JAWS (Complete)

Chapter 9

                            *Your's*

A/N:

Hi everyone 👋

Hmmm I'm writing a RxP again it's cannon but it's not  you know what I mean 😅

Anyway enjoy~ 😘

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  ----}WARNING!{----

There's a sex scene if your 16 below don't read this! It's for adults only🤗

It’s Wednesday again, and Galliard waits at the front desk at the gym. He feels almost well-rested, thanks to the nap he took yesterday, and he bounces on the balls of his feet, twitchy with rare nervous energy.

“What’s got you so wound up?” Hannah is watching him suspiciously, her hands hovering over her keyboard.

“I’m not wound up.”

“You are. You’re…” she waves a hand as she searches for the right word. “You’re happy.”

Galliard flashes her what he hopes is a dangerous, sharklike grin. “Happy that I’m making more paperwork for you.”

She rolls her eyes but turns back to her computer screen, and Galliard looks back towards the doors and forces himself to stop bouncing.

Is he happy? It’s a question Galliard never asks himself, because the answer is dangerous; he remembers being happy, once, and how everything came crashing down around him, and he’s not going to expose himself to that kind of vulnerability again. He can’t be vulnerable like that again, not now, not ever.

But there’s no denying that he’s doing better right now. With two regular clients and two more considering regular sessions, he’s getting better money from the gym, and doesn’t have to spend every waking hour here. There’s also a deep, atavistic satisfaction in watching Michelle hand over larger paychecks, her brow admirably wavering towards wrinkles despite all her Botox as she tries to figure out how he did it. That’s almost as great as having an actual schedule, one that he can organize other things around, and Galliard had discovered yesterday that he’d actually had free time.

Time which he’d spent figuring out economics better, and never mind that he’d had to go to Reiner thirstiest-bitch Braun’s place to do so.

“Now you’re smiling. Stop it, it’s creepy.”

Galliard narrows his eyes and glares at Hannah, who looks at him serenely from behind the protection of her computer. He hadn’t been smiling, had he? No, he definitely hadn’t. She’s just saying that to get a rise out of him.

Then the door opens, letting in a gush of chilly spring air, and Galliard turns to see Reiner walking in, his gym bag slung over his shoulder, and then Galliard doessmile, his big fake gym smile, and ignores how it rests a little easier, a little more naturally, on his face than usual.

~*~

Reiner is, as always, a diligent and conscientious client, and after only three sessions, Galliard is already starting to see improvements. Reiner just has one of those bodies that packs on muscle with very little encouragement, and Galliard finds himself having to consciously not think about how Reiner’s pecs are flexing when he spots him on the bench press. He has to ignore how Reiner’s calves flare out so widely halfway up his leg, or how Reiner’s shoulders are broad enough that he almost has to turn sideways to fit through a door.