Title: Burn, Baby, Burn

Fandom: Promare
Pairing: Galo Thymos/Lio Fotia

Rating: PG

Length: 671 Words
Notes: Slight spoilers for the movie.

Summary: Galo always returns to the fire station smelling one way or another. The way he wears it, though, is what intrigues Lio most.

The aftermath of arson at the hands of Mad Burnish always tingled on the edge of his tongue before the smoke ever reached his nostrils. The taste is bitter and stringent, scorched with aimless desperation. As much as Lio took pride in being leader of such a movement, he never did find any pleasure in their protestations. Terrorism, Foresight had called it. Lio’s upper lip curls at the mere mention of his name and he resists the urge to spit as if the taste were fresh upon his tongue once more. Foresight’s flames were as cold and all-encompassing as the man himself, and with a flavor akin to charred flesh. Though they had since reconciled for the sake of peace, Lio can’t well forget how the smoke burned his eyes that day. The door to his room opens and he looks up from his tablet. “Back so soon?” Galo strides into the room with a bright red jacket slung over his shoulder and a shit-eating grin stretching his mouth. “Just back from a four-alarmer! Wish you could’ve been there.” “I’ve had my fill of copycat arsonists, thank you,” Lio says and takes a sniff. “Gasoline-fueled?” Turning as he hangs his jacket on a nearby hook, Galo blinks a few times in disbelief. “How do you do that?” Lio shrugs. “Not sure, to be honest.” Galo always returns to the station smelling one way or another, whatever happened to be the starter for the fire that morning or afternoon. The way he wears it, though, is what intrigues Lio most. It isn’t like Foresight’s scent at all. “You should come with us for the next arson,” Galo suggests as he climbs onto the bed and nudges him from behind. “Scoot up. I wanna sit behind you.” Even after all this time, Lio still get those little fireflies in his belly whenever Galo decides that he wants to cuddle and that’s the end of it. No arguments. He feigns annoyance with a huff but does as he’s asked regardless, scooting along the mattress to allow Galo space to sit behind him. “Why should I?” Lio mutters as Galo pulls him backwards and flush against his chest. “It’s not like you guys need me or anything.” “But we do,” Galo corrects him and lays his chin on his shoulder. “You can smell the flare-up for an arson a mile away and you’re always more accurate than the computer sims.” Lio inhales deeply as those big arms come to wrap around him. A smile thins his lips and he turns his head slightly to look at Galo. “You just want me by your side because a you’re a lovesick fool.” “And?” Galo admits with a face that would almost shame the color of his jacket. “I like having you there to cheer me on.” A chuckle escapes Lio. “Fine. I’ll attend the next firefight, but you have to promise to keep the public displays of affection to a minimum. Got it?” Galo grins wider this time. “It’s a date!” “That isn’t exactly you giving your word on it, but I’ll take what I can get,” Lio says with another laugh. He nuzzles against one of Galo’s biceps and receives a squeeze around the middle in turn. Mad Burnish and Foresight have nothing on the sights, smells, and tastes that Galo comes home with after a fire. Sometimes the smoke leaves little wisps in his hair and breath, and suddenly Lio is the one who can’t get enough; he smells like a raging inferno or a summer sky, tastes like leather and teak wood. There’s nothing cold or unpleasant about him. “Hey, Lio,” Galo whispers into his hair and touches his chin gently to turn his head once more. “C’mere a sec…” Lio barely turns his head and his lips smash into Galo’s with an epiphany rising in the pit of his stomach. Those flavors and scents overpower his senses and he melts into Galo’s arms, relishing in the faint smoke still fresh upon his breath.