Archive of Our Own

A sharp stinging across his fingers. Another red mark. Gally hissed, attention snapping to the pain. "Ow..."

Minho snorted beside him, lightly jabbing him in the ribs with his elbow. "Again?" he snickered. Quickly glancing to the front of the room to check their teacher hadn't noticed them, he whispered, "Man, your soulmate has got to be the clumsiest person alive."

With a dismissive grunt, Gally ran his thumb over the stripe across the middle three fingers of his left hand. "Needs to be kept away from sharp objects," he muttered, picking up his pen again and returning to taking notes from the whiteboard.

"They probably think you need to stop getting into fights," Minho countered, tapping the fading bruises on the knuckles of Gally's right hand with his pen.

"Whatever," Gally shrugged.

"Anything you'd like to share, boys?" came a stern voice from the front of the room, both boys looking up to find their teacher with her arms folded and an eyebrow raised.

Wordlessly, Gally lifted his hand to show her the marks on his fingers.

With a sigh and eye-roll, she stated, "You have your work cut out for you with that one, Gally," and returned to leading the class.

That should have been the end of it. Usually, a mark appeared, Gally grumbled, and the day went on. But not today.

"Ow!" Gally clutched at his side as pain bloomed across his ribs. "Dammit..."

"Gal?" Minho frowned.

Gally's head spun and he gripped the desk, watching bruises spread across his arms. "Jesus..."

"Minho," their teacher spoke up suddenly, "take him to the nurse."

"Yes, Mrs Lang." Minho was already out of his seat, pulling Gally's arm around his shoulders and hauling the taller boy to his feet. A pained yelp left Gally's mouth as his left knee buckled under his weight. "Man, we gotta find whoever this is and wrap them in bubble wrap."

"Shut up and help me," Gally huffed, limping towards the door with Minho's assistance.

Minho knew better than to argue, silently shuffling through the halls with Gally clutching his shoulder. He gave the nurse's office door a sharp knock, pushing it open when an affirmative call came through it. "Sorry, Miss T," Minho sighed, tugging Gally through the door.

Glancing up from her desk, the young nurse's face fell. "Again?" She pushed herself to her feet and helped Minho with moving Gally to the bed that took up the opposite wall of her office. "And I told you, Minho, don't call me 'Miss'. I'm only a couple years older than you."

"Sorry, Teresa," Minho smirked.

"Save it," Gally mumbled, carefully lying on his back.

Shaking her head, Teresa turned to open the fridge beside her and retrieve some cold compresses. "I can't imagine this," she admitted, allowing Gally to show her where the worst points of pain were and applying the cold. "I don't get much of this at all."

Gally huffed, then flinched when Teresa inspected his aching knee. "No need to rub it in."

"No one gets this as bad as Gally," Minho pointed out, folding his arms and leaning back against the wall.

"I've seen one worse," Teresa sighed. She moved Gally's knee into a more comfortable position, then applied the final compress to it. "One of the girls I trained with. Constantly covered in bruises and cut-marks. Her knuckles were a mess." Moving to find Gally some pain relief, Teresa continued, "Turns out her soulmate's a bare-knuckle boxer. Assumed no one could ever love him, or something like that, because she was so careful and never hurt herself. He'd never seen any evidence he had a soulmate, so he just didn't think anyone else was dealing with his injuries."

"Well, Gally's can't think that," Minho snickered, ducking away when Gally tried to kick him. "Feel bad for whoever ended up with your split lip two months ago."

"I might, too, if they didn't keep fucking me over like this," Gally muttered, eyes on the ceiling.

Teresa handed Gally two pills and a cup of water, which he lifted his head just enough to down. "They're probably not doing it in purpose," she reasoned. "I've seen this look before. Think they fell down some stairs."

Handing the empty cup back, Gally lowered his head and nodded, "Note to self; don't fucking do that."

Minho opened his mouth to speak, but the smug look on his face dropped when he suddenly gripped his left wrist. "Ah, what the...?" His words died in his mouth as his eyes widened in horror, the three of them watching a thin red mark slowly etch its way across the inside of his wrist.

"Oh..." Teresa said softly.

"Do something, man!" Gally blurted out as he shot upright, eyes startled.

"I... What...?" Panic rising in his face as another mark began, Minho did the first thing he could think of; yanked his arm towards his mouth and dug his teeth into the meat of his forearm. He clamped down and waited, flicking a clueless and bewildered look up at Gally.

Glancing to Teresa, Gally asked, "What the hell are we s'posed to do?"

"That was the right thing," Teresa assured them both patiently, moving to check Minho's wrist. "It's stopped."

Minho slowly relaxed his jaw, withdrawing his arm from his mouth. He eyed the surprisingly deep bite mark, then blew out a shaky breath.

"I'll clean that up," Teresa murmured, moving around the space before setting about wiping down Minho's wound with antiseptic. "Least you didn't break the skin. You really shouldn't use your teeth; bites get easily infected. I know it was spur of the moment," she added quickly when Minho made to snap. "I know. Just... Maybe not your mouth, next time."

Minho's shoulders sagged and he dropped his gaze. "Don't say 'next time'."

Before any of them could forget why they were there in the first place, Gally grunted, a hand clutching his temple. "Fuck's sake."

Shaking her head, Teresa finished cleaning Minho's bite and wrapped it in gauze. "Think you guys should hang out here for a bit," she suggested quietly, patting the end of the bed for Minho to sit.

Nodding once, Minho muttered, "Yeah."

Gally watched Minho slump down on the bus seat beside him, thumbing at one of his new bruises. As the bus rolled away from the curb, he mumbled, "Y'okay?"

A half-hearted snort. "Fucking peachy."

It was a stupid question. He knew it was a stupid question. But there was something sitting in Gally's gut that insisted he say something, and that was all he could think of. "Sorry."

Minho shook his head. "You're limping. I'm fine." He didn't lift his head, and he hadn't looked at Gally once since the nurse's office. His fingers traced over the two red marks on the inside of his wrist, his bite mark wrapped in gauze.

Gally wanted to say something supportive, he really, truely did. But what could he say?

'It might not be what it seems'?

'We don't know that wasn't an accident'?

'Maybe they just needed...'

Needed what? To feel something? They certainly felt the effects of Minho's teeth.

Before Gally could think of anything, someone beat him to it.

"Didn't think you were that depressed," snickered a voice from the seat behind, a face pushing forward between them. "Or maybe your soulmate knows how much you suck and can't live with themselves."

"Wow, super creative, Ben," Gally scoffed, pressing his palm to Ben's forehead and shoving him back.

"You wanna go?" Ben flicked the back of Gally's head.

A low growl started somewhere in Gally's chest, hands forming fists, but he was cut off by Minho's hand on his shoulder. "Don't, Gal," Minho almost begged, voice full of exhaustion. "We'll get kicked off again."

Gally pressed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. The counsellor at school had told him to breathe when he was angry, to put the feelings away, but it was hard when people like Ben sought him out for his short temper. "'Kay," he grit out from between his teeth, turning his scowl out the window.

But Ben was having too much fun. "C'mon, Gally." He prodded Gally hard in the back of the shoulder. "No fun lighting the fuse if there's no fireworks!"

"No point lighting fireworks in daylight," Gally muttered back, half-hoping he hadn't heard.

Ben's prodding continued, until suddenly his fingers found a bruise and Gally yelped involuntarily. "Christ, your soulmate's a klutz," Ben jeered, jamming his fingers into the same spot and making Gally jerk forward in his seat. "Or maybe they're getting some practice in. Everyone knows you'll hit anyone that gets on your nerves. The second you guys have your first fight, you'll beat them to a pulp."

A sick feeling reared in Gally's stomach. The thought had occurred to him before. That with all his anger, he could hurt someone that matters. That one day, swinging his fist at someone would give him bruises on more than just his knuckles. Swallowing hard, Gally turned a blazing glare to Ben and growled, "You even got a soulmate? Only bruises I ever see you with are ones I gave you."

With a sick smirk, Ben tapped his shoulder. "Broke their arm when I was nine. Unlike some, they learned from it."

"So, you had a soulmate eight years ago," Gally shrugged disinterestedly. "Least I know mine's still around."

A darkness flared in Ben's eyes, which Gally turned his back on. He shouldn't have. He felt every ridge of Ben's fist as it slammed into the back of his head, his vision swirling wildly.

"Right, enough!" the bus driver barked, pulling over. "Ben Franks, get off my bus!"

Ben raised his hands innocently, but obediently stepped into the aisle. He shot Gally a satisfied smirk, then jogged towards the door.

"Fuck..." Gally muttered, clutching the back of his head as the bus started moving again.

"You good?" Minho checked, finally looking up at Gally and turning his friend's head to inspect the damage.

"M'fine," Gally grumbled. He hissed when Minho pressed against what was no doubt another bruise to add to the list for the day. His deep breaths kept him calm for the rest of the trip, but if he split his knuckles open on a tree during his short walk the rest of the way home, he didn't tell anyone.

It was just two days later that he saw the bite mark. Passing a student he'd never seen before in an almost empty hallway, Gally did a full double take, his eyes fixed on her forearm. She had a myriad of bands and leather straps wrapped around her wrists, but the bite was clear as day. "Hey!" He grabbed her arm before he could stop himself.

The girl jumped and yanked her arm away, sending Gally a glare equal parts angry and terrified. "Don't touch me," she spat.

"Sorry, sorry!" Gally raised his hands in surrender. He saw what happened to Minho's arm. He knew what was hiding under those wristbands. He should have been more careful. "Sorry, I just-"

"You fucking touch me again and I'll break your face," the girl snapped, chin jutted out determinedly at she eyeballed Gally above her.

Gally let his eyebrows jump doubtfully. He was, by far, the tallest and strongest student at the school, and this girl was barely 5'4". "Sorry," he repeated carefully. "I didn't mean to..." His eyes fell to her arm. "That's one hell of a bite."

She scoffed and folded her arms, hiding the mark. "Guess my soulmate got hungry," she shrugged.

"Yeah..."

She assumed they had done it to themself. She knew they had, Gally reasoned. And she knew why.

"I'm Gally," he explained, holding a hand out for her to shake.

Her eyes clearly scanned the exposed skin of his arms, noting the rainbow of bruises. Seeming to decide something, she threw him a distasteful look and replied, "That's nice," before turning on her heel.

"No, wait!" Gally protested.

"Gal!" Minho called out from the other end of the the hallway, jogging towards him. "C'mon, man, we'll be late."

"No, shut up a minute," Gally rushed out. "Wait!" he insisted of the girl, who huffed and spun back around to glare at him. "Just... Just hold up a sec."

"Whataya want, Colossus?" she huffed.

Gally gestured to his side. "This's my friend, Minho."

She rolled her eyes. "So?"

Minho gave Gally a confused frown, but lifted his left hand in a polite wave.

The girl's eyes widened and her face went pale. "You..." She slowly walked back over, her eyes on Minho's arm. "That's..." Glancing down, she turned her own arm over to reveal the pattern of Minho's teeth bruised into her skin.

"Oh, shit..." Minho breathed out.

"You..." She suddenly pulled down the rolled sleeves of her loose buttoned shirt over her arms. "You're walking around with... You don't have them covered, you're..." Shaking her head, she took a panicked step back. "People have seen them." Throwing a hand over her mouth, she turned and ran.

Minho's face fell. "No, wait!" He made to chase after her, but Gally grabbed his sleeve. "Hey, what're you-?!"

"Minho," Gally said seriously, voice low. "Her cuts."

Eyes dropping to his wrist, Minho let his fingers trace the marks again. "What about them?"

"Everyone knows." Gally prayed he wouldn't have to spell it out. "Even Ben said it."

"Yeah, but Ben's an asshole," Minho huffed. But Gally's words slowly sank in, and Minho's whole body slumped. "Shit, Gally..." The sleeves of his hoodie had been pushed up to his elbows, but he tugged them both down. "Prob'ly too late, but..." His eyes lifted to gaze mournfully in the direction the girl had disappeared.

Gally squeezed Minho's shoulder. "C'mon, man. We're late."

"Yeah..." Minho let Gally lead him towards their English class, of which they had missed nearly ten minutes by the time they sat down with ducked heads and mumbled apologies.

A ball of paper hit the back of Gally's head, which he resolutely ignored, taking two deep breaths and forcing himself to relax his tense shoulders.

"I don't even know her name," Minho whispered.

Glancing to his friend, who was staring forlornly down at his desk, Gally nudged him with his elbow. "It'll be okay," he assured him quietly.

Minho just shook his head. The barest vestiges of a sad smile tweaked his lips. "She called you Colossus. He's an X-Man."

Memories came to the front of Gally's mind, of Minho hiding his comic books from bullies in middle school. Minho doing everything he could to keep people from picking on him for liking 'nerd shit'. Gally had stepped in to stop it after his insane growth spurt one summer, and they'd been friends since. "Guess they're called soulmates for a reason," he hummed, nudging Minho again with a small smirk.

The look in Minho's eyes made Gally's chest ache; pain mixed with a deep sense of adoration and hope. "Guess so."

A week later, Gally and Minho had learned that the girl's name was Brenda. She had given them a wide berth, darting in the opposite direction whenever she saw either of them.

Minho had kept his sleeves down, although he thumbed at his wrist whenever he thought. It was becoming a habit, Gally had noticed. As they sat at lunch, he watched his friend with his newly developed pattern as they sat across from each other, startling when someone sat down beside Minho.

"Min," Gally hissed, trying his best to be gentle when he kicked Minho under the table to get his attention.

Minho's head shot up, then his eyes went wide at the person beside him. "Brenda... Hi..."

Shifting in her seat a little, Brenda made a point of rolling up her sleeves. "You, uh... You did a good job with that bite," she half-laughed, quickly rubbing her hand over where the mark had been, but seemed finally to have faded. After a quiet moment, she whispered, "Thank you."

Gally wondered what exactly she was thanking him for; the bite, or covering her cuts. Either way, he decided to keep his eyes down and allow them their moment.

"I don't really know what I was thinking..." Brenda continued quietly, Minho bowing his head slightly to listen. "I think... I think I assumed I was alone. I wasn't trying to get your attention, I was just..."

Nodding once, Minho assured her, "You don't have to explain it." He sent her a small smile, and received a mirroring one in return.

Just as Gally was thinking he might leave them alone, he hissed as a cracking pain shot through his left cheekbone. "Fuck..."

"Gal?" Minho checked.

"S'fine," Gally huffed, rubbing at the new sore-spot gingerly.

"Are they you or your other half?" Brenda asked, nodding to the rest of Gally's fading bruises.

Sighing, he answered, "They're not me. Well... Most of them aren't." His eyes flicked to the knuckles of his right hand.

"Ol' klutz is back at it, then?" came a sneering voice approaching them.

"Ben," Minho muttered.

Gally turned irritated eyes up to the boy now standing beside their table. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

Smirking, Ben leaned his hands on the table top. "Nah. Watching someone beat you up long-distance is way too much fun."

"Fuck you," Gally muttered, dropping his hand from his cheek. His eyes caught something on Ben's collarbone, only revealed by the way he was leaning over.

"'Fuck you'," Ben mimicked with a snort. "Good job, good comeback." He looked to Minho and Brenda. "Ooooooooh, so is this the one who cut herself when she realised you were her soulmate?" he grinned, a mean glint in his eyes.

Brenda visibly shrank, but Minho glared daggers back at Ben. "No, they're mine," he snapped, tugging his sleeve further down as if to illustrate the point. "Not that it's any of your business."

Glee filled Ben's face. "So you are that much of a depressed loser. Knew it."

"Gally's right," Minho growled, folding his arms and turning away. "Fuck off."

Ben threw his head back with a thrilled laugh. "Aw, poor little nerd cuts himself!"

Doing everything he could to tamp down on his anger, Gally gripped his hands in fists and asked, "You found your soulmate, Ben?"

Ben tilted his head with a baffled scoff. "No. You fuckers'll all know when I do, trust me."

An evil little thrill ran through Gally's belly. "Looks like they weren't waiting for you," he smirked, pointing to what was obviously a hickey on Ben's collarbone.

"What?" Ben pulled his head back to look down, his eyes widening when he saw what Gally had. "I..."

"Oh, you hadn't noticed?" Gally snickered, propping his elbow on the table and his chin on his hand. "Looks like someone's having a pretty great time without you."

Ben's mouth moved silently as the implications of a hickey he had nothing to do with sank in. "You..." He flicked his eyes up to Gally and practically snarled.

"Hey, man," Gally half-laughed, raising his free hand innocently. "Wasn't me."

Slamming a hand down on the table, Ben turned his rage to Minho. "Next time you try to kill yourself, finish the job," he spat, then turned to march away.

But Gally was immediately out of his chair and grabbing Ben by the shirt. "The fuck did you just say?!"

Ben tried to puff out his chest, but withered slightly at the intensity of Gally's eyes boring down into his soul. "Still gonna protect your boyfriend now he's found his soulmate?" he sneered.

The next thing Gally knew, he was being pulled back by Minho and a teacher, and his right hand throbbed.

Gally understood completely when Minho didn't join him on the bus that afternoon. He did catch sight of him and Brenda as the bus pulled away, and Minho's dazed smile when he was allowed to wrap her in a tentative hug. A warmth filled Gally's chest, watching them for as long as he could before the bus turned a corner.

He was happy for them. He really was. Minho hadn't looked so soft towards another person in his life, and Gally was so glad that Brenda was alright, after what they'd experienced in Teresa's office the week before. But he couldn't help the niggle in his stomach when he though about how immediately relaxed they were around each other. It was sweet, the way they looked at each other as they realised their forever, but Gally...

Well, now Gally was coming to his own realisation. It had crept in at the back of his mind while the counsellor was politely berating him for his lack of self-control. Something that Ben had said.

Beating someone up long-distance.

That's what he was doing. Every time he punched someone, or something, and messed up his hands, he was hurting someone else. The same someone whose bruises he wore every day. Someone whose injuries had been decorating his skin since he was small. When he lost his temper, that person he had been connected to for as long as he could remember was also getting hurt. And it wasn't as though that person needed anymore bruises. Theirs were clearly not self-inflicted.

But Gally's hands were his own fault. He did that. With every punch he loosed, his anger painted his hands and cracked his bones... and his soulmate's. There was someone out there who seemed to collect injuries for a living, and Gally was making it worse.

And then he considered everyone else attached to one of his fights. Ben's soulmate, whoever and wherever they were, didn't deserve the agony of a broken nose and cheekbone, or any of the horrific bruising that undoubtedly went with them. All Gally knew about them was that they found someone to give them a hickey, and that someone wasn't Ben. That didn't mean they should have to wear the results of Ben's words, or Gally's inability to control his temper.

As soon as he stepped through the front door of his home, he was brought face to face with his mother, her hands on her hips and an eyebrow raised. "Hi," he mumbled.

A tapped foot. "Gally."

"I know," Gally groaned, slumping against the closed door and covering his face with his hands. "I know, I'm sorry."

A curt sigh. "Come here."

Gally pushed off the door and shuffled over to his mother, whose careful hands checked over his skin. "I tried," he whispered.

Reaching up to brush her thumb over Gally's bruised cheekbone, his mother asked, "Whose?"

"Theirs."

Cool fingers scanned over the rest of his exposed skin, finally landing at his right hand. His mother lifted his hand and brushed her fingertips across his battered, bandaged knuckles. Her eyes simply flicked up in question.

"Mine," he admitted softly.

She breathed a long sigh, then grabbed his elbow and led him through to the kitchen and sat him down at the table. "The school called," she told him, returning to the groceries she had been putting away before Gally arrived.

"Figured," Gally nodded, eyes on his hands as he fidgeted with the wrapping around his knuckles.

"The nurse must be sick of the sight of you."

Gally snorted. "Probably."

Folding her arms and leaning them against the back of one of the kitchen chairs, his mother asked, "Why did you hit him?"

A pained look crossed Gally's face. "Minho."

His mother huffed. "Am I going to get more than one-word answers out of you?"

Rubbing his sore cheek, Gally explained, "Ben was being an asshole, then basically told Minho to kill himself." Flexing his bandaged hand to keep himself from getting angry again, he mumbled, "I didn't mean to."

An unexpected silence filled the room, then Gally heard an irritated noise come from his mother's throat. "You should have hit him harder."

Gally's eyes went wide. "Mom!"

"Unacceptable," she muttered, dropping herself down in the chair. With another sigh, she amended, "You shouldn't have hit him at all. However, I'll forgive that one." She looked over the colours painting her son's skin.

Gally knew she was used to this. She remembered the bruises from earlier than Gally could, she knew what to expect. Although, even she had been surprised by the array he had come home with after his soulmate had taken what Teresa had been calling 'the quick way down the stairs'.

"I can see you're trying," she said eventually, tapping her fingers against the tabletop. "You're trying, and that's all I can ask." Reaching over to take one of Gally's hands, his mother asked, "What's happened? Something's changed, I can see it."

Of course she could. She had always been able to read Gally like a book. "It's Min. He's found his soulmate." He snorted softly. "Well, I found his soulmate. Her name's Brenda, and apparently she knows a bit about X-Men, so..."

His mother finally cracked a smile. "Good for Minho." She quirked an eyebrow. "But now there's someone else for him to spend his time with?" she guessed.

"S'not that," Gally mumbled, shaking his head. "Although, now you've said it..." He sighed and rubbed his cheek again. "Nah, it's just... I dunno. Feels weird. Like I'm..." Swallowing hard, Gally knew his cheeks were warming, but if he could tell anyone, it was his mother. "Like I'm missing out."

With a sad, knowing smile, his mother assured him, "At least you know they're out there."

Gally couldn't help but laugh, looking over the mottled greens and purples of his arms. "Not for long, at this rate."

She squeezed his hand. "It could take time. Minho's lucky to find her so young. But you'll get there, okay?"

With a single nod, Gally cleared his throat and pushed his fears down. If anyone knew him best, it was his mother, and if she said it would work out, then it would. "Okay."

Once Gally discovered woodworking, everything changed. He had never been interested in Woodshop at school, but six months after graduating, his therapist suggested a hobbyist class. As soon as he saw what his hands were capable of, Gally fell in love. Apart from redirecting all of his aggression into focus, it served as a fantastic distraction from Minho and Brenda having moved away for university.

Now, though, sitting on the train to visit his friends with a bag of finished projects to show them at his feet, Gally wondered how he managed without them for so long. He could feel the pull in his chest as the train came to a stop at the station, like a piece of him had been missing, but was finally returning home. Grabbing his backpack and the bag of his work, he hurried off to find a taxi.

It wasn't long before he was walking up the front path of the address Minho had given him. A single press of the doorbell, and the door was almost immediately flung open to reveal Brenda's beaming face. "Gally!" she cheered, reaching up to give him a hug.

"Hi," Gally hummed, feeling one of those missing pieces click back into place. Sometimes he thought about that first meeting in the hallway, the look Brenda had given him, and wondered why she hadn't just swung her fist at him. He knew her well enough by now to know that wasn't out of character. He was glad she hadn't.

"Min!" Brenda called out as she ushered Gally into the house and took his backpack. "He's here!"

Gally kicked his shoes off by the door, trying to keep them slightly separated from the dozen pairs already there. "How many housemates did you say you have?" he chuckled.

"Five," Brenda smirked. "Minho!"

"I'm here, I'm here!" Minho came racing down the stairs and almost knocked Gally flat with a firm hug. "Hey, man."

"Hey," Gally laughed. And there it was. The other piece returned. It was the lightest Gally had felt in a long time, outside of the woodworking studio.

Giving Gally one more squeeze, Minho pulled back to look at him. "Dude, your shoulders are huge."

"Nah, you're just tiny," Gally snickered, shoving Minho's shoulder and earning a smack on the arm. "Missed you, though."

Minho's face split into a wide grin. "Think therapy's been good for you."

Snorting, Gally agreed, "Think it has."

"C'mon, c'mon." Brenda pulled them both into the living room, pushing aside some empty pizza boxes to make room for the three of them on one of the sofas. "Tell me about this woodworking."

And Gally couldn't help himself. Before he knew it, he had been talking for fifteen minutes about his new passion, but Minho and Brenda were listening and engaging and encouraging and he just couldn't stop. By the time he did, he noticed two housemates curiously shuffling around the doorway.

"I wish you were out here, Gal," Minho sighed, ignoring the newcomers. "Think it'd be good for you to spread your wings a bit."

Gally snorted, leaning his head back against the sofa and staring at the ceiling. "You know this whole thing isn't me," he dismissed, waving a hand around the room. "Housemates and shit. More fucking school." He shook his head slowly. "You know school was bad enough for me before."

With a shrug, Minho pointed out, "You would've liked it better without Ben around. Also if you weren't black and blue all the time," he chuckled, poking at a bruise on Gally's upper arm. "Still clumsy?"

"Not as much as they used to be," Gally hummed, eyeing the bruise. "Still pretty bad, though." Almost as if to prove something, pain shot through Gally's elbow, making him jerk in surprise. "Fucking... Really?"

Minho bit his lip to keep from laughing. "Sorry, man," he chuckled, watching a dark bruise spread around Gally's joint.

"You had to ask, didn't you?" Gally half-laughed, wincing a little as he stretched his arm.

"I guess you still haven't met them yet?" Brenda asked knowingly, a sympathetic smile on her lips.

Shaking his head, Gally moved his eyes back to the ceiling. "You'll know when I do," he said softly.

It had been eating him up, recently. He knew he didn't leave the house much, so his chances of meeting anyone new were almost zero, but he couldn't bring himself to try. Every time he though about it, a weight landed heavy in his chest and held his limbs down. He wasn't sure if it was connected to the medication his therapist had him taking, or if it was knowing that putting himself in an unfamiliar situation could send his fists flying. Either way, coming out to see Minho and Brenda was the most adventurous thing he had done since high school, besides his woodworking.

"Alby, Newt, you can stop hovering," Minho huffed light-heartedly, turning his eyes to the two housemates in the doorway.

One of them, a tall blond, ducked into the room and took a seat on another sofa. "Just checking, mate," came an unexpectedly English accent. "You talked about this guy like he could get angry."

Gally's heart sank a little. Was that who he was? The friend with anger issues? Instinctively, he rubbed a his fingers over the knuckles of his right hand; smooth and unscathed, as they had been for the past four months now. He had been proud of that. Now that pride felt misplaced.

"Not without reason," Minho clarified, gently prodding Gally with his elbow. "Gal?" he checked quietly.

Gally slumped forward, gazing down at his hands. "M'fine," he mumbled with a half-hearted shrug. He knew Minho knew he was lying.

"Not off to a great start," spoke up the other stranger, plopping himself down beside the blond and shooting him a stern look. "Sorry, man. I'm Alby, and bigmouth here is Newt."

"This's Alby's place," Minho told Gally.

Gally tore his eyes away from his hands to look up at Alby. "Good to meet you," he nodded, taking a deep breath to pull himself together. "Minho's told me about you guys."

"He's told us a bit about you, too." Bracing his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together, Alby asked, "You still live at home, yeah?" With another nod from Gally, he shrugged, "You wanna move out here?"

Gally just blinked at him. "What?"

"Got a spare room going upstairs," Alby explained, watching Gally calmly. "I don't charge rent. Could be good to get out of the town you grew up in."

His therapist had said that. Getting away from all the memories of aggression and the people who used to wind him up. The last time he had broken his streak of not punching anything was bumping into Ben, who didn't seem to have matured at all and had Gally hurling his fist into a wall half an hour later. And it wasn't like he didn't already travel for his therapy sessions...

"You don't have to answer now," Alby assured him, clearly able to see Gally's thoughts processing on his face. "But think about it. Also, my dad was a carpenter; I've got all his tools and stuff in the garage still, so you wouldn't be walking away from the thing you clearly love doing."

Something in Gally's chest jumped. "Right..." He dragged his thumb across his knuckles. "Yeah, I'll... I'll think about it." His eyes darted to Minho, who looked so excited Gally wondered if he might explode.

"It'd be good to have you here," Brenda grinned, pressing into Minho's chest as she leaned around him to look at Gally. "We miss you."

Another jump in his chest. "I wanna talk to Mom about it first... Don't wanna just leave her on her own." Just the idea of it brewed a sick feeling in Gally's gut.

Shaking his head, Minho chuckled, "You know she'd support you no matter what."

"Yeah, I know..." The feeling of an opportunity opening in front of him made Gally's chest tighten and his head spin. He had himself under control now, but what would moving do to that? Would he lose all that progress? Was just being here at all proof he wouldn't?

"Gal, stop thinking so hard." Knocking their shoulders together, Minho gave him a small smirk. "Weird to see you weighing you options and not just acting."

Gally snorted and returned the gesture. "Fuck off, man," he retorted, no malice behind his words. He hissed again as a stark red line slashed itself across his left palm. "Dammit... Someone take the sharp things away," he huffed, a perplexed stare aimed at the mark.

"Whoever that is has gotta be covered in scars," Brenda commented, reaching for Gally's hand to inspect the evidence of his soulmate's new wound. "Christ."

"Good thing we don't get each other's scars, huh?" Alby hummed, watching Gally closely.

Rubbing a hand down his face, Gally muttered, "Yeah, this one had surgery last year."

Everyone cringed at that. "Been there," Newt sighed, glancing to Alby beside him. "Alby needed emergency surgery for his heart the year before we met. That was agony."

Gally passed his thumb over his knuckles again as silence settled over the room. While it didn't surprise him, knowing that Newt and Alby had found each other, too, tugged at something in his gut. He shook his head, then leaned forward to dig into the bag sitting between his feet. "Made you guys some things," he told Minho, retrieving two wooden panels and handing them to his friends.

The way Minho's whole face lit up brought Gally a joy he hadn't had since he was a child. "Man, that's so cool!" Minho exclaimed, carefully tracing his fingers over the smooth, intricate carving in the surface of the panel. "I didn't think you knew what Gambit looked like."

"I didn't. I Googled him," Gally chuckled, pride swelling in his chest at the awe of Minho's face. "I knew he was your favourite, though."

"And that Jubilee is mine," Brenda added, her eyes glued to her panel. "Gally, these are amazing."

Ducking his head to hide his smile, Gally murmured, "I'm glad you like them."

Minho threw his head back in a laugh. "You said you were building tables and chairs, not carving actual artwork. Man, I wish our Shop teacher hadn't sucked so much; you would've been king of that class."

"Maybe," Gally shrugged, gaze back on his hands. "Pretty sure Ben took Shop, though."

With a disapproving noise, Minho amended, "Maybe not, then. Heavy machinery and tools around... Probably would've wound up a murderer."

Although he didn't want to admit it, Gally was pretty sure he was right.

It had taken six weeks. Six weeks, and Minho trying his best not to beg, but now Gally was putting down the last of his few boxes of belongings in the spare room of Alby's house. He looked around himself at the blank walls and double bed shoved in the corner by the window, wondering exactly how he had got here. His therapist had been thrilled when he told her in week three that he had decided to go; she had even helped arrange for a friend of hers to drive him and his things so he wouldn't have to worry about the train. There was a small part of him that wondered if she was trying to get rid of him, but he knew that he would still be travelling to her for their sessions.

"They'll be back around four."

Gally nearly jumped out of his skin at the voice behind him.

"Sorry, man," Alby chuckled from where he was leaning against the doorframe. "Didn't mean to sneak up."

"Nah, man," Gally dismissed, shaking his head. "Was miles away. Who'll be back?"

"The students," Alby clarified, folding his arms casually.

"Right." Gally had somehow forgotten that Minho had been so apologetic that he wouldn't be able to help him move in because he had classes. "There many students here?"

Alby nodded. "Most of them. Minho, Brenda, Newt, Harriet, and Sonya. And Sonya's soulmate, Aris, who doesn't officially live here, but he's around most days." With a shrug, he added, "You, me, and Thomas are the only ones who'll be around during the day, and me and Thomas work, so..." Another shrug. "What do you normally do with your days?"

Rubbing the back of his head, Gally admitted, "Just make stuff, really."

A smile spreading across his face, Alby snapped his fingers. "That's right, I've gotta show you the garage."

"It's..." Gally bit his lip. Minho had given him the rundown of what happened to Alby's parents, and why he owned a six bedroom house with no mortgage in such a nice area of town. "It's definitely okay for me to use your dad's stuff?" he asked carefully.

With a rueful smile, Alby assured him, "He'd be glad to know it's being put to good use." He tilted his head slightly. "You lost a parent, too, yeah?"

"Uh... yeah, my dad," Gally nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets and averting his eyes.

"Then you know it's good to remember what you have, not what you lost."

A short laugh pushed itself from Gally's chest. "My therapist tells me that a lot."

Alby's face pulled up in a smirk. "Mine too." After an understanding silence that settled comfortably in Gally's chest, Alby told him, "Minho said you like your space. If you wanna be left alone, just keep the door shut. Also, no one else uses the garage, so you'll have the space to yourself when you're in there, too."

Gally nodded. "Thanks Alby."

Just as he was about to head away, Alby backtracked a few steps. "Oh, and definitely use the shower when the students are out. There's two bathrooms, but somehow there's always someone in them when the kids are home."

"Right," Gally chuckled.

"And the kitchen's just..." Alby sighed, sending Gally a tired smile. "The kitchen's a free-for-all. Sorry." With that, he disappeared down the hall. Gally heard one last, "Come find me when you wanna see the garage!" before he found himself alone.

"Okay..." he breathed out, looking over the boxes of his things. "Now's as good a time as any."

Gally had found himself a rhythm within the house faster than he had expected. He would hang out with Minho and Brenda when they were home from classes, and the rest of his time he spent working in the garage. Alby was right; no one else had a reason to be in there, so he could throw himself into his projects for hours on end without even realising. Occasionally, Minho or Brenda would stick their head through the door to tell him to eat, and Newt had appeared once out of pure curiosity, but for the most part, he had the perfect place to just make and exist.

It was also a great place to be anytime before midnight. Once or twice, Gally had tried to go to sleep at around eleven, but even the sturdy walls between the rooms couldn't fully disguise the sound of soulmates at night. Gally wasn't stupid; he was nineteen and definitely understood what went on in the rooms around him, but he really didn't want to hear it. So, most nights he made it back to his room at about one in the morning.

Because of this, Gally hadn't met all of his housemates until almost two months in, when Alby had called everyone together for a house dinner. He had set an alarm on his phone specifically so that he knew when to leave the garage to clean up for dinner, and the moment he stepped back into the house, he was unerringly glad he had the routine he did.

There were people everywhere. Gally halfway wondered if Alby was throwing a full-blown party and hadn't told him. As he headed for the stairs, he spotted Brenda and Minho in the living room with Aris, who he had met briefly late one evening as he was leaving, and a blonde girl he assumed must be Sonya. He could hear Alby and Newt in the kitchen, along with a voice he didn't recognise, and he had to stop to let two girls past who he had never seen before. Before he could start to head upstairs, he heard a thundering of feet, then a yelp, and before he could register what was happening, a body landed against his chest.

"Whoa!" Gally planted his feet to keep from falling, grabbing the arms of whoever had nearly knocked him flat to keep them upright. "What the fuck?"

A pair of big brown eyes blinked up at him. "Shit. Thanks."

Gally carefully pushed back the dark-haired boy looking up at him so he was standing on the steps. "Careful, man," he muttered. "Falling down stairs hurts."

"Yeah..." The boy rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Yeah, I know." He scooted past Gally and into the living room.

Shaking his head, Gally jogged up the stairs to change. It wasn't long before he was heading back down to the crowd now gathered in the living room, running a nervous hand through his hair.

"Gal, c'mere," Minho beamed, waving him over and pulling him unceremoniously onto the sofa beside him so Gally was halfway in his lap. "You smell like pine."

Gally shifted uncomfortably, then shoved Minho over enough to squeeze himself onto the sofa cushion. "I was working with pine."

"Oh, this is the guy in the garage!" Sonya realised, giving Gally a wave that reminded him of a grinning toddler.

"Yeah..." Gally cleared his throat, dropping his gaze as the attention of the room turned to him. "Hi."

"Never lived with someone this long without seeing them before," commented one of the girls that had passed Gally in the hallway. "I'm Harriet."

Right. "Gally," he replied, fiddling with his hands.

"Yeah, we've heard of Gally," Harriet laughed as the other girl she was with slung her legs over her lap. "I've heard you working, too. When do you sleep?"

Gally bit his tongue to hold back his answer of, 'When everyone's stopped fucking.'

"Leave him alone, Harriet," Alby dismissed from the kitchen doorway. "C'mon, everyone. Dinner."

As he was unsurprised to learn, there weren't enough chairs in the huge kitchen/dining space for everyone, so Gally had ducked into the garage to grab a few he had made to make up the difference. That was how he found himself sandwiched between Minho and Newt at the too-small table, with everyone asking him questions about his woodworking. His face burned and hands clenched, keeping his eyes on the table as the crowd tried to speak to him.

"Guys, piss off," Minho piped up, leaning against Gally just a little bit more to show he was on his side. "Leave him alone."

"He's always alone," Harriet pointed out, waving her fork dramatically.

"He's not." Alby met her eyes sternly across the table. "Back off."

Gally let the conversation move on without him, only half listening as he wondered how long it would be before he could excuse himself back to the peace of the garage. He glanced to Minho when he poked him with his elbow.

"Y'okay?" Minho checked quietly, doing his best not to draw attention.

"Yeah," Gally mumbled, picking at his food. Alby had said something about his friend Frypan having cooked it, and Gally hadn't wanted to ask questions like, 'What the hell kind of name is Frypan?'

"I know this isn't your thing," Minho continued, voice low. "You don't have to hang round after dinner."

Gally huffed a short laugh through his nose. "Don't worry, I won't."

The rest of dinner went fairly smoothly, until Frypan asked, "How often you do this, Alby?"

With a shrug, Alby replied, "When I think it's time. We don't have a schedule."

"Just housemates normally?"

"Yeah, but it's growing," Alby smirked, gesturing to the crowd. "You don't live here, Fry."

"No, I know," Frypan snickered. "Nah, was just thinking I've got a friend who'd love this sort of thing. Moved out here a few months ago and he's not made many friends."

"He a student?" Alby asked, glancing around at the table full of university attendees. "Would anyone else know him?"

Nodding, Frypan explained, "Joined mid-semester. Not great with people, but he's trying. Name's Ben Franks."

"No," came the immediate reply from both Brenda and Minho, who looked nervously to Gally.

The table fell silent, Gally gripping his hands in tight fists and taking a slow, deep breath. He could feel the rage in his chest building. Of course it was Ben. Of course it was. If anything was going to throw him off his game it would be Ben fucking Franks.

"You guys know him?" Frypan asked innocently, confusion filling his face.

"Unfortunately," Minho muttered, his right thumb finding the inside of his left wrist.

Gally took another deep breath, closing his eyes and running through all the things his therapist had taught him.

Setting down her fork, Brenda explained patiently, "We went to high school with him, Fry."

"Oh..." Folding his arms and leaning over the table, Frypan smirked, "So you'd know the guy he's told me about?" At Brenda's questioning look, he elaborated, "Y'know, the guy he used to fight with? Told me about this brute with the shortest fuse on the planet."

"Yeah, I'll bet he fucking did," Gally snapped, shoving himself away from the table and storming back to the garage. He slammed the door shut behind him, dragging his hands through his hair, his heart pounding in his chest.

That really was all he was. The guy with the short fuse. The guy with anger issues. The brute.

And now everyone had seen it. He might not have yelled or thrown hands, but they saw him snap. They watched him chuck a temper tantrum and storm off like a child. And Frypan could tell them everything Ben had said about him. All the fights they had, all the blood and scrapes and bruises. The broken bones. The times they were kicked off the bus, or kept in detention, or had their parents called to the office because Gally couldn't keep his head.

He thought he'd left it behind. That was part of moving away; leaving all that rage and aggression in the town it was attached to. But he hadn't, and now it was boiling in his blood and tensing his muscles and-

"Aaagh!" The second his fist hit the brick wall of the garage, Gally hated himself. Pain exploded across his hand, through stressed bones and split skin, and he slumped onto the floor, his back against the wall and head in his hands as he sobbed and broke down in tears.

That was it, wasn't it? The only way he could deal with his anger was violence. And he'd done so well, he was doing so well. Nearly six months, and now...

Now he had blood-covered knuckles and that sick guilt in his chest that he had let them down. His mother, his therapist... and his soulmate. He'd hurt them again. Six months of nothing, and now they had bruised knuckles and the marks of Gally's cuts and it wasn't fair.

Gally's hands gripped his hair, ignoring the pain shooting through his new wound as his broken sobs fell into his chest. This was what he got for breaking routine. For stepping out to do something different. For trying to socialise like his therapist told him he should.

Maybe he should have stayed with his mother.

The door softly clicked open and closed, the quiet sound of someone moving barely audible over Gally crying into his knees. He could feel a presence beside him, a subtle warmth, and turned his head away.

"Hey."

Gally curled further in on himself, slowing his breathing to control his tears. That voice wasn't Minho or Brenda, so he didn't want to hear it.

"Gally?" A tentative hand touched his arm, but he flinched away. "Hey, can you look at me for a sec?"

Shaking his head, Gally hiccuped, "The hell are you?"

A moment's pause. "I'm Thomas. We've been housemates for, like, two months. You caught me on the stairs before."

Gally sniffled, but didn't move. "What do you want?" he mumbled.

"Just... Can you look at me, please?" Thomas' voice was small, careful, as though Gally might startle like a deer.

Blowing out a long, slow breath, Gally wiped his tears and lifted his head, looking to Thomas, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, facing his side. "What?"

Wordlessly, Thomas laid his right hand on Gally's knee. His knuckles were painted black and purple, with angry red marks cutting through them.

Gally's gaze darted back and forth between Thomas' hand and his own, each tiny detail lining up perfectly. "No..." he whispered, eyes filling with tears again. "No, no, no, no, no..." He carefully scooped up Thomas' hand, cradling it gently between his own. Thomas' hands were thinner than his, boney with long, slender fingers, and the sight of his own aggression splattered across more delicate hands than his broke Gally's heart. "Oh god... No, no, I'm so sorry..." Another sob tore from his chest. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, Thomas..."

Thomas' free hand gingerly settled in Gally's hair. "It's okay," Thomas assured him quietly, his thumb rubbing small circles against Gally's scalp when he sobbed again. "I'm..." Blowing out a slight laugh, Thomas admitted, "I'm actually relieved. I always had this constant reminder that there was someone out there waiting for me. I got to see it every time I looked down. But then it stopped... I was getting really worried that you were gone."

Slowly bringing Thomas' hand closer, Gally pressed a shaky kiss to his discoloured fingers. "I'm sorry," he whispered into his skin.

"Don't be." After a moment of quiet, Thomas murmured, "It's a good thing you caught me before. This is way better than falling down the stairs."

Gally sobbed a laugh, pressing his forehead to the back of Thomas' palm. "That sucked."

"Yeah, I know," Thomas chuckled. His fingers carefully moving through Gally's hair, he asked, "Where were you when I did that?"

"History class," Gally huffed, slowly feeling the tension in his body loosen. He would have lifted his head, but he was enjoying the feeling of Thomas' fingers on his scalp too much and feared he might stop if he moved. "What happened?"

Thomas sighed, and Gally had the feeling he'd had to explain himself quite a few times by now. "I was in Biology. We were dissecting things... Can't remember what, I just know I cut my fingers. Teacher told me to go to the nurse, and I started panicking because I'd been cutting something dead and then cut myself with the same scalpel, and what if it got infected...?" Another sigh. "Wasn't being careful and tripped. Lucky for me, the nurse's office was just at the bottom of the stairs, but... Messed my knee up pretty bad."

This time, Gally did lift his head, only a tiny bit disappointed when Thomas' hand fell from his hair. "That's why you got the surgery..." he realised.

"Exactly." Chewing his lip, Thomas asked, "Did that suck really bad?"

Gally snorted. "Yes."

"Sorry."

Another silence, and Gally's eyes fell to Thomas' hand. "Looks so much worse on you..." he whispered, tracing over the red cut-marks with his fingers.

"Well, it isn't." Thomas switched their position so he was holding Gally's hand, blood still oozing from tattered skin. "We should get you to the hospital, 'cause I'm pretty sure you broke it again."

Although he wanted to argue, attempting to move his fingers shot pain up Gally's arm. He nodded once, then climbed to his feet when Thomas did. "I really am sorry," he said quietly. "I hate knowing I was hurting you."

Leading Gally to the door, Thomas shrugged, "I kinda started to like the pain. Meant you were still there." He pulled open the door to the rest of the house, then poked his head around the corner to the living room. "Gonna take Gally to the hospital," he told the group, who had moved from the kitchen.

Gally kept his eyes away from the living room as he shuffled his feet into his shoes, ignoring the, "Gally, I'm sorry, man," from Frypan and stepping out the front door. Once Thomas was by his side, he mumbled, "Where the hell are we going?"

"This way," Thomas chuckled, pointing down the road and starting them walking. "Hospital's just a few blocks away."

Gally opened his mouth, then huffed a laugh. "I was gonna ask why you know that, but I know why you know."

"Of all people, you should know," Thomas grinned. He gave Gally a sideways glance, then asked, "How long you known Minho?"

As Gally fell into stories of the past, he realised he'd never enjoyed a trip to the hospital until now.

Thomas had stayed with him through the hours at the hospital, and walked him all the way back to his room when they returned home at almost two in the morning. He had nervously reached out to squeeze Gally's hand not wrapped in bandages, giving him a small smile and a whispered, "Night, Gally," before disappearing into his own bedroom.

Sleep had been kind to Gally that night, swallowing him up within minutes of his head hitting the pillow, and offering him dreams of Thomas' eyes. Even when Brenda had knocked at 8am to check he was okay, he had barely woken up to make an affirmative noise before falling back into the comfort of his pillow. It was around ten that he finally pulled himself from the covers and shuffled down towards the kitchen, scratching at the back of his head with a yawn.

"Morning," Alby greeted from the now-tidy table, a mug in one hand. "You okay?"

Gally sighed through his nose and nodded, setting about making himself a coffee. "M'fine."

After a moment's silence, Alby said, "So... Thomas."

Warmth filled Gally's chest, glad he had his back to Alby as a smile tugged at his mouth. "Yeah. Thomas."

"So, had you guys seriously not met until last night? Your soulmate was under the same roof as you and you had no idea?"

Gally shrugged. "Think I'd seen him once or twice in passing, but I didn't stop to make conversation." Turning to throw a sceptical look at Alby, he said, "You can't tell me you and Newt knew straight away. Surely."

Raising his hands, Alby relented, "Okay, you're right."

Fresh coffee in his hands, Gally sat himself down at the table. "How'd you work it out?"

"Well," Alby laughed ruefully, sitting back in his chair. "We met when he moved in. I put an ad out about free rooms, he was the first to respond. I knew I liked him immediately, but you don't just ask, do you?"

Gally snorted. "Don't ask me."

"Well, we were just chatting, was about a week into him being here, and I happened to mention my heart surgery." Taking a sip of his coffee, Alby smirked, "He basically threw himself at me."

"Right." Gally had a mouthful of his own drink.

"How's your hand, by the way?" Alby asked, pointing to the bandages.

Gally dropped his gaze to his hand. "S'okay," he mumbled. "Didn't break anything this time. Nurse reckons the bones have healed so many times they don't know how to break anymore."

A nod. "Y'know... I've never seen anyone look so happy to be in pain before," Alby commented. When Gally sent him a confused look, he elaborated, "Thomas. When you left, it went really quiet in here, then Thomas yelled and was holding his hand, and the look on his face was..." He slowly shook his head. "I've known him most of my life, and he was happier than I've even seen him."

Something in Gally's chest tugged at that. Instead of addressing it, he asked, "How do you know each other?"

Alby lifted an eyebrow, but seemed to allow the change in topic. "Our moms had been friends since high school. We've been friends for as long as he's been able to walk." He smirked a little. "Well, for as well as he can do that."

"He can walk," Gally mumbled into his mug, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, just," Alby chuckled. After a moment's thought, he supposed, "You must've got everything from him falling down the stairs at school, huh?"

Gally hummed, eyes on his coffee. "Ben had a fucking field day with it."

"Yeah..." Alby finished his coffee and sat the mug down, then folded his hands on the table. "Look, just what I've heard about him from Minho and Brenda tells me he's not setting foot in this house. They didn't tell me much, but..." With a sigh, he admitted, "The way you reacted was actually scary. You always seem so chill."

Gally just shrugged, swirling his coffee slowly.

"Also, Frypan spent the whole rest of the night apologising. And I've seen Brenda get pissy before, but Minho was mad. Flat out ignored Fry entirely."

A little twinge in Gally's chest made him wince. "Minho never used to get mad. He used to have to stop me."

"I think he probably did get mad," Alby countered, watching Gally. "But I think it probably wasn't so obvious next to you. From what he's told me, you were a lot in high school." He huffed a short, breathy laugh. "That's why me and Newt were so surprised when we first met you. You were just... calm."

Gally shrugged again. "Thought I'd got control of it." He eyed his bandages. "Guess not."

"Nah, these things are a journey," Alby told him, shaking his head. "You've come a long way. Thomas was telling me just last week he was worried his soulmate might have died or something, because he hadn't got any new bruises or marks for months and he used to get them every week or so."

Gally leaned his forearms against the table. The idea that not hurting himself was somehow making Thomas feel worse put his head on spin cycle. He had been trying to stop to protect his soulmate, and here he had been, worrying that something had gone wrong. "Didn't mean to scare him," he said softly.

Tapping the table, Alby smirked, "Just call it payback for the knee surgery," and pushed himself to his feet. Grabbing his mug and quickly washing it in the sink behind him, he sighed, "I've got work, so I'm gonna head out. I'll see you when I get back." He paused and tilted his head. "Or not. Y'know, I don't see you that much." Giving Gally a firm pat on the shoulder, Alby snagged a backpack from the chair beside him and headed for the door. "Later!" he called back.

"Bye." At the sound of the front door closing, Gally found himself alone. He gazed around the kitchen, hyper-aware of how full it had been the night before and how empty it felt now. Shaking his head, he finished his coffee and washed his mug, then grabbed the extra chairs he had brought in for dinner and carried them back to the garage.

The familiar smell of timber and wood stain filled Gally's head as he sat himself down in the chair at his workbench. His quiet place. His serenity. He threw a quick glance at the wall he had hit, grateful that it seemed to bare no mark of his aggression. Unlike Thomas.

Thomas.

Thomas, who wore his bruises. Thomas, who was so glad to know he hadn't lost him before they had even been given the chance to speak. Thomas, who had listened so intently to every word he had spoken the night before.

Thomas, his soulmate.

But what did that mean? How was Gally supposed to behave or react? He now knew the person who would be his forever, but... what was he supposed to actually do?

Taking a deep breath, Gally allowed his lungs to fill with the deep scents of the workshop. Make, he decided. Like every other day. He would make.

So, Gally grabbed his carving tools and the project he had set aside to attend last night's dinner, and set himself to work.

Although he didn't know how long he had been single-mindedly focussed on his carving, Gally did know that the voice from beside him made him jump so badly he dropped his tool.

"Sorry!" Thomas blurted out, quickly ducking to retrieve the item. "Sorry, sorry... Didn't mean to scare you." He sheepishly held the carving tool out, scratching the back of his head with his other hand.

Gally cleared his throat. "S'okay," he shrugged, taking the tool and carefully replacing it in its proper place on the workbench. "Didn't hear you come in."

"Yeah, I figured," Thomas chuckled. He folded his arms and leaned his hip against the bench, peering at the panel Gally had been hunched over. "Was just asking what you were working on." Narrowing his eyes a little, his question of, "Wolverine?" sounded surprised and confused.

Gally let his eyes fall back to his work. "Uh, yeah..." He pushed the panel slightly in Thomas' direction. "S'for Minho and Brenda. I'm making them a set," he explained, pointing to a selection of carved panels on the other end of the bench. "They're both really into X-Men comics, so..."

"So, you're making the characters?" Thomas guessed, picking up the Wolverine panel to look at it properly.

"I made them their favourites already, but I figured they'd like the set." Gally watched Thomas studying his handiwork, a flutter of nerves in his stomach.

Wonder in his eyes, Thomas murmured, "That's so cool." He smoothed his fingers over the curves of the piece, then suddenly jerked his hand back with a, "Shit!"

"Ow," Gally hissed, his eyes darting to Thomas worriedly. He took the panel from his hands and set it aside, then grabbed Thomas' wrist without thinking to inspect the source of the stinging pain in his finger. "Splinter." Shaking his head, Gally half-laughed, "Of course you did."

"Sorry... I don't know how it happens," Thomas huffed as Gally reached for a pair of tweezers. "I can't help it, things just bite me."

Tilting Thomas' hand towards the light, Gally carefully grasped the splinter with the tweezers and deftly tugged it free. "You've been getting better," he hummed, checking for any other offenders before looking up at Thomas' face. His breath caught in his throat when he found Thomas gazing back down at him. "Um..." Heart racing, he released Thomas' hand, darting his eyes away as he set the tweezers aside.

Thomas shifted his feet a little, then moved to lean his hand on the workbench, but Gally's eyes widened and he grabbed his arm, yanking it towards him. "Whoa!" Thomas lurched as his centre of gravity moved unexpectedly, clamping his free hand down on Gally's shoulder to stop himself from falling. "What?"

"Nails," Gally answered simply, gesturing with his eyes to the place Thomas had nearly put his hand, where a small handful of nails were sitting.

"Right... Shit..." Breathing out a laugh, Thomas commented, "This place isn't very safe, is it?"

Gally just blinked, his chest tight with how close Thomas was. "It's a workshop," he answered, immediately feeling stupid.

Snorting, Thomas laughed, "Yeah, I got that." He squeezed Gally's shoulder gently. "If you wanted me to get closer, you could've just asked."

Gally swallowed hard. "I... That wasn't..." He screwed his face up, looking up at Thomas apologetically. "I'm sorry, I'm not... This is..."

"Hey..." Rubbing his thumb against Gally's shoulder with suddenly concerned eyes, Thomas checked, "You okay?"

Huffing out a breath, Gally pressed his eyes shut and counted to ten in his head. Panic shot through his chest when he felt Thomas start to pull his hand away, his eyes flying open again as he grabbed his wrist to stop him. "Wait!" he blurted out, stomach churning. "I'm not... I'm..." He made a frustrated noise. "Fuck. I'm not good at... y'know, my emotions," he tried to explain, unable to meet Thomas' gaze. "I... I don't know what I'm doing."

Thomas nodded, pressing his thumb into Gally's shoulder. "I don't either," he shrugged, one side of his mouth pulled up in a smile. "Guess we'll have to work it out together."

"Yeah..." Something in Gally's chest loosened. He realised he was still holding Thomas' wrist and nearly let go, but instead squeezed gently. Nervous eyes glancing up at Thomas, Gally said quietly, "S'kinda weird, being on this side of it."

"How d'you mean?" Thomas tilted his head curiously.

Absently letting his fingers trace along the veins in Thomas' wrist, Gally murmured, "I met Brenda before Minho did. Saw a pretty... pretty specific injury," he explained carefully. "I watched them going through the early days and stuff... Bren said once I'm the third member of their relationship," he half-laughed.

Thomas snorted, shaking his head. "Well," he hummed, "I don't really like sharing."

Gally's heart thumped hard against his ribcage. "I'll... I'll bear that in mind." He was a little proud of himself for the toothy grin Thomas gave him for that.

"So..." Thomas looked to their hands, then back to Gally's face. "Uh... I didn't really have a plan when I came in here, I just wanted to see you, but..." He shifted a little. "Standing like this is hurting my back, so..."

Gally's eyes widened and he gently pushed Thomas back to stand upright. "Sorry." He watched Thomas stretch his spine to alleviate the ache, his cheeks flushing when he realised he was staring at the strip of skin Thomas' t-shirt exposed when it rode up. "Uh..." Standing from his chair, Gally awkwardly pointed to the door. "We should probably... I mean, you nearly hurt yourself in here twice already."

The childish pout Thomas gave him made Gally's heart swell. "You're right," he supposed. Standing toe to toe with him, Thomas chuckled, "Christ, you're tall."

"Yeah..." Gally could only shrug. "Sorry?"

Thomas shook his head, then turned for the door. "The kids get home in about half an hour," he commented as he led Gally back into the house. "And Alby doesn't finish 'til five today." Glancing back, he asked, "What do you wanna do?"

"Uh..." Gally could feel his ears getting hot.

With half a smile, Thomas said, "I know you don't like lots of people, so..." He pointed up the stairs.

Gally's stomach lurched, but there was something about the air surrounding Thomas that kept his shoulders from tensing. "Yeah."

Thomas gestured towards the stairs with his head, then began making his way up, checking back once to make sure Gally was following him.

"Watch your feet," Gally warned from behind him, earning a laugh. No matter how he tried, he couldn't quite stop himself from staring at the way Thomas' hips moved in front of him as they climbed the staircase. Clearing his throat, he asked, "How'd you know I don't like crowds?"

With a short laugh, Thomas reached the hallway and pointed out, "You kinda hide. Also, Minho and Brenda told us about you before you moved in."

"Right..." In step behind Thomas, Gally supposed, "Didn't really try to make friends once I got here."

"No." Thomas pushed his bedroom door open, then raised his eyebrow at Gally in question. Receiving a slow nod in answer, he stepped in and waved Gally inside. "We heard a bit about you, though. Sounds like you and Minho are close." Plopping down on his bed, Thomas gestured for Gally to close the door and do the same.

Something that felt like fear swam in Gally's stomach, but he ignored it and closed the door. "Is that how you knew about...?" He awkwardly lifted his bandaged hand.

"No, I didn't make the connection," Thomas admitted with a laugh as Gally sat on the bed with him. "I was too wrapped up in actually seeing bruises again. Minho and Brenda saw my hand and both immediately went, 'It's Gally.'"

Gally dropped his gaze to his hands in his lap. "So... everyone knows..." His whole body deflated with a heavy sigh, dropping his head back to stare at the ceiling.

"About us...?" Thomas asked slowly.

Gally's eyes slid closed. "No, that I'm a short-tempered brute who only knows how to deal with his anger with violence."

A silence settled over the room, then Gally heard Thomas shuffling before his voice was much closer. "You're not a brute, Gally," he murmured, a hand finding the small of Gally's back. "The idea of it wouldn't bother you if you were." Carefully settling his head on Gally's shoulder, Thomas asked quietly, "Is that why you were so upset when I found you? Because you thought you were proving some dickhead from high school right?"

Swallowing hard, Gally didn't answer. It sounded so stupid when Thomas said it, and admitting to something so trivial made him want to curl up in a ball.

Thomas' hand slipped around to Gally's hip. "The guy sounds like a moron. Who goes to college and brags about picking fights with someone when they were in high school?" he scoffed.

"Ben, apparently," Gally mumbled.

"What did he do?" Thomas asked, his thumb moving back and forth over Gally's hipbone. "Why did he get under your skin so much?"

Gally lifted his head and shrugged the shoulder Thomas wasn't leaning on. "Shit he used to say. And he used to..." With a huff, he slowly pressed his cheek against Thomas' hair. "That day you fell down the stairs... There were so many bruises. He used to carry on about how much of a klutz you must be, and he'd poke the bruises, and..." Stomach twisting, he quietly added, "He used to say shit to Minho, too. And Brenda." Gally stared ahead at the opposite wall. "I hated it."

Resting his free hand on Gally's thigh, Thomas hummed, "So, he used to antagonise you, deliberately trying to piss you off. You were defending yourself, me, and your friends." When Gally nodded slightly into his hair, Thomas asked, "What about that makes you the bad guy?"

"Should've ignored him."

Thomas snorted. "That's always how teachers tell you to deal with assholes. Doesn't work."

Butterflies swirling in his belly, Gally carefully covered Thomas' hand on his thigh with his own. "You got that at school, too?"

"Sometimes," Thomas shrugged. "Got punched in the face a week after the stairs. Was on crutches and everything, but this guy..." After a quiet moment, he said, "I think people saw my knuckles and thought I liked to fight."

Gally's chest clenched so hard it squeezed out a pathetic whine, properly burying his face in Thomas' hair. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't be." Gently squeezing Gally's thigh, Thomas told him, "If that's how our lives had to play out to get us here, then so be it."

Taking a deep breath in, Gally let his head fill with the smell of Thomas' hair; sweet and cinnamon, a smell he recognised from walking into the bathroom after someone's showers. Thomas' showers, he supposed. There was something about the scent already being familiar, one that smelled like home, that gave Gally a giddy feeling in his stomach. "You smell good," he hummed.

"Thanks," Thomas chuckled. "Minho's right; you smell like pine."

"Is that good?"

"Mmhmm." Turning his head slightly, Thomas pressed his nose against Gally's collarbone and breathed in deeply. "Always liked that smell. Used to be a saw mill near the house I grew up in." His arm around Gally tightened as he pulled a little closer. "Used to smell this a lot."

Gally's stomach swooped. "Called soulmates for a reason," he murmured.

Thomas hummed, and Gally could feel him breathing slowly into his collarbone. "That's what you said to Minho."

"How'd you know that?"

"He told me."

Having Thomas so close was starting to make Gally's head spin. It was so easy, just sitting together, leaning into each other in a way Gally would never normally like to be touched. The idea that he could feel so relaxed with someone he still barely knew... It had his head muddled, even as his breathing settled to match Thomas'.

"You okay?" Thomas checked quietly, his thumb still stroking Gally's hip.

"Yeah," Gally sighed contentedly, closing his eyes. He realised he could stay like this forever, just breathing Thomas in, soaking up the warm silence.

The sound of feet and talking and doors pulled Gally from his comfort, reluctantly lifting his head in an attempt to discern the source.

"Students are back." Thomas shifted to look to the door. "They're early." He properly sat up and Gally almost whined as the loss of contact. Almost. "Damn," Thomas muttered. "There go my plans of having my way with you."

Gally should have blanched at that. Normally he would have, but the teasing grin on Thomas' face made him laugh instead. "Maybe next time."

Tipping his head from side to side, Thomas shrugged, "Maybe. Or I could do it anyway and it can be their turn to put up with the noise."

"Oh my god," Gally groaned, dropping his head back. "It's every night, right?"

Thomas' face lit up. "Yes!" he agreed eagerly. "Every night! Every single night, there's always someone fucking."

Rubbing a hand down his face, Gally chuckled, "I thought I'd just timed it wrong the first time. I don't go to bed 'til 1am most nights just to avoid it."

Thomas reached over and grabbed Gally's hand, holding it to his chest and gazing up at him with relief in his eyes. "Welcome to the past six months of my life."

Those eyes. Gally's dreams hadn't done them justice. Just looking at them gave him the feeling of falling, like he could stare into them forever and they would wrap him up in warmth and comfort and just hold him. It was only when their noses bumped together that he realised he had actually been falling, bracing himself with his free hand on Thomas' thigh.

"Hi," Thomas whispered, his faltering breath audible between them.

"Hi." Heart racing, Gally let his head drop lower, until he was breathing against Thomas' lips.

A knock sounded through the room, Thomas' gaze darting to the door with a pained look. "Really?"

Shaking his head, Gally muttered, "Fuck it, I don't care," and caught Thomas' lips in a kiss. His skin was hot and cold all at once, heart pounding in his ears, but it all disappeared when Thomas pushed up against him, a hand curling around the back of his neck. Breathing a relieved sigh through his nose, he mumbled, "Finally," and lifted both hands to hold Thomas' face.

Thomas silenced any more words with his tongue, slipping into Gally's mouth with a soft moan. His fingers gripped at the hair at the nape of Gally's neck, his free hand curling into the front of the Gally's t-shirt.

That feeling of pieces clicking into place suddenly felt all new, like every part of Thomas could fill every one of Gally's fears and insecurities, fitting together in a way nothing could break. Kissing him felt as easy as breathing, like maybe he could do this forever and he wouldn't need oxygen anymore. Maybe he just needed Thomas.

Another knock.

"Fuck off!" Thomas called out, muffled against Gally's lips, drawing him closer.

A cackle from the hallway. "You had all day!" came Minho's voice.

Gally swallowed Thomas' attempt at a retort, heart beating hard in his chest. He just wanted Thomas. He'd had years with Minho; he could wait while Gally revelled in the feeling of finally being whole.

When the need for air finally separated them, Thomas held Gally's head close, leaning their foreheads together as they panted for breath. "Worth waiting for," Thomas mumbled, pecking Gally's lower lip. "But I'm so annoyed it took two months to realise you were here."

"Me too." Taking a moment to soak Thomas in, Gally whispered, "Can we just stay here for a while?"

Thomas hummed his agreement, releasing his fingers from Gally's shirt to rest the flat of his palm against his chest. His hand at the nape of Gally's neck gently toyed with his hair, twisting it around his fingers. "How're we supposed to know what to do now?" he wondered quietly.

"I don't know." Tracing his thumb along Thomas' cheekbone, Gally sighed, "I only really know what happened with Minho and Brenda, and I wasn't there for... y'know, all of it."

"Got the same thing with Alby and Newt," Thomas murmured. "Shoulda seen them when they first met. Newt was checking the house out and Alby was in love immediately."

Frowning a little, Gally said, "I thought Newt was the first one to move in."

Thomas snorted. "He was the first to answer the ad. I already lived here." He let his hand wander, his fingers following Gally's collarbone. "Was Mom's idea. She didn't want Alby by himself too long."

"That's fair."

Gally thought back to the first days of Minho and Brenda's relationship. He remembered the awkwardness that followed overly familiar touches, the way they had grinned at each other whenever one made a reference the other already understood. He remembered the first time they kissed in front of him, the odd pit he felt in his stomach even though he was happy for them. The time Minho had called him after dinner just to gush over how happy he was. The first time Brenda contacted him because she needed someone to save her from a girls night while Minho was out of town with his parents. The way they had run to each other the second they could after graduation.

"It's hard being the one on the sidelines," he said softly. "Because you still wanna be the best friend you can, but they don't see how much it hurts."

Thomas' hand drifted up to cup Gally's jaw. "I think those two are your platonic soulmates," he hummed, leaning into Gally more. "You moved away from home just to be around them again. And they both love you so much. Before you moved in, they were talking about you all the time, to the point where we were starting to think you should've been getting their bruises, too."

Wrinkling his nose, Gally mumbled, "It's not like that."

"No, I know," Thomas assured him. He tilted his head slightly and pressed a gentle kiss against Gally's mouth. "Your bruises are mine."

The possessive note in Thomas' voice sent a shiver up Gally's spine. "They better be," he whispered, grinning at the dark look in Thomas' eyes.

"C'mere." And if Thomas' low growl didn't convince him, his grip on the back on his head certainly did.

There was something about gripping Thomas hips hard enough to feel the bruises from his fingers pressing into his own skin. Something about watching the hickeys Thomas sucked into his shoulders blooming on himself as he made them. Something about feeling the scratches Thomas so loved receiving scraping down his own back.

Something about making enough noise for everyone in the house to hear, knowing they were keeping people awake and not caring one bit. Something about feeling so good with someone that the rest of the world fell away as though it had never mattered in the first place.

There was something about finally having his soulmate in his arms that made Gally feel whole. He couldn't name it, even after months. Eventually, he realised it didn't need a name.

Just calling it love was enough.