When it’s all over, you sprawl there with Galley flopped on top of you, feeling all the bites and scratches and scorch marks start to ache, and you find yourself tracing satisfied designs on his sticky-out shoulderblade with your claws.
Welp. That sure was some hatesex you just had.
With your ashen bro.
Who may or may not now be your spadebro instead.
That would be kind of great.
But it would leave Pancho in the lurch.
But she was never in it for the long haul anyway, she just wanted to sort her shit and be done.
But you really like troubleshooting Galley’s problems.
But goddamn does he piss you off.
If you go with this, does that mean you can no longer help him sort his shit?
God damn but the guy fucks like a champion, though. You feel like you got run over by the sexy bus.
BC: my shame xs now complete.
BC: x’m not blamxng you for thxs, just so you know, but.
BC: oh god.
BC: we serxously just dxd that out loud.
BC: hurry up and answer your phone asshole
BC: argh come on
BC: x cannot make any noxse wxth my throat anymore. x dunno xf you notcxed but x sort of have a paralyzed squawkbox at the best of txmes and xt would just be super cool xf x could keep the few vowels x remaxn capable of pronouncxng, xf that xs okay wxth you.
BC: pxng, asshole.
BC: fuck. »8[
You blow a sad little raspberry against his sternum.
You grope around vaguely for your phone, but can’t reach it. It keeps beeping. You give a long-suffering groan, heave him off you, and roll on top of him so you can get it.
"Huh," you muse at last. You prop your head on your hand and grin saucily down at him. "You gotta admit it was pretty good, though."
BC: well yes, stupxd, xt was excellent. xt’s also not the poxnt.
You smack him high on the shoulder, trying not to sting him too badly.
BC: x don’t know why x dxd xt, though.
It takes you a while to answer. “I dunno, only you can answer that, man. And I reckon you kinda need to. Cuz if you was just mad at the whole world like you always are, an’ you took it out on me ‘cuz i was handy — well, I don’t grudge it, it was great, but it oughtta not happen again. Iffen that was personal, though —”
For the first time you can remember, you find yourself afraid to admit to having feelings. It’s just so goddamn weird, you don’t know how to deal with it. You’ve never choked on feelings talk before.
To cover it, you sit up and get your smokes out of your shirt pocket. “I already done scorched hell outta Bel’s pillows,” you shrug. “Lil’ ash won’t hurt none.”
As you inhale the first lungful of smoke, you realize that if you blew it in Galley’s face, he’d get mad at you again, maybe jump you again, maybe that would make the decision for you — but you can’t bring yourself to do it, not without hearing his answer, so you just sit there with smoke trickling out your sniffports like a dragon.
BC: well no xt’s not that
BC: x don’t thxnk x feel that way about you, xs all.
BC: x don’t thxnk x hate you at all.
BC: x hate me.
BC: and my moxraxl too a lxttle bxt sometxmes.
BC: whatever. x don’t feel bad about xt.