cortez Week fic. Read it all at once on AO3, or you can go back through the posts which are linked at the bottom of this post.

Thanks for all the likes and reblogs!! 

Special thanks to @hotstuffcortez for hosting Steve Week! I thoroughly enjoyed it! 

Pairing: Steve Cortez/Male Shepard

Rating: T

It’s been five years, and Shepard still looks as good as ever. That brilliant smile and those lustrous eyes still take Steve’s breath away.

They’d found this little wedding chapel tucked away in Ireland’s northwest region, protected from Reaper beams by its remoteness. The ruins of an old castle remain, crumbled, covered in moss and vines, and hauntingly beautiful. The whole area is full of lakes, river, mountains, and ruins for them to explore, but Steve suspects they won’t get to see much of all that. Not on this trip anyway.

For this trip, he wants Shepard all to himself. Wants to spend his days and nights wrapped up in John’s strong arms, feel those softer-than-ever lips pressed against him everywhere at once. He wants to feel like they’re the only two people in the universe.

The years have brought them joy and pain, successes and failures, but through it all, they’ve risen to stand together, stronger than before. They’ve both learned never to take one moment for granted.

They only have eyes for each other as they say their vows, promising each other everything they have for the rest of their lives. They’ve been through enough hell to last two lifetimes, so they both want their time together to last as long as humanly possible. Their friends whistle and cat-call and cheer when they kiss each other, and Steve will admit that he’d be completely willing to skip the reception and head straight for the honeymoon sweet at the inn. But the guests are staying too, and he knows that they’d never find a moment’s peace if they slipped out now.

So they eat and dance and kiss each other every chance they’re given, and when the time comes for them to take their leave, they do so eagerly, not caring about the second round of cat-calls and whistles and James Vega’s war whoops that chase them all the way back to their room.

Inside, they take their time, removing each other’s suits and mapping each other’s bodies as if it was the very first time they’d ever done so. Tears of joy glisten in both their eyes as they move toward the bed in silent agreement.

“I love you,” Shepard murmurs, lips pressed lightly against his husband’s throat.

Steve holds him tight, thankful for this day, for this time they’ve been given, for this second chance at finding love and happiness. “I love you, too,” he murmurs, heart so full of bliss that there is no more room for guilt.

Written for Steve Cortez Week 

Pairing: Steve Cortez/Male Shepard

Rating: T

Steve holds onto hope. It’s the only thing he has, and it has to be enough. The days and weeks are long and hard, but Major Alenko keeps the crew together - almost as well as Shepard had. They all try their best, wanting to make their Commander proud, needing the distraction of getting home to take their minds off their losses.

James brings him a bottle of mescal and they drink it together, chatting late into the night. Steve talks, telling James things the younger man probably wishes he hadn’t, but he needs someone to know, in case…. In case….

He can’t let himself think about what ifs.  Losing Robert was hard enough. Losing John might very well be the end of him. Vega convinces him to hang onto his hope, so he does. And the next day, he fights off one hell of a hangover.

Shepard is alive, barely clinging to life in the basement of an old hospital. The upper floors have been decimated, but the Alliance has made the best use possible of the first three floors and the basement. The high-profile cases are kept down there, away from the public’s prying eyes.

Written for Steve Cortez Week

Pairing: Steve Cortez/Male Shepard

Rating: T

The last few days have been like heaven. Shepard has been given an enormous, luxury apartment by Admiral Anderson, and Steve has been spending as much time there as the Commander will allow. It’s a considerable amount.

Even on shore leave, Shepard isn’t content to sit and relax for long periods of time. He divides his time between crew members and friends, visiting with them on different occasions. Steve can see that it does everyone good, even John - maybe especially John.

When he’s home, though, Steve has his undivided attention, and there’s something incredibly special about that. He’d forgotten how nice it was to have someone to share a life with. And maybe it’s too soon to start thinking of this as a permanent thing, but if the way Shepard gazes into his eyes while they’re making love is any indication, then maybe his thoughts are trekking along the same lines.

At any rate, neither of them can seem to get enough of each other, and Steve isn’t surprised, when Shepard mentions it to him one night. They’re curled up in front of the fireplace, mesmerized by the dancing flames. Shepard’s head is pillowed on Steve’s thigh, and he’s rubbing small circles over John’s buzzed hair.

John reaches up to take Steve’s hand in his own, cradling it against his chest, just over his heart. “Can I ask you something?” he asks, turning his body to look up at his lover.

“Anything.”

“Is this… Are you okay with this - us - and… you know… how things are progressing?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Shepard sits up, resting his elbows on his knees as he gazes into the fire once more. “I just… I hope I didn’t push you into anything… too soon. I mean, it’s only been a year or so since Robert died, right? And I-”

Steve wraps and arm around Shepard’s shoulder, guiding him into a slow kiss. “John,” he says softly, forehead resting against his lover’s. “I can’t promise you that I’m over Robert,” he admits cautiously, “but I can promise you that I don’t regret this decision… to be with you. You… you’re an incredible man. One I’ve come to care for very deeply. I just… I want us to make the most of the time we have, you know?”

“Sounds like good advice,” Shepard says, leaning in for another kiss.

Written for Steve Cortez Week

Pairing: Steve Cortez/Male Shepard

Rating: M (the entire fic is not rated M, just this segment. The rest is rated T. Segment under the cut because it’s kind of NSFW)

Written for Steve Cortez Week

Pairing: Steve Cortez/Male Shepard

Rating: T

“Tonight could be even better.”

This isn’t at all what Steve had been expecting when Shepard had told him that at Purgatory. He’s willing to admit that sex had been on his mind, particularly given the way Shepard had kissed him right in the middle of the dance floor for god and everybody to see. And holy cow what a kiss. Steve’s lips still feel tingly hours later.

But this is better. Shepard had said he didn’t think a club would be to Steve’s tastes, not entirely untrue. As Steve had said, there’s something to appreciate everywhere one goes. The eye candy, for one. Though Shepard is the only eye candy in sight now – not that Steve’s complaining. John Shepard is definitely easy on the eyes.

“So Spectre authority gets you on top of the Presidium, huh?”

“Nah… not giving a damn about the rules gets you on top of the Presidium,” Shepard grins and it’s contagious. “Actually, Garrus brought me up here for our ‘bro date.’ I really need to have a talk with Joker about teaching the aliens new words.”

Steve laughs so hard he doubles over.

“We had a bottle shooting contest. Garrus won, then I think he proposed to me.” Shepard’s face is dead serious, and Steve stops laughing abruptly, staring at the Commander wide-eyed. “Don’t worry, Steve. I let him down easy,” Shepard winks. “Besides, I’m not too keen on sharing.”

Shepard leans toward the pilot with a soft smile, kissing him right on the corner of his mouth. “That’s good to hear, Commander.”

“Commander is a little formal for this setting, isn’t it? Lieutenant?”

Clearing his throat, Steve agrees, smiling when Shepard sits up straighter and gazes across the scenery below. Ships drift by in silence, and this is a thousand times better than the observation deck he’d scoped out by Normandy’s docking bay. “So… marrying turians? Not your thing?”

“Nope. Have you seen those teeth of theirs? No way I’m stickin’ my dick in there.” Shepard lays back and tucks his hands behind his head admiring Widow’s gaseous clouds high above them.

“I can understand your caution,” Steve says wryly.

Rolling up on his elbow, Shepard watches the man beside him. “Besides,” he murmurs, hand reaching out to stroke Steve’s thigh, “I’ve got my eye on someone else.”

“Hmm… I wonder who that could be?”

“Steve?”

The pilot turns his eyes toward his Commander, shifting around to lie beside him. There’s a shy smile on the man’s face, lower lip caught between his teeth, and Steve wonders if he’s ever seen anything more beautiful. Shepard’s hand glides up Steve’s chest, and the pilot closes his eyes, pressing into the touch. “John,” he whispers.

“Damn, that sounds good.” Shepard leans in again, lips connecting for the softest of kisses. Steve is slow to open his eyes when John pulls away. “I don’t want to rush anything,” Shepard tells him, voice warm and tender. Steve can’t help admiring the man even more, melting into him just that much more, giving himself over to him completely.

“I don’t want to waste any more time, John. I’m ready to live again.”

So, I saw some page or another is having a Steve Cortez appreciation week and I immediately got excited because Steve Cortez is legitimately one of my favourite NPCs in the Mass Effect fandom. I wanted to write a small, post-war fic about this beautiful soul, but then life (and writer’s block) happened, so instead I want to share some headcannons that I have of our favourite gay shuttle pilot:

-Steve Cortez is a gentle soul. He is kind and caring. He would be the ultimate Paragon playthrough times a hundred.

-there is no doubt that Steve Cortez has a great deal of love and respect for Commander Shepard (whether Manshep or Femshep). S/he is the first person that he actually confided in about his husband’s death, indicating a great deal of trust in that relationship.

-for some reason, I have the idea that Steve is kind of a loner (possibly because he was a fighter pilot, and they are typically solitary types). After the Reaper war, he is the one that makes sure that all the old Normandy crew keeps in contact. He has dinner parties, get-togethers, etc.

-if Shepard dies at the end of ME3, he will be the one that checks up on her/his LI to make sure she/he is coping. He’d be the type to buy food for this person, cook some meals, help with the house cleaning as well as providing emotional support.

-if it’s a case of Femshep romancing Thane, he will comfort and support her after Thane’s death. He’d be the one saying “you can get through this, take it one step at a time”.

-he totally gets married after the war. If he’s romancing Manshep, the two of them will get married. Otherwise I envision him with a doctor (don’t ask me why).

-James Vega is Steve Cortez’s best friend, and is both his best man and the person who gives him away.

-Steve Cortez and his new husband adopt a girl orphaned by the war. Her name is Roberta (or Bob). She is raised outside of gender roles and is completely androgynous.

Written for Steve Cortez Week, hosted by @stevencortez

Pairing: Steve Cortez/Male Shepard

Rating: T

“So, Shepard,” Vega’s voice is loud and boisterous as usual, bouncing around the shuttle bay with a deafening echo. Shepard is his typical, casual self, leaning against a stack of crates while he watches his arms sergeant work. “You seeing anybody?”

Steve resists the urge to smack a palm to his face. Way to be subtle, Vega.

“Are you asking me out, lieutenant?” There’s a cheeky smile to go with the question, and Steve can’t help grinning along with him, turning his back so Shepard doesn’t pick up on his eavesdropping.

James chuckles nervously, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “Uh, no… I mean… not that you’re… that I wouldn’t… ah, shit!”

Shepard laughs a great belly laugh, clutching his stomach as he does so. “Relax, Vega,” he finally manages. “It was just a joke.”

“Heh, right.” James clears his throat. “But, uh… are you?”

“Asking for a friend, then?” Shepard laughs again. “No, James. I’m not.”

“Been awhile?”

“Probably not as long as you’re thinking. What’s going on?”

“Just, uh… trying to get to know you better.”

“Uh huh. Well, you can tell whoever put you up to this that no, I’m not seeing anyone at the moment, but yes, I have dated since my husband passed away. Does that answer all your questions?”

“Yeah, I think that’ll do it, Commander. Thanks!”

“Not a problem, though for the the record, you’re a terrible wingman.” Shepard tosses a wink at Cortez on his way back to the elevator, and Steve knows the jig is up. He hadn’t put James up to that, never mind that he’d wondered aloud about it the other night over too many shots of mescal. Living is one thing, but there’s no sense in trading one form of torture for another.

Not Once, But Twice

He woke slowly, the soft light of the new day filtering in through the open balcony doors. A gentle breeze stirred white curtains, willowy and thin, it promised perfect weather. The bed was positioned –just so- that he could see out the archway doors, endless ocean sparkling in the distance. It was breathtaking of course, but more than that it provided a frame for something else, someone else.

Shepard leaned against the railing, face turned towards the sun, eyes closed and small smile dancing along sharp features. He looked at peace, in that moment, shoulders and chest rising as he took long deep breaths. He looked happy. He looked so damn frail.

Steve had to fight for his own breath as he battled the rising flood of emotions that bubbled to the surface. Joy and lingering grief mingling, distant fear warring with present pleasure and contentment. How easily this moment might never have been. So many moments, close calls, narrow escapes, and just plain bad luck that had nearly taken Shepard from him. Yet, despite the odds stacked against them, here they were, on their honeymoon.

The war three years past, they were here, alive and together. They were happy. It was more than he ever thought he would get. A love that consumed him, a love that left him overflowing. It was a wild thing, thrilling and terrifying.

If he was being honest, Steve had never believed that he could find a love like this once, let alone twice. Robert had shown him that such a love was possible, and Shepard had shown him that it was possible to find it twice.

He rose from the bed, sheets falling to the floor and made his way softly over to Shepard. Savior of the galaxy, newly minted Admiral of the Alliance, Commander, friend and now, husband. Steve wrapped his arms around his husband’s waist and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. He was rewarded with a pleased hum and Shepard covered Steve’s hands with his own, leaning back into the embrace.

They stayed like that, holding each other, soaking up the sun and each other, content with the crashing of the waves and their shared breathing. No words were needed in moments like this, and it was one of the things Steve loved most about being with Shepard. Unspoken communication; soft touches, gentle sighs, quick or lingering kisses and heated stares.

Steve felt it in Shepard’s gaze, eyes blazing with desire. Steve felt it in the way strong hands cupped his jaw and pressed ever increasingly desperate kisses to his lips. Steve felt it in the way his own body responded, the goosebumps and heavy breathing, hard flesh pressed against Shepard’s thigh. 

All too soon, or not soon enough, they found themselves back on the bed; Shepard over him and surrounding him. This too was what he loved about his husband, the way the man gave of himself, to focus on Steve in a way no one else could.

Later they lay panting and fully sated, bodies still tingling in the afterglow. An entire morning gone and Steve couldn’t think of a better way to have spent it. The reality of the situation hit him in that moment. This was just one morning in an entire lifetime of mornings he would get to spend with Shepard.

A smile danced along his lips and he had to blink back tears. Turning to his husband, now dozing lightly at his side, he placed a gentle kiss along his brow.

“I love you, Shepard.”

Steve snuggled up nice and close, laying his head on Shepard’s chest. As he drifted off to sleep, he was still smiling.

Written for Steve Cortez Week, hosted by @stevencortez

Pairing: Steve Cortez/Male Shepard

Rating: T

He’s hiding. Alone in the shuttle, Steve sits with what’s left of that bottle of whiskey he’d taken to Shepard’s room the other night. He’s barely touched it, but it’s presence is like the comfort of an old friend. How pathetic is that?

He’d left the recording of Robert’s final words at the war memorial in the docks. Instead of sorrow over the loss, he’d felt relief. Relief has cycled into guilt once more. “Time to let go,” he’d told Shepard. “For real this time.” And he’d meant it. Saying and doing are two different things however.

He’s not the first man to lose a loved one to this war. He won’t be the last. Shepard’s husband had gone down fighting with honor. Robert had done the same. The difference is that Shepard has moved on, learned to live again. Meanwhile, Steve is still wallowing.

Goddamn it all to hell.

The door opens, and Steve’s not even surprised to look up and see Shepard watching him. His face is stoic, arms crossed over his chest. At the memorial, he’d been nothing but supportive. Now he just looks weary. Like it’s something bone deep and immovable.

“How do I move on?” Steve asks, voice weak and pitiful. Shepard’s face softens – the stark lines smoothing into a genuine smile.

“You’re already doing it, Steve. One day at a time. You’re letting go, little by little. It’s all we can do. There is no magic formula.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice if there was just a pill you could take?”

“Would it, though?”

Steve looks up, the haggardness is back in Shepard’s face. It’s evident he’s been down this road himself.

Written for Steve Cortez Week, hosted by @stevencortez

Pairing: Steve Cortez/Male Shepard

Rating: T

He’s found himself a quiet spot – well, quiet for the Citadel. He thinks about stuffing his noise canceling earphones in, but decides to forego it.

He’s invited Shepard to meet him here. Why, he’s not entirely sure. Maybe to prove to the Commander that he’s being an obedient little soldier. Maybe it’s just to have the chance to be alone with the man, if only for a moment.

Either way, he relaxes. The view of ships gliding by, sleek and shining in the the fabricated light of the space station, is a sight to behold. He forgets his troubled soul for awhile as he watches the show before him. It’s spectacular. Robert had never really understood his obsession, but he’d respected him, loved him, in spite of their differences. He hadn’t needed to understand it to appreciate this aspect of Steve’s character. Steve had loved that about him, had tried to reciprocate as much as he could.

He thinks of Robert’s smile, of his hair, his eyes. He was truly beautiful. He remembers the photo of Shepard’s husband. Steve never asked about Adam’s last name. Had he taken Shepard’s? Kept his own as Robert had? There’s something so compelling in this shared bond between them. Steve can’t help thinking of it. Not that he would wish the pain of a spouse’s death upon anyone, but he finds himself grateful that they have this common experience. It helps, more than Steve wants to admit, to see how Shepard is able to face each day without the threat of tears or being lost to memory. It helps to know he’s lived, even after Adam had died.

Steve wonders if Shepard has dated. Five years is a long time to be celibate. Well, he was dead for two of those. He cringes. Such a bizarre facet of an already intriguing man. Truthfully, he’s beyond intrigued by Shepard. He’s almost at full blown puppy love by this point.

There are a million reasons why he needs to shut this down, but he doesn’t even try. Times being what they are, it’s hard to let trivialities like regs factor into any decisions about his future. And, yes, he readily admits to himself that thinking about the future is presumptuous. For all he knows, he should be taking Shepard’s actions at face value – the response of a caring friend, a concerned commander. His heart doesn’t want to let go, however. No matter how slim the chance that Shepard means more – wants more – Steve’s heart has responded to that. He decides to ponder it awhile longer.

Shepard eventually joins him at the observation deck. It thrills Steve to discover a secret passion for ships in the Commander that rivals his own. How could it be possible that the pair of them share so many common interests and experiences? How can it be possible that Shepard is looking at him now with a smile so open, with eyes so inviting? Steve’s drowning in the look his Commander is giving him.

The guilt roars back to life just as Steve feels himself begin to let go. “I should have been there… with Robert,” he sighs.

“I’m glad you weren’t,” Shepard tells him. “You’d be dead, and we’d never have met.”

There’s conviction in his voice, a subtle hint of anger that strikes Steve. He’s right, of course. The time for guilt and wallowing is over. It’s time to say goodbye.