Fic - GaloLio - Late Night Car Ride
Nov. 28th, 2019 08:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lady_mabThe exact prompt is: "softe....... what if galo and lio ............ were in a car together on a road trip and it was the middle of the night" so of course i had to listen to progrock as i wrote this
Lio is, charitably, half awake. His head is propped against the passenger side window, using one of Galo’s sweatshirts as a pillow against the cool glass. The cabin is comfortable — it is warm and there is a haze to the silence.
There’s something playing over the radio, but he can’t remember whose phone is plugged in. It’s instrumental, not breaking the quiet.
Galo’s hand is warm on his thigh, and Lio’s fingers, after sleep mostly overtook him, remain barely hooked around Galo’s.
It’s a peace that Lio hasn’t felt in ages, and his eyes drift back shut.
He isn’t too sure how much time has passed, because it’s still dark out and there is nothing and no one for miles, but the next thing he’s aware of is a change in the tread of the truck — bouncing over a rougher road instead of the highway.
“Wasswrong?” he murmurs as Galo’s hand leaves his thigh.
“I want to show you something.” Galo’s expression is lit by the dashboard lights for a moment before he kills the engine. Then the cabin lights turn on and Lio winces at the sudden brightness. “Put on the sweatshirt, it’s pretty chilly here.”
Lio yawns before sitting upright. Half the sweatshirt is cold from the window, the other half warm from his head. But he pulls it on anyway and pushes open the passenger door as Galo swings out of the driver side.
A wave of cold hits him, and he frowns into the folds of the sweatshirt.
But then the sound and the smell wash over him a moment later, and he perks up just a little.
It’s a faint roar of static, almost rhythmic. It’s the smell of brine and the brisk, chill wind.
Lio rounds the truck in a rush, colliding with Galo in the darkness. “The beach! We’re at the ocean!”
Galo laughs. “Yeah! But also, there’s something else!” He hops up onto the hood of the truck, then pats the space next to him. “Still warm. C’mon!”
Lio takes the hand offered and is pulled up onto the hood alongside Galo. The metal is warm beneath him, and he settles in against Galo’s side to block the wind.
Somehow, the other man is only wearing a tshirt, and doesn’t seem to be fazed by the late autumn chill. Lio snuggles closer, and an arm drapes comfortably around his shoulders.
The horizon is lit by the moon, painting the tips of the water white and silver as the waves roll in. And overhead, the sky is a cascade of starlight — bright pinpricks and swirls of colors, visible away from the city lights.
Lio’s seen the sky before, but always with the distant haze of light pollution. No matter how far he went into the desert, it was never far enough. Always because he knew he would need to be close, to be found if something happened.
But now, with Galo, he can go as far as he wants. The two of them.
Overcome with emotion and not entirely too sure how to direct it or what to do with it, Lio pushes himself up.
Galo starts to make a sound, to ask if he’s okay, but Lio leans over so he has one hand on either side of Galo’s chest.
Lio blocks out Galo’s view of the sky, but if the expression on his face is any indication, he doesn’t quite mind. “Thank you,” he says, though that doesn’t quite convey the feelings.
Galo grins. “You’re welcome.”
“I love you.” There, that does it.
The smile becomes radiant, outshining the stars and the moon overhead. “I love you, too,” Galo says, reaching up to brush the wind-tangled hair away from Lio’s face.
This isn’t the first time they’ve said it to each other, not by a long shot, but Lio always feels the same shiver down his spine when Galo answers — at the first touch of his hand after the words, at the kiss that follows.
Lio is, charitably, half awake. His head is propped against the passenger side window, using one of Galo’s sweatshirts as a pillow against the cool glass. The cabin is comfortable — it is warm and there is a haze to the silence.
There’s something playing over the radio, but he can’t remember whose phone is plugged in. It’s instrumental, not breaking the quiet.
Galo’s hand is warm on his thigh, and Lio’s fingers, after sleep mostly overtook him, remain barely hooked around Galo’s.
It’s a peace that Lio hasn’t felt in ages, and his eyes drift back shut.
He isn’t too sure how much time has passed, because it’s still dark out and there is nothing and no one for miles, but the next thing he’s aware of is a change in the tread of the truck — bouncing over a rougher road instead of the highway.
“Wasswrong?” he murmurs as Galo’s hand leaves his thigh.
“I want to show you something.” Galo’s expression is lit by the dashboard lights for a moment before he kills the engine. Then the cabin lights turn on and Lio winces at the sudden brightness. “Put on the sweatshirt, it’s pretty chilly here.”
Lio yawns before sitting upright. Half the sweatshirt is cold from the window, the other half warm from his head. But he pulls it on anyway and pushes open the passenger door as Galo swings out of the driver side.
A wave of cold hits him, and he frowns into the folds of the sweatshirt.
But then the sound and the smell wash over him a moment later, and he perks up just a little.
It’s a faint roar of static, almost rhythmic. It’s the smell of brine and the brisk, chill wind.
Lio rounds the truck in a rush, colliding with Galo in the darkness. “The beach! We’re at the ocean!”
Galo laughs. “Yeah! But also, there’s something else!” He hops up onto the hood of the truck, then pats the space next to him. “Still warm. C’mon!”
Lio takes the hand offered and is pulled up onto the hood alongside Galo. The metal is warm beneath him, and he settles in against Galo’s side to block the wind.
Somehow, the other man is only wearing a tshirt, and doesn’t seem to be fazed by the late autumn chill. Lio snuggles closer, and an arm drapes comfortably around his shoulders.
The horizon is lit by the moon, painting the tips of the water white and silver as the waves roll in. And overhead, the sky is a cascade of starlight — bright pinpricks and swirls of colors, visible away from the city lights.
Lio’s seen the sky before, but always with the distant haze of light pollution. No matter how far he went into the desert, it was never far enough. Always because he knew he would need to be close, to be found if something happened.
But now, with Galo, he can go as far as he wants. The two of them.
Overcome with emotion and not entirely too sure how to direct it or what to do with it, Lio pushes himself up.
Galo starts to make a sound, to ask if he’s okay, but Lio leans over so he has one hand on either side of Galo’s chest.
Lio blocks out Galo’s view of the sky, but if the expression on his face is any indication, he doesn’t quite mind. “Thank you,” he says, though that doesn’t quite convey the feelings.
Galo grins. “You’re welcome.”
“I love you.” There, that does it.
The smile becomes radiant, outshining the stars and the moon overhead. “I love you, too,” Galo says, reaching up to brush the wind-tangled hair away from Lio’s face.
This isn’t the first time they’ve said it to each other, not by a long shot, but Lio always feels the same shiver down his spine when Galo answers — at the first touch of his hand after the words, at the kiss that follows.
