#galidino

[beithirs]

【 CONTINUED. 】 @waxgentleman

          Under any other circumstances, he would be happy about this. Overjoyed, even. It's exactly what he wanted, isn't it? To be accepted? To be acknowledged, even if it's just to the smallest degree? Who cares that it's only an act of pity; if others pitying him gets him what he wants, isn't the end result the same?

Had this opportunity arisen several weeks ago, he would have gladly taken the chance to hold hands with Galdino for a while. He had nice hands; Bubblegum wasn't opposed to touching them. He liked feeling the structure of his delicate bones protruding just beneath the surface of his skin. Artists always had the loveliest hands.

     But that was then, and this is now. Things weren't the same as how they were a month or so back.

Bubblegum has finally emerged from his darkened room, the cave he has resigned himself to since discovering the news of his demotion. There are rings under his eyes; his hair is uncombed and unwashed. He has committed to his bitter sulking, and it consumes every spare moment he has. Reck's retelling of Galdino's words had described one of few possible scenarios that could rouse him from his miserable environment.

Now, he stands before the man in question, looking down at his ungloved hand — an outstretched proposition.

          He should be happy about this, right?

There is churning sensation deep within his gut, twisting like a knife. It infects him when he sees Galindo's features; his friendly demeanor, his approachable expression. Anything that even suggests a display of outward warmth. Jealousy. This man has taken everything that he has achieved from him. He spent months getting cozy with his Captain; doing anything Kid asked, whenever he asked him — sucking up to him without any hesitation, dropping everything to serve him. He tried so damn hard to get the position of errand boy because he wanted to be close to him; he wanted to be near his idol, even if it was just to bring him his beer when he was already sitting at the table, to run around sending little messages for him. All of that, and for what? For Kid to just give the position away because Galdino did a few small cleaning jobs? Tidied up the gym? Dusted his goggles? Bubblegum could have done all of those things himself! He hadn't, but he could have!

When they first met, Bubblegum had thought Galdino was the same as him. A dweeb. Weak. A total loser. Yet, somehow, despite that, he had crawled his way up, kissed everyone's asses until they loved him. Kid trusted him. Linn obviously adored him. It wasn't fair. What did Galdino have that he didn't? None of it was fair. Why should he struggle, while Galdino effortlessly acquires everything that he wants?

Here he is now, reaching out a hand to him for ten minutes, like he's the big shot. What, does he think his companionship is worth that much? Does he think others should be grateful to even touch him, like he's a celebrity now? 

Bubblegum's dark eyes narrow. His voice is croakier than usual, as if fresh from sleep, despite it being the middle of the afternoon.

     ❝ ...Ten minutes, right? No backing out?                     ...Alright. ❞

With that, he moves his hand — not towards Galdino's, but towards his own mouth. He inhales from his nose, sucks into his throat, and loudly clears the cavern of his sinuses.

                    And he spits.

                    Directly into his hand.

Producing a pool of sticky mucus, a rancid phlegm that naturally accompanies years of smoking, years of shoving various powder substances up his nostrils. He makes sure Galdino catches a glimpse of the assortment of colors he has splattered into his palm, the wide range of shades of yellow — but only for a passing second, before he is clasping their hands together, pressing the catarrh firmly between them, holding them together to seal their skin like it's glue.

Bubblegum's eyes return to Galidino's face, then; looking down at him, as if he's suddenly remembered that his height enables him to tower over the shorter man.

For the first time since since he discovered news of his demotion, he is smiling. A twisted, horrible, sadistic smile, callous and cruel.

     ❝ Fuck. You. ❞

[mfline-gallery]

[mfline-gallery]

[mfline-gallery]

[mfline-gallery]

[mfline-gallery]

[mfline-gallery]