*Gentle touch/Sleepover*
(Found this one on FB it's so cute⬆️)
Enjoy 😘
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Once Bertolt is safely disconnected and can’t tell that story, Reiner lets out all his breath in a huff and rolls over onto his back, linking his hands behind his head. He still has Galliard squashed against the back of the couch, but he’s not worried; Galliard is tough and the couch is comfortable, and Reiner really only has his legs pinned. He knows Galliard’s legs are strong enough to toss him off if he really wants to. “That went well, Preston.”
Galliard wrinkles his nose, and drums his fingers along Reiner’s chest, playing Reiner’s ribs like a xylophone, apparently in no hurry to throw him off. “That sounds like a gross middle-aged guy who goes to Thailand twice a year to bang prostitutes.”
“Sooooo… not your name?”
“God, no.” Galliard shakes his head and lifts one hand to tweak Reiner’s nose, making him blink. “You’re really bad at this.”
“But I keep trying, and that’s the important thing.” Galliard rolls his eyes, and Reiner just smiles, shifting his shoulders back and forth to get more comfortable on his lap. Galliard moves his hand from Reiner’s nose to his hair, brushing it back and then playing with it, making it stand up. Reiner does his best to not start purring like a contented cat while also quietly hoping Galliard scratches along his belly.
Galliard doesn’t scratch his belly; what he does instead is gently pull and twist Reiner’s hair, drawing it up into little tufts. When he’s done with the hair on Reiner’s head, he moves to his beard, pushing against the hair with his fingertips and trying to get it to stand up. Reiner closes his eyes and lets him, simply enjoying the sensation of Galliard’s hand on his face. He hadn’t realized how starved for affection he’d truly gotten until Galliard had, reluctantly at first but then with increasing frequency and eagerness, started touching him. It isn’t even the sexual touching that Reiner loves the most, although he certainly has no complaints in that department. It’s the simple things like this: feeling Galliard’s firm thighs under his back; Galliard’s fingers stroking along his jawline; Galliard’s other hand resting on his abdomen, splayed out and warm, occasionally drumming along his ribs; the push of Galliard’s belly when he breathes in, pressing against Reiner’s side.
“You told him about me.”
“Hmmm?” Reiner opens one eye; Galliard’s hand has stopped moving on his face, settling down near his collarbone. Galliard is looking down at him, wearing his pensive, thoughtful expression, the one that makes a line form between his eyebrows.
“Bertolt. You told him about me.”
“Of course I did.” Reiner opens his other eye and gives Galliard his full attention. “I told you about him, too.”
Galliard nods, still deep in thought. “You’ve known him for a long time.”
“Almost twenty years now.” Reiner slides his arm out from behind his head and drapes it along the couch’s cushions, letting it rest on Galliard’s arm so he can reach the back of his head and play with the short, bristly hairs there. Once he realizes what Reiner is going for, Galliard even lowers his head a little so Reiner can reach him more easily. “Bertolt is my family at this point.”
“Like brothers.” For a moment, something flashes across Galliard’s face, an expression so complex and layered that Reiner almost can’t parse it, but he’d have to be blind not to see the deep hurt there. He shifts his hand from the back of Galliard’s neck to the side of his face, and after a second’s hesitation, Galliard leans into it, his cheek soft against Reiner’s palm.
“I have my Economics final tomorrow.”
Reiner blinks at the sudden change in subject. “Do you want help studying for it tonight?”
That would explain why Galliard is here on a Monday night, after all. He’s never showed up on a Monday before; Reiner usually sees him on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, with the occasional Sunday thrown into the mix.
Galliard shakes his head, and Reiner drops his hand back to the nape of his neck. “If I don’t understand this shit now, I won’t by tomorrow morning.” He pauses, and glances across the room at Sarge, pointedly not meeting Reiner’s eyes. “I was, uh… I don’t have to work tomorrow. I took the morning off.”
“That’s a good idea. You don’t want to be stressed before your final.”
“Right.” Galliard is quiet for a moment, looking at Reiner expectantly, but Reiner has no idea what he’s angling for. Finally, just as it’s starting to get awkward, Galliard sighs. “I’m going to spend the night here.”
“You are?” Reiner can’t believe his ears, and he gapes up at Galliard, expecting him at any moment to say he’s joking and probably tweak his nose again. Galliard just keeps looking at him, his jaw set and expression serious, and Reiner can feel a slow, disbelieving grin start to spread across his face. “You’re really going to stay?”
Galliard tilts his head to the side, studying Reiner in the way he does when he’s still deciding if he wants to believe what he’s hearing or not, then rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He’s smiling as he does, though, and taps his fingers along Reiner’s sternum. “Yeah. And you look like you’re going to start humping my leg right now.”
“But you’re staying!” Galliard has never done that before. He comes over regularly, eats Reiner’s food, naps in Reiner’s bed, and they have sex every time he’s over, but Galliard has never spent the night. It’s always been one thing or another: class, work the next day, shifts at the club, appointments at the gym. For Galliard to spend the night, he must have done some fine-tuning to his schedule, and Reiner recognizes how challenging that can be for him. He’s operated on a very narrow budget himself, and knows how missing a day or even a shift can upset the balance and throw everything into jeopardy.
Galliard’s finances must be improving, and Reiner pushes away the thought that maybe he’s making enough at the gym so that he doesn’t have to cam anymore. He doesn’t even know if Galliard likes camming or not. They’ve never talked about it, and Galliard doesn’t know Reiner used to watch his streams.
Reiner realizes he’s grinning stupidly up at Galliard, and abruptly swings his legs around, sitting up. He turns around in one smooth motion and climbs onto Galliard’s lap, straddling his thighs. Galliard makes an amused snorting sound and settles his hands on Reiner’s hips, helping him keep steady as Reiner loops his arms around his neck.
“You really are going to hump my leg, aren’t you?”
“I’m excited!” As though that weren’t completely obvious. Reiner knows he’s being about as subtle as Sarge is when he sees his tennis ball, and that if he had a tail, it’d be wagging so hard it would make his entire lower half shake, but he can’t help it. The idea of falling asleep next to Galliard, and waking up next to him, like a normal couple—like a couple, like boyfriends—fills him with simple, unadulterated joy, and he swoops in for a kiss.
Galliard snorts when Reiner dives down on him, but he’s happy enough to kiss him back, and Reiner coils his arms tighter around Galliard’s neck, sliding forward on his lap and grinding his groin forward. He fully expects that this is a prelude to sex—Galliard has a sex-drive that’s almost exhausting to keep up with, and even as pent up as Reiner was, he sometimes has trouble matching his pace—and is shocked to feel Galliard’s palms move to his hips and gently but firmly push him back. It’s so surprising that Reiner breaks their kiss and looks down at Galliard, his brows knit together in concern.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” Galliard glances away, not meeting Reiner’s eyes, and his hands move from Reiner’s hips to rest lightly at his waist. He bites his lower lip, something he does when he’s nervous, and Reiner almost leans in for another kiss to distract him from whatever is bothering him. “I, ah… I have my test tomorrow, so…” A pause as Galliard looks up at the ceiling, at Sarge across the room, at everywhere except Reiner. “So is it okay if we don’t fool around tonight?”
Reiner blinks; with the way Galliard was acting, he expected a request much worse than that. “Yeah, of course. That’s fine.” An ugly, insidious little voice tickles at the back of Reiner’s mind, but he ignores it, pushes it aside so he can focus on Galliard. “You want to stay sharp for your test, I get that.”
“Really?” Galliard’s eyes light up, and he looks weirdly grateful, which makes that voice speak up in Reiner’s mind again, louder and more insistent this time: has Galliard felt like he’s expected to fuck Reiner, every time he comes over?
“Really.” Reiner smiles at him, reaching up to brush that one strand of hair that refuses to stay off Galliard’s forehead back into the rest of it. “Is cuddling and kissing you still on the table?”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course, that’s fine.” This time, it’s Galliard who stretches up to kiss Reiner, and for a moment, everything is okay again.
But that voice, awakened now and yammering, won’t shut up, and Reiner slides off Galliard’s lap. “What do you want for dinner?”
“Can we order some pizzas?”
“Of course.”
The rest of the evening passes pleasantly enough; Reiner orders two large pizzas and then makes an enormous green salad while they’re waiting for delivery. Galliard sits at the dining room table and keeps Reiner entertained with stories from Starbucks, and occasionally ones from the club, but he never brings up camming, and Reiner doesn’t ask.
After they demolish their food, Galliard settles onto the couch and takes over the tv remote. Reiner expects him to find a sporting match or something similar, but Galliard settles on HGTV and an episode of House Hunters. He looks at Reiner defensively before putting the remote down.
“They play it all the time at the gym.”
“I know.” Reiner settles onto the couch next to him, and after a few moments of the show roll past, Galliard tucks him up under Reiner’s arm and puts his head on Reiner’s shoulder. They watch three episodes together, and Galliard sneers at the choices and budgets of the three couples, shaking his head at their reasons for turning down houses.
“What kind of house do you want?” Reiner asks him in the middle of the third episode.
Galliard snorts his bitter laugh. “You think I make enough money at Starbucks to afford a house?”
“You’ll be done with college soon.” Reiner tightens his arm around Galliard’s shoulders and strokes his hand over his hair, much like he’d do to a fretful cat. “It’s not that far away.”
Galliard scoffs under his breath, but leans back against Reiner’s side. He stays quiet for awhile, almost long enough for Reiner to think he’s dismissing the conversation, but as a commercial ends, Galliard speaks up again. His tone is soft, almost shy. “I’d want a place with a yard. Somewhere Sarge could go out.”
“A yard would be nice.” Reiner glances at Sarge, snoozing in his bed, and he desperately hopes Sarge will live long enough for Galliard to get him his yard. “What else?”
“Someplace quiet. With big trees around it.” Galliard glances up, looking at Reiner out of the corner of his eye. “What about you?”
“I want an open kitchen and dining room.”
Galliard chuckles. “For entertaining?”
“Yes. And enough space for at least one good guest room, so people could come and visit if they wanted to.”
Galliard nods. “Sounds nice.”
“Yeah.” The commercial break ends and the show starts up again, and they watch as a snooty couple chooses the house that neither of them likes.
Reiner showers while Galliard takes Sarge out for a pee break, and he’s wearing pajama bottoms and sitting on the bed when Galliard comes in from his own bathroom ritual, his face scrubbed and his hair falling on either side of his face. “Do you need pajama bottoms or anything?”
“Nope, I’m good.” Galliard pulls his shirt over his head in one smooth motion, giving a view that Reiner enjoys deeply, and then, surprisingly, skims out of his pants. It’s the first time he’s stripped down in front of Reiner, and Reiner wonders about the sudden change of heart until Galliard turns around to drape his jeans over a chair, pointedly showing Reiner his ass, and Reiner notices the brand-new, dark blue underwear he’s wearing.
Ah, Galliard wants to show off, and Reiner bites the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning. He scoots to the edge of the bed and stretches his arm out, cupping one of Galliard’s cheeks in his hand and running his thumb over the curve of his ass. “Look at you, being all fancy.”
Galliard swats his hand away, but he looks immensely pleased with himself when he turns around. The underwear does cradle his bulge lovingly, the low rise trunks falling just far enough down his legs to make them look longer, and Reiner can’t wait to get into bed and feel those legs entwined with his. “They’re just Hanes.”
Reiner is suddenly painfully conscious of the Prada logo on his own boxer briefs. “Brand doesn’t matter when you make them look that good.”
Galliard favors Reiner with a sidelong grin, then puts both hands on his shoulders and pushes him back into bed. “Flattery will get you nowhere, I have a test tomorrow.”
It takes a few moments, but Galliard gets them both arranged how he wants them, with Reiner laying on his side and Galliard spooning up behind him, one arm tossed around Reiner’s waist and holding him tight. Reiner doesn’t mind being the little spoon one bit, and links his fingers between Galliard’s, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as he turns off the lights. “What time do you want to get up tomorrow?”
“Nine.” Galliard sounds deeply delighted at the prospect, if already half asleep. “I’m going to sleep until nine.”
“All right.” Reiner knows he’ll be awake before then, and can get Galliard up. “Good night, Price.”
“No.”
“Dammit, not even a little?”
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Hi everyone 👋
Sorry for the short chapter I'm kinda busy 😅 to many works to be done with so this is a rush chapter but it's good right? 😅
Vote and comment 😘~~~~~❤️