"Hey."

Uyo's tone is soft as he gazes down at Gala, propped up by pillows on the medcenter bed. Gala's knee is starting to bruise, but at least the swelling has gone down a little. Uyo runs a hand gently over it. "How are you feeling?"

Gala shrugs. "All right I suppose."

"Any numbness or tingling?" Uyo continues to gently feel around the knee, testing the give of the tissue.

"Just heat," Gala says.

Uyo nods. "That'll be the bacta injection. With any luck, you should be up and walking again by tomorrow."

"I bet I could make it out tonight, if I try hard enough." Gala's knee flexes under Uyo's hands.

Uyo hisses and clamps down on Gala's leg, causing Gala to wince. "You promised me you'd keep still. That's the only reason I didn't sedate you for the healing process." But Uyo softens his voice again as he repositions Gala's knee on its cradle of pillows. "I know how much you hate that." He pats Gala's leg, and his mouth quirks in a sheepish look. "Sorry."

Gala tries to smile, though his brows are still knitted in a grimace. "It's okay. Should have kept my promise. Didn't feel so good anyway; that was stupid of me."

Uyo smiles gently and pulls up a stool. He scoots it up to sit near Gala's head, resting his palm lightly against Gala's cheek. "I was worried, you know. When they carried you in here, I thought it was gonna be a lot worse."

Gala only hums in response, leaning into Uyo's hand and letting his eyes drift closed.

"You're lucky it was just the kneecap," Uyo continues, stroking Gala's cheek lightly with his thumb. "I don't know what I would've done if I'd had to take your leg."

And it's true. Uyo's mind drifts to the possibilities. Could he have done it? If it came to that, could he really have done it? It wouldn't be his first amputation, but Gala. It would have been Gala. His best friend. His more than best friend. His more than brother. His…whatever they are. His person. He'd be lying to himself if he didn't admit that more and more often he catches himself looking at Gala, admiring the wide expanse of his chest, the solid strength of his gunner's thighs. That he sometimes stops himself from reaching out and tracing the swirling tattoos over Gala's shoulders. That when Gala smiles, his breath gets caught in his throat and he feels his face flushing. For all that they're close, it almost feels…wrong…to think about Gala that way. Would Gala even want it? Yes, he loved Gala, he knew that. And Gala loved him. But this was a kind of intimacy that they'd already said they didn't have for each other. What if it messed everything up?

"I'm sure they would've gotten you a new leg," Uyo murmurs.

He senses, rather than feels or hears, that something is not right, and he pulls himself out of his thoughts to see Gala trembling slightly, face tucked into Uyo's palm, breath coming in short gasps. Immediately he jumps up from the stool. "Gala," he calls, running his other hand through Gala's hair, "Gala what is it? Are you in pain?"

Gala jerks, as though startled, and before Uyo can say anything else his expression slips into a placating smile. "I'm fine," he says, reaching for Uyo's hand and drawing it gently away from his face. "I got lost in thought; I'm sorry."

"Sleenshit," Uyo retorts. "You think I don't know when you're lying to me?" He pulls a small light out of his pocket and flashes it over Gala's eyes. "Are you having any pain besides the knee? Are you having shortness of breath?"

Gala captures Uyo's other hand when he sets the light down to check Gala's pulse. "I'm fine," he says again. "I'm not in any pain. Besides the knee. I swear it."

Uyo looks into Gala's eyes, his beautiful brown eyes, and he sees truth. But there's something else there, something that Gala is still trying to hide. And Uyo would call him on it, but he is suddenly acutely aware of how close they are, his hands held by Gala, framing Gala's face, his chest inches from Gala's, their breath mingling in soft, warm pulses. His eyes drift to Gala's lips, quivering slightly, and if he could just…he could just…

"Do it," Gala whispers.

Uyo's lips are on Gala's before his mind can comprehend what's happening. The sweet heat radiating from them draws him closer, deeper, and Gala's mouth parts beneath him. His tongue slides over Gala's, softly, gently, and is met with a whimpering moan, from Gala or from himself he's not sure. His head is spinning, and each light scrape from Gala's stubble across his skin sends waves of tingling fire rippling through him. He presses closer still, feeling the weight of Gala's strong hands at the back of his neck. Gala is moaning again, but he's moaning too, as their tongues caress each other, and he knows he needs to breathe soon, but through the haze of his mind he thinks that if he died right now he would be content, because Gala, Gala…

"Gala."

Uyo breaks the kiss with a gasp. He stays close, eyes closed, trembling slightly, forehead pressed against Gala's. The warmth of Gala's shaky breathing and the weight of his hands on Uyo's neck are almost intoxicating. It's more than anything Uyo could have imagined.

Finally, he pulls back, to look at Gala. Gala's face is flushed, and his eyes are shining. A small smile plays at the corner of Gala's mouth. "Do you…" he begins, his voice as breathless as Uyo feels. "Do you treat all your patients this way, doctor?"

Uyo can't help the giddy giggle that bubbles up from his chest. He brings his hands to Gala's face, cupping his cheeks. Swiftly, he leans in and steals another kiss. As he pulls back, he presses a soft peck to the tip of Gala's nose, making them both smile. And he feels, deep in his heart, that things between himself and Gala will never be the same again.

"Only the ones I really, really like."