Cheap Thrills

Jett talks about what it was like kissing Gally, and Oleander feels bile rising in his throat. Just the thought of it is enough to send a shiver of disgust down his spine, but to know it had actually happened and worse, Jett liked it. That knowledge had him suppressing a serious case of nausea. Ollie tries to keep a blank face though, knows that showing his revulsion would only make the boy feel worse about his horrifying lapse in judgement.
Even though he tries, Oleander can't stop his nose from scrunching as Jett admits to thinking of Gally as hot. It's not exactly untrue, but Ollie hates the beta with such intensity he could never think of Galileo as anything other than shit stuck to the bottom of his shoe, a stray his mother keeps around.
But still, for Jett's sake Oleander bites back the harsh words that form against his lips. He doesn't really have to say anything. By the time morning comes and Jett sees Gally in broad daylight, he'll be so ashamed he might never leave his room again.
Ollie blinks as the boys words finally register, his mouth falling open in blatant shock.
"You didn't make him use a condom? Jett have you honestly lost your fucking mind! God knows what kind of diseases he might have." The boy sounds exasperated, and maybe even a little scared as he scolds his friend. "Gally is probably a carrier for some kind of STD! Patient fucking zero and you let him dip it raw. We're going to the emergency room tonight, and you're going to get fully tested." Oleander huffs as though he's already made the decision for both of them, moving to stand so he can dress for the occasion. Soon he's tossed several different shirts at Jett, still shaking his head. "Throw your clothes in the trash bin. I don't care what it is, how expensive it was or where you got it from. It has to go." Jett will be lucky if he escapes without some sort of chemical bath as far as Oleander is concerned.

Jett lets out a childish whine as Ollie tosses a variety of shirts at him, picks one up to swat at the boy with.
"If you think I am getting up and going to the emergency room right now, you are fucking insane, Oleander Taylor." Jett slips a hand in the waistband of his pants and boxers, slides them down just enough for Ollie to see the bloody and bruised mess that is his hip. "I'm barely gonna be able to walk even in the morning but I'm sure as hell not doing it now. So get down here and lie with me because I'm not leaving this bed until this shit heals. You're stuck with me and my new diseases." He smiles slyly at his best friend, hoping that he truly is only joking and doesn't really have any STDs from his activities tonight. It's true that Gally is an asshole but surely even he wouldn't screw Jett without protection while knowing he had some sort of disease... right?
"You know, now that I'm thinking about it, I wonder why he didn't bag it. He always thinks I'm some kind of slut. I hope he's paranoid now too." Jett snickers at the thought, hoping that at the very least he can inconvenience the man by making him go get a few tests done. It's the least he can do as payback for the pain radiating throughout his lower half.

Oleander would have still insisted they go, but then Jett was revealing even more damaged skin at his thighs.  They are a nasty color.  He can see where every one of Gally's fingers had been and it makes his stomach burn, like coals being thrown into a fire. The mans claws had gone deep.  The lacerations are still there.  Jett is lucky to be a werewolf.  If not it would take more than even stitches to fix what Gally's done.  
"Oh my god! Im so fucking telling dad tomorrow."  Oleander huffs, teeth grinding together so hard his jaw hurt.  "That redneck bastard has it coming.  He'll learn to never touch you like that again."  This didn't even look like hate fucking.  It looks more like Gally had ravaged Jett.  He is the monster in story books.  Of course he didn't use a condom.  Despite all the shit he talks Gally knows that Jett is no whore.  Tonight he fucking took advantage of that.   Ollie wants to go and give Galileo a piece of his mind right now, but instead the boy finds himself crawling into bed.  It's what Jett wants, and right now Ollie can't say no.  He knows his friend has to be just as fucked mentally as he is physically.  
They dont have to worry about seeing Galileo the next morning.  He is gone by the time Oleander sneaks out to have a word with him, hours before he's actually supposed to leave for work.

Jett is so exhausted that he doesn't argue for now, only vows to make sure that Ollie doesn't do anything crazy like telling Eustass in the morning. Part of him regrets telling the boy but he knows that he would have gone insane if he hadn't confessed to someone.
The morning comes sooner than he'd like. He had intended on getting up bright and early to avoid Gally and be out of the house by the time the man had to wake for work. So when he wakes and sees that Gally is already gone over an hour early, he is somewhat offended. He is supposed to be the one avoiding here. What the hell does Gally have to avoid? He should be begging Jett for another night like the last.
Regardless of where Gally is, Jett still gets up at the crack of dawn, changes into some of Ollie's clothes and makes his way downstairs to make his morning coffee. His day is spent getting tested and purchasing his morning after pill and condoms, which he tells himself are just in case for whenever he wants to get laid so something like last night doesn't happen, doesn't admit that maybe he's hoping for it to be with Gally again.
Three nights later and Jett is lying in bed, merely staring at the ceiling.
It's nearly midnight and he's still not even close to tired. It's no secret that he has trouble sleeping when he's alone but at this point it's verging on insomnia. It's never been this bad before but he figures it's worse now because he'd been spoiled by having Boyd with him for so long.
Going back to spending his nights in suffocating silence is almost unbearable.
It's bad enough to have him staring at the clock, waiting for the bastard next door to get home from work.
It was three nights ago that they'd fucked and ever since then he'd avoided the man like the plague. He made up something he had to do early each morning and would stay out until Ollie texted him that the coast was clear and Gally was gone. He made sure to be in bed, at least pretending to sleep when the man got home. Tomorrow was the weekend and he didn't know how he'd manage to avoid him all day long but he'd figure something out.
The front door opens then and Jett pretends that he doesn't perk up slightly. Soon, the sound of boots stomping up the stairs can be heard and Jett ignores the way his heartbeat picks up speed. The footsteps continue down the hall and Jett swears that they pause for a moment longer than necessary outside of his door.
But then they continue on to the next room.
Jett listens as the door opens and shuts, uses his advanced hearing to hear every little sound. He hears boots being placed in the closet, a jacket being put away, jeans being unzipped. He pretends that last one doesn't make him shudder. He's been pretending a lot the past few days. Like pretending that spending another night in that room isn't all he can think about.
Jett rolls over in the bed, faces the wall that separates their rooms and lets his breathing return to normal, makes some noise in the hopes that maybe Gally will notice he's not really sleeping. He doesn't know why he's stupid enough to think the bastard would care but he's becoming desperate. He just needs some sort of contact, needs Gally to do something, anything. Even the man bringing up how he'd submitted the other night had to be better than the silence.

Gally isn't surprised when he comes home and Jett is nowhere to be found.  There was a time when he dreaded having to walk in the door because he knew the boy would be inside waiting to make his smart remarks. Gally hated him for it.  Didn't think he could ever miss it. But now, Gally comes home to nothing and no one.  That is somehow worse, and he dreads it even more.
It's been three days since he's seen a glimpse of Jett, and Gally hates him the most for that.  What gave the pretty little bastard the right to climb into his bed and then disappear?  Its not surprising, but somewhere deep in his chest Galileo feels something ache.
He hates Jett for that too.
On the first day, he wasn't sure it had even happened.  He'd woken and thought that maybe it was all just some dream. Gally had stumbled into his bathroom ashamed, guilty and  knowing It wouldn't be the first time he's dreamed of the boy.  
Skin remembers skin, and Galileo numbly raises a hand to his lips.  They are sore and bruised and Gally wont ever forget the way Jett kissed him, how it tasted. The man had gone to the mirror and found proof scratched deep into his back.  
The next two days are a blur of nothingness.  Gally goes to work like he is supposed to.  He comes home, and he pretends that he isn't hoping to catch Jett awake.  Today he was late, had waited around an extra thirty minutes hoping the boy would show up for his morning coffee. And now he finds himself pausing outside the boys door.  Jett has finally managed to wreck him, and the little bastard isn't even around to gloat about it.  
Gally knows It's stupid to even stand here.  Jett wouldn't answer even if he did have the balls to knock.   Gally doesn't have an excuse to do it though, isn't even sure if he wants to swing on the boy or kiss him again. He only knows that he wants to lay eyes on  Jett, that not seeing him is worse than listening to his hateful rants. There is a constant clawing at his ribcage.  Distantly Gally had hoped seeing the boy might soothe him.  It had helped his heachache.  Or at least he thinks it did.  Everything from that night is distorted.  Gally remembers Jett's face, how he sounded and what he tasted like.  He remembers how it felt to have those pretty pink lips pressed against his mouth, and the boys claws digging their way across his shoulders. He can still feel legs around his waist, trembling and soft.  Skin remembers skin, but otherwise Gally remembers nothing.
Pain bursts behind his right eye, and he feels it spreading. Jett isn't coming out, and he has no reason to keep standing here.  Gally lumbers to his room with heavy steps.  The bottle of tequila weighing down his pocket will be his only company.
He shrugs off his jacket and throws his boots into the closet, takes a moment to gaze at his mothers picture now hanging on the wall.  With eyes closed, he thinks of the ocean and dancing and Jett's mouth sliding hot against his. He thinks of blue waves and the sunlight glinting off water, remembers they way Jett's eyes had shined when Gally  finally entered him.  He imagines they would be the color of sunshine on water.  He remembers the way they looked when Jett was leaving.
Suddenly Gally doesn't want to think about this anymore.  It makes his head hurt worse.  It makes him feel numb all over and hollow in his chest.
He strips, throws his shirt in the hamper and his jeans against the thin wall separating him from Jett. It's a moment of childish frustration, and he can almost hear Raleigh's voice in the back of his mind, telling him so.
The spot he replaced is easily noticeable from his side.  He has made no attempts to paint over it or cover it up.   Gally touches it, only for a moment.  Balls his hand into a fist and presses it there, stares blankly at the perfect outline.  
He doesn't really blame Jett for disappearing.  The boy probably thinks that Gally expects something from him now.  That or he's so embarrassed about being fucked by the redneck he looks down on so badly he has just elected to cut things off between them completely.
Gally hates Jett.  Hates his plump lips and sharp tongue.  Hates that it feels like he has all the power.  
Galileo finds his way to the shower, thinking of more reasons to hate the boy with every step.  The water isn't comforting, but he stands under the spray anyways.

Jett hates that he finds himself almost holding his breath in anticipation. He feels Gally coming closer to the wall that separates them and his heartbeat gets just a tiny bit faster as he hopes that the man has taken his bait, knows he's awake and is going to do something about it.
And then, nothing. Footsteps fade away and he distantly registers the sound of the water turning on in the bathroom.
It is a sharp blow to his ego, his pride, realizing that he is lying here listening to every move Gally makes while the other man couldn't care less if he's awake or not.
He hates Galileo Gray.
For a moment, he feels the loneliness seeping into his bones again. The hope of this night turning into something else is gone and he returns to his previous act of staring at the ceiling and waiting for himself to get tired.
"Fuck this." Jett mutters to himself as he tosses the blanket aside.
He's done doing this. The only thing more pathetic than going over there and asking to be fucked is laying here and whining about how he wishes Gally would notice him. What the hell is he turning into? He is Jett Jones and if he wants sex he's going to go over there and get it.
But tonight they're going to do it his way.
He's only in a pair of sweatpants as he slides out of bed and rummages through a drawer of his bedside stand. He stuffs a condom in his pocket before heading to Gally's room.
Thankfully, the door is unlocked. He slips inside and quietly shuts it behind him, heart pounding as he glances around.
He's only been in Gally's room a few times before.
Once to trash it out of anger.
Once to deliver a cake that he had meant to be insulting but Gally took like it was the best gift he'd ever gotten.
Once just the other night, intending on fighting but instead it turned into something else entirely.
And now everything is different.
He plops onto the bed like it's his own, crawls to the middle before sitting cross legged and deciding to merely wait for Gally to return.
Jett has no idea what he will say when Gally arrives. His mouth is dry and his heart is racing and he hates that this is the only thing that has ever made him feel this way. In this moment, he hates Galileo Gray with every fiber of his being. He hates him for making him feel like even Boyd couldn't. He hates him for making him crave his company. He hates him for being so cocky and insufferable. And most of all, he hates him because tonight, he actually doesn't hate him very much at all.

Galileo isn't gone for long.  He didn't particularly want to shower, had only gone in the hopes that maybe  scolding water might wash away thoughts of Jett. it was a mistake.  The hot spray only caused his muscles to ache, made him remember the trajectory of sharp claws making their way across his shoulders. Gally feels the ghost of warm lips against his thighs, sends an almost violent shudder down his spine.  The beta curses softly, does away with the hot water because he refuses to stand here and think of that prissy little bastard next door, refuses to be hard for Jett while the boy continues to hide from him.
Gally leaves the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He pauses in the door way at the sight of someone on his bed.
Not someone- it's Jett.  
Galileo would know the boy anywhere by now, how his shoulders slope and his breath's came. Gally hadn't heard him come in, and  attributes that to the constant pounding behind his eyes.  He always hears Jett's heart beating though, but for the most part he likes to pretend he doesn't.  Tonight he'd been determined to block out the sound of it, stubbornly refusing to listen after feeling so scorned by the boy.  It's childish, and it doesn't do him any favors.  Galileo has grown accustomed to falling asleep listening to the steady sound. He spends more time trying to ignore it now than he does sleeping.  
Gally reaches up to gingerly touch his right temple, realizes he's just been standing here, staring.  He almost wants to believe this is real, because no matter what lies he's told himself he knows that he wants to see the boy, its all he has wanted.  Gally blames his damaged brain, and knows this is a symptom.  It's not the first time he's vividly imagined Jett in his bed, especially since the boy was actually there a few nights ago.
Gally takes a few steps forward, only stops when he's close enough that he could touch the pipe dream sitting on his mattress.  He doesn't try the touching, doesn't think he could stomach it when he realizes it's a side affect of his disillusioned mind and not the pretty beta he so shamefully wants it to be.
Galileo gazes down at the boys face, lips twitching at the sight of him. It's strange, he hasn't seen Jett in days but he imagines him differently now than how he looked the last time Gally laid eyes on him.  The boy looks tired, dark smudges marring the creamy skin beneath his eyes.  It doesn't change anything though. His little illusion manages to be beautiful even still, and Galileo has the sudden undeniable urge to touch it.
"God damn, you really are a peach ain't you."  He reaches out now, because skin remembers skin and maybe if his brain is broken enough he could pretend. "A pretty peach with a pretty mouth and rotten attitude."
It's an understatement to say he's shocked when his callused palm presses against warm solid skin. It sends a small jolt through his system, and Galileo suddenly knows he's fucked up because skin remembers skin and this is real and he is wrecked. The words feel like grit on his tongue, and he wishes he could suck them back in or spit them out differently. He stands there rigidly for just a moment longer, his eyebrows drawn and jaw clenching.  Finally his hand drops, and Galileo seems to realize he is naked and Jett has no real reason for being in his room.  Not that he really needs one at this point.  The bastard just comes and goes as he pleases. Galileo is embarrassed though, now that the fucker has caught him dissociating.  He can feel heat creeping up his chest, all the way to the tip of his ears.  He is pissed, and it sounds in his voice when he speaks.
"What in the actual fuck are you doin' in here Jones?"  Gally finds himself glancing around, eyes searching for his mothers photo on the wall, making sure it's still there and not in some shattered heap on the floor.  It's a relief to see nothing has been touched, but it only makes him wonder more.
Galileo is almost tempted to ask why Jett's been avoiding him, but he'd hate for the boy to think he was missed.

Jett wasn't sure what he'd expected Gally's reaction to be. Anger, probably. Maybe confusion.
But it certainly wasn't what he got.
He hadn't expected the man to simply stare at him for a few minutes in silence, as if wondering if he was really there.
He sits there practically holding his breath, waiting for a reaction. He doesn't expect the man to reach out and touch him while murmuring words almost to himself.
Why the hell is he acting so weird?
Then it's as if a switch flips. Red is suddenly flooding the man's face. He's embarrassed and for the life of him, Jett can't figure out why. And then it hits him.
For the first time since that night, he thinks about when he had leeched for Gally, the excruciating head pain he had felt. He wonders now if it still hurts, if maybe things in there are a little more fucked than they seem.
Thankfully before Jett has long to consider this, things are back to normal. Gally is snapping at him, voice harsh as he questions what Jett is doing in his room.
"Don't sound so pissed now, for a second there I coulda sworn you were happy to see me. Since I'm such a pretty peach and all." A sly smirk slides into place on his lips as he gets up onto his knees on the mattress, hands finding their way to the towel around Gally's waist, dropping it to the ground without waiting for permission.
"Instead of asking stupid questions why don't you lay down and figure out yourself what I'm doing in here." He climbs off the bed altogether in order to make use of his height advantage, nudging Gally back onto the mattress.

Galileo winces as his words are echoed back to him, and in that moment there is no doubt that all he wants to do is strike the boy, lash out and knock him on his pretty little condescending ass.  Gally wants to, but he wont because somehow this isn't the illusion he thought it was. Jett is really here on his bed, smirking at him.
"Don't go gettin' the wrong idea Jones, I ain't ever been happy to see you." Galileo plays it off as though the touching has never happened, talks like he hadn't just been staring Jett down with an expression that could almost be called soft.
He has a chance to be cruel, say something cutting about how Jett had walked out on him only nights before, make a comment about the boy being a whore.
Gally is just mean enough that he might have done that, except the sight of Jett on his bed has somehow made the ache in his chest recede.  It's a cold shock to his system, realizing just how badly he wants the boy to stay.  Galileo bites his tongue, and makes possibly one of the most dangerous decisions of his life.
He is going to play nice with Jett jones.
"You really are a pretty little thing though,  an you sure as hell got that rotten ass attitude I was talkin' about." Galileo wants to touch him again, make sure this isn't simply the most vivid hallucination he's ever had. "Didn't anyone ever tell you it ain't good manners to show up in someone's room uninvited."  His voice isn't as harsh when he speaks.  Sounds more like he's swallowed gravel.
His fingers twitch, palms feeling strangely empty. Galileo balls them into fists and thinks he's doing a good job separating the real from the not real, up until Jett goes reaching for the towel around his waist and everything Galileo thought he knew about the situation has gone flying out the fucking window along with the rest of his good sense.
This is real, and Galileo isn't sure what to make of it.  Jett's never done this.  It's uncharted territory for them.  The little bastard is breaking all their rules and Gally hates it.  He loathes the tiny rush of warmth that radiates in his chest when Jett speaks to him like a person.  Hates that he'd do damn near anything to keep the boy from leaving.
Gally isn't expecting Jett to move, but it honestly doesn't surprise him at this point.  Jett could probably stab him right now and Galileo wouldn't bat an eye.  He isn't sure if this is some kind of truce or all out warfare between them, and he doesn't care just so long as Jett stays.
The boy stands, and Galileo refuses to tilt his head in order to catch a glimpse of Jett's face, no matter how badly he may want to.  He is half expecting that stabbing he thought of earlier, makes him weak in the knees when instead he feels a familiar hand on his shoulder.  His skin flares where Jett's palm lies, and Galileo knows this is real.  
This is real, real, real.
Jett pushes him down, and for the first time in his life Gally doesn't fight it. He sinks onto the bed complacently, green and gold flecked eyes boring holes into the boys face, committing every line to memory. This feels a little like damnation, but Gally is already a sinner so he doesn't mind.  
"Jones?"  It's said as a question, a call to command. Gally looks at Jett, and his eyes are soft in a way they've never been.  He would do anything the boy asked of him right now, just to keep him here.

Gally calls him a pretty little thing and Jett is taken aback by the way his stomach flips. Since when do compliments in that stupid Jeff Foxworthy accent make his knees weak?
It's almost enough to make him panic, to run and never look back. But this is the best he's felt in the past three days and he's not ready to go back to hiding just yet.
Gally is listening to him, lying down on the mattress and staring up at him obediently and he'll be damned if he's not going to take advantage of it. The bastard could have been mean, had all the power to embarrass Jett and send him on his way in tears. But he didn't and for that, Jett hates to say it but he's grateful because holy shit, he needs this.
"Gally?" Jett mocks softly, not nearly as harsh as usual. He's not sure what game they're playing anymore. Gally obeying him wasn't in his plans but he continues with them anyways, slipping out of his sweatpants and lying the condom on the nightstand.
Then he climbs onto the bed, straddles the man's waist like he's done it a thousand times before.
"We're doing things my way this time." Jett's voice is low as he leans in, their noses brushing as he speaks. A clawed hand slips around the back of Gally's neck then, tugging the man in for a rough kiss. He feels the tension leaving his shoulders and lets out a relieved sigh against his will. A moment later and he pulls back, leaving their foreheads pressed together. "I owe you for the fucking mess you made of my hips the other night." His voice is almost a soft growl as his fangs emerge, ocean blue eyes trailing thoughtfully down the man's throat as if considering which area would be best to start with.

Jett means to mock him, but jokes on him because Gally likes the sound of his name rolling off that tongue, not said in hatred or followed by malice.  He doesn't realize it's made him smile, that rare little dimpled look he's only ever given to Jett in the privacy of this room.  Gally huffs, and it sounds almost happy, maybe even amused.
The sound dies as Jett slips out of his sweatpants, Galileo's stupid broken brain catching up to the actual reality of this situation.  
Jett straddles Gally's waist like he's meant to be there, and Galileo feels all the heat in his body rushing south.
"Oh."  He says, soft and stunned and completely aware.  "Oh."
Jett says they are doing it his way this time, his voice so low it sends a tiny shiver down the mans spine. Galileo has never been so anchored.  He doesn't think about the ocean.  The rhythm of dancing is forgotten.  Gally hears the steady thrumming of Jett's heart and it's better than the spin of a dance.  The boy touches him and he's hotter than he's ever been standing on a beach with the sun bearing down on his shoulders
Claws are at the back of his neck, and God, Gally is fucked because it only sends a sick thrill through his chest.  He knows what's coming next, and he opens his mouth to meet Jett's kiss. His headache disappears completely in this moment, chased away by the sigh Jett huff's against his lips.  Galileo's shoulders slump, entire body relaxing as the constant pressure leaves his head. They are so close, and Jett is talking again. Gally hopes the boy doesn't notice when he reaches up to position a slender hand, pulling it from his neck to rest over the right ear, subtly leaving soft fingertips against his temple.  The cocky little bastard says Gally owes him.  It should piss him off, but Gally doesn't have it in him to be mean in these moments. His head doesn't hurt.  He has a warm weight in his lap and he knows where he is, who he is with.  Nothing Jett could do short of leaving would take this away from him.
"Is that right sugar?  Well in that case you better get it while the gettin's good." Before his busted brain remembers that this is a terrible idea, giving Jett all the control.  He has no reason to believe this will end well for him, but Gally supposes he's always been a sucker for pain. The boy leans back just the tiniest bit, Gally watches his fangs emerge and fuck him because even his fangs are beautiful in this light, so close together that Gally can see the little flecks in Jett's eyes.  He wants nothing more than to know what color the are. He is even tempted to ask, but he'd never live down Jett knowing how dysfunctional his mind was.  If the boy knew about that he might leave and not ever come back.
"Don't be shy now sweet peach,"  Galileo cranes his neck, baring one of his most vital spots to Jett and merely hoping the boy doesn't decide to rip his throat out. "Go on an' make your mark."

Gally gives that smile, the genuine one with the adorable dimple that Jett won't admit he's wanted to see ever since he saw it the first time. It makes Jett want to hit him because it makes his heart feel funny, like it's beating about ten times faster than it should. What right does Gally have to be such a bastard and then give him a smile that belongs on the cover of magazines?
Maybe that's the reason he bites down much harder than he had intended. He sinks his teeth into his favorite spot, right at the junction where the man's neck meets his shoulder. A pool of blood gushes into his mouth, some trickling down his chin as he pulls back. Maybe he should be more worried or turned off but all he can do is let out a low groan, hips rutting the bulge forming in his briefs against Gally's groin.
Jett doesn't stop there, merely licks his lips before going back in for more. Within minutes Gally's neck is a mess of hickeys and bloody fang marks and Jett is still nipping at the man's collarbone. He hopes this is sufficient payback, that it will sting as bad as his hips did the morning after the last time.
But despite the bad intentions, Jett still finds himself doing something kind without even realizing just what it is.
His fingers are at work, stroking gentle circles into Gally's right temple because even with the man's best attempts to be discreet, he had in fact noticed his hand being guided there. He had felt the small circle of puckered skin beneath his fingertips and realized what it meant.
Surprisingly, he had decided not to mention it, not to ruin this small truce between them for the night. Still, he hadn't intended on attempting to bring Gally any sort of comfort but here he is, index and middle fingers rubbing away while his thumb rests just where that dimple he enjoyed so much had been only moments ago.
"You're lucky." Jett murmurs as he pulls back, blood staining his fangs. "It was really tempting to rip your fucking throat out while I've got you here all cute and obedient and willing." He trails a clawed finger down the man's throat as if to remind him that this was still an option. "But then I wouldn't get to make you squirm anymore so that wouldn't be any fun."

Sharp fangs sink deep into tender flesh and Galileo is barely able to bite back the whine that rises in his throat.  It's filthy and wrong that he can feel his cock ache at the contact, and he doesn't give a damn about it. Jett rubs against him, and Gally takes a small delight in knowing he isn't alone in this sick pleasure. The pain gets them off.  It wouldn't feel as good without all the bleeding, and maybe that's something only they could ever understand, broken as they are.
Galileo isn't sure if he's supposed to be moving his hands, but he does it anyways because rules be damned. They find their way to the boys hips, fingers nearly matching the places he'd left bloody bruises only three night's before. Jett is kissing his neck, lapping blood off his collar and it reminds Gally of salt water caressing skin.  Galileo remembers that feeling, but for the first time that he can remember he doesn't get lost in it.  Jett is here, petal veined fingers pressing against his face in a way that keeps his mind from wandering.  
Galileo bucks his lips, rocking Jett forward, close enough that he can steal a teeth clanking kiss.  The boy tastes like copper and coffee, the sensation makes his toes curl.
Gally is here. His mind is here.  Nothing hurts, and later he  will think its one of the universe's biggest ironies that the person who hates him most in this world is the only one with the ability to take away his pain.
Jett tells him that he's lucky, and Galileo believes it.
"Now babydoll, it ain't very kind to tease a man who's behaving so nicely."  Galileo's voice is a low southern drawl, distracting while his hand moves down to pinch a soft spot of flesh at Jett's thigh in retaliation. It's a dangerous thing to do, and it gives Galileo a rush of adrenaline to know he is playing with fire.
Jett's hand is at his throat, a clawed finger on his skin. The boy means to be threatening but Gally likes calling his bluff.  He leans into the claw at his throat, doesn't bat an eye as he feels it pressing into his skin.  Jett will have to try a lot harder if he wants Galileo Gray to squirm for him.

Gally calls him babydoll in that smooth southern drawl and Jett is forced to tug his lower lip between his teeth to keep a smile from forming. He's almost successful but not quite.
Thankfully, the faint traces of his grin disappear as Gally pinches his inner thigh. His mouth falls open, unable to stop a soft whine of pleasure from slipping out before he simply stares at the man in shock.
"Sneaky fucking bastard." Jett mutters, almost looks amused as he rubs at the already blooming bruise forming on pale skin. "You don't want to play games with me, Gally. Trust me, you'll lose." As he speaks, he slides back down the man's body, almost slithers like the rattlesnake Gally so often claims him to be. He stops when his face is level with the other beta's groin. Instead of bringing pleasure, he finds the most sensitive spot of his thigh, nestled just beside the man's aching erection. Surprisingly, he presses an almost gentle kiss there before biting down. He's not as rough as he was on Gally's neck, merely wants to leave an impression. He pulls back and admires his work, wiping blood away from the two pinpricks before teasingly trailing the same finger down the man's girth.
Jett stares up at Gally then from his position, head resting on the man's thigh, and for a moment, he can't seem to remember why he hates him so much.
He can't remember ever being so at ease as he is right now, in Gally's bed. It's as if nothing else that's happened between them matters. He can let it slide for a few hours, as long as he can have this.
In this moment, he can't imagine ever leaving this room unless someone forced him.
Later, he will forget. He won't understand why he enjoyed his time with the man he claims to hate so much. But tonight, right now, he knows. He needs Gally like he needs air to breathe, to keep him from suffocating in his loneliness. And he knows that Gally needs him too, for a brief escape from whatever Jett doesn't know about his life.
Jett doesn't know when exactly it happened but sometime tonight, it seems they come to a silent agreement. Neither of them is putting a stop to this, both agreeing to keep their little dance with the devil going just a bit longer.

Jett looks at him, all wide eyed with his pink lips parted in shock and Galileo feels his stomach flip uncomfortably at the sight.  He has thought of Jett as pretty and beautiful, that's nothing new. But here, in this moment, the bastard is somehow cute as a button and Galileo's brain cannot process it. The boy's mouth is moving, so Galileo automatically assumes Jett is threatening him. Gally knows it even if he hadn't caught every word.  And it only adds to what he was thinking earlier. He'd never given much thought to the word cute, but Jett's eyebrows pinch just the tiniest bit when he's mad,  his nose scrunches, pretty pink lips curl into a scowl.
It makes something ache in Gally's ribcage.  
He is used to hating that look on the boys face, isn't sure how to cope with the way it makes him feel now, all warm and flustered.
"I ain't playin' no games with you."  He is watching Jett as the boy slithers down, something akin to reverence in his gaze.
"But even if it was a game, I don't much reckon i'd mind losin' to you right now sweet peach."
Galileo had been expecting some sort of retaliation, but Jett's smarter than he is.  The boy presses a kiss to his inner thigh, and Galileo is so taken aback by the gentleness of it that he is entirely unprepared when Jett bites down.  Gally tries and fails to stop his right leg from jerking slightly at  the shock of it.
"You little shit."  Galileo almost looks angry.  It's only for a split second though, his expression soon melting into something softer. Maybe even affectionate.
"I shoulda knew, huh?"  
The boy is gazing up at him, and for a moment Galileo swears he can see the ocean in Jett's eyes.  He has to reach out, guide callused fingers to the curve of Jett's cheek to know the boy is really there.  He is rude and scrawny and every bit the rattle snake Galileo knows him to be.  Its only now though that Gally realizes he is so much more than that.  He is beautiful, so much stronger than anyone Galileo has ever known-
And Gally can't even hate him for it.  He thinks of the scar at Jett's abdomen, a perfect circular pucker of soft skin.  It has a twin on Jett's back, almost identical.
Galileo knows someone shot him.  
He is a scrawny smart mouthed kid, the prettiest boy Galileo has ever laid eyes on and someone shot him.  
Gally bares his teeth at the thought, curls himself forward just enough that he could catch Jett's neck at the nape.  He leans down to meet the boys lips then, kisses him in a way that leaves blood smeared across his tongue, stains his teeth and dribbles down his chin. It's almost enough to chase away the hurt of knowing someone had left the boy to die.

Gally jumps when he bites him and it brings Jett more satisfaction than he could have ever imagined. And then the man is cursing him, but in a way Jett has never heard before. Instead of anger, he almost looks like he finds it endearing.
"Yeah, you really should have." Jett can't help but laugh, loud and genuine as he nods his head in response to the man's words.
These are uncharted waters. They've never done this before. It's almost like they're play fighting, still speaking harsh words but with no real malice behind them. It feels weird but Jett doesn't quite mind so much. He will play along until Gally decides to piss him off for real.
Jett's still smirking when Gally pulls him in for a kiss. He doesn't hesitate in responding, climbing back into position as slender fingers entangle themselves in brown curls.
By the time they pull apart, Jett is sprawled out atop the man's chest, pressed as close to him as he could possibly be.
"You know..." He murmurs as he leaves their lips brushing, fingers finding their way to the man's temple again. "I like you so much fucking more like this, underneath me." Another kiss punctuates the statement, free hand going to rid himself of his briefs, discarding them across the room. "I'll be your sweet peach any day if it gets you to shut the fuck up for a few minutes."

Jesus, Galileo doesn't think he's ever heard that laugh, not like this.  He's heard Jett giggling with friends, laughing at him but never with him.  It's a noise like no other, happy and genuine, and it continues on repeat in Gally's mind long after the boys gone quiet.  He already knows its one of those sounds his brain will save, filed away with his mothers voice and the sound of feet moving together in rhythm, waves crashing on rock. Something to remember when the silence is deafening.
The boy speaks and their lips brush.  It makes Gally's head spin.
"Is that right?"  His voice is a low drawl.  It feels like his mouth is full of gravel.
"Well damn, in that case I might not ever talk again. And I wouldn't mind it none.  You leave me speechless most days, tulip."
Rough hands have slid down to bracket Jett's waist, gripping tighter than necessary, as though Galileo is afraid the boy might disappear.
Jett's fingers brush his temple, and Galileo suddenly realizes just how close they are.  He is breathing Jett's air, can feel the boys chest moving against his own.  Everything around them has turned to nothingness, all blurred edges and distorted shapes.  Galileo stares into Jett's face, the only thing in his world that's ever been so clear.  
"You though? I don't mind listening to you talk.  I like your pretty little mouth."  Gally tilts his head to steal a kiss, huffs in soft satisfaction as the taste of dark coffee crosses his tongue. They are over stepping so many boundaries tonight. Jett's been in his room nearly an hour now, and they've yet to actually do anything. And whats worse is the time flies by without Galileo noticing. He has never been so content as he is here with Jett's weight on his chest, holding him down in more ways than he could ever actually explain to the little shit. He should be savoring these moments, and he is, but not for the right reasons.
Later he might use the fact that his head doesn't hurt as an excuse for being here. There is no excuse for it.  Galileo savors nothing but Jett, the way their lips slot together so perfectly it causes his stomach to flip. He would worship this boy in any way he asked tonight, hatred be damned.

Jett could lie here all night, listening to Gally praise him in that low Southern tone of his. Hell, that basically is what he's doing. He's lost sight of what he came here to do; show Gally who's boss. Instead, he is smiling at the bastard and sharing kisses that are way softer than they should be.
It's the way his stomach flutters when Gally says he likes his pretty little mouth that finally snaps him back to reality, even if only for a moment.
What are they doing?
Gally is complimenting him and suddenly he's got a thing for an accent that had driven him insane only hours ago. He isn't ready to give up the peace just yet but he does remind himself why he is here. They can play nice for now, but Gally will still remember him in the morning.
Jett had been Gally's sweet peach for a while but now he intended on reminding him that he was a rattlesnake too.
He sits on his haunches as he grabs the condom from the table, tears the wrapper with his teeth a bit too eagerly.
Their eyes meet as Jett rolls it down the man's shaft before climbing back up into his rightful position straddling Gally's hips.
He's nearly shivering with anticipation as he braces his hands on broad shoulders.
"Remember, my way this time. Don't go getting any ideas, cowboy." Jett is still almost smirking, rocking his hips in a way that was meant to tease Gally but manages to elicit a needy groan from him instead as he feels the man's hard on brushing against his entrance.
He hasn't had any preparation but he can't manage to make himself care. As they've established, a little pain seems fitting when they're together. Biting down onto his lower lip, he finally aligns himself, sinks down inch by inch until he is sitting flush against Gally's groin.
"Jesus fucking Christ." The words are spoken in a low shuddering moan. Jett's eyes are almost closed, cobalt blue orbs glazed over with lust as he struggles to hold onto this feeling. He'd forgotten what this bliss had felt like the other night, never wants to again. He wants to remember, give himself a reason to keep coming back for more.

Galileo watches as Jett rolls the condom over his erection, can feel himself twitch at the contact.  Later he will spend hours thinking about what it means for Jett to have brought protection.  He knows it's because the boy sees him as filthy, just like Oleander always claims him to be.  That part doesn't matter.
Jett came anyways, brought his own protection so they could fuck. The knowing causes his mouth to fall open in awe.  Gally wants to say something about it, but then Jett calls him cowboy and the sound of it sends another rush of blood to Gally's erection. He forgets anything he might've said then, cant think with Jett's hands bracing against his shoulders.  The boy is in position, and Gally is willing to give him anything he might ask for, even cooperation.
"I'll do my damndest to try babydoll.  But don't go bein' surprised if my hands wander."  Galileo cannot help his hands.  They seem to find their way to Jett's hips without permission, always needing something to hold so he doesn't start feeling lost.  
He can feel his jaw twitch, a sure sign he is becoming impatient with the waiting.  The man doesn't move though, no matter how badly he wants to buck up into the warmth hovering just above his aching erection.
He forgot preparation was a thing until Jett began to lower himself.  The boy was so unbearably tight, Gally knows he must be in pain.  If Galileo was a better man he'd stop them, make sure Jett was more comfortable.
He isn't a good man though, Jett knows that. Gally doesn't have the strength to stop him, but at the very least he finds himself massaging the boys hips.  His calloused thumbs could almost be called gentle as they press comforting circles into warm skin.  Jett is solid.  He is here and Gally is inside him, its for real and it makes his head spin.
"Oh, sweet Jesus."  Galileo is muttering, more to himself than Jett as the heat engulfs him entirely, causes his vision to explode with colors, all vibrant and bright and swirling like stars above his head. Its not real, but it sure is pretty.  
"Christ almighty, have mercy."  Galileo gasps, mouth hanging open as Jett's face finally comes back into focus.  Those colors have nothing on the boys eyes, even in grey.  He is so tempted to move, needs release more now than he needs air to breathe.  Jett had asked him not to move though, and Galileo feels like he's sold his soul because it doesn't even cross his mind to disobey.  The man merely grunts, ignores the way it sounds almost desperate even to his own ears.
"Move for me sugar.  All this heat might kill a man if you don't."

For a moment, Jett only stares, enjoying the view as Gally gapes and sputters in pleasure. The man grabs onto his hips like he is drowning and Jett is the nearest raft. He holds on for dear life, like Jett is the only thing keeping him afloat.
He could get used to this.
It burns but Jett doesn't mind. He can handle a little pain. Plus, it works as his own form of self punishment for what he's doing tonight, sleeping with the enemy.
Gally begs for him to move, in a voice so desperate that it causes a grin to spread across Jett's face. He really is nothing if not stubborn because even though he needs it just as much, he sits painfully still for a moment longer because if there's anything that gets him off more than screwing Gally, it's being in control of the man's pleasure.
When he finally moves, it's only a tiny rotation of his hips, his own toes curling at the sensation. Slowly, he picks up speed, bouncing atop of Gally until his thighs quiver and his hips are aching. He feels himself getting close and reaches a clawed hand up to wrap around the other beta's throat. He remembers how Gally had gotten off on it the other night, tightens his grip at the thought as he brings them both over the edge. He never stops moving, only settling when he feels the condom ready to burst inside of him and Gally's toned chest is covered in his release.
The only sound in the room is both of their heavy breathing as Jett raises his hips, lets Gally slip out of him with a soft hiss. He removes the condom, lazily tosses it into the trash can by the nightstand before collapsing at the other beta's side. Surprisingly, he makes no move to leave the room, only lays there with his chest still heaving up and down.

Jett sits there a little longer, all pretty and smug knowing he has all the power. Galileo's fingers twitch, familiar with wanting to strike at the boy. He is cursing softly by the time Jett finally decides to move, needing release so badly he can swear he feels a vein pulsating at the base of his cock. The boy rotates his hips just the tiniest bit, Gally bites his tongue to stop a surely desperate sound from leaving his lips.
It catches in his throat, feels almost like a rock cutting off his airway.
Jett keeps moving, and Galileo swallows the rock.
The noise he makes sounds an awful lot like Jett's name.
He wouldn't know where he was right now if someone asked. All Galileo knows is Jett, the only thing in the world he has a grasp on. Jett moves with experience and Gally would hate him for that too if it didn't feel so damn good.
It's a relief when the boys fingers close around his neck. Gally loves that, the pain gets him off and the pressure never lets him forget that Jett is really there.
When he finishes its so intense Galileo swears he can see color. An explosion, gone in a flash. In that time though Gally swears he saw blue in Jett's gaze, so clear and bright he comes again at the sight of it.
The boy paints his chest soon after, and Galileo watches as though he's witnessing something beautiful, like they aren't sweaty and gross and smearing release all over the sheets.
It almost hurts when Jett finally rises, the loss of warmth a shock to his system. The boy does away with his condom, and Galileo braces himself. He is waiting for Jett to leave, gather his things and go just as he did that first night.
It's an honest to god miracle when the boy collapses at Gally's side instead.
Galileo lays rigid, even his breaths unsure. He is afraid to move, more terrified of running Jett off than he'd ever been of his father's heavy hand.
Jesus, Gally loathes this feeling. After the good has gone and reality starts settling in. When he has to be afraid of the moment Jett will leave him alone and goes back to hiding. Galileo tells himself that it doesnt matter. He doesn't want Jett's company. He will go to sleep and none of it will be real come tomorrow morning.
He is a damn liar. It matters to him, even though it shouldn't.
And its a risk to move, but he does. It's a tiny thing. Gally lets his hand slide over, just enough that he can almost reach Jett's fingers. And even then he doesn't immediately touch the boy. He hesitates for a long moment, hopes Jett wont feel it when his index finger gently brushes across a small set of knuckles. Its just enough that Galileo can still feel that he is solid, to know he isnt imagining the sound of Jetts breathing.

Jett should leave.
He knows that. He has never been a stupid boy.
The spell is wearing off, they are both coming down off of whatever high they had been on.
It’s only a matter of time before things get tense and awkward.
And yet, the minutes pass and still, Jett hasn’t moved.
He doesn’t want to leave. The only place he has to go is his bedroom where the silence will suffocate him.
Even if it’s quiet in this room, the sound of Gally’s breathing keeps it from being completely silent. At least he’s not all alone.
At least in here he can pretend there’s someone that cares about whether he wakes the next morning.
The thought of Gally caring about him nearly makes him snort. But hey, even if Gally only wants him around so he has someone to fight with, that’s still caring.
Jett will take what he can get.
So he stays.
He lays there and he pretends that he doesn’t feel when Gally’s hand brushes his.
A moment later and he rolls over so his back is facing the other man. He tugs the blanket over himself and closes his eyes, hopes to pretend convincingly enough that he is sleeping so he doesn’t have to deal with any more talking.
For an insomniac, he falls asleep in record time. He will be gone as soon as the sun rises but for now, maybe he can steal a few hours of peace.

Gally fully expected Jett to hightail it out of his room the moment they finished.  Instead the bastard stays, and Galileo realises too late that the staying is almost worse than the leaving.  At least when Jett runs off he can be pissed about it, fall asleep while cursing the boy to hell and back.  Here can do nothing but lie perfectly still, hazel golden eyes catching every rise and fall of Jett's back.  He knows it the moment Jett's breathing evens out, and he is shocked by the feeling that washes over him. Jett is asleep in his bed.  The pretty little fucker trusted him enough to stay, and that scares Galileo shitless.  
He is lower than low, and no one should put their trust in him.  Jett is playing a dangerous game-
But of course, he already knows.  
And that's even more terrifying.  Jett knows him, and he stayed anyways.
It doesn't go badly.  
Galileo can't move, he is too afraid.  He has forgotten how comforting it is to have another person in bed, not for fucking but just being there, all warm and alive, to remind Gally that he is too.
He spends the entire night watching Jett sleep, and his bed is so warm that he doesn't need to touch the boy in order to know he is real.
It feels like a tragedy when five thirty rolls around.  Galileo stops the clock only a minute before it's due to go off, the first time he's moved since Jett rolled over and fell asleep on him. And still, Galileo doesn't make any move to get up and dress. He knows he needs a shower, and he also knows that once this is over it might not ever come around again.
Gally forgoes his shower, and instead spends an extra thirty minutes enjoying the boy in his bed.  Light is just beginning to spill in through the window, enough that Gally can make out the dark smudge of bruises marring porcelain skin.  He commits the view to memory, and then he does something stupid on impulse.
Galileo Gray bends down and kisses Jett Jones. Its not on the lips. Gally goes for his temple, but its a kiss anyways. Creates a rush of adrenaline so powerful it's almost enough to stop his heart. It's fast, barely there, but it happened.
And after, Galileo finally peels himself away to prepare for the morning.
It's quiet work.  He doesn't think he could stomach the boy waking up in his bed, only to be spiteful right before Gally has to leave.  He has learned to pick his battles and this is not one he wants to fight.
Besides, Jett could almost pass for sweet in his sleep.  When his face relaxes and the creases of anger disappear.  He looks softer, and Galileo likes the view.
He can be honest with himself, at least when no one else is around.
Gally stands there a moment longer, simply soaking in the moment.  It's extremely possible that Jett could leave this room and never return, so he allows himself to indulge.  Galileo doesn't come by much happiness these days.  He takes what little scraps are thrown his way, and he's grateful for every one.
The beta pulls his plush blanket up around Jett's shoulders.  The boy will probably complain that it smells like him, all pine trees and tequila. But its warm and he might just appreciate anyways, even if he'd probably die before admitting it.
Gally slips out without making a sound, holding his boots under one arm until he's made it safely down the stairs and onto the porch. Maybe if Jett sleeps good enough in that bed he might be more inclined to come back to it.
His head aches the moment he pulls out of the driveway, but his lips still tingle with a stolen kiss and that keeps him in a good mood all day long.

Jett wakes slowly, unlike usual. For some reason he can’t put his finger on, he doesn’t want to get up this morning. Normally he is eager to wake and leave his room, go downstairs and make some coffee while waiting for company.
Then he opens his eyes and he remembers.
This isn’t his bed. But he is the only one in it.
For a moment he is offended. He was supposed to be the one that disappeared in the morning. But then he realizes what time it is, knows that Gally just had to leave for work.
His stomach twists as he realizes he shouldn’t care that Gally wasn’t beside him. He tells himself that he doesn’t care for that reason, that he’s only pissed because he didn’t get to ditch the other beta first.
Galileo Gray has definitely helped him get better at lying to himself.
It’s nearly 6:45 and Jett still hasn’t moved. On a typical morning he is out on the porch with his coffee made by 6 o’clock on the dot.
But fuck, it’s so warm. How does that bastard keep it so warm in here?
Finally, he manages to sit up, blanket pooling in his lap. He glances down at himself, groans at all the hickeys and bite marks on his throat and shoulders that have yet to heal. They seem to stay longer than any wounds he’s had before. He doesn’t quite know why but it feels right. Of course Gally would be the only one who could leave marks on his skin.
He’s reluctant to leave the warmth but he knows he better sneak downstairs before everyone else is awake to notice him coming out of Gally’s room. Before he goes, he allows himself to do something he doesn’t even fully understand. He brings the blanket to his face and inhales, taking in the other man’s scent. It smells like Gally, unsurprisingly, all pine and tequila. Jett can’t help but wonder if the pine is from some sort of cologne or shampoo or if it’s all natural. Whatever it is, it’s enough to have shivers tingling down his spine. He finds himself smelling the stupid blanket for far too long and by the time he puts it back down, his cheeks are tinged red because it might seem like a simple thing to do but it’s much more than that.
It’s the first time he’s admitted to himself that he liked something about Galileo Gray.
This realization is still settling in as he dresses and makes his way downstairs. He definitely could use a shower but he’s already enough behind schedule and if he doesn’t get his coffee soon, he might not make it through the day.
He is practically tiptoeing through the home, doesn’t settle until he reaches the coffee pot as if he’s scared Ollie is hiding somewhere, ready to jump out and scold him for sleeping with the enemy again.
Regardless, he pulls out his phone and sends a text to his best friend, despite the fact that the boy is sleeping just upstairs.
“Might have fucked Gally again. Sorry, I’m weak. Details to come when you wake up.” Jett follows the message with a kissing emoji before busying himself with his morning coffee. He’s thankful for the simple, every day task. It’s enough to keep his mind from racing.

Five minutes after Jett sends the text there is the distinct sound of someone rushing down the staircase, and only seconds later Oleander is sliding into the kitchen.  The boy doesn't look as though he's been awake for long, but his eyes are wide and the downward slant of his mouth promises that he is fully aware.
"Jett, did you really?"  
The boy catches sight of  dark bruises against pale skin on Jett's neck and rolls his eyes so hard he almost gives himself a headache.
"Of course you did."  Oleander pops his tongue disapprovingly, even as he sits down at the table to await all the dirty details.
"Well it better have been fucking amazing because your neck looks terrible. Did you guys fuck again this morning or something?"  Surely if this had been last night the hickies would have already healed by now.  They must be getting along better than Jett let on. That or the sex is really as good as Jett says and feelings be damned.  Ollie could understand that.  Sex with Carter is so good he is willing to ignore the fact that he is what most would call a homewrecker.
"You have to tell me what Gally is packing.  Like what did he do in order to get you so drunk on that dick?"  Oleander is leaning forward now, eyes glinting with genuine curiosity. At this point he isn't even trying to judge anymore. He just honestly needs to know what kind of voodoo southern magic Galileo is pulling in order to draw Jett into his room at night.