wherever the tradewinds take me

spicyshimmy:

kassafrassa:

kaidan wearing shep’s n7 hoodie always does things to my heart

and i like to think that he pushes the sleeves up when he wears it because i feel like he’s the kind of person who kind of does that automatically

post-game because they deserve a happy ending goddamn fuck

sharpie/copic liner/old-as-fuck coffee on index card again

all the happy endings. all of them. 

Shepard’s seen Kaidan roll the sleeves up on his Alliance blues so many times, he’s lost count. But it’s different in the morning, different when all he’s wearing used to be all Shepard’s, and another thing Shepard’s used to is marking those important distinctions every day.

That’s all change is. Saying good morning to somebody when the morning comes; waking up on his pillow instead of your own, smelling him on your favorite hoodie and feeling the folds he left in the fabric when you roll it down.

Shepard’s seen Kaidan roll the sleeves up on his Alliance blues so many times—and he’s never thought about it this deeply. 

Morning does crazy things to a guy. 

So does happiness. 

So does the view of English Bay—where all the way down on earth there’s a backyard, a garden, vegetables starting to grow in the springtime, real dirt under Shepard’s fingernails, the sun on the back of his neck and the start of an idea in the back of his mind: you know, I could get used to this. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not this year. But soon. Someday. The pins in his knee make it hard to bend but not impossible; he can own that ache, Kaidan rubbing it at night, before his thumb slides higher, up the inside of Shepard’s thigh. 

Yeah. Shepard could get used to this. 

He doesn’t know how to say it yet, but it’s coming. 

Shepard’s seen Kaidan roll the sleeves up on his Alliance blues so many times that when his fingers move up Shepard’s bare arm, he feels it in his gut. Not in the pins in his knee, the old scars, but first in his chest and then in his belly. 

‘It suits you,’ Kaidan says, right against his mouth, rubbing the sunburn beneath Shepard’s hairline. 

Shepard tugs a rolled-up sleeve, knuckles brushing Kaidan’s elbow. ‘You know, Kaidan,’ he replies, ‘that’s exactly what I was about to say.’