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Do Tell, My Love

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Since the day they saved the world, Lio’s spent most of his nights on an air mattress on Galo’s floor, staying up too late and sleeping with one eye open. It’s about two in the morning now, way past Galo’s bedtime, but Lio is awake and that means Galo is awake, just in case.

In case of what, Galo can't say. Lio's only impulsive when he’s under pressure and it’s not like he’s expecting Galo to stay up half the night just for him. But Galo knows what it’s like to feel suddenly, desperately alone in the middle of the night and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone. There’s enough time to sleep at the station, if he’s sneaky about it. Wouldn’t be the first time he napped in the firetruck.

Galo glances over at Lio’s slim form. Stares, really, but if Lio notices (he probably does) he says nothing. Lio’s curled up like he’s trying to look smaller than he already is, facing Galo’s general direction but not looking at him. He’s apprehended Galo’s e-reader more or less permanently—saying that he hasn’t had a chance to finish a book in at least a decade and reasoning, correctly, that Galo almost never reads anything but manga—and he’s deeply absorbed in whatever he’s got on it, or at least pretending to be.

Tonight, though, Lio doesn’t quite seem like himself.

It’s weird, Galo thinks, that he even knows what Lio not being quite himself looks like. He’s known the guy for, what, a month? But that was long enough to learn how brightly Lio normally burns (literally before; figuratively now). Lately he’s just seemed... tired. Which is fair; rebuilding Promepolis is just as hard as tearing it down was, and it’s taking a lot longer, and neither of them is any good at taking breaks.

When they were in the Galo de Lion, fighting as one, there was a moment when Galo felt like he knew everything about Lio. But the feeling was fleeting, and soon they were two people again and Galo was left to figure out just where to go from there.

(He misses it, sometimes. The inside of Lio’s head is a surprisingly nice place to be.)

They’re learning each other for real now, almost from scratch but not quite. Lio likes his coffee black, and has trouble remembering that it can burn his tongue now. (Galo sneaks an ice cube in sometimes.) He refuses to go shopping when there’s a million more important things to do, and Galo lets him borrow his clothes without question, but sometimes he sneaks glances at half-burnt billboards featuring models wearing tight leather or fitted suits. (Maybe Galo can figure out when Lio's birthday is and take him to buy something nice.) And he seems rude sometimes, but it's rarely on purpose, and never when it's directed at Galo.

That's a pretty short list of things so far, but it's okay. They have time to figure it out.

“Hey,” Galo says, shifting to sit with his legs crossed on the bed—the real bed. The first night he stayed over, Lio said that Galo was too damned tall to sleep on the air mattress, and for some reason Galo got too self-conscious to mention that Lio was small enough that they could both fit, so they ended up with this awkward arrangement where Lio is technically a guest but still sleeping on the floor.

(Lio was supposed to leave after a few nights here, as soon as he had somewhere else to go. He didn’t, and Galo would sooner die than ask him to leave.)

“Hey yourself,” Lio mutters. Not angry, the way he gets when he’s actually trying to concentrate. Just tired.

“You good?”

Silence. Lio sets the e-reader to the side. He stares at Galo for a solid thirty seconds that feel like an hour, expression unreadable.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he finally replies, sounding thoroughly unimpressed.

It was a stupid question, objectively. Nobody is good these days. But Lio knows what he means.

Galo elaborates anyway: “Not good in the big picture, all together, but right now. Like, do you need me to adjust the thermostat? Are the pillows okay? Do you need someone to talk to? Just say the word and I’m ready to help.”

“I’m fine,” Lio says, and then: “Just can’t sleep well these days.” He clutches his blanket closer to his chest, as if to emphasize. “It’s always cold.”

Galo practically leaps out of his bed from the sheer excitement of having a concrete way to help. “I’ll turn down the AC!” It’s the middle of August and it’s already way warmer in his apartment than he prefers, but if Lio wants it warmer, that’s what he’ll get.

“Mmm. Not what I meant.”

“Oh yeah? Then some hot tea, or—”

Galo stops short when Lio tugs down the neck of his shirt, exposing pale skin and almost too-frail collarbones. “Warm me up?”

If Lio is trying to burrow into his blankets to stay warm, he’s not doing a very good job at it: they’re barely twisted around him, leaving his slim legs exposed. Galo’s gaze travels there and then higher, up to the baggy shirt that Lio borrowed on his first night here and hasn’t given back. The sight of him dressed like this always makes Galo’s heart beat faster, and for the time being he tries not to focus on the fact that Lio probably isn’t wearing underwear.

He’s got to concentrate, has to force himself to look Lio in the face instead of checking him out. One of the first things Lio insisted on buying at the nearest corner store was lip balm, and Galo suddenly, desperately wants to know how mango-mint tastes on Lio’s mouth.

Lio frowns. “Well?” he says. “Don’t just stare.”

And Galo gets it, of course. He’s not that dumb.

The mattress barely fits Galo by himself, honestly, but Lio is svelte enough to be comfortable on it. If Galo wants to join him (and oh, he does) there’s really no option that doesn’t involve either getting on top of Lio or being halfway on the floor. He opts for the former, lowering himself onto it with his hands on either side of Lio’s head. There’s a certain look in Lio’s eyes, not entirely unfamiliar. It’s the way he looked at Galo right before they got to saving the world, and the way he looked at his first meal afterward. There’s something that he wants, Galo realizes, and he knows he’s about to get it.

"Is this good?" Galo asks, suddenly unsure. Not because either of them doesn't want this, but because he might want this too badly.

It’s not like he hasn’t done this before, but when Lio strokes his face with his hand—his touch tender yet firm—he suddenly forgets everything he knows about kissing and also anything else. All there is in the world is Lio’s hair splayed across the pillow, Lio’s thumb tracing the outline of his lips, and the subtle flush across Lio’s cheeks.

“Good,” says Lio, voice husky. “That’s where I want you.”

Galo’s mind may have gone blank, but Lio can figure out how to make up the difference. The smaller man wraps his arms around Galo’s shoulders and pulls him down, and Galo finds himself forced into a sudden, rather unceremonious kiss. Their teeth click together, and Galo’s instinct is to pull away and try again but Lio holds him firm. His slim arms can’t do that much to really restrain Galo, but Galo would do anything this man asked of him and then some.

Lio naturally sets the pace—slow, firm, deep—and Galo welcomes it it. It almost feels like he’s saving Lio again: Lio kisses him like he’s drowning and Galo’s the only source of fresh air. They’re sharing breath now, too, only this time the one thing that Galo’s desperate for is for Lio to feel cherished.

Their kissing only stops when Lio lets it, and Galo pulls away just slightly, just enough to see Lio’s face, eyes soft and the hint of a smile on his face. Galo’s never seen anything more beautiful in all his life.

“I thought you were sad,” Galo says, pushing strands of Lio’s hair back, out of his eyes.

Lio frowns—pouts, more like. It’s cute, though he probably wouldn’t appreciate having that pointed out. “Who said I was sad?”

“You have a lot going on. We have a lot going on.” The correction sounds good. We feels nice in his mouth, almost as nice as Lio’s tongue. “Anyone’d be feeling a lot of things right now.”

It’s not quite agreement, but Lio hums in a kind of “I see” sort of way.

“Do you need to talk?” Galo asks. “Instead of kissing?” He’s good at talking. But he could be good at kissing, too. So it’s a win-win, really.

“You always want to talk,” Lio says, which is true. If Galo doesn’t do more than his share of the talking, his tiny apartment will be quiet even with both of them in it. Before Lio was around, he would play music almost nonstop through shitty speakers to break the silence, but having someone else to talk to is even better.

“I like talking to you. Why wouldn’t I?”

Lio manages something that sounds like a chuckle and taps Galo on the nose affectionately. “I wish I could live in your head for a day. Everything seems so simple in there.”

Before Galo can respond, Lio somehow manages to find one of his nipples and pinches it, sending a jolt straight to his cock. He can’t stifle the moan, and Lio offers him a real laugh in return. “See?” Lio says. “Simple.”

“I’m not simple just because I like it when you touch me,” Galo protests, quite weakly.

“It’s not the only reason. But I’m starting to think it’s my favorite.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Now, why aren’t you touching me back?”

It’s an invitation and a challenge in one, and Galo is welcomes them both when they come from Lio. He tugs Lio’s shirt—his own shirt, technically—up and shimmies it off of him, revealing an expanse of bare skin, soft and unblemished. He’d guessed correctly that Lio hadn’t been wearing underwear, and Galo feels a surge of accomplishment that Lio’s cock is hard between his legs from just the kissing.

For now, he’ll start by figuring out what Lio likes. He has a few ideas already, and the sight of Lio like this, his body so inviting, is making Galo remember everything he’s ever thought about doing with him. Lio whispers yes when Galo’s lips touch his neck, arches his back at the slow drag of Galo’s hand down his chest and his stomach.

And god does Lio gasp prettily when Galo travels back upward to kiss him again, this time drawing his lower lip into his mouth and sucking on it firmly.

“Stop teasing already,” Lio mutters when they break the kiss. His voice is soft, but there’s a familiar bite to it.

“Mmm, maybe,” Galo says. “You meanie.”

“Trying to get me to play nice, Galo Thymos?”

“Nah, I’m into it.” And Galo kisses him again twice, once on each cheek, as though to prove his point. “Keep being a meanie.”

Lio’s hands are small and there’s not much power behind them, really, but Galo is more than happy to let Lio grab his face by both sides and pull him in closer and kiss him back, rougher than before. Galo wonders if he had just been looking for permission to rough him up, because when he gets Galo’s lip in between his, instead of sucking on it he bites, hard enough to draw a bit of blood.

And then Lio grabs him by the hair, and practically shoves him into his crotch and god is Galo into that. Maybe it wasn’t enough to ask Lio to be just a little mean.

From between Lio’s legs, Galo offers him what’s meant to be a small, sexy smile and he’s pretty sure is actually a big, dumb one because Lio chuckles. That’s okay; he likes making Lio laugh.

He’s going to like making Lio moan, too. That much he’s sure of.

Galo flicks his tongue across the tip of Lio’s cock, licking off the precum that’s already beading there. The salty taste spreads through his mouth and reminds Galo just how goddamn long it’s been since he’s gotten to do this to anybody, let alone someone who he’s definitely at least a little bit in love with. A part of him wants to draw this out even longer, to stroke and suck Lio off slowly and slowly take him apart until the sun rises.

“Don’t make me wait,” Lio says, as though he’s reading Galo's mind. Maybe he is; he punctuates his words with another tug and all the hair on Galo’s body stands up on end. And so what if he did? Would Lio keep pulling, would he eventually force Galo onto his cock, shove him all the way down and make him choke on it? It sounds like a win-win, really.

(But. He doesn’t make Lio wait. Maybe next time.)

Galo allows Lio to guide him to his dick almost gently, and when he wraps the his lips around the tip, Lio gives his hair a fond stroke. “Good boy,” he says, and the praise makes Galo feel a little bit dizzy.

Never one to do things by halves once the job has started, Galo takes as much as Lio as he can into his mouth and sucks, hard. Lio, surprised, jerks his hips up too fast and makes Galo choke on him a little. It’s too much, but not in a bad way, and Galo is able to recover easily enough as Lio mumbles something like you eager idiot. He’ll file that thought away for later, too.

For now he dips his head back down, trying to take just a little bit more of Lio into his mouth. Once he allows himself some time to adjust, he’s able to take most of the length inside of his mouth comfortably, and he can hear Lio suppress another moan as Galo begins to bob his head up and down, sucking and tasting every inch of him.

Lio’s hands are still lightly laced in Galo’s hair, and he tugs on it in time with his gasps and groans as Galo savors his length as slowly as he can bear. Then there’s an especially loud gasp, and then Lio pulls, and Galo is suddenly very aware of his own erection, making a tent in his pants and rubbing tantalizingly against the mattress.

Breathless, Galo allows himself to be pulled off. “Too much?” he asks, pressing soft kisses against Lio’s thigh.

“Gonna come,” Lio mutters. “Didn’t want to surprise you.”

“I like your surprises.” Galo replies, already thinking about asking Lio thrust back into him and use his mouth like a toy and force him to swallow his hot come. “Let me finish you off.”

He dips his head once more, this time to the base of Lio’s cock, and kisses everywhere he can reach: his thigh, the nook where his leg meets his body, and finally his sac. Lio tastes clean and smells of the slightest natural musk, and Galo can’t resist taking one of his testicles in his mouth. He appreciates its shape and its weight as he sucks, hears Lio gasping his name as a pleasant melody to accompany his loving administrations. He’s so, so close.

It’s easy enough to make Lio climax after that. A few quick jerks with his fist wrapped firmly around Lio’s cock and Lio is trembling, coming, choking back a scream. Some of Lio’s come lands on his shoulder and across his back, and fuck is that hot. Lio might have been right to stop him from choking on it, but Galo wouldn’t have minded wearing it across his chest like a medal of honor.

He lets Lio ride out his orgasm and waits for the weak tug on his hair when Lio’s done. Only then does Galo sit up on his knees so that he can admire is handiwork: Lio sprawled on the air mattress, sweating and disheveled, lips parted and kiss-swollen and breathless.

“Who taught you how to do that,” Lio mutters.

“You’re gorgeous,” Galo answers, pushing a sweat-soaked lock of hair out of Lio’s face. “Can I kiss you?”

Lio halfheartedly puts his arms up, beckoning. “Come here, you big handsome idiot.”

Somehow lying back on top of Lio feels so natural, like their bodies have fit together like this a thousand times already. Galo thinks about seeing if somehow he can link with Lio’s mind again like this, and then thinks better of it. On top of that being ridiculous, he doesn’t need to. They can understand each other just fine like this.

He kisses Lio, feeling as sex-drunk and lazy as he would be if it had been him getting sucked off, and lets Lio savor the taste of himself on his lips.

“You’re still hard,” Lio says between kisses, then yawns.

“Next time,” Galo says, and Lio doesn’t disagree about the prospect of a next time. “Tonight I just wanted to suck all of the stress out of your body through your dick.”

“That’s...” Lio frowns, kisses him again. “Oddly sweet.”

“Did it work?”

Lio lazily pets his hair, and it’s nothing like the pulling from before but it still sends a pleasant shiver up Galo’s spine. “It did. You were great.”

That’s really all that Galo needs to hear to be satisfied. He lets his head rest on Lio’s chest, lets Lio murmur sweet boy while he runs his fingers across the shaved part of Galo’s scalp.

“Galo?” Lio says after a few minutes, and Galo, realizes he’d been halfway to sleeping too. “It was so great I messed up the sheets down here, and I don’t really want to sleep in them.”

“Oh. That’s no problem, I have a whole real bed.”

“Hmm,” Lio says. He doesn’t object, so clearly giving him the best blowjob of his life (probably) got Galo somewhere in terms of sharing the bed. “Fine. Get up.”

Galo scrambles off of him and into the bed, and Lio joins him as soon as he find a clean pair of Galo’s boxers to pull on, this time without a shirt. (It’s the first thing he grabs... maybe. He looks good in Galo’s clothes either way.)

“I could do that again,” Galo yawns as Lio climbs into bed next to him, curling up against Galo’s chest. “Whenever you want.”

“You’ll regret that. I’m not good at falling asleep at a normal time, so you’ll end up dragging me into bed more often that not.”

“I would love to drag you into bed more often.”

Lio laughs against Galo’s chest and burrows into it deeper like he’s trying to jam the two of them back together. “I thought that might be the case, Galo Thymos. I’m looking forward to it.”