*does your first
name start with p?*
A/N:
Hi everyone 👋
It's hard to write when you have a fever 😷 I can't even lift my arms! and my head is heavy 😣 but its finally finish hay jusko thank you Lord 🙏
Enjoy 😘
Vote and comment 😷🇵🇭
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----}WARNING!{----
There's a sex scene if your 16 below don't read this! It's for adults only😏
The afternoon drags.
Galliard tries his best to focus on his clients-this is important, dammit, this is his career, his good job, the one that matters-but as they're lifting weights and sweating through reps, he finds his mind wandering. As he's voicing encouragement and guiding flabby, middle-aged lawyers through getting themselves back in shape, he starts thinking about Reiner. Reiner, and the way he kisses. Reiner, and how as soon as Galliard decided it was okay, Reiner couldn't keep his hands off him. Reiner, and how he's still the thirstiest little bitch Galliard has ever known, but he's also nice, way nicer than Galliard deserves, and he says it's because he understands, that he's been where Galliard is now, and while Galliard is almost certain that's bullshit, it's pretty bullshit, and maybe he needs to believe in some bullshit for awhile.
He knows that if Reiner knew about him, really knew about him, he'd turn away in disgust. If Reiner knew everything, he'd look at Galliard like he was a pile of Sarge's shit wiped across the bottom of one of Reiner's expensive shoes, and that would be the end of it.
But it's nice to pretend, at least for a little while, that there's any future to this, that Galliard is something besides a cute young plaything who shows up at Reiner's apartment and fucks around with him, and as long as Reiner wants to play the game, Galliard will play it with him.
It doesn't matter, in the end. In the end, Reiner is just going to leave. Like everyone else, Reiner is going to leave.
Between appointments, Galliard has about twenty minutes, and he takes some paperwork to one of the offices to put it into the computer. While he's there, his phone pings and vibrates in his pocket.
Pulling it out, he sees that someone texted him a photo. Galliard doesn't recognize the number right away, but when he unlocks his phone, he sees it's from Thirsty Bitch Braun.
At some point, he should change that name in his phone.
The picture is of Sarge, standing in the middle of a flower bed, tulips trampled under his feet, panting and his mouth spread in a wide, delighted doggy grin. There's a tennis ball at his feet.
(So I can't find the right picture but close enough 😫😝)
Galliard is glad that he's in the office by himself, because a genuine, delighted laugh bubbles up out of his chest and escapes before he can tamp it down. He gets control over himself quickly, but it's hard not to be charmed by that picture. Even as he's looking at it, Reiner sends a message.
Thirsty Bitch Braun: agent of destruction
Galliard glances at the clock on the wall and at his pile of paperwork, considers both, and then takes his phone in both hands and responds.
P. Galliard: how'd that happen?
Thirsty Bitch Braun: some kids were throwing the ball around and it got away from them
Thirsty Bitch Braun: rolled right past us and into the flowers
Thirsty Bitch Braun: Sarge WANTED that ball
Thirsty Bitch Braun: and here we are
Galliard shakes his head, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.
P. Galliard: bad dog
Thirsty Bitch Braun: on the plus side, the kids said we could keep the ball
That's all right, then; most people don't want a ball back after it's had smelly old dog drool on it.
P. Galliard: what about you
P. Galliard: you still wearing your equipment?
Reiner's response is instantaneous.
Thirsty Bitch Braun: YES
Thirsty Bitch Braun: how do you think Sarge got into those flowers?
Thirsty Bitch Braun: hard to move fast when you've got a doorknob in your ass
Galliard snorts muffled laughter.
P. Galliard: it's not a doorknob
P. Galliard: do you want to wear the doorknob?
Thirsty Bitch Braun: no thanks
Thirsty Bitch Braun: this one is making my day VERY interesting already
Thirsty Bitch Braun: how much longer are you going to be at the gym?
Damn him. Damn Reiner Braun and his earnest, cute good guy act, and damn Galliard for falling for it, hook, line, and sinker.
P. Galliard: one more appointment
P. Galliard: so about two more hours
Thirsty Bitch Braun: :(
P. Galliard: do that again, and I'll take even longer to get back
Reiner doesn't respond for a few minutes, long enough that Galliard actually returns to his paperwork, putting some data in the computer and humming quietly to himself. He's almost ready to go back out when his phone vibrates again, with another text. He glances at it, and his stomach drops all the way to the floor.
Thirsty Bitch Braun: does your first name start with p?
Galliard frantically looks back at his early messages, before groaning and slapping a hand across his face. Goddammit, he forgot that Michelle had insisted on everyone listing both their names on the number their clients would use. Galliard had fought against it, and been granted the rare exception of only using his first initial-Michelle hates his first name almost as much as he does, calling it "low class" and "not really the brandwe're going for at this establishment, Gali dear"-but she'd refused to let him get away with not using one at all. But then Galliard hadn't had any clients for a long time, and Pieck and his other bosses are about the only other people who call or text him, and the initial had completely slipped his mind.
Until now. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
P. Galliard: why?
Thirsty Bitch Braun: just curious, that's all
Fuck. Now Reiner is pulling that non-threatening, sweet innocence thing, and Galliard has to force himself to not run both hands through his hair and mess it up. Shouldhe tell Reiner his name? God, no, Reiner doesn't need to know about that monstrosity, let alone call Galliard by it, but it's also right fucking there on the phone, big and bold as day: the letter P.
"For fuck's sake." Galliard mutters it out loud, under his breath, before snatching up the phone and tapping out a response.
P. Galliard: yes
P. Galliard: but don't ask me what it stands for
Thirsty Bitch Braun: can I guess? :D
This guy. This fucking guy. Galliard wonders how he does it, how Reiner manages to crash through all his carefully constructed barriers, all the walls Galliard deliberately builds around himself. The walls keep him safe; they keep everyone out, but they also protect the world from the colossal fucking wreck that is the loser Galliard brother. And then there's Reiner, blithely barging right on in, completely unaware of the enormous shitstorm he's about to subject himself to, and Galliard knows he should stop him, that he should push Reiner away for Reiner's own good, but god, if it doesn't feel great to have someone give a shit about him again.
P. Galliard: sure, go ahead
Thirsty Bitch Braun: I'll see you later, Patrick
P. Galliard: it's not Patrick
Thirsty Bitch Braun: damn
~*~
Galliard's final session ends and he takes a quick shower at the gym, rinsing off and getting himself in order. He knows he could go right back to Reiner's place, hot and stinking from the gym, and Reiner probably wouldn't care-by now, if he's had the plug in the whole time, he's likely shaking and desperate for relief-but Galliard can't stand the thought of smelling bad. Even smelling like the cheap gym soap and not the fancy, expensive shit Reiner stocks in his shower is better than smelling like body odor and stale, dirty clothes.
Once he's clean, Galliard gathers his things, carefully rearranging everything in his bag so it's easy to reach, and then slips out the gym's back door. He's in a hurry and can't be bothered to play nice with all the other trainers and employees on his way out. If Franz saw him he'd probably try to engage in conversation, and Galliard simply doesn't have time for that. Reiner isn't the only one who has an itch to scratch today.
The subway is crowded, and when an elderly lady toddles on board, Galliard gives up his seat. She smiles at him and slips a Werther's Original into his hand, and as Galliard stows it in his pocket, he quietly marvels at how old ladies all seem to love him. It has something to do with the red hair, he figures; it must make him look like a lovable little scamp in their eyes.
What they don't know won't hurt them.
Galliard's phone vibrates in his pocket, and he fishes it out, holding onto an overhead bar and swaying with the motion of the car.
Thirsty Bitch Braun: are you on your way back?
Galliard grins; sounds like someone left his plug in.
P. Galliard: maybe
P. Galliard: why?
Reiner doesn't respond immediately, and Galliard is about to put his phone away when it vibrates again, and a picture fills his screen. One glance at it and Galliard can feel his cheeks flushing and his pupils blowing wide.
Reiner is lying on his bed, on his back. He held the phone over his head to take the selfie and has his head tossed back, so Galliard can only see his face and not much of his body. What he can see, though, is that Reiner has his knees up and his legs are clearly bare, and he's biting his lower lip, his face taut with tension.
Thirsty Bitch Braun: miss you
"Is that your girlfriend you're talking to?"
Galliard looks up, startled, and the old lady is smiling up at him.
"Uh..."
"You just looked so happy when you got the message." She opens her bag and pulls out another hard candy, which Galliard takes with numb fingers.
"I don't... I don't have a girlfriend."
"Would you like one? I have a lovely granddaughter."
Galliard stares at her for a beat, his eyes wide, and then looks away. "No, thank you. I'm not in the market for one."
The old lady studies him, her head canting to one side, a greying lock of her hair falling to one shoulder. "Would you prefer a boyfriend? I have a grandson too, but..." She looks from side to side before leaning in and dropping her voice, as though they weren't already in a crowded subway car. "He's not as good as his sister. You'd be better off with her."
Galliard can't help it; he lowers his head-directly into Reiner's scarf, and that heady scent of his cologne-and snorts laughter. "That's a really nice offer, ma'am, but I think I'm okay."
She smiles at him, apparently charmed by his reaction, and slips him another candy. "All right. You have fun with whoever you're talking to, then."
Galliard waits until she gets up at the next stop and gets off the car before pulling his phone out and sending Reiner a message.
P. Galliard: on the subway
P. Galliard: be there soon
Reiner's response is instantaneous; he must have been waiting with his phone in his hand.
Thirsty Bitch Braun: can't wait
Thirsty Bitch Braun: Perry?
P. Galliard: not Perry
Thirsty Bitch Braun: getting closer?
~*~
Galliard keeps some hurry in his steps as he climbs the stairs to Reiner's apartment building, even if the motion makes him ache, deep in his guts. Last night had been a cam night, and since titan23 has disappeared, there's no one to compete with iamayam and his weird requests. Galliard hates it, hates that he can't say no and still pay his rent, hates that he has to smile while he's hurting himself, hates that he misses titan23 and his quiet presence in the cam chat and the way he'd driven up iamayam's bids, meaning Galliard ha had spent a few glorious weeks of not having to cam so often. But even with the money he's bringing in from the gym, camming is still how the big bills get paid, and that means a sore ass more often than he'd like, and shying away from Reiner's touch when his hands drift too close.
Galliard is so lost in thought that he doesn't realize he's standing next to the beautiful blonde woman again, and that she's watching him from under her long, perfectly curled eyelashes until they get on the elevator together.
"Number fourteen, please," she tells him, shaking Galliard out of his thoughts, and he hits the number for her before hitting the number for Reiner's floor.
They rise three floors before she speaks again. "Hello. My name is Historia. Are you new in the building?"
She offers him her hand, and Galliard stares at it stupidly for a moment-is he supposed to kiss it? is that what rich people do?-before he reaches out and shakes it. "Galliard. And no, I'm just visiting."
"I see." She smiles, and Galliard is temporarily dazzled. "Well, I hope you're enjoying yourself here."
Galliard shrugs, ill at ease. "I guess."
What's he supposed to say to that? Yes, I like your apartment building that's a million times nicer than anything I'll ever be able to afford? Yes, I like coming here and pounding one of the residents in the ass, which I'm about to go upstairs and do right now? Yes, I like coming here and pretending I'm actually the kind of person who might be able to live here someday?
Fortunately, the elevator reaches the fourteenth floor and stops, and Historia steps out. "Have a lovely day, Galliard!" She waves at him as the elevator doors close, and Galliard lifts one hand in a half-hearted wave before they're cut off from each other.
Reiner's neighbors are weird. Beautiful people are weird.
The elevator doors slide silently open at Reiner's floor, and Galliard steps out. It's strange, but he feels more comfortable on this floor than anywhere else in the building. Something about coming onto Reiner's floor settles whatever nerves might be stirring in his gut, whatever anxieties he might be entertaining. This floor feels safe in a way that not a lot of places have felt over the last several years, and that realization is not one Galliard chooses to dwell on. He hurries down the hall and lets himself into Reiner's apartment.
Sarge is sprawled on his bed in the living room, and he wags his tail when he sees Galliard. He has a soggy tennis ball in the bed with him, and looks sleepy but pleased with himself.
"Hey, good boy." Galliard toes off his boots and walks over to the dog, crouching next to him and patting Sarge's head. "Did you take good care of Reiner?"
Sarge's wagging tail and tongue licking Galliard's fingers confirms that yes, he did take good care of Reiner. The soft groan coming from the bedroom also confirms that Reiner knows Galliard is back, and because only Sarge is here to witness it, Galliard grins. He bends low of the dog's head, and whispers in Sarge's ear, the same way he used to tell Sarge secrets when he was a child. "I like it here, Sarge, and I love you. You're my very good boy."
Sarge wags his tail and huffs air out his nose; yes, he knows. He knows he's Galliard's very good boy, even if he wasn't always.
Confident that the dog is content and happy where he is, Galliard stands up and rolls his neck from side to side, listening to it crackles satisfyingly. "You ready for me in there, big guy?"
"God, yes." No hesitation, no doubt in Reiner's voice, only naked need, and Galliard grins again as he quickly strips down. He folds his clothes and leaves them on the couch, but takes his bag with him as he strolls into Reiner's bedroom.
Galliard has to pause in the doorway to admire the sight that greets him. Reiner is sprawled across the bed, completely naked, lying on his back with his arms out in a T position, his legs splayed wide and the soles of his feet pointing towards Galliard. He lifts his head when he hears Galliard at the door, and the way his expression brightens when he sees him makes something slow and lazy turn over in Galliard's stomach. It's been a long, long time since someone looked so happy to see him.
It doesn't hurt that Reiner is exceptionally nice to look at, either. Galliard thought he was attractive the first time he saw him, back at the club-he has that rugged, good-natured boy next door kind of charm, brusquely handsome and endearing if perhaps not the sharpest tool in the shed. Those broad shoulders and crooked nose gave the impression of taking a few too many hits on the football field, an impression compounded by how Reiner had seemed so off and distant at the club. He'd acted like he was half-asleep, and Galliard had assumed he was drunk, just another stupid drunk straight boy getting a lap dance as a laugh.
But now Galliard knows better. He's seen how Reiner has woken up, how every time they're together Reiner seems sharper and more awake, like a sun gradually gaining strength after a long winter, every day brighter and warmer, shining so brilliant and golden that sometimes Galliard feels like he needs to shield his eyes. It's happening now, with the look on Reiner's face, and the way he's lifting his arms and holding them out, like he expects Galliard to leap into them, and damn if a part of a Galliard doesn't want to, if a part of him isn't screaming yes and wanting to plunge into Reiner's bed with him and never leave.
He holds back, though, and simply smiles, a slow, indolent Jaws smirk, and tosses his bag onto the bed, where it lands near Reiner's hip. "You still wearing your plug, Thirsty?"
Reiner nods, his arms still held up expectantly. "I took it out to clean up about an hour ago, but it's been in the rest of the time."
"Smart guy." Galliard comes into the room and climbs up on the bed, swinging one leg over Reiner's torso and crouching over his abdomen. Reiner's hand immediately fall on Galliard's hips, but that's okay. As long as they stay there, that's just fine. "Why'd you get yourself cleaned up, though?"
Reiner's thin brows rise in surprise at the question, just as Galliard had hoped they would, and he bites his lower lip. "Uh..."
"Were you hoping for something?" Galliard leans forward, sinking low over Reiner's chest, sliding his hands up the length of Reiner's torso until he can run his thumbs over Reiner's nipples, and enjoy the hitch of Reiner's breath when he does. "Did you want me to do something to you, big man?"
"Aaaaah..." It's unfair, really, how easy it is to have Reiner squirming now that Galliard knows the secret about his nipples, but Galliard is still going to take full advantage of the fact. A simple brush with his thumbs and Reiner is already chewing on his lower lip, his hands tightening on Galliard's hips, his nipples hardening under Galliard's touch and rising into little peaks. All the better to grab and lightly twist, which has Reiner helplessly lifting his hips into the air, trying to rut against something which isn't there.
"Hmmm? What was that?" Galliard leans all the way forward, keeping himself propped up on Reiner's chest, hovering just above Reiner's mouth. "What?"
Reiner makes a grunting sound, and one of his hands leaves Galliard's hip to slip onto his back, running up the length of Galliard's spine and leaving goosebumps in its wake. Dammit, it isn't supposed to work this way, Galliard is supposed to be the one in charge, he shouldn't be getting all weak-kneed and trembly from Reiner touching him, he shouldn't feel his pulse pick up when Reiner looks him directly in the eye and his pupils blown out wide and dark, his golden-brown irises shrinking to a pencil-thin line around all the black. Galliard shouldn't want to drop down and lose himself in a kiss as badly as he does.
"Want you to fuck me." It's said between pants, but Reiner manages to articulate exactly when he wants. His hand is all the way up between Galliard's shoulder blades by the time he manages it, and Galliard nods, about to sit up and make it happen, when Reiner's hand glides over the back of his neck and into his hair, and Galliard trembles in both surprise and a sudden, hot rush of desire, and that's enough of a pause for Reiner to speak up again.
"Want you." Reiner lifts his head then, sealing his mouth against Galliard's, and Galliard is too shocked to resist. Him? Reiner wants him? Not his cock, not his body, not his subservience, but him? The whole package? All Galliard's idiocy and mistakes and fuck ups, and Reiner still wants him?
No. No, Reiner doesn't know what he wants, and even as Galliard kisses him back and Reiner tangles his hand in Galliard's hair, Galliard pushes away the intrusive thoughts rising in the back of his mind, thoughts like boyfriend and companion and even, shy and flickering and almost immediately squelched, love. Reiner's just been wearing a plug for most of the day and is ready for the edging to stop. He'd say anything to get the frustration to ease off a little.
He'd say anything at all.
Galliard sits back up, and Reiner's hand drops out of his hair and back onto his hip. Reiner looks up at Galliard expectantly, his lips flushed and pink from their kiss, and Galliard claps his hands down on Reiner's chest.
"All right, then. I can help you with that." He gives Reiner's nipples another quick flick, takes a split second to enjoy Reiner's gasp and how he thrusts his chest up and into Galliard's touch, and then slips off his lap, settling himself between Reiner's legs. Reiner spreads them wide, making room for Galliard, and Galliard picks one of Reiner's legs up and braces it over his shoulder. Reiner lets him, although his hip creaks a little with the motion, and Galliard makes a note to himself to teach Reiner some stretches for his hips during their next session.
With Reiner's leg up and out of the way, Galliard can see between them better, and he ignores the massive, erect log Reiner has laying across his abdomen to reach down and joggle the bright, metallic ring at the end of the plug. Reiner whines at the motion, and Galliard feels the corner of his mouth tug upwards.
"Why are you laying on your back?" He touches the plug again, pressing down on it to make it shift upwards, and Reiner whines again.
"Only way... to keep it from driving me crazy."
"Oh, poor guy." Galliard eases up a little, letting the plug fall away from where he knows it's pressing directly on Reiner's prostate, then pushes down again, sending the plug thrusting directly upwards, and Reiner groans and arches his back, his leg pressing hard against Galliard's shoulder. "That walk earlier must have been murder."
He keeps the pressure on the plug for another moment before letting it go, and Reiner collapses back onto the bed. "It was." Reiner stares up at the ceiling, panting and trying to get his breath back. "I had to keep stopping and sitting on park benches."
"I bet you were walking slower than Sarge."
"Yeah. How do you think he got that ball?"
The idea of his ancient, decrepit dog almost getting away from buff, hale and hearty Reiner is enough to make Galliard grin, for real this time, and he ducks his head down so Reiner can't see it.
Galliard takes hold of the end of the plug, threading his finger through its loop, and starts pulling it out a millimeter at a time. He watches as it starts to slide free, as Reiner's body stretches around it, his skin pulling taut as the bulbous head of the plug presses against him, and Galliard knows he hasn't seen anything this hot in a long, long time. His cock is very much at attention, erect and throbbing against his abdomen, and when Galliard glances up, he notices that Reiner has lifted his head and is watching him, his eyes bright and wanting. Their eyes meet for just a moment, and Galliard swears he hears electricity crackle through the air... until he pushes the plug completely back in with one smooth motion and Reiner flops back down on the mattress with a moan.
Galliard teases him a few moments more, slowly fucking Reiner wide with the plug, never pulling it all the way out, until he can't take much more taunting himself. Heat and tension are curled low in his belly, and as fun as it is to reduce Reiner to a whimpering ball of jelly, if this goes on much longer Galliard is going to tip himself over the edge.
He pulls the plug out and tosses it aside, onto a pile of t-shirts Reiner has thoughtfully left on the bed, before reaching into his bag. Galliard finds the lube he packed-silicone based, a lot better than the cheap water-based stuff Reiner has, he'd have thought a guy with an apartment this nice would know to buy the good lube but no-and a strip of three condoms. He holds the end of the condom strip in his teeth as he makes a show of drizzling lube onto his hand, since he knows Reiner is watching, then reaches down and strokes his fingers along Reiner's hole. The lube smears across him, and Galliard can feel how Reiner is relaxed and ready, the muscles of his ass flexing and trying to draw his fingers in. Galliard pulls his hand away before that can happen, and gets his cock good and lubed up.
Reiner lifts his head to watch again, and Galliard's hand slows on himself-for all his time putting on shows for other people, for all that he puts himself out there and uses his body to pay his bills, the simple fact right now is that he wants Reiner to watch him, wants Reiner to be aroused by the sight of him, and it's a new, heady feeling. He watches Reiner watch him, and when Reiner glances up to meet Galliard's eyes, that electricity crackles between them again.
Reiner bites his lower lip and opens his mouth, like he's about to say something, but then reaches one hand out instead. "I can get those open."
Galliard has a moment of vague disappointment, like Reiner had intended to ask something else but then changed his mind at the last moment, but he tosses him the condoms. Reiner grabs them out of the air with an easy, supple grace, rips the wrapper off one, and offers them back. Galliard takes them and slips one free, rolling it onto himself and then lubing up.
And then there's no more prep left to do, and Galliard shuffles forward, lining himself up. Reiner lifts his hips as best he can, pressing his leg against Galliard's shoulder, and Galliard wraps his arm around Reiner's leg to steady it. It's like holding on to a tree trunk, and while Galliard knows he isn't exactly a small guy, he feels positively petite when he's this close to Reiner.
"You ready?" Galliard has his cock gripped around the base and lined up to Reiner's ass, but he pauses, lifting his eyes and meeting Reiner's one last time.
Reiner nods, his eyes round and pupils blown wide again. "Please, god, yes..."
Galliard looks away and chuckles quietly. "Just Galliard is fine." And after that, there's nothing more to say, and he pushes forward into Reiner.
They both gasp in unison as Galliard slides in, Reiner's body giving way easily and cleanly, and Galliard has to hold onto Reiner's leg to keep from trembling so hard he slips right back out. Reiner is hot and tight around him, a smooth sheath for Galliard to fall into, and he probably thrusts in too fast and too hard but he can't help himself. Reiner doesn't seem to mind; he groans as Galliard drives home, and his hands scrabble downwards to grip at Galliard's knees, grasping down on the muscles just above Galliard's kneecaps.
Galliard pushes in until he's fully sheathed, sunk right to the base in Reiner's heat, and then he has to pause for a moment and gather himself; if he kept going, he's afraid-he knows-he would blow his load too soon. Even through the condom, he can feel Reiner pulsing all around him, his heartbeat throbbing through his entire body and directly against Galliard's cock, and Galliard has to distract himself or this is going to be over too soon. He turns his head towards Reiner's leg and kisses his calf, running his tongue across his skin, tasting the tang of Reiner's sweat and feeling Reiner's leg hair scrape along his tongue. The muscles of Reiner's leg twitch, pressing against Galliard's chest and shoulder, and Galliard wraps his arm around it, holding it tight to his chest.
"Okay." Galliard isn't sure who he's talking to, if he's talking to Reiner or himself, and he mutters the words against the skin of Reiner's calf. "Okay. Okay."
He feels something stroke his knee, a gentle caress, and when Galliard looks down, he sees that Reiner is touching his knee, his broad, thick-fingered hand tremendously gentle, and when he glances up to meet Reiner's eyes, he's smiling in such a sweet, kind way that it makes Galliard's heart break a little. Isn't hesupposed to be the one in control right now? How did Reiner manage to take over?
"Okay," Reiner tells him before laying flat again, his hand slipping off Galliard's knee to grip the sheets. "Okay, I'm ready."
"Okay." Galliard swallows and nods, gripping Reiner's leg closer against him, and shifts his weight, getting himself in position. Reiner moves his hips from side to side, sighing as Galliard sinks a millimeter deeper, and starts to lift one hand towards his cock.
"No." Galliard swats it away with his free hand, and Reiner immediately drops it along his side, grabbing onto the sheets with both hands. He looks at Galliard expectantly, and Galliard feels the power shift again, back towards him, and he sits up a little straighter. "No touching for you. You're going to come just from my cock."
Reiner shivers deliciously, his muscles clamping along Galliard's length, and Galliard has to swallow a moan. "All right."
"So no touching."
"No touching."
"Okay." Galliard takes a deep breath, steadying himself, and starts rolling his hips, pulling out and thrusting deep. Reiner rocks minutely back and forth with every thrust, his head rocking back and the line of his throat exposed. When he's got his eyes closed like this, Galliard lets himself look Reiner up and down, admiring the lines of his body, his muscles and his form, the planes of his face and the way his body hair manages to be almost invisible and catch the light at the same time. Reiner is easily the most handsome man he's ever been with, and the kindest, the one who treats Galliard the most like he's a real person, and as much as he's waiting for the other shoe to drop, Galliard doesn't want it to. He wants to keep pretending, for as long as Reiner will let him, that this is something that could actually happen, that he's even remotely good enough for someone like Reiner to take seriously.
Galliard pushes the shadows away, forcing them back where they belong, and concentrates on what he's doing. Wearing the plug all day and waiting has Reiner on edge, and he's already jerking and trembling, his breath hitching in his lungs and his cock weeping pre-cum all over his abdomen. He keeps his hands down, though, just like Galliard told him to, and Galliard tries to redirect the aim of his cock, tries to thrust directly into Reiner's prostate.
Judging by how Reiner's back arches and almost tosses him off the bed, Galliard finds it on the third try. Gripping Reiner's leg like a lifeline, Galliard pounds into it, pushing in as hard and deep as he can, the head of his cock hammering up against the spongy mass buried deep in Reiner. Every thrust is punctuated by little gasps and yelps from Reiner, and when Galliard judges him to be on the very edge, he thrusts in and holds it, using Reiner's leg as leverage and pushing it as hard as he can.
It might not be a very delicate strategy, but it's an effective one; Reiner nearly launches off the bed, his entire body curling in on itself before he crashes back onto the mattress, crying out with a sound that's almost musical as he sprays all across himself. The muscles of his ass clamp down, spasming all around Galliard, and he only manages another two or three sloppy, uncoordinated thrusts before he's coming himself, shuddering and leaning so hard against Reiner's leg that he hears Reiner's hip creak warningly. The world grays out for a second, everything subsumed in the sensation, and Galliard turns his head to feel Reiner's skin against his cheek and breathe in Reiner's scent.
A few heartbeats, and the world comes swimming back. Galliard fumbles down between his legs and grasps the base of the condom before pulling out. It's another alarmingly full one, almost overflowing, and he ties it off before any can spill out and tosses it into Reiner's trashcan by the bed. Then he carefully lowers Reiner's leg off his shoulder and lays it flat before finding one of the soft t-shirts from the pile. Galliard wipes himself down, then cleans up the mess Reiner made of himself. He managed to spray almost up to his collarbones, and Galliard finds himself leaning over him to reach all of it.
He's wiping up a stray droplet when Reiner touches his wrist, and Galliard makes the mistake of looking up. Reiner is watching him, and as soon as he catches Galliard's eyes, he lifts his arms, wrapping them around Galliard and coaxing him downward, and Galliard wants to resist, wants to stay aloof and above it all, but he can't. He can't, it's just too tempting, and he lets Reiner pull him down into a slow, sweet kiss. Reiner's hand skates up Galliard's arm, over his shoulder, and into his hair again, and Galliard can't even protest; he knows his hair is a mess anyway, and there's something protective and proprietary about Reiner's hand there that he likes.
After a few moments of kissing, Galliard breaks it off and lowers himself down onto Reiner's shoulder, his cheek resting on Reiner's chest, and Reiner tucks his arm close around him, his hand still in Galliard's hair. Galliard lays on his chest, and listens to the sound of Reiner's heartbeat, slowing down as he comes down from his orgasm, and for just a moment, everything feels safe and secure, and Galliard has to swallow down the treacherous choking feeling that rises in his throat.
Reiner keeps playing with Galliard's hair, stroking it flat and smooth again, and there's something immensely comforting about the gesture. Galliard closes his eyes, listens to Reiner's heartbeat, and just relaxes. It's so rare that he actually gets to do this, gets to relax and let his guard down, and he melts against Reiner, his eyes drifting closed.
Galliard wakes up to Reiner gently tapping his shoulder. He lifts his head and wipes at his mouth, realizing too late that he'd been asleep and drooling, and that Reiner's chest has a little puddle of drool on it. "Huh?"
"Do you have to work tonight?" Reiner doesn't seem to mind the slobber, simply wiping it away with a sheet, and Galliard groans as he collapses back onto Reiner's chest.
"Yeah. What time is it?"
"Around six."
Galliard groans again and forces himself up all the way, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and burying his hands in his hair, trying to force himself awake. He has a shift at the club tonight, and then camming, and then Starbucks tomorrow and another appointment at the gym, and somewhere in there he needs to find time to study and do his Economics homework, and buy food for next week, and...
And Reiner is touching the small of his back as he sits up, moving around to sit next to him on the bed, rubbing little, soothing circles on Galliard's back. "You can come back here after work is over. If you want to."
Galliard shakes his head; he does want to, he wants to badly, but he can't. He can't let Reiner know he cams, that he's basically one step above a common street prostitute, that the only difference between him and someone who fucks for money is that there's the layer of separation provided by the computer screen. If Reiner knew about that, he'd never want to see Galliard again. "It'll be too late. I'll wake you up."
"Okay." Reiner kisses his shoulder, and the skin under his lips feels like it's burning, like Galliard has been marked by him. "I sleep pretty deep, you know."
"I know." But he can't. As much as he wants to, Galliard knows he can't. He lifts his head and looks at Reiner, at his concerned, gentle face, and for a moment, Galliard wants to throw it all away. Everything he's worked for, everything he's fought and slaved for, everything he's wept and sweated and even bled for... he could give it all up. He could throw it all away, and move himself and Sarge into Reiner's apartment and just never leave. He could let Reiner take care of everything, and be a kept man.
And then he really would be the prostitute he's so terrified of becoming, and Galliard leans in to brush his lips across Reiner's before he stands up.
Time to go to work. Time to make his own way.