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Galileo Gray

Galileo Gray

Posts : 350
Join date : 2016-11-21

Tequila Empty
PostSubject: Tequila   Tequila EmptyWed May 09, 2018 10:00 am

I can still shut down a party

Galileo has been sitting alone for the better part of an hour now.  He'd gone along with Malakai on another nameless date, mostly just to keep an eye on the boy and make sure no one was getting too handsy.  He'd wound up drinking Malakai and his date of the night under the table, and now he was watching them sway on the dance floor, all clumsy feet and drunk giggling. Or at least for Malakai it was.  His man of the evening actually seemed to know what he was doing, would spin Mal around and even dip him before allowing the boy to stand on his toes while he danced for the both of them.  

I can hang with anybody

A few people had approached Gally.  He always smiled, not genuinely.  More of a polite southern gesture as he turned them away. None of them are who he's missing.   The little asshole decided to stay home, refused to let anyone know they held anything except contempt for eachother.
Or maybe that's really all Jett feels and Gally just isn't getting the hint.
The thought causes something to ache in his chest, unnervingly near to his heart.  
Gally flags down the bartender and orders himself some hard liquor, remembers to get something fruity for Mal.

I can drink whiskey and red wine
Champagne all night

Galileo throws his drink back and doesn't flinch as it burns going down.  A little pain was almost comforting now, something Gally's stupid defective brain associates with late nights spent watching Jett slither around his bed, every bit the rattlesnake Galileo said he was.  
The beta glances out onto the dance floor, eyes catching on the  red glitter smeared across Malakai's eyelids.  Its a bright color, a certain shade Gally can still see.  
It always reminds him of Jett, the color of blood dripping off the boys chin, a vibrant field of tulips he'd driven by on his way to that ally, so pretty he'd almost turned back.
It had been the color of the silky boxers he'd pulled off of Jett the first night he'd ever wandered into Gally's room

Little Scotch on the rocks and I'm fine, I'm fine

The mysterious man holds Malakai's hand while he twirls circles around the dance floor.  His fingers are spread against the small of Mal's back, carefully keeping him  from falling as he laughs the night away.
Gally loves to dance.  
He wishes Jett would come with him, wishes the little bastard would give him a dance.
Gally snorts to himself, and knows if Jett were here he'd be laughing too.  It was  funny, him thinking Jett would ever be so comfortable he'd dance with Gally in a room full of people.
He probably wouldn't even do it in the privacy of Galileo's bedroom.  The boy comes and goes as he pleases, usually never stays longer than it takes for them to finish fucking.  On most nights Galileo has hardly caught his breath, and Jett's already collecting his clothes.
Until the one night he wasn't.  Until the night he stayed and slept next to Galileo, never touching but warm and steady and real.  
It hurts.  Gally doesn't want it to.  He hates the moment they finish, where his breath catches and he waits to see if Jett is going to stay or go.
A little bit of hope can kill a man.
He throws back another drink, and when the bartender comes around he asks for tequila on the rocks.  Gally knows its a dangerous thing to do, but he wants to remember the last time he danced and that's excuse enough.

But when I taste tequila, baby I still see ya
Cutting up the floor in a sorority t-shirt

The bartender hands him back his glass, and its not coincidence that their fingers brush.  Galileo ignores them though, stares down into his drink so intensely its as though he sees something in the clear liquid.
And then he throws it back and remembers-
Raleigh's feet propped up against Roxanne's dashboard, the sound of his voice singing along to the radio, begging to know where Gally was taking them.
Galileo remembers how he smiled at the boy, so wide he thought it might crack his jaw.  Instead of answering he reached for Raleigh's hand, held onto it while they drove down dirt roads.
He can still see the boy if he closes his eyes, leaning out the window and letting his hair blow in the wind.  When he smiled the freckles seemed to dance on his cheeks, and Galileo remembers how his stomach flipped at the sight.  
Raleigh turned back to wink at him, and Galileo swore he'd spend the rest of his life riding this boy around in his truck.  

The same one you wore when we were
Sky high in Colorado, your lips pressed against the bottle

Galileo had driven them out to a small creek where the water was clear and the trees parted just enough so they had a clear view of the sky.  
He thinks back to that place, and before he knows it he's consumed another drink.  It's alcohol burning his lips, but Gally swears he tastes Raleigh's mouth.  
He'd let down all the windows in Roxanne that night, turned up the cheesiest love songs he knew.  They were young and in love and Galileo had asked him to dance, even tipped his hat and bowed like a proper southern beau.
Raleigh had laughed at him.  Its a sound Galileo still hears, even over the constant pounding in his head.
He'd let Gally lead, and they'd spun around  in the grass.  It felt better than a dance floor ever could, even though Raleigh stepped on his toes from time to time.  Galileo was wearing boots.  He'd eventually made Raleigh stand on his feet, and he'd spun them around until the sun started going down.
That didn't mean the party was over though. Galileo had come prepared, even brought enough wood to build them a fire right beside the water.

Swearing on a bible, baby, I'd never leave ya
I remember how bad I need ya, when I taste Tequila
When I taste Tequila

The lights of the bar glimmer over head.  They twinkle like the christmas decorations his home town would string up for the holidays, and it reminds Galileo of late nights spent outside under pine trees, pressing Raleigh's hands against his mouth to keep them warm against the cold December nights.
He tries to push the thoughts away, but the bartender just keeps his drinks coming and Gally is already too far gone to stop himself.
Malakai is still out there dancing.  So Galileo is free to sit here with tequila on his tongue, mind so far gone he is hardly even aware of the bar anymore.
Jesus, those fucking lights strung around don't help him none.  They give the illusion of fire flies, and Galileo has always been a sucker for those.
He used to call them lightning bugs, and he'd spent hours running around beside the creek that night trying to catch them.  Raleigh had helped, but mostly he'd laughed and that was just fine with Gally who at one time loved that sound more than any other.
Sometimes his mind betrays him and he doesn't remember all the details, but tonight is a gift and Galileo is able to catch glimpses of it.
He'd been the one to start it.  After catching enough fireflies to light up the bed of his truck they'd settled in by the fire and made smores.  Or really Raleigh made the smores while Gally watched.  What was said is lost on him now, but Gally remembers what made him move.  It was the way Raleigh had accidently smeared a bit of marshmallow across his bottom lip.  The boy had began to lick it away and before he knew it Galileo had closed the distance between them.  That kiss had been sticky and sweet and so soft Galileo still aches thinking about it.
They'd made love in the back of his truck, laid out on all the pillows Gally had stolen from his home.  He remembers at one point Raleigh had been on top of him, and Galileo could see all the stars over his shoulders. The constellations on Raleigh's face had been more beautiful though, and they made love while Johnny cash played in the background.

I can kiss somebody brand new
And not even think about you

Galileo finally finds enough sense to push his glass away.  The memories are nice, but they only leave a gaping hole in his chest.  Raleigh wouldn't even recognize him anymore.  Gally isn't the same boy who'd taken him out to the woods that night.  That boy had died a while ago.  All he is now are the broken pieces Thatcher had managed to salvage that night.
And they all belong to Jett, even though he shows no interest in owning them.
Galileo hates him.  He hates him and he loves him and it makes him sick to think about.
Jett takes away his pain.  But after being with the boy he somehow hurts worse.  His constant headache is nothing to loving someone like this, someone who hates his guts and doesn't like to be seen with him in the light of day.
Gally is here alone, drinking more heavily than he should because he knows he's already fucked himself over beyond repair.  He's caught feelings for the boy who stress bakes as a hobby and once accidently forgot his shirt in Gallys floor.  He'd wanted it back, but Galileo swore he didn't have it.
Galileo is a dirty liar, and he sleeps in it on the nights he's certain the other beta wont be paying him a visit.

I can show up to the same bar
Hear the same songs in my car

Time goes on, and with it goes many things Galileo wishes he could remember.  He doesn't know if its normal to forget, or if its just another side effect of his defective brain.  He only knows that there are things that used to remind him of Raleigh, songs the boy sang and things he did, like holding Gally's hand in the truck or propping his feet on the dashboard, things that remind him of Jett now.  Over time Galileo even started thinking of the passenger seat that had been promised to Raleigh as Jett's spot.   The boy filled every crack and crevice.  Old memories are replaced with his face, how he sneaks into Gally's room at night and orders him around like he owns the place.  His memories are full of coffee stained kisses and claws in his back. Jett's name on his tongue
Sometime he can't recall what kissing Raleigh had been like.  It was another life, lived by a different Gally.
Tonight though, with tequila on his lips and sadness in his heart, Galileo knows Raleigh tasted like sunshine and home, smores in the summer and in the winter peppermint.
Malakai stumbles into his side. Gally forgets everything and catches him.
"Hey there dollface, looks like you're 'bout three sheets in the wind."  He isn't doing any better himself, swaying under the added weight.  It occurs to him that maybe his  last few shots had been  a bad idea.
Malakai doesn't respond, only giggles and rests his head on Gally's shoulder and that's agreement enough.  They are both shit faced, and Galileo has a moment to dread having to call someone to come pick them up.
He doesn't expect Malakai's date to appear at his side, or to reach out and take the boys weight off of Gally as though its just the natural thing to do.  His movements are gentle and measured, and Galileo realizes he is taking great care not to jostle the boy even as he hoists Malakai to snuggle comfortably against his chest.  Mal is too inebriated to make any real sense, but he murmurs something about knights in shining armour and presses his face into the crook of his dates neck.
The man smiles and its kind, almost tender.
"Come on Kai, I think it's time I get you home. I promised your father that I wouldn't keep you out past 12."  His voice is deep and silky, extra soft when addressing the drowsy boy at his chest.
Galileo waits, and wonders.  He can't remember this mans name, but even in his drunken haze he distantly recalls Malakai being smitten with him.  The boy had gone on for hours about how he'd finally found a proper gentleman, and Galileo had listened without paying it any real attention.  Malakai had a new boyfriend all the time.  He'd had no reason to think this one any different.
Until now.  
This guy hadn't been drinking.  Galileo doesn't remember seeing him order anything for himself, and he hadn't pressured Mal to drink, only buying whatever the boy asked for.  Even now, with Malakai disoriented and helpless in  his arms the man was careful not to touch him anywhere disrespectful.
Galileo will keep an eye on him still, but something in the mans eyes lets him breathe easier.  They seem sincere, and he imagines they might be a shade of blue or green.  Mal never mentioned and all he sees is grey.
Gally will let him take them home.  He isn't so drunk that he wouldn't be able to protect Malakai if he needed to, and letting this man drive is much better than having to gather up his pride and make a phone call. He isn't even sure who'd he have called, but he knows they'd have nothing kind to say.

Baby, your memory, it only hits me this hard
When I taste Tequila,
baby I still see ya
Cutting up the floor in a sorority t-shirt

Its a quiet ride for the most part. Malakai falls asleep five minutes into it, and they take turns letting the boy use them as pillows.  Galileo doesn't know the mans name until Malakai says it in a sleep muddled whisper, brushing  lips against his neck.  Gally watches them, and feels a shameful flame of jealousy igniting in his chest, searing his ribcage.  Jett was hardly ever so sweet with him.  Only ever when he's asleep or so drunk he doesn't seem to remember in the morning.
Galileo finds himself staring out the window,  wondering if Jett had waited up for him, if the boy would be happy to have him home.  
They arrive thirty minutes before Eustass's allotted time.  For once the alpha isn't standing at the window waiting on them.  Instead he's inside with the phone pressed against his ear.  By the size of his smile, Galileo guesses its Thatcher on the other end.
Cash carries Malakai inside, but doesn't go up the stairs uninvited.  Instead he gently lowers the boy onto a large couch in the living room, and kisses his hand even though Malakai is already snoring softly and wont ever know,  His lips linger for only a moment, and then he is stepping away and saying his goodbyes, poliet until the moment he walks out the door.
Galileo is glancing around for Jett, knows he's there because his voice is distinct and infuriating and Gally hadn't realized but he missed it so much.
The boy is in the kitchen with Oleander, they are gossiping, their laughter filters through the house.  If he had been sober Gally would have been smart enough to go upstairs instead of making his way into the kitchen.  He obviously isn't  in his right mind,  because he sits down at the table next to Jett and doesn't notice when the talking immediately gives way to an almost hostile silence.
"The fuck do you think you're doing, dip ass?" Oleander regards him like he would something unsavory stuck to the bottom of his shoe.
Gally ignores him.  He isn't here for Ollie, doesn't realize he's done wrong until he turns to Jett and sees the boy scowling back at him much like Oleander had been.
"What the hell are you doing?" Jett's voice comes out as a hiss, and Galileo's memory is jolted enough for him to gather that he isn't supposed to be near Jett unless it's the dead of night and everyone else is asleep.  
Or unless he's done something to piss the boy off.  Jett doesn't mind his presence just so long as they are either fighting or fucking.  
"I uh, I reckon I got lost on my way upstairs.  I s'ppose I might've had a little too much to drink tonight."  
Oleander scoffs at the southern twang to the man's voice, so much worse with alcohol on top of it.  And Jett only stares, his face pinched and angry and Galileo guesses he wont be seeing the boy for anything other than fighting  anytime soon.
He doesn't want to start now though, so he manages to find some manners as he rises from the table.
"Excuse me ya'll.  Sorry to bother ya."  
The talking resumes as soon as he his feet hit the stairs, and Galileo isn't surprised by that.

The same one you wore when we were
Sky high in Colorado, your lips pressed against the bottle

Gally almost locks his door, but even though he dreads having Jett burst in to yell at him he also couldn't stand thinking of the boy coming to his room for anything else and finding himself locked out.  Galileo is coming to realize that maybe he needs Jett a little more than he hates him.
The door stays unlocked.
As he is stripping out of the blue flannel shirt he'd worn out, Galileo can hear footsteps on the staircase.  They are heavy, set in a careful pace.  Gally recognizes the sound as Eustass carrying Malakai up to his room, putting the boy to bed. It's something that happens often enough.  
He showers just in case Jett shows up, tells himself its only because he doesn't want to hear the boy bitching about how he smells like booze. It has nothing to do with wanting the prissy little bastard to lie next to him. He is drunk and disoriented, feels like he is losing time.
And he keeps wondering about Raleigh.  Where is he and what is he doing?
Is he happy?
Did his life get better without Gally in it?

Swearing on a bible, baby, I'd never leave ya
I remember how bad I need ya, when I taste Tequila
When I taste Tequila

He lays in bed, and sips tequila right out of the bottle.  It is the weekend after all.  He has nothing to do and no one to please.  Galileo drinks to keep pace with the ever present throb in his temples, hopes that maybe tonight he could finally drown it out even though that's never worked for him before.
It's been two hours since he came home, and Jett's not here. Gally sees nothing but grey blobs in the darkness, cant make out his mother's face on the wall.
Sometime his mind leaves him entirely.  Galileo feels like he is miles away, lying under the stars in the backseat of Roxanne.  For a moment Raleigh is beside him, but Gally doesn't try to touch.  The boy isn't real, only a figment of his imagination, but it would still feel too much like cheating on a certain little fucker who curses his name cand creeps into his room some nights.
Not that they have anything official going. Gally knows what they are.  Jett has made it clear.  
Gally is more like a dirty little secret he keeps, good sex he is ashamed of having and yet keeps coming back for.  It's all swell and fine unless someone were to find out about it.
Galileo isn't sure how Jett would react to them being outed, but he can already imagine embarrassment coloring the boys cheeks, his lip curled into a snarl if only to hide his mortification.
And then he'd end everything, surely.  It would be easier than defending their relationship against the pack, who'd certainly turn their noses up in disgust.

I ain't even drunk, I ain't even drunk
And I'm thinking
How I need your love, how I need your love
Yeah, it sinks in

That is a dour thought.    The hurt of it settles like a rock in his belly.  But its better than what he had before Jett started coming into his room, when all he knew was bitterness and anger, when he was just lonely and desperate enough to start thinking of an alley miles away and a gun he still keeps hidden inside Roxanne.
Galileo had forgotten about his plan B.  The only thing on his mind for weeks now had been Jett.  The boy has infected his day to day life.  Gally used to think of him with dread, knowing they'd fight anytime their paths crossed.  But that was just early in the mornings and late in the evenings when Galileo had to come and go for work.  
Now it has evolved into an all day, every day type thing.  His eyes open in the mornings, he feels the familiar throb at his temples, and Jett's face is always the first thing on his mind.  If the beta is lucky enough, he will wake with Jett in his bed and spend several extra moments stealing the boys warmth.  Even as he dresses Jett is in the back of his mind, and more often than not he wears red flannel because he knows it's the little fuckers favorite.
Gally sheepishly learned how to work the coffee machine from Malakai, so he could start it before Jett wakes. It gives him the satisfaction of knowing the bastard will have  to think of him, if only while deciding if he should pour out the pot and make more or not.  Even Malakai questioned why he'd want to learn.  Gally never stays long enough for coffee.  The man had shrugged almost innocently, his voice gruff when he passed it off as something new he might like to try.
He still hasn't tried the coffee, and he doubts Jett has either.  It probably gets poured down the drain, but that doesn't stop Gally from making a pot every morning.
Jett is on his mind while he does the most menial things.  He drives, and while he still cant think of it without feeling a rush of embarrassment, he has wondered what Jett might look like in his passenger seat, curly black hair blowing in the wind as he takes over Roxanne's radio because god knows he wouldn't listen to the country station Gally has it set to.
While he works, sometimes tree bark will catch his shoulder.  It leaves a scratch and even that reminds him of small hands and sharp claws.
The boy is everywhere, and Galileo decidedly hates him for it. Even though sometimes it doesn't feel much like hate at all.

When I taste Tequila, baby I still see ya
Sorority t-shirt, the same one you wore when we were
Sky high in Colorado, your lips pressed against the bottle
Swearing on a bible, baby, I'd never leave ya
I remember how bad I need ya, when I taste Tequila

The sun is coming up.  Galileo watches it rise from his bed.  He is still half drunk and his mind has been wandering for hours now so he isn't surprised when he has the sudden urge to call Raleigh up, if only to hear his voice.  It's a selfish thing to want.  Raleigh doesn't owe him a damn thing anymore, especially not the comfort of hearing his voice. He used to call anyways, listen to a familiar southern drawl say hello before hanging up as though he'd dialed a wrong number.
Galileo hasn't done that since Jett made him that cake so long ago.  He isn't starting back now.
The sun keeps dragging across the sky.  Galileo tastes tequila on his tongue.  He can see Raleigh's face behind his eyelids, but Gally is more interested in the sound of Jett's laughter.  He can hear it, slowly moving throughout the house.  It seems as though Jett is going back to his room.  Gally holds his breath, and swears he doesn't feel hope bubbling in his chest.
Jett pauses, but finally bypasses his room.  He walks towards Gally's, and unknowing chases away any lingering thoughts of Raleigh.
The door opens, and even as Jett glares at him Galileo finally feels at home.

When I taste Tequila
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