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 3. I fall apart, down to my core.

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Galileo Gray

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Join date : 2016-11-21

PostSubject: 3. I fall apart, down to my core.    Mon Jun 05, 2017 4:43 pm

"Gally!" Malakai kisses him on the cheek and grins, bright.  His hair is carefully braided, no doubt Oleander's work.  The house seems to have gone back to normal.  Thatcher was due to leave soon, so everyone had gathered into the living room for a little party.
"I'm glad you decided to join us!"  There was a radio playing music, some new upbeat top chart.  Malakai sways to the beat, and Galileo can't help but grin.  
"Course I did.  Between you and Thatcher, I had no choice."  It hadn't taken much convincing.  Galileo was always drawn to the two of them.  
"You should dance with me."  Malakai smiles, pretty.  Galileo thinks that maybe in another life he could love someone like Mal.  It's too bad he'd never be satisfied this way. Somehow, Jett is always on the edge of his thoughts.
Jett.  The boy is sitting on the couch with Oleander, getting his hair braided, too.  Gally forces himself not to stare.
"I would, but I don't much feel like embarrassin' myself in front of the pack.  You know i'm a fool clumsy dancer.  Maybe a rain check?"  
Malakai looks like he might argue, but Oleander appears at his side, draping an arm around his brothers shoulders.  "Did you really ditch me to come talk to this hick?"
Galileo scoffs, glances around the room for Jett.  He's with Nikita now, both of them seeming to watch Oleander as he tries to lure Malakai away.  "Come on, Gally is a good southern gentleman.  You guys just don't know it."  The boy winks at him, gifts him one last smile before Oleander is tugging him off  into the center of the room.  Gally watches as they dance, twirling around each other to the rhythm.
"Galileo?"
He turns to see Eustass standing to his right.  He'd felt the alpha's presents even though he hadn't heard the man walk up.
"Oh, alpha man.  Howdy."  Gally has never been comfortable around the man, knows that Eustass harbors mixed feelings about him.  
The alpha smiles, forced.  Gally knows that he's trying.  He really is a good man, everything Galileo isn't.  He thinks of Jett, calling him 'sir.'  and has to stifle a dark chuckle.  
"I hope you're having  a good time.  I don't see you around too often, especially at pack events."  He seems like he wants to say more, so Gally waits.
"I see you've been spending a lot of time with Jett recently."
Ah.  There it is. Gally should have known.
"Yeah.  I reckon so."
Galileo studies Eustass's face intently.  There is something like a fatherly sort of protectiveness there, and the thought does not sit well in his stomach.
"I was wonderin' if he'd mentioned anything to you, about Boyd."  Eustass pauses, struggles with his words.  "I love Boyd, but I don't want Jett blaming himself.  So could uh, could you just tell him it isn't his fault if the subject comes up."  
Galileo isn't prepared for this.
"Im awfully flattered you'd think I could change his mind on anything."  Galileo doesn't bother trying to smile anymore. He can't, not while discussing Jett and Boyd's relationship.  "But Jett is a force of his own reckoning.  If he has something in his head, I ain't much use at changing it."  
Eustass doesn't shy away or switch the subject, as Gally had hoped he would.
"I just thought that maybe you might be able to get through to him, seeing as how you're the first person he went to after the entire ordeal with Boyd.  As far as I know, he hasn't talked to anyone else about it."
Galileo grimaces before he can help it.  How can he help it?
He thinks of dark eyes and pretty sounds, Jett on his bed.  He thinks of the boy sitting in a seedy bar with head in his hands, body trembling and chest heaving with sobs.
He wishes he could forget.
He doesn't ever want to forget.
"A funny story, that."  Galileo wishes he could go to the bar now, order Vodka on the rocks.  "This early in the evening?"  Malakai would say, but he isn't here.  He's still dancing  with Oleander in the middle of the room, giggling as his brother twirls him.
"Im sure it is.  But anyways, you should still tell him.  Even if you don't think it'll change anything, he deserves to hear it."  Galileo doesn't say that he's already tried this.
Maybe he'd try again.
Maybe one day Jett would believe him.
Eustass smiles at him again, still strained.  Galileo doesn't bother returning it.  He watches the alpha disappear off to Thatcher's side, and thinks about the tides rolling in.


He's only halfway into his bedroom when Jett grabs him by the collar of his shirt. Gally had gone to work after the party.  He has no idea how long Jett's been in his room, waiting.
"What in the fuck did you say to Eustass?  Did you tell him anything about us?"  The smaller man growls, and Galileo feels hurt hollowing out his chest.  Is the boy that embarrassed of him?
"He said he talked to you."  The smaller beta is scowling, hands shoving against Gally's chest.  His back hits the wall, hard.  Gally expected a fight, and he gets one, but not how he'd expected.
Jett attacked him with lips, ferocious and all consuming.  Galileo kisses back, of course, all angry fangs and claws sliding under a familiar flannel button up, raking over sensitive skin.  Jett is wearing his clothes again, and Gally fucking loves it. Hates that he loves it so much.
"I liked you better when you had a shirt in your mouth."
Galileo nips at Jetts lower lip, fangs cutting into tender flesh.  He tastes blood and Jett shudders.
"C'mere."  Galileo breathes into Jett's ear, fingers tugging the boy closer, hooking into the waistband of jeans too big for him. He surges forward and they stumble, still kissing and clawing onto the mattress.  
Gally smiles, clicks his tongue.  "Down, boy."
Jett doesn't think its funny, he snarls.  "Fuck you."
"Bet you'd like to."  Galileo winks and sheds his shirt to the floor.  His hands don't shake.  He'd worked all the nervous energy out of him at the lumber yard, hauling wood and working blueprints.  Right now, every muscle in his body quivers with control.  "But that ain't quite what I had in mind for tonight, darlin'.  Be a dear and lay down for me."
Surprisingly Jett doesn't argue, instead lays obediently back on the bed. His eyes glisten with a certain menace that makes Galileo wonder what he's thinking, what he's plotting.  
"You were gone for fucking ever.  And your hair is stupid."  Jett runs his fingers though the untamable curls, and Gally freezes beneath his hand.
"Missed me, huh?"
Galileo eyes Jett, all dark eyes and swollen, bitten lips, bends down and kisses him. This time it's different than it has been.  It's gentle, almost kind.  His fingers card through the boys hair, and the smaller beta just sita there and takes it, shaking.
"Maybe I did."  Jett says, voice hoarse.
Galileo doesn't know what to do with all the warmth that floods his chest.  He can't handle it head on, so instead he brushes his lips along the outer shell of Jett's ear.
"Maybe I can make it up to you, sweetheart."  He falls back onto the mattress and tugs Jett onto his chest.  The boy is straddling his lap, looking down at him.  For a moment Gally swears he sees a familiar twinkle in Jett's eyes.  The boy has never looked at him this way before. Maybe Gally imagined it entirely, saw what he wanted to see.
Jett's cheeks are flushed. That is real.
"Maybe you can, sir."  
"We're doing this, are we?" Galileo lets a moment pass.  Two.  Jett's eyes drop to his lap.  He seems embarrassed.
"Darlin', look at me."
Jett doesn't. "Don't fucking call me that. I'm not your darling."
Galileo remembers that he hates Jett.
"Manners."  Gally clicked his tongue like a disapproving mother, reaching down to pinch Jett's thigh, hard. The boy growls, tries to push the mans hand away even as his body reacts.  Galileo doesn't budge, his thumb massaging gentle circles into the already bruising flesh.  Jett doesn't seem to mind, says nothing when Gally tilts his face upwards to kiss away frown lines around the boys mouth.  
"You like to say i'm rude but you're the one with the dirtiest mouth."
Jett almost smiles.  "You like my mouth."
"I do."  Galileo doesn't deny it.  "Do you want me to make you use it? Tell me what you want here, Sweetheart.  Give me somethin' to work with."
Gally's hands find the boys ass, bunching up loose denim and kneading.  He feels Jett shivers against his palms.
"Goddamn- I want you to fuck me, sir." Jett's voice trembles.  Galileo wants to kiss him until he gasps, lick him open and just take him till he's screaming.
"I think you might could do a little better than that, sugar."  He likes to make Jett beg for it, loves to get the boy vulnerable and writhing beneath him.
"Screw  you, damnit.  I want you to fuck me, sir!"  Jett licks his lips, frustrated and wanting.  "Hurt me.  Use me.  Pin me down, tie me up, make me scream. I want you to open me up for you and for you to fucking fuck me, sir, want you to come in me.  Want to take your cock, sir, I-"
Galileo bites back a groan and presses his lips together, trying to stop all the blood from rushing to his dick too fast.
"You want to, sir."  Jett taunts, grinding down onto Gally's hardness.  "You want to take me.  I'd suck your dick, sir, let you fuck my mouth and make a mess out of me, p-please, I need you, sir."
"Damn, you're good at this."  Galileo says, fingers digging into Jett's ass through his jeans.  "Strip for me, Jett.  I want you naked, now."
Jett's throat bobs as Gally says his name, a quick swallow of nerves.  He pushes himself off of Gally- a hand on his cock, still trapped in his jeans - and quickly shimmies out of the shirt, already undoing his pants in the process.
"Sweet Jesus, look at you. Such a needy whore, huh?  Bet you'd love it if I just took you like this, dressed.  Try to get at my come through my jeans with your pretty little mouth."
Jett whines at the words, pants and boxers falling to his ankles.
"C'mere, darlin'.  Let me look atcha."
He kisses Jett when he can reach for him, pulling him close and licking into his open mouth.  Filthy, sweet and something like hate, but kinder.  Fiercer.
"Fuck."  Jett whimpers into his mouth.
"I want you, darlin'.  Anyway you can take me.  One day i'll let you jerk me off and come all over your pretty little chest so you can clean yourself up after."  Jett shudders at the suggestion, aroused.  He wants to move but Gally holds him firm.  "Right now I want you on your back, hands on the headboard.  Don't want you to move, sweetheart."
Gally hates this.  He hates how easy it is to say things like this, call Jett things like that.  He hates how Jett gives in, wants to be here.  He hates how his chest feels heavy and he wants to kiss Jett and kiss Jett and just keep kissing Jett.
Jett is trembling as he puts his hands on the headboard.  His fingers slip, shaking.  He's biting hard on his lower lip.  Galileo kisses him.
"If you need to stop-"
"Fuck you!"  Jett snaps, eyes flashing sharply.  "D-Don't you even fucking dare think of stopping."
It aches.  Something aches.
Galileo smirks, reaches for a packet of lube from the bedside table.  He gazes down at the boy and wonders how he could hate him.
How could he love him?
How could anyone?
"Hold your legs apart for me.  No hands."
Jett grins, impish.  "What, no please?"  The boys grin melts into a whine when Galileo lays a palm on the inside of his thigh, right below where his cock is.
"Be a good boy for me, Jett."
The smaller beta almost cries out the response.
"I don't want you to take your hands off the headboard, sweetheart.  Will that be a problem?"
"N-No."
"No?"  Galileo curls his fingers where his hand still is, warm against Jett's trembling thigh, and the latter struggles to breathe for a moment.  His cheeks are flushed.
"No, sir."
"And if you need to stop, you'll tell me."
Jett opens his mouth, brow already creasing, but Galileo leans over and kisses where the wrinkles form, and he falls silent.  "You'll tell me."  He murmurs into Jett's mouth, open and warm and almost kind.  "Cos' I don't want to hurt you, Jett, C'mon."
Jett's eyes soften.  He nods, curt and Gally presses another kiss to the side of his mouth before pulling away.
He's thinking about what Jett would look like on a dance floor.  He remembers a steady swing dance his mother had taught him, with all its twirls and spins and every step sequence.  He imagines Jett, hair flaring as he spins, catching Gally's hand like it's the only thing anchoring him to Earth.  
And god knows Gally needs an anchor.
He undresses.  Jett's eyes rake down his body as he does, hungry, drinking in the sight of him.  Galileo has never felt quite so powerful, quite as revered.  He swallows and focuses on a crack in the wall, one left even after he'd fixed the hole his fist had made.  He thinks about how he'd gotten from that night to this place, this moment, unbuttoning his flannel shirt and allowing it to drop onto the floor.
"Leo."  Jett says, reaching out and letting his fingers graze over Gally's worn jeans.  He grasps the fabric, tugs at it. His voice is almost nothing above a whisper.
"Hmm? What is it, sugar?"
A moment passes.  Two.  Jett kisses his teeth, throat bobbing in a very delicate sort of way, and then shakes his head.
Nothing.
"Hey."
Galileo takes his hands away.  He straddles Jett, hands cupping either side of the smaller man's face in a way that screams too intimate, too much at once.  An impulse seizes him.  He drags his thumb over Jett's chin, smooth and flushed.
"What are you-"
"I don't know."  Galileo's voice catches, grating terribly in the air like a dull knife.  He realizes he's crying.  Jett makes a small noise in the back of his throat and makes as if to sit up, but Gally pushes him back down.  "No.  Don't-"
Why is he backing out now?  Why is he overcome by all these emotions only now, like someone was banging on the floodgates so hard they came open and with them a torrent of pent up....everything.
"Leo."  Jett says.  "Sir."
Galileo swallows. His throat is dry.
"I can take it.  Please, sir.  I need-"  And here he breaks away, pretty pink tongue darting out as if to swipe away a passing knot of nerves forming on his upper lip.  "I need you to fuck me, please."
"Jesus.  Okay.  Okay, sweetheart."
There is plenty of room for conflict.  At least inside Galileo, as he pushes Jett's legs apart and slicks him up.  The boys head falls back when he pushes two fingers inside his tight little hole.  You'd think for someone who seems to have so much sexual experience he'd learn to unclench a little.  Gally can feel his hands shake  as he pushes and swirls, his breath coming out short and sharp as Jett moans.
He can see Jett's hands on the headboard.  His fingers are trembling, the urge to touch his aching cock evidently becoming overwhelming.  
Galileo knows he does not have to ask.  Jett knows the rules.
Another finger.  It's so hot, the way Jett moves.  One day, Gally will get him off just by fingering him, slow and steady and gentle til the boy comes, over and over, at a pace that will leave him sore and aching and beautifully sensitive for hours.
One day.  Galileo thinks that somehow, there will be another time.  Another place.  It's the first time he's ever thought about his future and looked forward to it.
Jett whines a slow, desperate sound and Gally swallows, aching.
"Fuck, fuck, s-sir, please-"
"Patience is a virtue, darlin'."  Galileo pulls his fingers out, tracing the pink, sensitive little pucker, and Jett's sounds are absolutely filthy.  "You're so pretty like this."  His voice catches again, but he surges on, more anger than anything else. "So pretty for me, Jett."
"G-God."  Jett gasps, back arching.  His knees are trembling as he struggles to hold them apart.  Galileo imagines them painted with release.
"Not quite.  Close."
"You're just fucking satan- Oh fuck, sit, please." Jett cant even speak, choking on the words as Gally slips his fingers in again, without warning, thrusting them in harder and faster.  "No more teasing p-"
The boy thrashes, words turning into full on whining, and then he seizes up.  Come streaks the inside of his thighs, Galileo's bare chest, his own chest.  
"There, baby."  The man almost cooes, aching as he admires the sight laid out before him.
"You haven't - c-come, yet."  Jett's eyes are closed.  He's breathing fast, hard, and Galileo looks at the white streaks across his chest, scoops it up with his fingers.
"You gonn' do somethin' about that, darlin'?"
Jett's mouth falls open when Galileo touches his fingers to his lips, licking at the come meticulously.  He sits and licks, making the most obscene sounds with his tongue as he does, until Galileo has cleaned most of it off Jett's chest.
"Wanna ride you."  The boy says, almost enchanted. "If you'd- If you'd let me. Sir."
"You're a little fucking shit, you know that?"
Galileo leans in before he can help it.  Jett has the audacity to look surprised, as if he hadn't been expecting Gally would kiss him after such a vehement remark.  He blinks, affronted, and then goes soft under Gally's lips.
It shouldn't feel this good.  Galileo should hate this.  Galileo should hate him.
Gally does hate him.  Gally hates Jett Jones.
"Hey," He says, and Jett kisses into his mouth, the sides of it, peppering kisses around his face as best as he can with his hands confined to the headboard.
"Hey."
Gally nips at the exposed skin when Jett tilts his head backwards, a long neck and bobbing Adam's Apple.  Sucks and bites til he's sure he'll leave love marks, bruises.  He wants to mark Jett up, make sure every knows.
Knows what?
"You taste so good."  Galileo says, dragging his teeth gently over Jetts skin.  He taste salt, the light sheen of sweat on Jett's body.
Jett shivers.
Galileo drinks in every inch of him.  Under his teeth, tongue, soft skin and flesh and bone.  Blood, if he bit hard enough, but he does not.  He bruises, but not excessively.  He runs fingers up and down Jett's body, touching, taking, claiming.
"F-Fuck."
"Like this?"  Galileo smirks into the curve of Jett's shoulder.  He pulls away, a soft purple blossoming over the area.  "You like this?"
Jett's pupils are full blown.
"You said something about wanting to ride me?" He can feel Jett getting hard again.  He smooths his hands over the boy's abdomen, runs them over the fine line of hair on Jett's stomach, leading down to his cock.  Another tremble.
"If you'd let me move my hands-"
"Mm."  Galileo says, nuzzling a small cluster of bruises mottling Jett's collarbone.  "Go 'head, darlin'"
And then Jett is a blur of activity.



He wrestles Galileo down and grabs at him, messy and fierce and so hot it hurts.  Fistfuls of hair and hungry, biting kisses.  Galileo yowls as his curls are yanked at.  Jett's fingers trace his jawline adoringly as he sits atop Gally's chest, the very picture of cheekiness.
"Hey," He says, leaning down to peck Galileo on the cheek.
"Real funny."  
Gally can feel his heartbeat in his ears, it's that damn loud.  He wants to hate this.  Hell, he should.  He should hate this so much.
"You already opened me up real good, sir."  Jett murmurs, grinding down onto Gally's hardness.  God, he must really have a kink for being dressed during sex, because his pants should have been off ages ago.  Galileo bites back a moan.  "I've been s-so good for you, please..."
"Tell me what you want, sweetheart."
"Wanna ride you."  Jett flushes up to his fucking ears, sweet jesus, and it's the hottest thing Gally has ever seen.  "Wanna take your cock so bad, sir, please.  I'll be so good-"
"Undress me."
Jett swallows, desperate.
Slowly, deliberately, he crawls off of Gally, dropping his hands beta's waist.  Galileo's breath hitches when Jett starts undoing his jeans.  His cock fucking aches by this point, neglected for so long.  As if Jett can tell, the cheeky little bastard, he undoes the zipper and painfully, slowly as possible, pulls the mans pants down.  He even pauses to smirk up at Gally before finally letting the fabric fall to his ankles.
"I'm going to fucking choke you."
"I'd like that."  Jett replies, which makes Gally choke, a little.  "Not tonight?  I really want to-"
"I know, sweetheart.  You gonna finish the job?"  Galileo gestures at his cock, straining in his boxers, and Jett grins.
They come off, somehow, and Gally slides the condom on, pats his lap in a way he hopes isn't too silly.  Jett only wiggles his eyebrows - my god, he's fucking irritating when he's not being fucked- and plops himself on it, legs bracketing Galileo's waist.
'I like your lap."  He says.  "I wonder if I could hop on it anytime and shut you up whenever I feel like."
Galileo sputters, pinches Jett's thigh, and the boy jumps, breath stuttering in his throat.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Hell, I would too.  Maybe i'd fuck you over the dining room table so the whole pack can see what a cockclut their most precious beta is."
Jett's body trembles, and he licks his lips.  "Fuck me now, right now, sir, please."
Gally considers teasing him, getting him worked up and panting and begging for it.  Then he decides against it.  Jett's been so good for him.  At least this far.  He nods, and Jett's throat bobs.
"Fuck,"  The boy whimpers as he begins sinking down on Galileo's cock.  "F-Fuck, oh, L-Leo."
Galileo growls, eyes scrunching up, and Jett takes another inch.  He clenches up, and fuck if it isn't mind blowing.  Gally's dick is responding more than the rest of him is.  He's throwing his head back, flushes, Jett's little mewling sounds white noise by now but still as hot.
"God, Jones, you're just so -fuck, right there, like that, baby - oh."  Galileo squeezes his eyes shut, panting.  He rocks his hips upwards, and Jett grunts, mouth opening and closing like he's out of breath.  He can't speak.  He can't fucking think.
For a moment he's lost.  A frenzy of movement.  Color. flashing lights.  A girl tripping over some guys feet.  Malakai spinning round and round.  Laughter and music and dance.
Jett's claws dig into his shoulders, bringing him back.  They rake across sensitive skin, occasionally drawing blood.  Galileo moans, leans into the touch.
He swipes his mouth over Jett's neck and catches the beads of sweat making their way down into the lovely little hollow between his collarbones, lets them sit on his tongue.  Jett groans, too blissed out to do anything other than rock on Gally's dick, practically buried inside his perfect little ass.  His lips move, swollen, but no sound escapes save for the occasional broken whimper.
Galileo is so close.  He feels it building in him, the momentum, so hard it hurts.  His brain blanks,  fizzes.  If he closes his eyes, sparks appear on the inside of his eyelids.
Jett is following then, shudders and comes, and his body responds by tightening up so much that Galileo gasps.  It splatters against his chest, again, and he responds in kind.  His eyes squeeze shut, silent, and blows his load with Jett's name dying on his lips.
He drifts, for a while.  It's only when Jett starts making small noises of discomfort that he begins easing out, carefully.  Jett is crying when he's done, little choked sobs that die when he buries his head in Gally's chest.
"You did so good for me, baby."  Galileo soothes, pressing soft kisses to Jett's nest of hair.  "It's okay, it's okay, sweetheart.  S'over."
Jett sniffles and breathes, heartbeat steady against Galileo's rabbiting ribcage, and Galileo kisses him and kisses him until his lips are tingling.  He doesn't remember falling asleep.
He doesn't.

Jett, in the morning, tastes like black coffee and cherry scones.  There's sugar on his lower lip, which Galileo nibbles at absently before he grabs the smaller beta by his fantastic ass and they spend half an hour just kissing and touching.
His chest aches.  Behind his eyes, something aches.
"How did you even wake up early enough to bake, you fuck?"  Galileo's voice comes out hoarse.  
Jett mumbles a response into his mouth.
"Wanna tell me what you and Eustass were talking about last night?"
Galileo stills, taken aback.  Then he smiles, rubbing his stubble against Jett's bare cheek.  It grates in a strangely pleasant way and the boy whines.
"He asked me how you were doin'.  I reckon you know he looks out for you, so he's noticed us spendin' time together.  Wanted to see if there was anythin' I could do to help with your huge guilt complex."  
"What did you say?"  Jett's voice is quiet.  He leans into Galileo's touch, plays with his fingers, grazing the knuckles softly.  Galileo kisses him.  He tastes bitter and sweet, all at once.
"That I couldn't do a damn thing to change your mind even if I wanted to.  That you're a stubborn little fuck who wont accept that not everything is your fault."
"You got me pegged there, Leo."
Gally's gaze snaps upwards, but Jett only smiles, a little sad.
"Leaving Boyd like I did, I know that was a terrible thing to do but I had the best intentions.  I just wanted him to have better.  I was an idiot, and now he's all fucked up and everything's a damn mess."  He stops, breath hitching in his throat, and then he looks away.  " It all started with me."
"Uh-huh."  
Gally's ear throbs. His temples ache.
"Leo,"  Jett starts again, each word measured.  Dancing on the edge of a knife.  "What do you think I should do? There's no fixing this. No matter what I do, nothing gets better."
"Well then maybe you oughta just drop it then, dontcha think? Go on livin' your life and fuckin' let Boyd live his.  He ain't your responsibility no more, ya gotta accept that and get on with it."  
Gally watches Jett's face, sees conflict shining in the boys eyes.
"I know that's what I should do, but it's not so easy as you make it seem.  I still care about Boyd...I'm tired of being the reason he hurts."
Galileo's chest feels tight. It's almost hard to breathe.
"Like I said Jones, just stop it already.  Stay the hell away from and forget it ever happened. You sittin' here worryin' and stressin' ain't helpin' nothin'. You might as well start thinkin' about just letting it the fuck go."  He doesn't want to care, but he does.
Surprisingly, Jett has yet to snap at him.  Instead the boy's fingers drum against Gally's jawline.  He realizes this is what intimacy feels like.  Without fear.  As it's supposed to be.
"So, you ain't gonn argue? Just gonn' accept what I had to say?"  
"I guess so."  Jett admits.  He looks sad now, and Galileo wants to hold him.
It gets quiet.  Galileo hates the quiet, but it isn't so bad with Jett here, the boys fingertips grazing over stubbled cheeks.
"What are we doing here?  A bitch like me and a southern bastard like you.  How did we ever manage to get into this?  You hate me but you don't want to hurt me and I don't understand.  I don't understand you. "
"Do you want to?"  Galileo traces the lines of Jett's face with a gentle but callused finger.  Angry lines.  Tired lines.  Frustrated.
"Is that an offer or something?  Because if you're jerking me around again, i'll drink myself under another table probably"  Jett's voice is harsh.  He is harsh.  He is anger personified.  Galileo loves that anger.  "Please.  If you're telling me to leave again, i'll do it.  I won't come back.  I swear to God I-" and he looks away, voice sharp.  The edge of a blade.
Gally realises his fingers are shaking.
"Don't leave."
"Fuck,  Leo, I can't -  I'm not the type of person who can make you happy.  God knows I tired to be that for Boyd but i'm no good. I'm a terrible person, I- fuck.  Leo.  Fuck."
Jett buries his head in his hands.
Galileo struggles to breathe.  He won't let Jett slip through his fingers like Boyd did.  Gally wont let go.
"Look, I dunno what you promised Boyd, but I ain't asking for anythin'."  Galileo needs this. He needs it like water.  "Just stay.  Please. We already live together.  And you can see other people if you'd like, this doesn't have to be a commitment, but stay."  God knows he doesn't want Jett seeing other people, but he's learned to take whatever this cruel world offers.
Jett's eyes are shining.  He's crying.
"I fucking hate you, you fuck."  He says, and somehow, Galileo understands.  


Jett's arm is tucked into Gally's, and his cheek is pressed to the window of the mans truck as traffic rolls by.  He watches as they get closer and closer to home, anxious to finally get Gally alone in his bedroom.  Galileo is watching the road, mostly.  But every now and then he allows himself a glance at Jett.  Sometimes he still wonders if this is real. He's so content, he doesn't feel it can last.  He's constantly waiting for this thing between them to blow up in his face.
Jett turns to smirk, and Galileo wants to touch him.  Skin remembers skin.  He craves the contact.
"It always feels like an eternity getting home from that bar."  Jett mutters, scooting closer in order to rest his head on Galileo's shoulder.  
"If you're tired - "
"Fuck off."  Galileo winces as Jett pushes an elbow into his stomach, careful not to jar the steering wheel.
"Sit still, you little fucker.  We're about to be there."  
Jett drops his head back down onto Gally's shoulder, surprised to feel the man's lips quick and warm against his temple.  He doesn't think he'll ever get used to this thing between them,but that's not necessarily a bad thing.
Galileo parks the truck next to Thatcher's in the driveway, catches Jett looking at him almost starry eyed.  At one time, he'd looked at Boyd that way.
"You know Leo, This one time I thought I hated you."
Gally's heart stutters inside his ribcage.
"I do even now."
The boy smiles.  Galileo cradles that smile with gentle fingers.  He knows he could break it.
"I hate you, too."
Its getting dark outside.  Oleander is on the porch, smoking a cigarette.  He may have been waiting for Jett to arrive, standing to wave when he finally sees the boy, a shit eating grin on his face.
"Something good must have happened with Carter."  Jett snickers at  his friend, waving back and following Gally up the steps.  
Oleander stubs out his cigarette, moving to link arms with Jett.  He usually ignores Gally completely, but recently he's been attempting to be civil.  
Gally plays along, returning the boys forced smile.
"Dad's inside embarrassing the hell out of us by trying to dance with mom.  I needed a break." Jett grins fondly at the mention of Eustass, taking both Oleander and Gally by hand and leading them inside to witness the magic.


The house is no grand ballroom, but it works just as well.  In the center of the living room Eustass is laughing, the sound echoing throughout the home as he trips over Thatcher's feet for the umpteenth time in a row.  Gally sees Thatcher smile like the sun, absolutely delighted.  Jett is still by his side, and for a moment he knows what pure happiness tastes like.
Boyd is hardly noticeable, his usual towering form tucked away. He's sitting low in an armchair, obviously doing all he can to disappear.  He hadn't wanted to come.  Nikita had made him, something about him needing to get out of the house and socialize.
He knew this was a mistake.  He couldn't be here with Jett.  He couldn't be so close without wanting to touch or talk.
Boyd knows the moment Jett notices him, can see the realization flicker across ocean blue eyes.  He tries again to make himself disappear.
Jett somehow finds himself back against the wall, slumped there, suddenly exhausted.  Galileo follows, notes how his lips are pursed, and wants to kiss them.
He doesn't notice Boyd.  
"Hey."
"Hey."  Jett responds.  The sun has finally fallen.  When Galileo glances outside, he sees a full moon.  It reflects off Jett's dark eyes, pools of water.  Galileo is a thirsty man.  He reaches out before he can help himself.
"Dance with me?"
His fingers graze Jett's arm.  There is so much electricity between them, it flows like liquid.  The full moon in Jett's eyes glares.  If Gally stares hard enough, he'd make out the glimmer of starlight, too.
Gally isn't only asking him to dance.
Somehow, they both understand that.
Jett hesitates, glances off towards a space behind Gally's shoulder and in that moment Gally allows everything to come crashing down around him.
Blood roars in his ears.  The room swims.  He can see the blurry outline of his hand, reach and reaching.  Music is playing in the background, upbeat and happy and terrible.
He thinks of messy kisses and bitter coffee and dying and Jett in his flannel.
He thinks of dancing.
"Ya know, you don't have to.  I mean, it's not - I'll be fine.  No pressure, I know that."  Gally breaks away.  Everyone seems to be watching him.  The grin begins to slip and slide from Thatcher's face, Eustass has come to a complete stop in the center of the room. He realizes belatedly that Boyd is here, too.  The boy doesn't look at him.  He stares at Jett.
Jett is not staring at anyone.  Jett is looking away, out the window with the full moon and the void of starless sky, and he looks away and looks away and away.
"Gally?"  Malakai appears at his side, says his name in a soft voice, and Galileo cracks.



The first time Galileo met Jett Jones, he vowed to despise him.
He can't remember what was said, just that ever since then they'd been constantly at each other's throats.  He hated how Jett had Eustass wrapped around his finger, hates the boys smart ass mouth and how he doted on a pussy like Boyd. Gally found new things to hate every day.
Gally has fucked people before.  They never mean anything.
Jett though, he means everything.  The boy is a hurricane of anger and passion and everything Gally sees in himself.  Jett is opinions Gally hates and an attitude he wants to bury.  Jett is a force of his own reckoning.
Jett has singlehandedly grabbed hold of the one rope still tethering Galileo to a shore, yanking so hard Gally can feel it burn.
Gally is burning.  It's a slow sort of burn.


Gally got home from work an hour ago but he hasn't made any move to come inside.  The man is sitting on the tailgate of his truck, drinking.  There are quiet footsteps but he doesn't look up, instead choosing to study the ground.  The grass needs to be cut, and there's already dew gathering on long blades.  A shiny beetle scuttles by.
Gally's each aches. His temple.
"Leo."
He doesn't look up.  He doesn't look up.
He wants to.
An exasperated noise.  Jett settles onto the tailgate next to him, and he wants to cry. He wants to run away.
Strange.  Until now, he didn't know what that felt like.
"Why are you out here?"
Gally snorts.  "That's my line."  
He thinks of dancing.
He thinks of-
Nothing.  He can't.  He can't.  There's still broken shards of glass in his carpet.  He could never get them all.  He remembers his mother broke a vase once.  He'd tip toed around the pieces until one was lodged in his foot.  There was blood, short bursts of pain.  No one was there.  He picked the glass out of his foot. He took care of himself.
He's so tired.  He wants to stop thinking altogether.
"Leo-"
Gally remembers his mother finally finding him, picking him up and cradling him to her hip.  He was crying.  Gally is-
crying.
His face is blank. He makes no noise, but he can taste the salt.
"Leo."  Jett's hand bunches itself in his sleeve.  Gally looks up at the sky and thinks of sleep. Bullets. Darkness.  Rest.  There are no stars.  Only a hungry full moon that regards him as disdainfully as if he were nothing but a fool, falling in love.  
"Look at me? Please."
He doesn't.
"I was thinking, the other day."
Jett's fingers relax, curl up against warm skin under cold fabric.  Gally wants to touch them, hold them.  He knows he could break them.
"About me?"
"About you."
Silence.
"I was thinkin' on how you said you didn't understand me.  I don't reckon I much understand you, neither."
Jett leans into him.
"Do you want to?
His voice is soft as he echoes Gally's words back to him, nuzzling the man's shoulder. Jett smells like bitter coffee and sugary baked goods.  It makes his heart hurt.  His ear aches.
"I do.  I'm pretty damn sure it's worth a shot."  Gally whispers. and they stay there for a while until it sinks in.
That they're in love-
even if it is the hateful kind.



Gally goes out drinking with Malakai as he normally does, but tonight he brings Jett along with him.  The bar isn't overly crowded.  A radio somewhere plays an upbeat tune Gally recognized it as one of Malakai's favorite songs.  
He and Jett are drinking at the bar when Mal stumbles towards them, panting.  A tall guy follows not too far behind, but doesn't approach Gally.  Malakai's dance partner for the evening.
"Fuck, this is fun."  Malakai has already had a little too much to drink.  He hiccups when he talks, sways when he tries to walk.  Gally has been keeping a close eye on him.  "You should try dancing.  I know you want to."  The boy ignores Jett for the most part, still doesn't know how to be civil.  He seems to be trying though, for Gally.  The man loves him for it.
"I really shouldn't."  
He glances over his shoulder and catches Jett smiling at him.  It makes Gally's heart break into two.
"C'mon."  He holds out a hand.  His fingers are cold, numb.  He won't admit it, but he's fucking terrified.  "Please?  Just one, I promise. I can even lead."  Gally hasn't really danced in years.  When he was a tiny child his mother had taught him, had loved twirling with him when his father was gone.  He hasn't danced since she died, not really. He sways to music. He doesn't dance anymore.
But Jett? Jett makes so goddamn happy he wants to dance again.
The music is new, a softer voice but faster pace.
Jett's full moon eyes gaze  into his face.  Galileo can't read them, he never can.  Jett may be an open book but he's written in a language no one can understand.  
But by god, can Gally worship it.
"Just one."  Jett echoes, smirking almost shyly as he takes Gally's hand.  "You promise, huh?"
Another song comes on, this one Gally is more familiar with.  He doesn't miss a beat, yanking Jett to his feet and twirling him around and round.  The boy looks astonished, starry eyed, and Galileo's chest is tight.  
"Fuck-"
He can hear Malakai let out a surprised whoop.  People around them have stopped dancing in order to  watch.  Galileo only has eyes for Jett.  He crushes their fingers together, catches the boys free arm by the elbow and pulls him in and out of his own little step sequence.  His shirt flutters in the wind.
"Fuck."  Jett says again, but its more in awe this time, like he'd never expected a southern scrub like Gally to be able to dance like this.   He trips over Galileo's feet and the latter laughs, catches him just in time and hauls him upright.
They dance until the very last guitar strum, and even then Gally would have continued.  He looks at Jett, hair flying around his face, lips parted with laugher.  There are smile lines by his eyes and God, if he isn't fucking beautiful.  
Gally wants to keep going, but he's promised Jett it would only be one dance and he keeps his word.  When they pull away, they are sweating so heavily they look like they just showered fully dressed.
Galileo sucks in a shaky breath, wipes the sweat off his brow just as Jett exhales and throws his head back, panting.  
"How the fuck?"  Jett grins, a hand on his chest as if his heart is about to explode out of it.  "Did I let you talk me into that?  And how in the hell did I enjoy it?"
"Dancin' sure is great, ain't it?" Being here, in this moment with Jett was great.
Life turns on a dime.


Galileo wakes up to warmth, settled against his chest.  Bony fingers wrapped around his, a soft cheek resting on his bare shoulder.  They didn't so much go as tumble into bed last night, messy kisses and whispers into skin that remembers skin.
"Good mornin'."  He says, though a glance at the digital clock informed him it was well past noon.
Jett stirs.  Something stirs inside Gally's chest, a great heavy hunger to protect this heap of skin and bones sharing his warmth.
Galileo is afraid.  He is afraid of holding onto something so tightly.  He is afraid Jett is not an anchor but a paper plane, to be carried away on a strong wing. A pipe dream.  He is afraid of-
Loving, not hating Jett.
"Oh, fuck."  Jett groans, rolling over onto his back.  His hair spreads over the pillows.  Gally can't help but thread his fingers through it.
"Awake at last, I see."
"Fuck you, you probably just got up."  Jett blinks sleepily at him.  Gally feels something twist and leap in his ribcage.  "What time is it?"
Time for change, Gally thinks, absently.
"Late."
Jett yawns, lazily, and Galileo grabs him by the waist.
It happens too fast, every time he touches Jett he's on fire.  His pulse races, he can feel the beating warmth where his fingers rest upon the boys hip.  He's breathing.  
"Hi."  Jett whispers.  His breath tickles Gally's nose, a curl of cinnamon and whatever was in the drinks the man had bought him.
"Hi."
His fingers are shaking.  Jett reaches back, takes them in his.
"You don't have to -  you know.  Whatever this is."  His eyes are unknowable, they give nothing away.  Galileo wants to dive into the pool, a thirsty man.  The water is murky and still.  He is not sure if he will drown, but drowning is a better alternative to admitting the importance of this to himself, the importance of Jett.
"Whatever we are."
"Oh."
A curious, raw kind of sound.
"Oh," Gally echoes.
"Can I say something?  Before you do.  Because I-"  And here Galileo's chest aches, because Jett's fingers are slipping from his and so are his eyes.  "-because i'm scared."
Scared.  So is Galileo.
He doesn't think he remembers ever not being scared.
Gally nods, breath hitching in his throat, and Jett smiles.
"I still fucking hate you.  I remember the first time we met.  You were an immediate asshole and I was trying to be nice.  You were wearing flannel then, too. A bright fucking fire truck red.  And you looked like you were judging everyone.  I remember asking around, because hell, i'd never seen anything or anyone like you.  No one who could get under my skin like you can.  It's like pissing me off is your superpower."
Galileo chuckles.  It's bitter.
He's never seen anyone like him, either.  Broken and battered, unfixable.  
"I remember arguing with you.  It feels so fucking good.  It always feels so fucking good, arguing with you.  Arguing against you. God, you're such an asshole."  Jett grins, lips brushing Gally's mouth.  "I remember your stupid comments about everything. I couldn't get them out of my head."  
"You'd come find me to fight about something I'd said days ago." Gally snorted at the memories.  Jett hasn't changed.  He'd still renew a fight if he found he had something more to say.
"Everything you do gets to me.  It always does. I needed time.  I always need more time."  Jett is studying his hands, calloused fingers and worn palms.  " Time's a funny thing, isn't it? How we started and where we are now."
Galileo considers him.  "A lot of things are funny. I've learned not to waste time questioning it."
Jett looks at him, expression soft.  "Yeah."  He nods, a smile curling the edges of his perfect pink lips.  "A lot of things are funny."
Galileo moves again, too fast for his own brain to register.  
His head rests on Jett's shoulder, chin tucking between empty space and warm skin, and Jett touches him and touches him.  Galileo is dancing on hot coals, spinning to the beat of a rattlesnake, and he would not give this up for anything.
For the first time in his life, he is grateful to have been saved, to be here.
"I only ever want to argue with you."
"Teach me how to dance again, sometime."  Jett whispers in return.


They dance until their feet hurt, and argue until their lips blister.  A vicious cycle of unadulterated loathing and a tenderness that scars, bite marks on bruised skin and fingers sticky with icing.
People look at them funny.  They shouldn't attract but they do, so broken they somehow fit together.  
Galileo still hates Jett, but loves him even more than that. And he thinks that maybe, just maybe, Jett loves him, too.

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