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Lio has had a headache of a day.
It’s been decades— and decades, and decades , he’s been alive for a long time now— since Lio remembered fire actually hurting him. But that decades of experience just has you used to certain actions, like being up to hold a pot without a hot pad. So Lio burned his hand boiling water for pasta, earlier. And on the cast-iron when he was making steak. Generally, Lio is supporting his local drug store more than any person alive right now with the sheer amount of bandages and burn cream he buys.
It’s fine. Everything is fine. Learning that part of your identity is actually an interdimensional creature you had to say goodbye to leaves maybe a little bit of trauma, but that’s why he’s seeing Dr. Jiminez once a week.
It helps with… a lot. A lot more than Lio will ever admit. But on days like this , where he’s sitting on the couch ( the couch, not his) wrapping his fingers and praying that the blisters won’t be as bad this time, all the therapy in the world isn’t going to help his mood. And neither is Galo’s fucking music blasting from his bathroom.
Right.
Lio didn’t have a home to go back to after everything was said and done. And everyone acts surprised , like some landlord would be willing to rent out to the leader of a terrorist organization. So yes , Lio lived in a Burnish settlement. The one that got raided. And now most other settlements are dissolving as Burnish individuals re-enter society. The news is filled with constant reports and government officials squabbling daily about what to do about displaced Burnish individuals, how to have them re-enter society. It frustrates Lio to no end, that they’re still commodified and de-humanized after a Burnish stopped the world from falling apart.
(His therapist says he needs to let go of the anger. To use it as fuel for something productive , so maybe Lio has been working overtime in rebuilding the city, looking more into housing for the displaced Burnish folk.)
Lio was displaced. And was fully ready to sleep on an air mattress in an abandoned building, but Galo with his stupid (read: endearing) optimism insisted Lio came to live at the Burning Rescue establishment. It wasn’t a choice, so much as Lio was dragged by the arms, unable to resist because he was so exhausted. And on days like this, Lio hardly considers it a home. He is still an outsider. And Galo is driving his nerves up the fucking wall.
The man has very little common sense, Lio decided a long time ago. He didn’t realize that would extend from fighting to his daily life, to the point where Lio has to frown when the door swings open and Lio just scowls at the sounds Don Broco playing and the sight of Galo gently toweling his hair dry. It’s surprisingly long when it’s not styled up, sitting just below his shoulders. At least the man has the decency to wear sweatpants, instead of stepping out in a towel like he usually does.
“Your music taste is bad,” Lio says, tightening his bandage and pinning it down in place. “And you should feel bad.”
“Ah,” Galo gives Lio one his annoyingly bright grins, and lowers the towel from his hair. “You’re in one of your moods, then.”
Lio doesn’t grace Galo with a response. Instead, he crosses his arms, flopping dramatically back against the couch. He has yet to eat at this point, because he keeps burning his fucking hand. Galo just rolls his eyes, reaching for his phone in his pocket and pausing the music, before tossing the towel back into the bathroom. Lio knows he won’t pick it up until someone yells at him for it later.
“You can at least make room on the couch,” Galo starts walking over, moving the pile of blankets by picking them up and dropping them on Lio. That’s another thing-- ever since the Promares were sealed away, Lio has been unbearably cold. He got used to running hot, and after he while he hardly felt it. He could wear full latex in the desert and be fine. But now?
Now Lio tugs the sleeves of his hoodie up, drawing his legs to the couch and scowling. “What do you want? ” Lio hisses. “Don’t you have things to do today instead of finding more ways to bother me? Like rebuilding a city?”
“Day off,” Galo explains simply, reaching for the T.V. remote and kicking his legs up to rest over top the blankets. “Aina threatened to, and I quote, shove my body into a wood chipper and rebuild the pieces into a couch if I didn’t relax today.”
“And?”
“And now I’m marveling at the fact that I can do nothing!” Galo replies, opening his arms in exaggeration before pulling Netflix up. “Weren’t you making food?”
Lio doesn’t want to even grace that with a response. Instead, he tugs one of the blankets from underneath Galo’s leg, annoyed about the fact he’s so demanding about touch. The man is so stupid , Lio wants to throttle him a little. Instead of acting on the twelfth urge to yell today, Lio wraps the blanket around his shoulders a little tight, scowling at the screen instead.
At least Galo picks up on that. He spares Lio a concerned look, before choosing some god-awful superhero movie on Netflix and tossing the remote back down on the couch, where it’ll be inevitably lost to the void.
A shame that Galo can’t go more than a few moments without talking.
“You know,” he starts, reaching to separate pieces of wet hair over his shoulder. “Just getting moody and acting like a cat isn’t going to make your problems magically disappear. Do you wanna talk about it?”
Lio’s grip on the blanket tightens a little, and he glares at Galo from the side. “If I wanted to talk about my problems,” Lio’s voice is tight and a little sharp. “I would call my therapist and ask if she had an opening today.”
“You burned your hand,” Galo points out. Now it’s Lio’s turn to roll his eyes, going to focus on the movie instead of Galo’s obvious observations. “It’s gotta suck feeling that kinda pain again. Nothing like the Promares, is it?”
Lio is about to ask how Galo would know , why he even cares, until he abruptly remembers giving a piece of his Promare to Galo. But the few moments of having Lio’s Promare versus decades of having it can’t compare. Of course, Galo’s empathy probably went into hyperdrive , because that easy smile fades more into concern the longer Lio stays quiet.
“You can’t empathize,” Lio finally says after a moment. “You don’t need to try.”
“And everyone calls me stubborn,” Galo scoffs. “Have you even told your therapist you almost died?”
"Yes,” Lio lies. “Have you told the entire team you kissed me?”
Maybe that was the wrong thing to say, because now it’s Galo’s turn to get a little prickly. Lio almost wants to apologize for it, watching the concern switch to annoyed, and then hearing the huff of frustration. “...No,” Galo finally admits.
Then Galo should fuck off with his high and mighty stuff when it comes to breaching the topic of felings. It’s no secret to anyone with a pair of eyes that they’re rather touchy, but Lio tends to blame it on the hours they spend together. If they’re not talking to someone about rebuilding the world, then they’re usually hanging out around either other, usually Galo with his legs over Lio’s or his head in Galo’s lap. It’s nothing sexual, nowhere near romantic, but someone usually has a smart comment about how they share a mecha once and now they can’t separate from each other’s side for more than a few moments. Lio is willing to point out that he hates sharing a sleeping space with anyone.
But it’s wrong to be upset and angry with himself for his own traumas, and turning that outward to hurt others. “Sorry,” Lio finally manages. They never talk about the kiss, about Lio practically dying, but he can see that it makes Galo uncomfortable. “I shouldn’t have used that against you.”
“You were dying,” Galo’s fingers trail down the piece of his hair, and he flicks that water in Lio’s direction. “A kiss seems like a small price to pay for keeping you alive. Even if it was my first.”
Lio’s lips quirk up a little. “I don’t remember it at all. Sorry.”
It was hardly Lio’s first kiss, but he can’t lie that it’s… cute. The fact Galo’s first kiss was to make sure someone didn’t die , but it’s a shame he doesn’t remember it. Look, the fact of the matter is Galo’s tall and wide , and a huge idiot that’s easy for Lio to boss around. Nothing they do is sexual or romantic, maybe mild flirting at the most, but it’s not like Lio is above…
Thinking about it. Call him a little gross.
And it feels a little like whiplash, how easily Galo can tug him out of his moods with just a witty comment or two. “You don’t remember?!” Galo practically screams it. He practically screams everything, but this one is a decibel louder, so that’s how Lio knows. “How do you not remember? How was it not the best thing in your entire goddamn life?”
"It couldn’t have been that good if it was your first,” Lio teases. His grip on the blanket loosens only a little bit, but it’s a sign that he’s relaxing. At least Galo isn’t all angry with him for bringing the kiss up, and can play it off easily enough. “I’m sure you were clumsy about it.”
“Clumsy?” Galo practically explodes, shooting off the couch and making the remote drop to the floor. “Clumsy? I have never been clumsy a day in my life--”
“You look like a wet dog right now.”
“You are changing the subject. I am not clumsy , I am dignified and respectable and I know that if you were awake you would have said it was the best kiss of your life,” Galo proclaims. Like he knows what Lio would say ever.
Even if Lio did remember all of it, he wouldn’t say it was the best kiss of his life. If only to see Galo blow up and get all defensive like he is right now, practically pacing around because Lio had the audacity to knock his ego down just a little. He’s about to say something really smart, just to goad Galo a little more, when he stops and snaps his head in Lio’s direction.
“Let me try again,” Galo demands. “Right now.”
Lio’s fingers twitch on the soft fabric of the blanket at that. Let him try again. Like there’s something to prove for the both of them, and-- maybe there is. Maybe they tiptoe around this subject a lot for a reason, and that reason being how Galo was upset when he kissed Lio the first time. Lio presumed he wouldn’t want that to happen again. And then, well, the twenty-four consecutive hours happened after that kiss, and suddenly Galo didn’t seem to mind being close to Lio. No complaints from that point forward, and when anyone points it out, Galo laughs a little and seems to inch just a bit closer. And if Lio is resting his head in Galo’s lap, his hand always manages to come around to stroke Lio’s hair.
Lio opens his mouth to tell Galo no, that he has nothing to prove. It’s such an absurd concept, he just wants to laugh it off and tell Galo to shut up.
“Take me to dinner at least,” he says instead, eyes looking past Galo’s shoulder. Pretending he can make eye contact, but if he looked Galo in the eyes right now, he would give himself away. “I could really use it, considering I forgot how to cook.”
“Yeah, but I just brushed my teeth, so this is much more optimal,” Galo grins, striding back over to crawl over Lio. And oh, he’s realizing very quickly how much bigger Galo is, and it makes him squish against the back of the couch while Galo braces his arms on either side of Lio.
Galo is an idiot. An endearing idiot, but still, he rushes into everything head first. Lio has to think fast, and the only thing that comes to mind is getting a grip on the back if Galo’s head, and yanking him away by the hair. He’s not going to comment on the noise Galo makes, and the way it makes Lio feel.
“Hold on, you absolute dolt,” Lio demands. “Did I actually say you could kiss me again?”
Lio isn’t going to admit how much he wants it. He hasn’t really approached that thought a whole lot, maybe a few times when he’s alone and a little drunk in the bedroom he stays in. That’s all. And that’s Lio’s personal business, as far as Galo is concerned. “You got a freebie the first time. I’ve got standards, Galo Thymos.”
This might be pushing it. His grip in Galo’s hair loosens a little, but the shocked expression doesn’t leave for another moment. If he stays quiet any longer, Lio is going to write this off as a bad idea-- he’s fairly close when Galo starts pulling his arms back, and his hands settle in his lap.
“What do I have to do, then?” Galo asks, and Lio recognizes the smile tugging at his lips. “If you’re making demands. Don’t say dinner again, because I have like, no money.”
Lio thinks on that. It would be funny to make Galo take him out to dinner, and just dote on Lio for a whole evening. It might even be cute to see if he would bother cleaning up a little, but Lio quickly decides that can wait for another time.
“Say please,” Lio finally decides. “And I might.”
Galo seems to contemplate that, looking at Lio with those wide and intense eyes. Lio thinks he can finally manage it, when he looks at Galo and can meet his gaze. They both know how long they’ve danced around the subject, why they don’t deny how different their relationship dynamic is in comparison to everyone else. Lio gives Galo’s hair another gentle tug, just to watch him properly comprehend exactly what Lio’s intentions are.
“God,” Galo finally manages, tone only mildly exasperated. “Please.”
“Please what, Galo?”
“Please let me kiss you,” and that’s what Lio wanted to hear. He lets his hand fall to the back of Galo’s neck, pulling him just a little closer. Just enough to give Galo permission without having to say so.
Galo noticeably hesitates a little. Just like Lio thought , he’s all bark and no bite when it comes to confidence in these scenarios. His lips barely quirk up, waiting on Galo to inch closer. “Well? Come on now.”
“Give me a second,” Galo huffs out, reaching to place his hands on Lio’s hips. The motion is cute, if not intimate, and Lio’s forced to come to terms with how close they are all over again. His chest feels a little warm, not at all similar to the Promares life force inside of him, but more like affection.
That's how Galo makes him feel. And maybe it’s only a little fucked up to chase those warm feelings in some vain attempt to recreate having the Promares again, of being a Burnish , but now he feels like the Burnish identity lies elsewhere. It means something new, now, and Lio should learn to let go every once in a while.
He thinks Galo can do that.
Lio lets his eyes slide closed for now, giving Galo more opportunity. Like he needs any more hints to get a move on with it. It seems to give Galo some form of encouragement, because on a second after that Lio can feel the gentle press of lips against his own. It’s… tame. Innocent. Galo doesn’t seem to push more than that, and it’s even cute.
This, Lio thinks, can happen more often. Galo backs off after a few seconds, probably about to ask if he proved a point. Lio doesn’t give him the chance. Before Galo can even open his mouth to ask, Lio is pulling him forward with every intention of keeping this going. He doesn’t keep it as gentle this time. Clearly , Galo is more than a little shy, so Lio is going to break him out of his shell.
It’s just something else that draws Lio to him, though. Galo is so confident everywhere else, but intimacy is the one thing making him clam up. Lio’s hand slides from the back of Galo’s neck, going to cup his cheek and bring him in closer. That way they’re pressed together, and Lio can thoroughly enjoy how warm Galo feels against him.
It appears as thought that gives Galo more confidence. One of his hands slide up Lio’s hip, feeling underneath his jacket and pausing. It takes everything Lio has to not make a frustrated noise when Galo pulls away from kissing him again, looking at Lio curiously.
“You’re like, freezing,” Galo points out, giving Lio’s waist a little squeeze. “Is that normal?”
“Seriously?” Lio asks, annoyance melting through into his words. “You’re picking right now to ask me that? You haven’t noticed?”
Lio is trying to navigate uncharted waters with Galo right now. But he keeps anchoring them right back down, asking Lio about how he’s suddenly cold all the time. As though he hasn’t been wearing a jacket constantly, and Galo has held his hand.
“I just thought it was your hands,” Galo admits, pressing Lio down further into the couch. “Not your entire body.”
Lio could be a lot more annoyed right now. He’ll try to restrain himself, instead. “You can always find out what the rest of me feels like,” he purrs. “Maybe try to warm me up.”
That makes Galo pause, considering Lio’s words from the looks of it. And then the asshole has the audacity to start laughing , sliding his hand up further on Lio’s waist. “Oh, you’d like that?” Galo asks. “You wanna rush into things?”
“No,” Lio lies. “We’re hardly rushing.”
“This is the second time we’ve kissed. That’s kind of rushing,” Galo points out.
That’s a fair point. Lio considers those words, and then sighs , running his thumb over Galo’s cheekbone. Although anyone with more than a single brain cell (so, Meis and Guiera) can see they have something, this is still… a different and new situation. Lio’s lips press into a thin line, considering Galo’s words.
“Let me offer you this,” Galo says, reaching to hold Lio’s chin and tilt it up. “We can do this more. But I actually get a few more dollars to my name, and we go out to dinner.”
Lio considers those words. He wanted Galo to do that earlier, and then decided another time, because-- Lio wants Galo. It’s fine for him to admit that now, because the genuine affection oozing from those actions like holding his chin and asking if it’s normal to be so cold is… what Lio might need right now. He might just need Galo.
That’s okay. After bearing the weight of thousands of individuals, Lio can let himself lean on someone right now.
“Fine,” Lio says after a moment. “But get down here and kiss me again.”