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“Because I don’t want to break you with my dick!” Galo yells in the middle of crowded fire station. The ensuing silence is impressive, broken only by the sound of Galo slapping a hand over his own mouth. He stares at Lio, eyes huge.

Lio’s cock twitches a little, hopefully unseen in the general obfuscation of his belts, and he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Galo Thymos.”

Lucia’s head pops up out of a mass of alarming, luridly glowing coils. “Do you need some tech help, G?” she asks interestedly. “I have soooo many toys, oh, and the industrial lubrica—”

“He does not,” Lio interrupts, before this can derail too much further, and starts manhandling Galo out of the room. “Need any tech help. Thank you. Please excuse us.”

“Get it, boss,” Gueira says, respectfully resigned to his leader’s taste in men, while Meis just looks woeful, like someone kicked his puppy, or him, or both. The rest of the team looks generally unsurprised and unconcerned by the goings-on and mostly seems to be sorting out some sort of betting pool; Lio supposes it is, really, just a typical Tuesday in Promepolis.

Galo follows Lio meekly into the stairwell, hunched up like he’s trying to make his massive body somehow less obtrusive.

“Sorry,” he says meekly, and looks way more adorable toeing at the corrugated metal of the stairs than any massive slice of fire-fighting beefcake ever should, but that was Galo for you. “I didn’t mean to say it that loud. Or out loud.”

Lio shakes his head. “No, it’s my fault. I need to be more clear.” Communication, his therapist has assured him, is absolutely key to a successful relationship with people in society, whether romantic or otherwise. “I actually would really like you to break me, non-literally, with your dick, so don’t worry about that.”

From the look on Galo’s face, Lio may have accidentally actually broken him instead. He finds himself smiling up at Galo before he can stop himself. It’s cute. It’s really cute, Galo is – just. Cute in a way Lio hadn’t realized he even liked, until this sweet, sincere idiot had tripped into his lap and saved his life, had just earnestly accepted Lio exactly as he was and leaned into him all the time, and walked around shirtless, and casually called Lio beautiful, or sexy, or hot; he shot fingerguns at Lio with a wink multiple times a day, and then also completely rebuffed Lio’s every advance.

Apparently out of a misguided, but again – cute, so cute – concern about Lio’s physical well-being.

From the flushed look on Galo’s face, he’s doing some abrupt mental restructuring. “Oh. Oh!”

“So it’s not that you don’t… want a relationship?” Lio checks. “You were avoiding me because…” Of your massive dick, apparently. Lio hasn’t seen or anything, but he can infer, and it’s not really been a factor at all in his pursuing Galo – he doesn’t care what Galo’s packing in his pants when it’s the whole package he wants – but… he’s also pretty into the idea.

“Because I… really want to kiss you, like. All the time, basically.” Galo has a hand in his hair and is blushing madly, staring up at the ceiling. “I really like you, Lio Fotia. And – if I kiss you, I’ll… um. You’re really hot, Lio. And you’re also – ” He held out a hand, then moved it slowly lower and lower to the ground. “Really… tiny.”

This is true. “You really like me?” He’s smiling again, relieved and a little – a lot – excited. Galo is smiling back at him sheepishly.

“I really like you!”

“Then we should… date. Right?” Dating is the right word, Lio thinks, for wanting someone to always be around, even when they’re loud and obsessed with cooking shows and yell about their dick in public places. Lio wants weird things from Galo, like to hold his hand, and wear his giant sweaty firefighting jacket and sniff the collar when no one’s looking, and to sit and eat noodles with him at 3AM when they’re both exhausted with the minutiae of rebuilding a city and a world and a people together.

He’d thought they were on the same page, not least because Galo kept touching him, moving into his space, tugging Lio into his lap, spinning him around in excited dances when things went well, or taking him into a quiet stairwell – this stairwell, in fact – when things went wrong, and just holding him quietly while Lio raged and screamed into his palms.

So when Lio had kissed him yesterday, and Galo had conspicuously panicked and flung him off his lap, Lio had been – devastated seems like a strong word, but he’d also been confused.

“You’re really not… worried?” Galo checks, fidgeting with his belt loops.

“Really not worried. Worst case scenario, you could - ” He makes a jerk-off gesture, and is charmed all over again when Galo goes bright red. “But I think I can handle your dick, Galo Thymos.”

“Well jeez,” Galo says, going a softer, sweeter shade of pink, and his hand finds Lio’s, engulfs it almost entirely. He really is just – an extremely large, extremely attractive guy. “Buy a guy dinner first.”

Lio huffs out an exasperated laugh, and hip-bumps Galo into a wall, then presses a hand to his chest, holding him there. “Maybe I will. You free tonight?”

Galo beams at him, and there’s the finger guns again. What a dork. Lio likes him so much more than he’d ever thought he could like someone, in this soft, easy kind of way. “So… can I kiss you then? For real this time.” He looks nervous, and hopeful. Lio goes up on his tiptoes, and Galo bends down, cupping his face in a shaking hand, and presses their mouths together. Lio feels sparks run over his skin, shivering turquoise and pink, before he catches himself.

“Tickles,” Galo murmurs, eyes bright. Neither of them has closed their eyes, and it’s a little awkward but also feels intense, in a good way. Galo’s irises are the same turquoise of the Promare, and hot the way their fire feels. Still, somehow, when Galo presses in again, mouth a little firmer, lips slightly parted, and Lio’s head tilts back, his eyes slide shut, and that’s good, too.

In between one breath and the next, the kisses deepen, until Lio’s back up against a wall and Galo is lifting him up and Lio’s legs are around his waist. Lio really didn’t mean to start this at work but Galo is an extraordinarily good kisser, unself-conscious and so eager, that Lio feels like he’s gone from room temperature to a blaze in seconds.

“Lio, Lio, I like you so much,” Galo pulls back, moaning and pressing kisses along Lio’s neck. “I really, really like you.”

“Galo,” Lio murmurs, low and almost pained. Fuck, he’s a few seconds away from dry humping Galo in the stairwell like a teenager. “Galo, we’re at work.”

“See, I told you,” Galo says, kissing him again, and again, like he can’t stop himself. “You’re too hot.”

You’re too hot,” Lio says indignantly, because seriously, at least he wears a shirt. He flicks one of Galo’s nipples. The result – Galo, shuddering and jaw dropping, before pushing harder into the wall and rocking his hips – really is something Lio should have anticipated.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, and grinds down. “Your dick really is – wow, Galo.”

“I told you,” Galo repeats, and keeps kissing him. “But you still owe me dinner. So, I’m gonna… put you down. Any, mmph, any second now. Lio, Lio, ah, I really – like kissing you, you’re so hot, Lio.”

“I really like you,” Lio says, and finally makes himself wriggle free, adjusting his hair and belts and cuffs as Galo pants, one hand on the wall. “Need a minute?”

“Shh, I’m meditating, stop being sexy over there.”

“Meditating about what?” Lio asks, curious.

Galo shoots a grin over his shoulder and an OK symbol with his other hand. “Matoi, of course!”

He really, really likes this dorky guy, so much. Fuck.

“Okay, I’m gonna – I’ll see you after work?” he checks, and gets a bright smile and a nod. “For dinner?”

“And maybe sex?” Galo asks hopefully, wriggling his hips and doing – something – to adjust what’s going on in his pants; Lio’s not looking, because he’s got enough of his own pants issues going on without adding more contemplation of Galo’s dick to the mix.

“Definitely kisses, maybe sex,” Lio agrees, and after he feels slightly less indecent, goes back to the main office to check on the status for the afternoon’s test runs, and also the betting pool, and maybe on Lucia.

Because, well. He might actually take her up on that industrial grade lubricant.