Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Gunfire · acrid smoke and blood in the air · Thomas is running, running

He collides · black bulletproof vest, hard arms pinning him · gas mask over the face, black

Thomas squirms but that grip is steel · ‘Who are you? let me go!’

The man in black clamps a leather-gloved hand over his mouth · Thomas wrenches his neck, tries to scream ‘no’ with his eyes as hard as he can

‘Keep your head down, keep quiet, don’t draw attention’, gravelly in his ear · The man shuffles him forward in the fleeing crowd

Thomas twists in his grip, grunting · tries to bite him through his thick gloves

‘I said keep quiet’

He shoves Thomas forward, making him stumble over his feet, until he gives up and falls in line · scanning his peripheral for any distraction, any chance of an escape

‘Damn, you’re soft’ · The man in black pokes him in the side · ‘How’d you get this far? someone drag your ass half the way?’

‘Mmmph’

‘No screaming, you hear?’ The man in black lowers his hand from Thomas’ mouth

‘I dragged my own ass, thanks very much,’ Thomas says

How would this shank know he’d come far, anyway? 

Thomas must still, still have that lost greenie look

‘And why?’ The man snaps Thomas right, into a grimy alleyway · ‘Don’t you know the world’s ended? why not find the first safe spot and hunker down?’

They emerge into a sunlit street · tattered shacks, the scent of rot and spilled gasoline

‘Unless,’ he adds, ‘you think this is your safe haven · because it ain’t’

He turns to the other masked figures dragging Thomas’ friends · Jorge can still be heard, fighting · fighting two of them by the sound of it · ‘Keep up!’

‘No, I… someone needs me · someone I love’

The man in black stumbles · kicks aside a charred piece of.. is that a leg? ‘Oh?’

Thomas swallows a shudder · ‘I’m not gonna let any of my friends be trapped here,’ with a wriggle to emphasize trapped

‘Oh · you l o v e your friends that much?’

‘What, you’ve never cared about somebody? you should try it sometime, asshole · love? human connection?’

‘Yeah, your current situation is a real good advertisement for that’ · He barks a laugh, distorted through the mask · ‘Good thing your dumb ass never fell in love · probably end up destroying yourself and half what’s left of the world’

‘Hey · who says I never fell in…’ He hasn’t · he doesn’t · talk about that anymore · doesn’t think about · Gally · anymore

‘Ahh’ · something mocking, almost silken, in the muffled voice · ‘bet that’s a story’

Thomas takes a jagged breath · ‘There was somebody · once · who I…’ Why is he talking about this? but his mouth runs on, like it always does · ‘someone who tried to protect me’

‘And? tell me about him’ · The man turns them into another alleyway choked with rubbish · ‘We’ve got a good walk ahead of us here’

Thomas sighs, tries not to breathe too much of the air · ‘He was… he was really, really colossally stupid’

‘Oh? not the brains of this whole operation of yours?’

‘Nope · dumb’ · Gally’s pale dark-veined face all open and soft and shocked, hands fumbling with the spear in his heart · ‘Dumb, and it killed him’

Glade sand in his mouth, Gally’s handprints bruised all over him and his own name, ringing in his mind · Thomas

‘Idiot · control freak · did I mention really frickin’ dumb, just, zero imagination..’ 

He can feel the man’s eyebrows raise, skeptic

‘And I fucking loved him’ · Thomas’ throat closes around the words

The breath of the man in black huffs out · through the mask it’s maybe a laugh, harsh like the rest of him · ‘Why the hell would you love somebody like that?’

‘Damned if I know · He was really pretty,’ Thomas whimpers · ‘he tried to.. he was…’

‘Don’t talk about him, okay?’ He rounds on the man · well tries to · ‘What do you know about it? What do you know about love anyway, with your frickin mask and your asking all these invasive personal questions to innocent strangers -- strangers you kidnapped not to mention..’

‘Innocent? right on the front lines of the rebellion, innocent?’ The man in black sweeps a hand back toward the carnage, the walls · ‘You know that city’s humanity’s last hope, right?’ bitter sarcasm deepens his tone · He claps his hand around Thomas’ arm again

‘Hope my ass · WCKD are torturers’

Wait · is this a WCKD agent? 

Oh shit, it is, isn’t it · who else would be after Thomas?

The man in black spins Thomas to face him · empty visor, just a thick neck and a cloud of buzzed hair visible · ‘Life is torture, dumbass · anyone who says differently is selling something'

He turns him back forward, not loosening his hold for a second, and they walk on

Thomas folds his arms as best he can within the man’s grip · ‘Well I’m not going quietly!’

He’s pretty sure the slinthead mutters, ‘Have you ever done anything quietly?’

‘You’re not gonna hook me up to your machines and drain my blood and..’

‘Yeah yeah, save it for the judge · We’re almost there · why don’t you finish your life story?’ He gives him a little kick in the shin and Thomas yelps · ‘This loser boyfriend of yours · tell me what happened to him’

Thomas scoffs and his mouth twists around it

He spits it out · ‘He died · Slinthead betrayed us all and killed my.. this kid, who was like a brother to me · and got a fucking spear through the chest’ · He adds, ‘before I could kill him myself’

The man in black snickers · ‘Sure · sounds like love to me’

Thomas snaps · ‘Don’t mock my grief’ · cradling Chuck’s body, staring fire into Gally’s eyes going glazed and horrified · ‘I died that day’

And then he’s being hustled into a parking garage, lined up beside his friends

‘Sure, greenie’ · The man in black lets go of Thomas’ arms, stands in front of him · grips the top of his gas mask · tugs it down

Stubborn mouth · brows like crashing waves · eyes the sea after a storm

‘Gally??’ Thomas’ voice cracks three octaves

Gally lets the mask drop to the concrete · twitches an Eyebrow

Thomas’ mouth hangs open

He looks Gally up and down · Inches taller, broader in the shoulders, solid muscle · new freckles across his nose and cheeks · buzzcut honey-coloured hair

And he decks him · fist to cheekbone, splintering

Gally hooks his ankle on the way down

Thomas thuds on top of him · arms braced on either side of his shoulders, shaking with adrenaline · pretty sure his knuckles are broken

Gally raises his Eyebrows, slow · ‘That all you have to say for yourself, greenie?’

‘Are you kidding me? you’re alive’ · Thomas lets out a teary breath · ‘I could kill you’

Gally’s face tightens with mischievous fire

He shoves Thomas off of him · slams him into the gritty concrete · one arm smashes the breath out of his chest

Gally · warm and crushing · those eyes pinning him, 8 months of pent-up storm

The world judders and stills · Thomas feels utterly, inexplicably safe

‘Not if I do it first,’ Gally says

And then their mouths bruise together and Gally’s teeth drag at Thomas’ lip · Thomas is driving his palms and the heels of his wrists into Gally’s chest, not sure if he’s hitting or caressing · Gally’s calloused hands choke at the back of his neck, sink vicious into his hair

Thomas hears whistles from behind them

Gally’s pulling them to their feet · scoops Thomas under the knees and fully picks him up · and he thinks they’re moving

Sunlight and shadow slicing red across his eyelids · Gally’s lips and teeth at his neck, extinguishing Thomas’ thought · except.. ‘You were dead,’ he gets out in some kind of whimper

‘Apparently’ · he sets his teeth around Thomas’ windpipe · ‘I was dumb’ · grazes his throat to his collarbone, so brutally gentle · ‘Colossally stupid?’

‘Slinthead,’ Thomas gasps · shoves at Gally 

Gally stumbles against a wall for a breath

He readjusts his grip on Thomas, crushes his nose into the hollow of Thomas’ throat until he goes lightteaded, pulse wild · ‘Zero imagination?’

‘Hmph’ · Thomas pushes Gally’s forehead away with his chin · finds the soft spot behind his jaw · he nips, gets a hand under Gally’s vest and shirt

Gally bites off a moan

Oh · ‘I don’t take it back,’ Thomas breathes against Gally's ear

Gally kicks a door shut behind them 

and Thomas is falling, falling

Chapter Text

Gally crushes Thomas against the door and they kiss, fevered · Gally’s buzzed hair rough under his fingers · Gally’s tongue on his · Gally here, impossible, real

Thomas' breath hitches faster · the more he takes Gally in the more he’s getting nervy and weepy, drowning his arousal

He breaks the kiss, bracing himself on Gally’s arms ·"Sorry — hold on a minute, I —"

"Yeah" · Gally crosses to his pallet on the floor and scoops Thomas easily into his lap · totally enveloping him · a quiet nothing can touch

Thomas sniffles into his chest

Gally has filled out · grown into his Eyebrows, as much as possible, and into the broad set of his shoulders · no longer the gangly angry boy who’s drifted through Thomas' dreams the past months · And apparently, whatever hell he’s been through has done the same thing to him as it has to Thomas · made the rivalry between them bloom into.. well, whatever's got Gally here now, holding him, chin resting easily on his head

Thomas, impossibly, calms down · his shoulders loosen · his breath evens out

He unbuttons the collar of Gally’s black shirt, slides his hand pensively under the black vest, searching · Gally catches on and shrugs out of the vest, then lets Thomas unbutton the rest of his shirt · His chest is all muscle and pale golden hair · And he might be more built than Thomas, but he doesn’t look like he’s been eating great

Thomas runs his fingertips lightly over the sunburst scar just above his heart

"Yeah," Gally says simply, throat tight · He intakes breath a couple times in succession, trying to say something ·"I · Can’t talk about it"

Thomas remembers the look Gally would give Chuck when he pestered to help with construction around the Glade · irritation, as always, but an amused tolerance to the set of his mouth · More than once he let him sort nails or something · He pictures Gally coming back to lucidity, sticky with blood, cheek on the concrete, maybe still face to face with Chuck · realising

"It’s okay," Thomas says, throat cramping around tears · He’s done enough shit himself · who knows, maybe if he’d listened to Gally earlier…"I mean it’s not okay · none of this is · it just wasn’t your…" He rests his forehead against Gally’s collarbone, slides hands along his back, caressing · accepting · soaking in that grief and sharing the guilt of it

Gally smells of sweat and blood and soap · even in this hellscape he’s managed to establish some kind of grooming routine · Thomas breathes him in ·"God, Gal, I.."

"Thought I was dead · yup" · as if he wants to finish the sentence to make sure Thomas wasn’t about to say something else

"But you’re not dead"

"No shit, Sherlock" · (who the hell is Sherlock anyway?)

Thomas huffs ·"Okay yeah but · how?"

Gally heaves a deep sigh, settles back against the wall ·"Dunno · woke up · wasn’t dead" · There’s a heavy pause that says that yeah, Chuck was probably…"This Last City shank and his crew come storming in to break into the maze · find me · half dead, by that time"

"They fix me up and take me to meet Lawrence · Lawrence the Dread, they’d call him · half-Crank slinthead · symbol of this whole godforsaken place · real magnetic, charismatic, they all either loved him or feared him · He didn’t exactly take a shine to me · Every night he’d see me off to my bunk like, ‘Good night, Gally · probably kill you in the morning’"

He pauses a moment ·"I’d spent a lot of time sick · recovering · did a lot of thinking · So.. I decided to slim it and make myself useful · fixing weapons · building, you know, plenty of material here but not a lot of people who know how to construct shit · and mapping the city," with an ironic edge to his voice · "And that’s all ·'til we saw your dumb asses during the parade"

"More like a riot," Thomas mutters

"Yeah yeah · you try keeping people in order when they’re living like this, slinthead"

Thomas laughs · "Never thought I’d hear you call me that again"

Gally huffs through his nose ·"Me neither" · His hand moves along Thomas' back, traces his spine ·"So · why am I doing it? the hell happened between then and now?’

The helicopters · that bloodstained fluorescent facility · the Scorch · Brenda · What comes out of his mouth is, "I was.. I’ve been scared" · He takes a long, shuddery breath · "for so long"

Gally just nods, mouth slanted to the side · and pulls Thomas' head back to his bare chest

Gally’s slow heartbeat thuds through Thomas · he rests his fingers against Thomas' head, a bit hesitant, and drags them lightly through his hair · Thomas drops his eyes shut with a moan · so Gally keeps playing with his hair, massaging his scalp

"Kind of always wanted to do that," he mutters absently

Thomas feels a little jolt to the heart at this very interesting information · but he’s so content he can’t even tease him about it · Gally’s unraveling tensions that Thomas didn’t even know were wound up in him

Gally is… the epitome of safety · making a home out of wherever he ends up..

Frypan sticks his head in, sees Gally shirtless and Thomas on his lap, lifts his bushy eyebrows, and closes the door again

"Dammit, Fry," Thomas mutters

‘Pretty sure everyone saw you jump on top of me and start making out with me," Gally says

"You kissed.. me…" Thomas trails off · Fry · the plan · Newt

He straightens, turns to face Gally ·"Listen, we’re here because WCKD has Minho" · his breath picks up again ·"and we have to get in, save him, get out — we don’t know where he —"

Gally pins his arms, looking unimpressed · unconcerned, even ·"Will you hold still for one goddamn minute?" He clears his throat · "Sorry" · Gally, apologising ·"You need to like · chill · if anyone’s gonna get anything done"

"Been getting things done just fine, chill or no chill," Thomas bitches

"Sure · you’ve lost at least ten pounds, you look fucking starving · by the shadows under your eyes you’ve been getting.. maybe half a night’s sleep · you and those slintheads ran out, just right into the middle, no cover, into that obvious setup for carnage"

Thomas shivers a little under Gally’s intent gaze · He’s looking at him, cataloguing, like he looked at the buildings after the Griever attack · marking the broken places

"Your face is an obvious setup for carnage," Thomas mutters weakly

Gally’s mouth thins to a line, but that’s definitely amusement in the corners of his eyes

Thomas takes a quick breath, the awareness of where they are edging back in · "Minho’s gone," he repeats ·"he’s gone and it’s my fucking fault for messing up the rescue the first time · and Newt had to come with us and now he’s fucking infected" — he didn’t want to say that out loud, but around Gally it comes out, and his throat is cramping around tears again — "fucking Newt, I can’t do this, and it’s my fault…"

Gally’s hands clench around Thomas’ arms and his face spasms and goes hard, jaded · His breath empties out, angry · But it’s not anger at Thomas

Then he nods evenly, eyebrows quirked · "Well · me? I wanted to keep all you shanks safe" · mocking and grieved · "all of you · safe," he repeats, with a bitter laugh · "so · I fucking get it" · He takes a breath · "And you’ve done a lot better, in that regard, than me"

Thomas opens his mouth to make some crowing retort, but nothing comes · It feels good, to hear that from Gally · who, if they’d been working together, could probably have fine-tuned Thomas' ideas into something solid · safer · not involving Teresa betraying them and Minho getting stolen ·"I need to fix it," he says, quiet and desperate

Gally’s mouth presses into a smile ·"You will"

For the first time since they opened up that train car and Minho wasn’t there, Thomas kind of believes it · Except a cure is…

Gally continues, "but not tonight · Nothing we can do tonight’

"So what, I just stop thinking about it? I can’t just stop thinking about it, Gal, it’s both of them, it’s.." Rather like Gally must have felt when he’d run into the Maze · The leader and the head Runner (and one greenie), on the other side of that wall · gone

"Well we’ve got to · so find a fucking distraction" · Gally moves his hand to the soft hair at the nape of Thomas' neck · There was no hesitation when they kissed before, but there’s sorrow between them now instead of fire, and Gally’s eyes drop from Thomas' · almost shy

And that makes something in Thomas take the bait and go absolutely feral · wanting to get his fingers and his tongue into that little chink of vulnerability in Gally and work it wide open · wanting to straddle Gally and drag his tongue up his throat, to see if he can get him startled, if he can get him pleading..

And.. yeah · he’s thinking a little less, now, about the fact that one of his best friends is being tortured and the other one’s dying

Gally closes his eyes, sun in his gold lashes · leans in and kisses him · Not like before: careful · deliberate · pausing for breath every few kisses, hands slowly working under Thomas' shirt · Thomas isn’t sure if he’s taking him apart or putting him back together · But somehow, just like he found the energy to fight with Gally when his whole world was confusion and fear and not even knowing his own name.. now he finds himself impossibly able to just do this

"Why’re you being so nice all of a sudden, Gally, hm?" Thomas mumbles against the stubble of his chin

"Could say the same about you," tickling his skin

"Who says I’m being nice?" Thomas moves his lips, feather-light, over the darkening bruise on Gally’s cheekbone ·"You’re the one who quote unquote, jumped on top of me and started making out with me"

Gally huffs a laugh · "Yeah · well · Almost died · guess my brain got permanently shucked"

"You should almost-die more often…" Thomas' mind catches up with his words and he remembers how much almost-dying there’s been lately · his hands tighten on Gally’s biceps · "actually don’t · maybe don’t"

Gally grins against Thomas' mouth · "Aw man, there go my weekend plans"

Thomas runs his tongue along Gally’s teeth, savours his smile · First smile they’ve shared · first time they’ve been in sync, not fighting for all they were worth (with, in retrospect, many kinds of tension between them) · It feels so, so right

They kiss more · settle into a pleasant rhythm that slowly dissolves the apocalypse around them until it’s just Gally’s calloused hands smoothing up and down Thomas' back, slowly getting him out of his shirt · Thomas' thumbs rub fretful seeking circles into Gally's shoulderblades

"This is nice," Gally says, matter-of-fact

"Yeah" · Thomas nips at his bottom lip · "shoulda done it earlier"

"Probably so"

Then, natural as anything, like a river eroding a sandbank, they're bare chest to chest and Gally is lowering Thomas to the bed, looming over him · one hand cradling the back of his head, the other worked under his pants, thumb pressing the divot of his hipbone and fingers digging into his ass

Thomas cranes his head up to get his mouth on the soft hollow above Gally's collarbone, presses the flat of his tongue against the jut of his throat to drink in the vibration of his moans

"Leave a mark," Gally says through his teeth

Thomas kind of whimpers in acknowledgement, sinks his teeth in a little, sucks at the soft skin (god he's obsessed already with the places where Gally is soft), spit getting everywhere

Gally barks a breathless laugh ·"Not like that, idiot"

"Well I'm sorry, I haven't been going around for the past six months giving people —"

"Seven months · and a couple days" · Gally crushes him to the mattress, one knee crowded between Thomas' legs, and attaches his lips to the side of Thomas' neck, sucking insistently

Thomas' breath hisses in through his teeth and he throws his head back · Gally's hand is still cupping his hip, thumb rubbing his hipbone in time with mouth on Thomas' neck · Every muscle of Thomas strains against Gally and his hips jerk up, pressing his crotch against Gally's knee and sending stars through all his nerves

Gally scrapes his teeth gently, achingly against Thomas' skin and detaches himself · passes a finger over the mark, looking smug · He's flushed, mouth slack, but he says, "See, greenie, that's how you —"

Half a snarl punches out of Thomas' throat and he pushes up against Gally, trying to flip them over but Gally is too damn solid · "Come on," he gasps

Gally locks an arm around his shoulders and rolls them over · gets his pants halfway down so Thomas is straddling him, Gally's hands warm and rough on the back of his bare thighs

Thomas leans down and presses his mouth just above Gally’s collarbone · sucks the skin between his teeth and lips until Gally’s all soft moans, his blunt nails scraping thin stinging lines down Thomas' thighs, and he could probably do this forever

But after a while Gally lifts a hand and tugs at Thomas' hair · so he pulls off, swirls his tongue over the mark

Gally’s breath huffs out · "Not bad, greenie"

His hand drops from Thomas' hair, but Thomas frowns and tugs it back up · Gally smirks slantwise and fists his hand in Thomas' hair, sending a sweet stinging ache along his scalp · Thomas' eyes drop shut and his breath staggers out

And then Gally pulls him down to his mouth and they’re kissing again, lazy, Gally’s hands working through Thomas' hair, his tongue stroking Thomas' slow and thorough and claiming · gathering heat

Thomas wants to do this all the time · wants Gally to build them a home and a bed and to wake up in it, without a whole fucking government to take down · just him and Gally and sunshine and time

Gally slides his hands down Thomas' body and pushes him a bit upright, sets hands around his hips and adjusts him · so they’re centred and so Thomas can feel, with a little quiver of his jaw, how hard Gally is under him

Gally’s eyes move over Thomas' face, relaxed, studying · He thrusts his hips once into Thomas' groin, with a hard, suggestive little quirk of the mouth that sends a jolt up Thomas' spine

"Fuck," Thomas says softly, with feeling · He moves his hands up Gally’s arms, reveling in the solid muscle of him, of every place they’re connected

He raises his eyebrows at him, caressingly · "So · you gonna do me or what?" His hands drift down Gally’s stomach, feeling the muscles jump under his palms, and he teases the skin at the waistband of his pants, fingers dipping circles underneath

Gally’s eyes flutter shut and he hums low in his throat, lets Thomas slowly undo his pants 

Then he says, "You sure you want it? I’m kind of the worst"

Thomas’ mouth twists, feeling the echo of his own perfectionism, his own guilt · All he says is, "So am I" · and then, rolling his hips a bit to emphasise, "Besides, otherwise there’s no way I’m getting to sleep"

Gally grunts a laugh · "Alright then" · He slaps Thomas' ass lightly and says, "Give me a minute to get something," and Thomas startles and moves off him

Gally stands, zips his pants back up and adjusts himself inside and pulls a jacket on, casual as anything · "Gotta kick some shanks out of this room anyway"

Thomas gets himself the rest of the way out of his pants and spends the minute or two Gally is gone trying out different seductive poses for when he gets back, very diligently so none of the dark thoughts push back in

When Gally creaks open the door, Thomas is laid out on his side with his legs sprawled open, one wrist draped over a knee and the other hand halfway in his boxers · He drops his chin and looks up at Gally through his eyelashes

Gally actually looks flustered for a second, which is delightful · He’s carrying a little glass bottle of pale golden liquid · which Thomas at first thinks, really, you need to be drunk to fuck me · and then he realises it’s probably some kind of oil, and then it’s his turn to be flustered

Gally sets the bottle on a rickety side table and sits heavily on the bed · once again shy to approach

But all Thomas’ bare skin is getting chilly and aching to touch Gally's again · Thomas unfolds himself from his seductive pose, sinks his knees into the mattress by Gally, and has the pleasure of slipping Gally’s jacket off him for the second time and seeing how Gally relaxes at his touch

He makes his hands gentle over Gally's chest and back, over the familiar scars and lots of new ones, thin lines, messy knots of cartilage where a bullet's been dug out · and especially the puckered, rough-healed indentation over his lung · Makes the touch an apology and an antidote, best he can

He thinks, what with all this searching for a cure, maybe this is it · Maybe love, scarring over wounds that should've been fatal, is the only cure there is

And that thought is so sappy, even for Thomas, that he snorts a laugh at himself, fingers pausing over the hole in Gally's chest

"Yeah, slinthead," Gally says, an edge roughening his voice, "it's real hilarious"

"It is a little," Thomas' mouth says, which is a dumb thing to say because it really isn't, and he’s supposed to be treading so carefully, trying not to make Gally mad again, to wreck things between them like always · He presses his lips to the ruined skin, feels how it's knit together by stitch marks and sheer grit and grief on Gally's part · "I mean, you gotta laugh or you'll cry..."

"I don't need your pity, greenie," Gally says · but his voice is already dropping low and heavy from Thomas touching him, and the way his hands cradle Thomas' waist and hips and ass says, thrillingly, that he might need a lot from Thomas

"Just my dick?" Thomas says, syrupy

A laugh cracks out of Gally and his fingers stutter against Thomas' hips · but he says, weirdly defensive about it, "I don't need anything"

Fair · everything Gally must've thought he needed — his home in the Glade, his position and routine, his friends, his shuck memories — has been taken from him · and here he is, still Gally

Thomas kisses a path up Thomas’ chest, sucks briefly at the hollow of his throat

He looks up at Gally ·"You want me though?"

Gally just pulls Thomas onto his lap, mouth at the mark on his neck, and Thomas shuts up

And then they're kissing again, gathering heat · Thomas moves his hands down, palming Gally through his pants in between attacking his belt

Gally has enough, throws Thomas back onto the bed — Thomas' brain briefly short-circuits — and unzips his fly · something like a whimper escapes Thomas' throat · Then he's sprawled on the hard mattress, watching Gally shuffle violently out of his pants and alternate between making burning eye contact and looking with a hard awkward gaze at the mattress

"Gal," Thomas says, thready and helpless

Gally pulls off his boxers and hesitates a moment, sort of clears his throat (why is that turning Thomas on), looking at the clothes scattered all around · Thomas could swear, with the miniscule part of his brain that's not drinking in Gally bare in front of him, that for a moment he's thinking about folding them all neatly and setting them aside

Thomas reaches out his arms and makes a come-hither grab in the air at Gally, and Gally snaps back to attention · He surges forward, slides his hands down Thomas' sides and hips like he likes touching all Thomas' skin, in a way that makes Thomas press up hungrily into his touch, and pulls off his boxers

Now he's down by Thomas' feet, and he presses a kiss to the inside of his ankle · so spontaneous and warm that Thomas sighs

Gally kisses Thomas' calf, his knee, grazes his teeth along the inside of his thigh and Thomas' breath wheezes in, whimpery, fuck, he's already so gone

Gally overshadows him, braces himself on one arm and hooks one of Thomas' legs over his shoulder · rakes his eyes up and down him, and shivery heat follows his gaze across Thomas' skin, freckled, pale where it's not sunburnt, exposed · nothing between them anymore, no fight, no masks

It's too much · Thomas makes a whimper like, get on with it

Gally flexes his arm and leans in close to Thomas' ear · "Kinda like you like this"

A shiver passes from Thomas' feet to his scalp, making his eyes flutter · Gally's already leant over to oil up his fingers, but Thomas gets out, strained and gravelly, "I'd like you better if you were —"

Gally pushes a finger into him

Thomas' lungs empty · It's.. kind of weird..

Gally's looking up at him, which makes Thomas' face heat more than the fact he's a knuckle deep inside him, because that Look of his has always been so intense, so all-encompassing

Gally withdraws his finger with a little only half-apologetic wince and commences again more gently, getting more oil, swirling his finger and loosening Thomas up · He's making the pinched-eyebrows, steady-gaze face he does when he's concentrating, which to be honest is hot as fuck..

He works his finger deeper, then another · as Thomas spasms around him, hands clenching and unclenching in the sheet, breath hitching high and desperate in the back of his throat

By the time Gally has three fingers in him, Thomas is melting · and it kind of hurts and is also driving him crazy, and he needs more · typical Gally

"Gal, c'mon, I'm good"

Gally curls his fingers, sending a white-hot jolt of pleasure through him · Thomas chokes

Gally pulls his fingers out slowly and Thomas moans

Gally adjusts Thomas' legs, getting them both over his shoulders and pressing forward · "Comfortable?"

"Fuck — no — I mean —" He grasps at Gally's arms, pulling him in — "for fuck's sake —"

Gally grins, but it's a bit shaky and he's flushed

Thomas grabs Gally's cock to fucking get him inside already and Gally's eyes drop shut for a moment · He groans, pushes slowly into Thomas —

"Ow," Thomas grunts, not at all sexily

Gally bites his lip against a laugh, trying to hold still ·"Sorry · sorry · give you a minute · fuck" · He tenses against the shudder that takes him

Thomas' nails dig into Gally's arms and he tries to breathe · He's hot and shivery and Gally is inside him, tight, filling him up

Gally's braced on his forearms, holding himself still · he cups Thomas' jaw, pressing in with his thumb, gazing at him with such focus · Thomas is dissolving· He slides his hands up Gally's arms, feeling how strong he is, how close and fused with Thomas, unshakeable

Thomas says, creaky, "You like this? am I good?" He means it in so many ways · is he good, just him, just this, when he's not trying to save everybody · is he good now, before he inevitably messes up trying to save everybody and the city crumbles around them

Gally leans down to kiss him · "Really fucking good, Thomas," he says · like a confession

Thomas' breath shudders out and he inhales, gathers that affirmation into him · determining to BE good · to do what needs to be —

Gally nips at his nose ·"Focus," he says, like he knows exactly how Thomas' mind is scattering and scheming

Then Gally's moving, sweet burning shock · Thomas arches off the bed and snaps back into his body with a strangled whine

Gally's hand slides behind Thomas' head, supporting and caressing · He rolls his hips into Thomas, agonisingly slow · He's being so gentle, so thorough and Thomas needs needs needs · Gally’s restraint with him, his care, like a dammed river, is fucking hot but it’s.. disconcerting

Gally’s never held back on Thomas · He’s demolished all Thomas’ ideas, told him exactly the disastrous consequences of his actions, nailed all the chaos, each death, square on him · And now, Thomas and Newt and Fry and Min, everyone left of the Glade, they shouldn’t be in this bind · They’re risking everything and they’re probably going to lose everything, and it’s Thomas’ fault · And he tells Gally all this shit, gives himself to him, and all Gally’s doing is fucking him delirious with pleasure

It makes Thomas spontaneously, weirdly angry · He digs his heels into Gally’s back, his moans getting teary, and punches weakly at his arm

Gally freezes, panting

"Come on," Thomas whimpers 

Gally looks so completely done with Thomas’ Thomas-ness · Better · "The fuck?"

Thomas is a mess, anger storming in his gut along with Gally who is literally inside him and feels so good · too good · His nails rake Gally’s arms · "Take it out on me"

Something in Gally’s expression cracks

He shifts to one arm, dragging a noise out of Thomas · shoves Thomas’ right hand against the crater in his chest · He bites down hard on Thomas’ lower lip, and all the hurting sparks in him gather there and start to dissipate · "No," Gally says

He drives into Thomas, hitting a spot that makes him cry out hoarsely · He pins Thomas’ thighs to the bed and bites kisses into his mouth and fucks him, rhythm going desperate and uneven · Thomas’ head turns dizzy and starry and he’s arching for Gally, all his muscles tense and shaking

He tastes Gally’s anger and despair, same as his own · not at Thomas · but at the shuck world around them · They share that bitterness, bruise it into each other · and some alchemy melds everything into absolute fucking ecstasy

And pounding tension, tighter and tighter and unbearably exquisitely too much, ripping sobs and pleas out of Thomas · Gally is moaning wantonly, so good

Gally thrusts deep, stills for a suspended instant · then shatters, shuddering — "Thomas, Thomas" — and Thomas is going to fucking die

And he breaks, white-hot, his mind juddering somewhere in the stratosphere

Thomas comes down, reeling, blood hot in his face and chest · Gally crushing him, face in his neck, totally loose and uncontrolled for once

"What century is it?" Thomas mumbles, dreamy

Gally snorts · "22nd · Flare · world's shucked"

Thomas slides his hands up Gally's ass and his spine, savouring his shiver and the way he presses thoughtlessly into the touch · "Damn, even I wasn't good enough to make you forget?"

"Not forget" · Gally kisses Thomas' neck and jaw, messy · "Don't care"

He grips Thomas' waist and rolls them over, cradles Thomas against his chest · like Thomas is something precious, soft · kisses the sweaty hair at his temples, his forehead at the bridge of his nose · each of his eyelids, barest press of the lips· Thomas, for once in his life, is spellbound and silent

"Tom," Gally says · not greenie, not shank, not firecracker motherfucking idiot who ruined my home

"Gal," Thomas singsongs

Around them, evening falls on the outskirts of the city of humanity's last hope · on the glimmering tower, reflecting the Crank bonfires, where they're torturing the last fibres of Minho's steel sanity · on Newt, somewhere near, alone, turning his wrist under the dying killing sun

"We're gonna be okay," Gally says into Thomas' hair