"This one is from a fire fight, nasty bunch of fucking vorcha. They had flamethrowers on em'. Burned through our goddamn barriers! Well, through Vidor's that is." Zaeed explained showing the scar on his shoulder underneath. "You went again didnt you?" Hackett asked after the bartender slided him his drink. "The bounty was 70k, goddamn right I went back and killed the bastards."
"Got another scar, recent too." The merc said, almost braggingly. Lifting his shirt and slightly lowering his pants, was a scar. "What? You didn't tip the Asari?" Steven said jokingly, taking a drink of his whiskey. Zaeed couldn't help but laugh at the crude joke the other man made. "Another story. Besides the lapdance was bought for me. One of those bloody vorcha survived, aparantly on a secondary blood pack HQ. Came unarmed he did, but the son of a bitch and those claws got me."
"Massani, you getting sloppy?" The marine asked smirking. "No, I wasn't wearing my goddamn armor at Purgatory. He got one in the eye and in the head though." Zaeed explained and smiled slyly saying "wanna touch?" Hackett's hold on his drink was iron but his eyes widened seeing the scar's location. "Not here. Too many eyes." Steve answered but suddenly his arm was grabbed and his hand was on the scar. "Fuck whoever's watching." The raven haired man said bringing the hand in circles. The sensation of touch was felt by both men, arousing them. "Well you must have a scar fetish." Massani said smirking. "But looks like we got tents that need some handling." The brown haired main rolled his eyes grabbing the man's arm as they headed out of the club.
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| (Illustration by starfleetspectre.) |
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