A/N: 5 pages in word, oops. Not proofread.
For jenwalters.
This year, you and your friends had decided to host a bon fire to toast to the New Year. The party was situated on a lesser known beach, so it was secluded enough that you would most likely not encounter anyone uninvited, but still able to see the fireworks once they started.
You arrived after the sun has set, so you were far from the first person there. From the carpark, you could see over the beach; a few people were scattered along the waterline, while others were decked out on the sand in chairs and blankets. You moved around to the boot of your car and got out your bag, dropping your sunglasses in there as you went.
"Hey," came a voice, and you looked up to see Gally. You couldn't help but notice he wore a tank that revealed his shapely biceps.
"Hey, Gal," you greeted him with a smile. You looked back down, a frown forming. You had brought some food and drinks but you couldn't take it all at once.
"Need some help?" he asked, moving closer. You nodded, and he picked up the cooler while you took the other two bags filled with stuff like chips. You closed your boot and stepped back. Gally was already making his way to the steps that led down the cliffside to the beach. You followed, making your steps quick so you could catch up.
"Did you just get here?" you questioned. He looked back over his shoulder, gracing you with a quick glance before his eyes turned downcast once more, watching the steps with caution.
"Yeah."
"You didn't bring anything," you teased. By now, you'd reached the bottom of the steps, and his forehead creased.
"I'm letting whoever wants to to crash at my place afterwards," he said. He looked confused for a moment, but you spoke before he could air his concern.
You almost smacked yourself upside the head—you looked like a complete idiot now. "Oh. I totally forgot you live nearby."
He gave a short laugh as you two walked towards the biggest group. He dumped the cooler on the sand and then turned back to help you. You had ungracefully tangled your fingers into the many different straps. You supposed he had seen. Gally gingerly took your hands in his and began untying them, and you just watched him with an expression that was something relative to awe. He glanced up at one point but was swift to look back down.
Alright—you shook yourself back to reality. There was no need to fawn over the hot guy who was handling you like precious cargo. (Woops.)
"Thanks for everything," you smiled earnestly. He gave you a nod and you saw him look towards the water, probably searching for someone. You took that as your cue to leave.
"I hate you so much," you sighed, looking down at your shirt. You'd just been sprayed in alcohol, and it stank. "Are you laughing? Teresa, stop laughing!" She did the complete opposite of your words, so you were left to sink into your chair and glower. "This is so not funny…"
She smiled widely, giving your shoulder a couple of pokes. "It kind of is."
"You ruined my top," you said simply, still glaring.
"Take it off."
"Didn't know you felt that way, T," you jeered, your lips quirking.
Gally, who was now towering over the two of you, interrupted. "Don't you have a boyfriend, Teresa?"
She glanced up, a shrug rolling over her. "You haven't seen us behind closed doors. You can't stop that kind of chemistry…"
Gally had provided the perfect distraction so you took the chance to lean over and knock the drink from her hand, causing it to splash all over. Teresa jumped up, shaking off the liquid as she went.
"You—You—"
"Are a perfect, beautiful angel whose heart of gold you trampled, while you are a disgusting little gremlin who got what she deserve?" you offered, shooting her an innocent smile. She let out a sarcastic laugh before throwing her arms in the air in exasperation.
"Now I need a new drink."
"Shoo," you waved a hand at her. She flipped you off, then turned on her heel.
"Disgusting little gremlin?" Gally repeated with a snort, taking Teresa's chair. You smiled proudly, crossing your arms. "So," he said, settling into his seat, "you having a good time?"
"I was up until I got covered in beer," you said with a roll of your eyes.
"Well, you always could take Teresa's advice," he joked.
You gave a moan. "You are all terrible."
"Finally, the credit I deserve." You laughed. "Hey, you wanna play some beer pong?"
You sat up. "What the hell? They didn't lug down a table, did they?"
"Nah, it's makeshift. Courtesy of Minho," Gally shrugged. You were about to accept the offer but Teresa's shout cut you off.
"Hey, get over here!" You looked between her and Gally, and then sighed, lifting yourself from the chair.
"Raincheck?" you asked, sending him your best apologetic look.
"Yeah, sure." (He didn't look so sure.)
After you escaped Teresa forcing you to gawk at a jellyfish washed ashore, you eventually made your way to where the beer pong was set up. You could see a couple of games already going on. Before you could take another step, Minho was tugging on your sleeve.
"You're on my team," he stated, not letting go as he stalked away. You glanced around quickly, hoping to spot Gally. When you did, you called his name. You met his eyes, and then he looked away, tapping someone on the shoulder. The two boys jogged up. You realised it was Ben.
"Teams?" Ben asked.
"She's on mine," Minho grinned, slinging an arm around your shoulder. "We're gonna drink you under the metaphorical table."
"Not a chance in hell," Ben replied, and Gally simultaneously said, "We're playing with my stuff, shank." You could see their competitiveness in the grins they bared.
"Quit stalling, then," you smirked, picking up a ball.
.
A little while later, half of Ben and Gally's cups were empty, while a little less of your's and Minho's were. Your team was winning so far.
Abruptly, Ben scrambled to his feet, apparently seeing someone he recognised. The three of you watched him run off.
You reached out and took one of your cups, about to take a sip before Minho slapped your arm.
"Don't do that!" Minho exclaimed.
You rolled your eyes. "Fine. I'll be back, you big baby." You got to your feet to set off for a drink, until you were intercepted by Gally.
"Whoa," you laughed, almost stumbling into him. He caught you with ease.
"Can we talk?" he asked suddenly.
"Oh, sure," you answered slowly, a little unsure of why he sounded so serious. Before you two could take another step, Minho and Ben were yelling.
"Get back here! We have a game to win!"
You pouted sullenly, eying his golden-flecked gaze. (Damn it.) "You wasted my chance."
Gally and Ben had ended up winning, which had majorly wounded Minho's ego, sending him into battle mode. He was challenging as many people as you could to play beer pong, even when most declined in favour of the oncoming fireworks display.
You were a step away from drunk after the game, leading you to wander along the beach with a fluttery smile. You had ditched your shoes a while ago, somewhere. That was a problem for another time, you decided. Your head whipped up when you heard approaching footsteps.
"Hey, Galldog!" You snickered to yourself. "Oh God, did I really just say that?"
"People aren't going to start calling me that, are they?" he asked with wide eyes.
"Naw," you laughed. "I might, though. Accidentally."
"Then I might accidentally do this," he sighed, taking hold of your hands and walking backwards, into the ocean. You were given little choice as you stumbled with him, eventually falling to your knees.
"I'm all wet." Your nose scrunched. You held up a finger, directly in front of his face. "Don't you dare." He smirked, bumping his calf against your knee. He presented you his hand, and when you accepted, he hauled you to your feet. "Hey, didn't you wan—wanna talk?"
Your words sent a flood of recognition over his features. "Uh, yeah. I—"
You never got to finish because you pushed him over then, sending him sprawling into an approaching wave. He was chuckling, you could hear him among the rushing sound that surrounded you. "Deserved that," you thought you heard him say.
"Now you're really Captain Gally of the Seven Seas," you giggled, reminding him of the old nickname.
"And you're about to be the first mate," he returned just as quick. Then your footing was ripped out from beneath you, and a wave crashed over you. Your head poked through the water, laughing just as hard as Gally was. You splashed at him. You were waist level now but you remained floating. Your hair felt heavy on your head, and you pushed it out of your eyes. Suddenly, Gally was there, helping you, putting a few strands behind your ear. His hands were creeping around and up you. Eventually they came to rest on your cheeks.
He was so close, closer than all the other times that day. Your eyes flickered to his lips, so near yours. Your gaze tilted back up. "What're you doing?" you whispered, trying to avoid the water as you bobbed up and down calmly.
"Doing my duty as a captain," he replied. He was still moving closer.
"Oh, so you'd fight a shark for me?"
"Yeah. Maybe even a Kraken."
"What about a possum?"
"What?"
"I hear they're pretty deadly."
He shook his head. "Possums aren't part of my division."
"Gally?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you gonna kiss me?"
He smirked. "I might."
You realised your nerves were a little frayed upon hearing him say it. And when he finally pressed his lips to yours, more tenderly than you could have imagined, you were fine—good, brilliant—the best you'd ever been. (He was too, judging by the way he smiled against your mouth most ardently.)
