"Hey."

Gala looks up from the datapad at the sound of Uyo's voice. Uyo is tired, he can tell, but he's trying to hide it. He'd insisted on being the one to treat Gala, but after guiding Gala's kneecap back into place, he'd been swept up in the chaos of the after-battle infirmary, and Gala hadn't seen him. Thankfully––though the medcenter is full––it seems like the majority of injuries are breaks and dislocations, rather than anything more serious.

"How are you feeling?" Uyo continues, gently running a hand over Gala's knee.

Gala sets the datapad aside and shrugs. "All right I suppose."

Uyo's delicately tattooed hands continue to feel around Gala's knee. "Any numbness or tingling?"

"Just heat," Gala replies.

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

Under Uyo's touch, Gala feels the stiffness in his knee melting away. If he gives it a couple stretches now, it would probably help it limber up faster. "I bet I could make it out tonight, if I try hard enough," he says, flexing his knee.

The shooting pain that engulfs his leg is only made worse by Uyo forcefully pushing his knee back onto its cradle of pillows. He sucks in a sharp breath and bites his bottom lip to keep from crying out.

"You promised me you'd keep still," he hears Uyo scold. "That's the only reason I didn't sedate you for the healing process." But Uyo softens his voice, and his touch, as he rearranges the pillows around Gala's leg. "I know how much you hate that." With a sheepish grin, he pats Gala's leg. "Sorry."

The pat sends another jolt of pain shooting through Gala's leg, but he tries to smile anyway. "It's okay. Should have kept my promise. Didn't feel so good anyway; that was stupid of me."

For a man who liked to be precise with his words, "didn't feel so good" and "that was stupid" were probably the grossest understatements for what had just happened. But there's something about the way Uyo has been touching him that's making it difficult for Gala to focus. Even more so when Uyo pulls up a stool and settles his palm against Gala's cheek. "I was worried, you know," Uyo says, his voice slipping out of its medic's bedside cadence and into a more familiar, personal tone. "When they carried you in here, I thought it was gonna be a lot worse."

Words are failing Gala faster than the discharge capacity of his Z-6. The warmth of Uyo's hand on his cheek, the soft way Uyo's thumb is stroking his skin, makes him want to melt into the sensation. He presses his cheek closer to Uyo's hand, humming a response as his eyes flutter closed. He can hear Uyo's voice, still talking about his leg, but the sound washes uncomprehendingly over him. He's tried so hard to control this, but lately every brush of Uyo's skin against his sets him on fire. This wasn't what they were to each other; they'd talked about that. Gala loved Uyo with every last bit of himself, and he knew that Uyo felt the same, but this…intimacy…is something new. It feels like he's been stripped down, standing defenseless before the blazing sun that is Uyo. He's caught himself so many times wishing that Uyo would press his lips to his fevered flesh. Stumbled so many times out of their bunk to the 'freshers in the middle of the night just to clear his head. It's getting harder and harder to breathe when Uyo is close to him, and––

"Gala."

The word startles Gala out of his thoughts. He jerks as a hand begins running through his hair. It's Uyo's voice, of course. Clear and cutting and concerned. "Gala what is it? Are you in pain?"

Gala immediately plasters a smile on his face. "I'm fine." He tugs Uyo's hand gently away from his cheek. "I got lost in thought; sorry." Uyo didn't need to know how desperate his touch made him; it would ruin everything.

He should have known Uyo would see through it.

"Sleenshit. You think I don't know when you're lying to me?" From his pocket, Uyo fishes out a penlight, and shines it in Gala's eyes. "Are you having any pain besides the knee? Are you having shortness of breath?"

Uyo sets the light down and brings his hand toward Gala's neck, two fingers outstretched to check Gala's pulse, but Gala captures it before it can touch his skin. "I'm fine. I'm not in any pain. Besides the knee. I swear it."

Gala can see in Uyo's eyes, as they stare down at him, that Uyo knows he's holding something back. But he's only barely holding back. Uyo's chest is inches from his own, Uyo's hands almost touching his face. Tension is building between each of their shared breaths, a crackling electricity that sparks over Gala's skin, amping higher and higher, waiting for just one signal to let it off. Uyo's eyes flicker to his lips, and the words rush out before he can stop them.

"Do it."

Uyo's mouth crashes into Gala's. His lips are sweet, and needy, and insistent, and Gala opens to him, letting the heat sweep him away. Softly, Uyo's tongue meets his, slipping over it in gentle flutters. He grips the back of Uyo's neck, holding him closer, deeper, and a whimpering moan escapes his chest, or Uyo's chest, he doesn't even know. He doesn't know where he ends and Uyo begins. His skin is on fire, his lips trembling as Uyo's tongue dances over them, and then that tongue is back in his mouth, burning him, melting him, making him moan again as Uyo is moaning again, and his head is swimming, and then…

"Gala."

His name on Uyo's lips is a prayer, a gasped plea, as Uyo breaks away. But Gala holds him close still, and Uyo rests his forehead against Gala's, their breath mingling in shaky puffs. Gala struggles to come back to himself, every limb tingling with weightless rapture.

Uyo finally pulls back, far enough to gaze down at Gala. Uyo's face is flushed, his expression somewhere between bliss and disbelief. Gala can't help the smile that tugs at his mouth, though he has trouble finding his voice.

"Do you… Do you treat all your patients this way, doctor?"

Uyo's face beams like the sun as a giggle surges up out of him. His hands cup Gala's cheeks again, so soft, so warm, and then his mouth is on Gala's once more. It's over too soon, but Uyo leaves a kiss behind on the tip of his nose. Gala smiles, feeling a peace in his heart that he had never known before, and Uyo smiles back.

"Only the ones I really, really like."