JAWS (Complete)

Chapter 15

*Gentle touch/Sleepover*

(Found this one on FB it's so cute⬆️)

Enjoy 😘
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Once Bertolt is safely disconnected and can’t tell that story, Reiner lets out all his breath in a huff and rolls over onto his back, linking his hands behind his head. He still has Galliard squashed against the back of the couch, but he’s not worried; Galliard is tough and the couch is comfortable, and Reiner really only has his legs pinned. He knows Galliard’s legs are strong enough to toss him off if he really wants to. “That went well, Preston.”

Galliard wrinkles his nose, and drums his fingers along Reiner’s chest, playing Reiner’s ribs like a xylophone, apparently in no hurry to throw him off. “That sounds like a gross middle-aged guy who goes to Thailand twice a year to bang prostitutes.”

“Sooooo… not your name?”

“God, no.” Galliard shakes his head and lifts one hand to tweak Reiner’s nose, making him blink. “You’re really bad at this.”

“But I keep trying, and that’s the important thing.” Galliard rolls his eyes, and Reiner just smiles, shifting his shoulders back and forth to get more comfortable on his lap. Galliard moves his hand from Reiner’s nose to his hair, brushing it back and then playing with it, making it stand up. Reiner does his best to not start purring like a contented cat while also quietly hoping Galliard scratches along his belly.

Galliard doesn’t scratch his belly; what he does instead is gently pull and twist Reiner’s hair, drawing it up into little tufts. When he’s done with the hair on Reiner’s head, he moves to his beard, pushing against the hair with his fingertips and trying to get it to stand up. Reiner closes his eyes and lets him, simply enjoying the sensation of Galliard’s hand on his face. He hadn’t realized how starved for affection he’d truly gotten until Galliard had, reluctantly at first but then with increasing frequency and eagerness, started touching him. It isn’t even the sexual touching that Reiner loves the most, although he certainly has no complaints in that department. It’s the simple things like this: feeling Galliard’s firm thighs under his back; Galliard’s fingers stroking along his jawline; Galliard’s other hand resting on his abdomen, splayed out and warm, occasionally drumming along his ribs; the push of Galliard’s belly when he breathes in, pressing against Reiner’s side.

“You told him about me.”

“Hmmm?” Reiner opens one eye; Galliard’s hand has stopped moving on his face, settling down near his collarbone. Galliard is looking down at him, wearing his pensive, thoughtful expression, the one that makes a line form between his eyebrows.

“Bertolt. You told him about me.”

“Of course I did.” Reiner opens his other eye and gives Galliard his full attention. “I told you about him, too.”

Galliard nods, still deep in thought. “You’ve known him for a long time.”

“Almost twenty years now.” Reiner slides his arm out from behind his head and drapes it along the couch’s cushions, letting it rest on Galliard’s arm so he can reach the back of his head and play with the short, bristly hairs there. Once he realizes what Reiner is going for, Galliard even lowers his head a little so Reiner can reach him more easily. “Bertolt is my family at this point.”