Preston Garvey Week Day 4 - Repair

ORIGINALLY WRITTEN: September 2025

NOTES: One of several entries into Preston Garvey (Appreciation) Week over on Tumblr!

Lots of Pre-War tech was on the fritz nowadays, unless it was requisitioned and repurposed by factions like the Brotherhood of Steel. Shepard’s prosthesis was no exception, especially after his extended stay in the cryogenic pod. The moisture from the cold made the inner mechanisms sensitive to movement, locked up and quick to overwork as he’d begun moving. When he got Sanctuary up and running, Shepard did his best to make repairs on the leg using the Power Armor workbench, but even then it just wasn’t enough some days.

It was old. He was getting old. And it was showing today, as he tried to stand out of bed and ended up catching himself on the nightstand.

“Shit—” A thud. A few rugged breaths. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” His hands began searching for the manual release tucked around the knee joint. With a soft hydraulic hiss, the mechanism gave and allowed him to straighten the leg out so he could stand properly.

It was then Preston came in from the living room, coffees in hand and a surprised look on his face.

“Oh, you’re up. I didn’t wake you, did I? I tried to be quiet, but Dogmeat was very happy someone woke up to feed him… And I may or may not have dropped the first pot of coffee.” He set the cups down on the nightstand beside Shepard’s hand, tired eyes slowly tracing along his figure and noticing the awkward stance. “You okay, babe?”

Shepard couldn’t help the way he’d softened hearing how Preston cared so much. The subtle gesture of making an extra coffee to wake him up meant the world to the sole survivor, and he offered a tired smile as he slowly sat back on the bed and kicked his leg out. Preston tilted his head and sat beside him, eyeing the worn metal as it glistened in the dawn.

“Yeah–Yeah, I’m okay.” He took a cup and sipped from it, humming as the hot beverage awakened his senses. “My leg locked up again is all. I think the ball joint is finally on its way out, so… Feel like making a trip out to one of the old medical centers with me later?”

“Of course. But to get out there… Say, I’ve been up for a bit–Want me to look at it now?”

How could he say no to that sincere smile? Or those big, brown eyes that captivated him every time their gazes met? Shepard leaned over to press a chaste kiss to his lover’s cheek, earning a warm laugh and the gesture returned.

“If you don’t mind.” A pause, then he grinned. “Trade ya for it–I remember you mentioning something about your musket taking longer to charge.”

Preston set his drink aside and moved to kneel on the ground in front of Shepard, gaze focused as he started to look over the prosthesis.

A precursory glance revealed nothing glaringly wrong. Everything was in its place, mechanisms interlocked as its owner stretched out his leg further. Soft, albeit calloused, hands reached to carefully cup the skin just above the prosthesis. One slid downward, wrapping around the lower leg and pushing so that he bent his knee back. The man obliged, adjusting his posture and watching with intrigue as another low, pneumatic hiss slipped out. It was then that there was a rough, mechanical groan and the mechanism locked.

“Definitely the joint.” Preston mused aloud, leaning closer to peer around the ball joint. “I think… Yeah. Yeah, the wedge is getting stuck because the screws are stripped. We can still head out, but we might be able to fix it here. That is, if Sturges has some extra screws laying around.”

Shepard blinked. “That’s it?”

“That’s it, babe.” Preston offered a vibrant smile, pulling back just enough to look up at his lover.

There was a spark. A sudden ignition that captivated both of them. It came with the rising sun; strengthened as warm rays accentuated every bit of exposed flesh between them and bore through the thinned fabric of their sleepwear. Warmed their cheeks in a way that brought forth a subtle rosy hue; it was much more obvious on Shepard, though burned hotter on Preston. Both hesitated to speak, eyes scanning the others’ features hoping to find a silent confirmation. It was found in the subtle way Shepard’s hand moved to cup his lover’s cheek, thumb gently caressing along the shaved stubble and along the faint, but rugged, scarring on his face. The Minuteman chased the touch, turning to press soft lips to the rugged palm that held him. Then another. And another, this time trailing along the visible tendons of his wrist; moving up along the arm and allowing his hands to slide up his partner’s legs and caress the varied textures. Soft fuzz, still metal, and a growing blush that warmed even the furthest regions.

“Babe?” A pause, lips lingering on the soft flesh of his lover’s thigh.

“Yes…?” A quivering voice, head suddenly unable to focus as his blood began to rush within him.

“Anything else you need me to help you with…~?”

There was sudden awareness. A tension that pooled in Shepard’s gut and brought his attention to the fact his briefs did very little to conceal the way such candid affections had aroused him. Pre-cum leaked into the soft cotton weave, staining it and revealing itself atop the light fabric. In the morning sun, the tip of his cock was almost visible. He let an awkward laugh escape him, gaze shifting off to the side as Preston trailed his hand ever closer. A subtle, inquisitive gesture.

“Well…” His voice trailed off, just as his hand did. Trailed along those gorgeous features to coax him closer. Preston followed; Shepard spoke up again. “There might be.”

Low laughter filled the room as Preston sat up on his knees, eyes focused on the other’s expression as those soft fingertips found themselves peeling away the sleepwear from his form. Shepard raised his hips to aid in the process, shifting his weight so that the undergarment could be set aside. Gentle tracing led to contact, and the release of soft moans. An idle rhythm was established, the Minuteman’s hand lovingly stroking his partner and coaxing more of those sweet sounds from him. The General could hardly keep his focus, lashes fluttering as he watched the way his lover’s lips kissed at him. They traveled loosely along his tip, tongue peeking out to lick at the salty drippage. Deep eyes focused on the faltering stability of his expression, watching the way he’d spilled his adoration.

“Shit–I–” Shepard panted, almost embarrassed by how quickly their indulgence ended on his behalf. Preston withdrew, licking his lips and allowing his hand to maintain that idle pacing.

“Hey, don’t worry.” He withdrew fully, pushing himself up onto his feet and planting himself on the bed beside the other. He softly kissed the other’s cheek, ghosting his lips along the grown-in stubble. “We have all morning.”