#cpirits // gallagher

[orphiicheartd]

@cpirits said : Downing his drink, the brunette gazed at Sunday, smirking. "Just how sensitive are those little wings of yours?" // Gallagher @ Sunday 😗 『 AAAAAA || Accepting 』

           ・⊱ From the moment he'd known of the other's presence amid the staff, Sunday knew this man was going to fray his every last nerve.

           He was tall and wonderfully robust in ways Sunday couldn't help admiring, but when it came to the rest of him...shaggy brown hair and visible stubble, a sloppily-donned dress shirt the drinksmith not only couldn't seem to properly tuck away but also had to leave partially unbuttoned ( seriously, did Gallagher not know how distracting slovenly that was?! ), and uneven sleeves...ugh, the man's 'professional' appearance was an utter nightmare. Without fail, Sunday's eyes could find him by that, even amid the densest crowds in the bar, to the point where it was almost reflexive to seek him out. But would Gallagher ever change that? No, it seemed impossible to make him.

           Stars, the amount of times Sunday wanted to reach out, grab the man by his unkempt shift front, and-

           "Rather bold, aren't you, Mr. Gallagher?"

           Said wings twitched in irritation ( and in flusteredness, but damn he'll be if he let that show ) as he cleared his throat. Hastily trying to maintain his composure. Instead of letting himself dare falter before the man now, Sunday merely brought his current drink to his lips, savoring the rich taste of the man's work ( if only Gallagher were this neat and immaculate in presentation as well ), before deliberately leaning over the counter, just enough as he'd set down the glass.

           "I'll admit, I can't quite tell if that's born from genuine curiosity or boorish foolishness."

[xorphiicheartd]

What an unruly little pup in need of proper discipline...well, he already knew the man was damn near an incorrigibly stark contrast to his own meticulous presentation. But still...

"Is that a challenge then?"

The mere idea of being the one to 'train' Gallagher...that definitely sent a deliciously electric thrill through his body.

He could make an obedient dog out of him yet, he was sure of it. If he could just break him down in all the right ways ( how, oh how should he best go about that- ), Gallagher might as well be putty in his hands.

For now-

A proud little huff left Sunday's lips, wings fluttering a little as he pushed closer to Gallagher.

"Look at you now..." he almost crooned, voice almost patronizingly saccharine, "don't tell me that was enough to make you lose your wits already?"

The wet feeling against his gloves wasn't...as bad as he'd feared. Not with the soft plush warmth enveloping them, pulsing and constricting around the digits as he'd push further, dragging his fingertips along his walls. It was rather enjoyable, especially with how Gallagher's body would react. How his rich voice rang out in pleasure. But still...still-

His fingers stilled briefly, his brows furrowing a slight.

Odd...he ought to feel the other's cock by now. Was it deeper still for humans? Such an odd difference between and Halovians, he supposed. But no matter. He WILL find it. He just needed to try a little harder-

★ ━━━━━━ His legs opened wide to give Sunday room enough to touch, and Gallagher trembled against Sunday, his shoes flat against the floor as he was quite flexible...

"You finally get to see me, a bitch of a dog who bears teeth at everyone he meets. I'm not trained." He gasped between the warmth of his gut, and the static in his head.

He groaned in response to the chiding, his chest bouncing a little as he shifted, and he suddenly became aware of them--his breasts. Instinctively he moved a hand to cover them, bile rising that he did his best to swallow.

( Why now? Just when things were getting good?! )

But his dysphoria soon melted into pleasure as his brain also remembered what they were doing... the feeling of Sunday touching him.

His back arched as he felt fingers rubbing his sex, he knew how aroused he was--despite the stress, that his body would gracefully accept.

"Aahhh-- Aaaa!!!"

Two fingers slipped within easily, though it made Gallagher moan, feeling the fabric covered digits caressing his walls. He wanted to shove himself down, make his sex eat them, down to the last knuckle. Slowly, he nodded his head, chin still in Sunday's grasp.

[xorphiicheartd]

           ・⊱ The sudden request had Sunday startling a slight, hand twitching and pressing instinctively as it was moved. Though surprise quickly became a more familiar feeling of annoyance intermingled with a swell of arousal at Gallagher's words. ( what? did he LIKE Gallagher's needy little interruption? ) And something he didn't realize might be perceived by the other, as his guarded emotions gave way in impulse while he'd grip the other's jaw tight.

           "Rather demanding all of a sudden aren't you?" he remarked, tone yet careful and measured even with a stern hint coloring it.

           He was supposed to keep his composure, yet there he went, fueled by the more familiar yet not emotion and stinging of his pride, anxieties shoved to the back of his mind behind a stronger sense of determination as he'd push his hand further into the other's pants. Splaying his hand over the other's lower belly and working its way between his legs as words tumbled from his lips in rapid mumbles.

           "You said I could touch as I pleased. You said you'd like 'anything' I'd do. But it seems this dog wasn't all that honest after–hn?"

           He halted, brows furrowing as he lightly felt over then cupped the other's sex.

           This...this felt something similar to his own anatomy. So then...was Gallagher's cock nestled inside just like his, too? Were humans really that similar?! ...hah, that was fine then.

           If that was the sort of touch he wanted so damn badly, he'd even go the extra mile and get it out for him-

           "...fine. If you want it like this, then perhaps I will be magnanimous this time and let that slide."

           He shifted a little, keep careful hold on Gallagher to make sure he didn't fall off his lap, using the movement to further apply pressure on the man as his fingers began to blindly work and explore beneath his clothes. Running over what he could feel was the slit and ( ignoring how wet his gloves might get, ignoring how wet his gloves might get- ) pressing along it to delve in.

           "Is this what you meant? Gallagher?" Wait, there was more here-?

★ ━━━━━━ The reassurance was nice to hear, and it helped his heart beat a little better, though the touches from Sunday made him feel so hot... His toes curled in his shoes as his legs flattened to the bathroom floor, his ass pushing into Sunday without thought.

His brain was firing too fast, his senses so heightened on every move of Sunday's fingers, he felt his chest puff out when it was traced up the middle, his hand holding Sunday's other squeezing tightly.

He was flushed even deeper red as his beard and chin were touched, and Gallagher didn't resist his head being tipped back, feeling hair fall away from the back of his neck as gooseflesh rose on his neck and shoulders.

Gallagher's lips parted as the area below them was touched, and he trembled. "Ahhh-." the sound pressed from his lips was akin to a sigh, but sounding more tender, much more vulnerable.

He couldn't help what came from his mouth next, sounding so demanding, but also an outrageous request--demand. "Just stick your damn hand in my pants already, I can't take your slow pace." As he spoke he maneuvered the hand he held down to his waist, pushing gloved fingers into his waistband. "Please."

[orphiicheartd]

           ・⊱ Sunday resisted the urge to squirm where he sat. In nerves, in growing disgust of the floor. But he pushed himself to focus on Gallagher, and Gallagher alone.

           Right–this was all for him.

           Do this for him.

           Think of him, everything would be just fine-

           "Ah-" Sunday's eyes blinked as he was pulled back out of his thoughts. Crap, that probably wasn't a good look for him right now, getting so distracted now of all times- "Y-yes, please."

           Eager to get his coat to safety ( well, as much as this place could even offer such, anyways...but the hook on the door behind him was far better than the floor at least; at the very least he'll have his hands free now, he supposed ), and to brush off the little lapse of him getting caught up in his own thoughts, he gladly offered it up to the other. Although now he had a whole other problem-

           "I, ah-"

           Aeons, where did he look? Was it impolite to stare? Gallagher didn't like that before, even if they were both men ( or at least, Sunday was his kind's equivalent to that, he supposed ), or...was it worse to not look, now that it seemed Gallagher was more comfortable with him? What would upset him more? Could he–should he...what was he supposed to-

           "Th-thank you, Gallagher."

           By Xipe's name and grace, he seriously needed to pull himself together by the time Gallagher was ready to settle down how he wanted. Especially considering their imminent proximity. He needed to focus on helping him, not...not-

★ ━━━━━━ He hoped it wouldn't put Sunday off to sit on the floor, the bathroom was a safe space and so Gallagher didn't want to leave. As he sat on the toilet he held his breath waiting for Sunday's answer.

If he should decline then Gallagher couldn't be angry, he had to take in the other's feelings as well━━ whatever they were, it wasn't like he knew Sunday well enough.

"Yeah, if it's not any trouble." He almost wanted to say that they could use the toilet if the floor wasn't ok, but held his tongue. Though he felt bad he was going to make the other man uncomfortable, he wore such pristine clothes.

He wanted to apologize, but he stopped himself when he watched Sunday remove coat, yeah that could easily get dirty...

Watching him sit down and get as comfortable as he could, he noted his outstretched hand, eyes softening as they still teared up as he struggled with his anxiety, hand still holding his shirt close.

There was a metal hook on the back of the stall door, Gallagher reached for the man as he stood up, moving forward, and touched the coat. "Can I take that? I'll hang it up." He offered, not pulling the coat until Sunday said he could. In his reach though, it had been his hand holding his shirt closed. His chest was directly in Sunday's line of sight but Gallagher was too focused on taking the coat━━ helping the man. It lessened his anxiety a little.

[orphiicheartd]

           ・⊱ Sunday's eyes widened, wings flapping lightly as he felt his face warm.

           "My...lap?"

           His mouth opened and closed, once twice, then lips pursed the more he'd think over the suggestion.

           Holding Gallagher now was one thing, but doing so on the floor? Though he was right, it wasn't as though it'd be all that comfortable seated on the toilet, but still...still...!

           The pristine, light-colored coat of his would most definitely be dirtied, and in such a way he highly doubted would be able to be fixed before they'd have to leave. That was without mentioning what sorts of skin crawling sensations he might have to deal with in the process. Though...he supposed Gallagher himself would help keep his mind off all that when it came down to it. Mostly. Probably.

           Regardless, he did fully intend to do anything and everything necessary to help him, so...

           "Alright."

           ...with that thought, he steeled himself, then removed his outer coat.

           The pale grey pants he had on were most certainly going to need cleaning after this. And were most likely going to be so rumpled ( the whole of his clothes probably would be too, augh- ) he might need to take extra time to ensure they’d be spotless later ( thank the Aeons all his appointments for the day had been taken care of- ), but…well, better for the pants to be dirtied than his longer, white coat, that was for sure-

           Sunday drew a deep breath, carefully holding the white coat to his chest as he lowered himself to the ground ( miraculously not outwardly wincing as much as he'd feared he would ), taking a seat in a way he knew would at least be comfortable to hold the other in. Once he felt sure enough of himself ( and managed to take his mind off the mess he was making of his clothes ), he let out a long exhale then gazed up at Gallagher.

           How odd to be to the one looking up at someone now-

           A hand reached out.

           “Well? Are you going to join me, Mi...G-Gallagher?”

★ ━━━━━━ He sat there, in silence as his eyes were glued to the floor, waiting for Sunday's answer. There was no pressure to give anything quickly, they had all night, though it was strange for Gallagher to leave his bar. His absence was important... he needed time with Sunday, doing... whatever this was.

( Cursing him... ) that'd give Gallagher little satisfaction, he didn't like crude language unless absolutely necessary, and this was not the time.

( Tuning. ) Something he knew Sunday's race to do, have the ability to... do whatever he said. Gallagher had no inkling to ask that, what he dealt with was his shame, his dysphoria. Someone as breathtakingly handsome as Sunday shouldn't know.

( His coat; ) since Gallagher had left his damp garments on the floor near the sinks. Gallagher about chuckled at that.

The last option though... was something Gallagher craved, though he felt like it was so very rude to ask. Heart pounding he finally lifted his eyes to look at Sunday.

His cheeks were red, and his grip went slack a little on his shirt. Licking his lips he blurted. "Can I sit in your lap? I know that the bathroom floor is dirty but I'm not sure another's weight would be comfortable on the John so..." Would Sunday even recognize that he was excited in a way? Just maybe he would and act without Gallagher having to be more embarrassed spelling it out.

"And, stop being so polite. Drop the Mr. please, I'm not that old."

[orphiicheartd]

           ・⊱ Lips moved, words to the Hymn of Charmonic Strings spilling past them, barely above a whisper. It was something at the very least to keep his mind off the nervousness yet bubbling in his chest while he awaited the other man's answer.

           Especially since the longer he didn't hear from Gallagher, the more unease would only continue fester in him. A hand began to almost blindly reached for the door handle, wincing a slight as the attempted action had him stumbling over his words.

           Was Gallagher that upset with him? Perhaps he'd taken offense of Sunday thinking he could help him. He was the reason Gallagher wound up in such an awkward situation after all. And that was putting it rather lightly-

           "Hn–?" Sunday's head lifted fast in hearing the other's request.

           Stay.

           Well, that was certainly a relief. Sure, this situation was far too much out of his own control for him to be in any way all that confident or comfortable here ( though that wasn't Gallagher's fault, Sunday felt; it wasn't Gallagher's fault that Sunday never did all that well with such sudden expected turns in situations after all ), but at least he could be able to keep trying to fix this. That much, he could appreciate. It was far better to be able to take up the responsibility for his mistakes and fix them in the moment, than wait any longer and let the effects of his blunder linger-

           "Ah–right."

           His hand released the door handle, clasping the other as he waited for Gallagher to move, then swiftly followed.

           Right–however unsure of himself he felt here, Gallagher trusted Sunday to still stay and help. That mattered more than his own nervousness and uncertainty. So, whatever it took to make things right, he would ensure it done, no matter how difficult it may be for him to manage. It was his responsibility to ensure each and every resident of the dream was happy and comfortable, and Gallagher, as much as the man usually got under his skin, was certainly no exception. He owed him that much, now.

           Once inside the stall, he shut the door behind him, moving to fasten the lock, just for a little extra privacy. With that, he remained with his back close to ( certainly not pressing against ) the door. His gaze flickered around Gallagher, unsure where to let it linger before he shook his head and let it finally settle on the man's face.

           "What do you need me to do?"

           Maybe...a tuning to start ought to work? He could help Gallagher calm a little more with that, if anything. Or-

★ ━━━━━━ There he had been, in front of a mirror. Most people would just be rude as fuck and say 'yes, I did see your BOOBS' and call him gross━━ Not a man... or something. He had dealt with it growing up, and had thought himself past it, though one really never got over dysphoria, it stayed near like a thorn in his side, in the back of his mind.

He could NEVER truly pass for a man, even with his limited facial hair, the way he dressed, how he had trained his voice, even being on hormones. But he so desperately wished to TRY. Surgery was too much for him to pay, and he didn't want to put anyone out asking for help, so he had just gotten a reduction in tissue━━ Though it clearly wasn't enough as he had rushed into the stall, near a panic attack.

Gallagher hadn't meant for it to happen... He hadn't been ready, maybe down the line he would've told Sunday... Shown him when he was more comfortable, but now the cat was out of the bag.

Stomach doing flips, he felt sick and remembered he had to pee, and hurriedly pulled his pants down, sitting on the toilet. Gosh, it was one thing to have someone he liked SEE him when he hadn't been ready at all... It was another to have them HEAR him sitting to have to use the bathroom. How humiliating.

Sunday was asking what he should do. It made Gallagher more freaked, and his wrung his shirt in his hands. He needed someone, of course he did, but there was no one to call. He didn't want to pull his boss into it, he'd potentially loose his job━━ There were probably other customers waiting on him... money he was losing.

"Stay." He finally said, finishing and doing what he needed to pull his pants back up. There was a flush, and Gallagher had a few moments peace as the water swirled in the bowl and zipped down into the pipes.

"You've seen, you're OBLIGATED to help me." ━━There's no one to call, was what he wanted to add, but that'd make him seem clingy. "Handicap stall, now." Slowly, he unlocked the door, and stepped out. He made another beeline for the stall at the back of the bathroom, large enough to contain more than a few people. He didn't wait for Sunday, but figured he'd come and went in, putting the toilet seat down and sitting again; his shirt was still clutched to his chest.

[orphiicheartd]

           ・⊱ Sunday had to admit he'd found himself momentarily rooted in place when he'd entered the room. Careless, foolish--in the midst of his eager planning ahead for once he'd greet Gallagher in crossing the threshold, the door had slipped from his fingers the moment his eyes had set upon the other, gazes met in the reflection.

           Really, he shouldn't be so caught up in it. He couldn't recall the last time he'd been left so stunned by something, he ought to have had more of a handle on his composure now of all times.

           And yet-

           "Ah-"

           Sunday felt himself stumble back fast the moment the other had moved, snapped right out of his state as his back hit the door with a harsh thud, a hand clamping over his mouth.

           Wings curled in over his face at the yell, made out just past the hammering of his heartbeat as he'd manage to choke out a, "I didn't-"

                                                              Wait, don't lie.

                      You hate lying-

           "I didn't see much. Your...back is very broad."

                      Right like that in any way comforting-

           Sunday's eyes scrunched shut, face burning as his wings twitched flapped, once, twice, before he let out a shaky exhale.

           "Regardless, I'm...I-'m very sorry, Mr. Gallagher. I shouldn't have intruded on you like this."

           What was he to do in a situation like this? Of many things, he had indeed been trained to take care of, but a situation like this was not one of them, not in the least.

           Should he leave?

           But would it be right to leave him alone like this? He sounded so shaken, maybe he'd need tuning to settle down? Who better than him to handle that then, right?

           Or...would that make it worse? Tuning was always far easier on a more agreeable target, or at least one more trusting. For all he knew, the other could be in such a state that one small slip up would truly make more of a mess than this already was. What to do...?

           "Would...would you like for me to leave you be? Or...call someone for you?"

★ ━━━━━━ Footsteps were rushed as he pushed open the door to the MEN'S room, having sprinted first to the break room for his extra shirt; his hands still shaking as one of them clutched the bundle of napkins he had taken from the bar to wipe himself off.

━What a move. His cheeks still burned as he started to remove things, his vest unhooked around his front as he slipped it off and hung on a steel hook nearby ( usually for suit jackets when someone didn't want to rumple their wear taking a piss. )

His foot tapped on the floor, making a rhythm as he removed more, the straps around his shoulders and neck that held the small cape at his back the next to detach, luckily they weren't wet. Unbuttoning his shirt ( that could barely contain his swole chest ) he wiped a little better and sighed.

Scratching his chin, Gallagher slipped out of his shirt, now standing half naked in the bathroom, sure he could have gone into one of the stalls, but his urge to pee had lessened and he could wait until he was redressed. "What a damn idiot..." He muttered, as the bathroom door opened, he didn't notice.

Though he was very well built, his body was what he hid. His chest was not a man's, he was not birthed one, but there had always been the desire to live as one━ and so when he had the chance, he had taken it. His breast bore some scars, but was rightly female, as much as he tried to make it seem otherwise.

His nipples were erect from the cold water, and they hurt a bit, he cursed. Stretching his arms to pull on his clean shirt, Gallagher caught movement behind him by way of the mirror. It was Sunday, and he froze a second before pulling his shirt to his chest and whipping into the closest stall, locking the door. He could barely breathe. "How much did you see?" He hollered. He couldn't handle it right now, his dysphoria was like a weight on his shoulders, telling him he was disgusting, but it had been his choice not to get top surgery━ it was easier...

[orphiicheartd]

           ・⊱ Not one touch. Not one touch, yet Sunday couldn't help feeling a slight shiver with the other's gaze trained on him. He was no stranger to the stares of others, naturally, compliments on his looks were a dime a dozen too. But this…well, he always did pride himself so highly on the maintenance and beauty of his feathers. To have them admired so intently…

           What was Gallagher thinking? Did he truly like them that much? Was that what his fascination was all about?

           Maybe...maybe he ought to prying into the other's mind. Just a little. If he liked his wings so much, why hold that back, right? Maybe he might offer him a little more leniency regarding them if he liked it enough—

           "Ah-"

           —though any attempt was quickly shattered at the other's outburst. And...apparent blunder, oh, goodness-

           Eyes widened, darting across the other's chest, over torso, the countertop, his chest, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as he tried to speak, and...then he was alone.

           A gloved hand covered his mouth as he sat down on one of the stools, then covered his face. What was he even doing...?

           Maybe he ought to take this moment to be on his way. A nice retreat now while he still had the chance would certainly help him recompose himself a lot better than an open place like this. On the other hand...well, Gallagher did say he a spare shirt and all, so he had ample time to do just that right here. But...

           ...but could he be SURE it would be the same kind as the original? That he would ensure it matched properly to the rest of his outfit? Stars, would he leave it untucked and unbuttoned like always???

           Sunday stood up.

           Well...well, he COULD just go check on him to make sure. And order someone to fetch a far more suitable replacement, maybe even make sure Gallagher had his uniform fixed up properly when he came back to the front.

           Yes! That was a perfectly logical explanation and reason to go after him now. He wasn't worried about the man's frantic departure in the least, he was just...making sure he came back presentable, is all, When would he have another chance to at the very least fix that unkempt appearance, after all? Even if Gallagher'd simply go right back on his usual the next time around, but still...!

           With that thought in mind, Sunday reached for and downed the rest of his drink then took off after the drinksmith.

★ ━━━━━━ When such light laughter sounded from Sunday, the mixologist couldn't keep his cheeks from darkening further shades of red. Gallagher was smitten, maybe it was just an effect the winged one had on people?

Handling his icy glass, he chewed on his straw more in energy, and a little bit of nerves━ why he felt nervous he wasn't sure, the hair on the back of his neck pricked when Sunday turned his head.

Gallagher's eyes were trained on the jewelry, fascinated that it wasn't so much an ear that had been pierced but a wing━ the feathers looked cloud-like... soft. His free hand upon the bar twitched, fingers working into a very loose fist.

Gallagher's ears were virgin, but he sometimes thought of getting them done. Sunday made it seem alright, it was pretty on him. Maybe he could get another body area pierced...

He wanted to reach. The fingers of his right hand would touch━ though he hadn't asked, and so he pushed the compulsive thought down.

Did that answer his question? Yes. But he wanted more, maybe another drink he shouldn't have.

He picked up his water, taking a drink without the straw, but in a stroke of dumb luck━ unluck, missed his mouth and spilled water down his front, on skin. "FUCK!" He was so stupid... maybe he didn't need that second drink? He shivered as he groped beneath the bar for napkins, his exposed chest dripping straight down his shirt to his navel.

"I'll... be right back, I have a spare shirt." Get to the bathroom, it'll be okay. He was embarrassed as he fled, he also had to actually GO to the bathroom too, thanks to his fuck up.

[orphiicheartd]

           ・⊱ His eyes lingered on the other with almost rapt attention, watching the little movements of the man's lips and jaw, for a brief moment before he cleared his throat. Or scoffed out a laugh, it honestly could have been either or-

           “Ha—well, at least you’re honest.” That seemed to be a satisfactory answer, enough that the expression yet lingering on Sunday’s face shifted from a more haughty, guarded facade to let show hints of amusement.

           Well, there weren’t enough patrons around to really be of any concern, so—

           “If you must know, they can be.”

           —perhaps a little educating wouldn’t hurt.

           He tilted his head just so, showing off the glinting gold studs on his left wing.

           “You would have simply hated to have been in the room when I’d gotten these done.” A rather stupid act of rebellion during his youth he'd had a Bloodhound take care of, if he were honest. He remembered how terribly it had hurt having the little appendage pierced in such a manner he'd seen certain performing Halovians of the Iris Family have, no matter how lovely he thought it. Gopher Wood had allowed them to remain with much scolding in the end, having deemed the pain he'd gone punishment enough and the reminder a fitting lesson. He himself would yet yet insist they were lovely, even if both thankful and miffed his right wing remained untouched, but still-

           "Of course, that is a rather extreme example." A hand moved to gently brush along his feathers as he began to straighten up, lips pursing a slight at the sensation. "A touch like this, for instance, wouldn't be enough to truly rend an entirely adverse reaction."

           Though he also knew it had to be different, letting them be touch by others compared to touching them himself. Most others didn't know to be careful, how gentle they ought TO touch, or where to avoid any overt sensations. And then there was the matter of if said foreign touch and his own body's hyper-awareness of that might in fact make it all the more sensitive even if they were careful. But that was neither here nor there. Not like he'd let just anyone touch them to find out after all. Not that anyone was really mad enough to ask- "Was that answer to your satisfaction?"

★ ━━━━━━ Now, it wasn't really standard, or even ALLOWED for bartenders to drink behind their base of operations, but it was ONE drink; gloved fingers were already busy slipping around a fresh glass, filling it with crushed ice ( that he had crushed himself the day before ) and then water.

He was very proud of his body and everything it took him to maintain it; his temple, even if it was a bit... disheveled and frumpy━ but he was handsomely frumpy. Not many people actually knew his most intimate of secrets, and part of him wanted it to stay that way━ unless he had some sort of MEANINGFUL experience or relationship... which of something Sunday was tugging on his heartstrings, and it was actually a good feeling.

His eyes were locked onto the other, and Gallagher had a small desire to reach over, cup that soft-looking cheek and press his lips━

He took a few sips of his water, the cold a good wakeup for his system. He was being bold, an astute observation, perhaps those appendages weren't a huge topic for discussion, but Gallagher was INTENSELY curious. ━do they hurt when bitten? Was something he desperately wanted to ask, but it wasn't the time or place.

Watching Sunday take in a mouthful of the drink he had prepared, his cheeks flushed... so much for composure. "Maybe it's a little of both?" He tilted his head, nibbling at the thin black straw he had pushed into his water.

[orphiicheartd]

           ・⊱ if it had been Robin in his stead, she surely would have known what to do now. She always excelled in comforting and reassuring others, be it in words or gestures. Or with her lovely song, a solace as good, or even better than, tuning, in his eyes. Sunday? It wasn’t like his interactions tended to require any need of that, he mostly spent his time in his office working or in talks with other Family heads or members of said Families.

           The most he could say that came anywhere near the act of actively comforting others while on duty, he would reckon listening to the confessions of visitor and Penaconians alike could be something similar. But that...well, he couldn't be all that sure Gallagher would see it that way.

           What could he even say? 'Feeling sad? Upset? Beseech the Great One of Paradise for their blessing and Harmony for peace of self and mind-'—that was probably the last thing Gallagher wanted to hear right now. Not to mention the cause of Gallgher's current problem wasn't even himself, wasn't it? It was Sunday's fault, right? If anything, he should be the one clamoring for Xipe's forgiveness in causing the man such discord now!

           Although-

           “Well...you could curse me for stumbling upon you, if it would make you feel better. I'll allow it.” He resisted the urge to wince—that…didn’t sound as joking as he would have liked it to. Damn it- “Ah—I’m a good listener, after all, so, might as well-" Okay he really needed to drop that now-

           Sunday cleared his throat and shook his head.

           “Or, if you’re willing, I could tune you,” he began again. “Ah, you’d need to trust me to get into your head a little and ‘manually’ change your emotions to something...calmer, or perhaps happier?” Though Sunday absolutely understood if Gallagher would feel uncomfortable with such a thing. Especially since he might 'see' how the incident just now happened from Gallagher’s eyes, to feel what he felt in the moment- “I can also…offer you my coat?” It wasn’t tailored to be truly form-fitting ( no, that was a bit too scandalous for his personal wear ), but with it being made to Sunday’s measurements even still...maybe it’d be a bit too tight on the man in the process. He was a lot more built than him after all- “And…I can’t say I’m all that well-versed in any physical comforts, nor of it would be appropriate to offer at this time, but if it would help…” Many did find touch to be a grounding sort of comfort, he’d heard. A held hand seemed to be rather popular. And Robin always did love a nice reassuring pat on the head or an embrace, as did he, but…yeah, okay, maybe that wasn’t the most proper solution here, all things considered. Still...well, that wasn't up to him to decide, right?

           “Do…any of those suggestions suffice so far, Mr. Gallagher?”

★ ━━━━━━ That was just IT, he didn't know what he wanted at that moment. Just that having Sunday there was so much better than being alone... so much better than breaking down and crying with no one around.

His chest felt tight, and a few tears finally slipped down his face. Gallagher wasn't one to display emotions as he was, but he felt like it'd only benefit his relationship with Sunday after what the other had walked in on.

The shirt covering his chest was clasped tight closed in one hand, the fabric so tight on either side that his nipples could be seen underneath, Gallagher knew this, but wasn't sure how long it'd take for his body to calm down. After spilling the water and then the shock and embarrassment of being seen, Gallagher truly hated himself, though his body was shamefully aroused slightly by being caught by someone he liked; had a crush on.

He was usually so aloof, able to swing wherever, and just kind of go with the flow, being himself. But with his secret exposed, if only ever to one person, his facade was shattered.

"I have no idea what I need. I've never been in this situation." Truthful, yet not telling the whole truth his cheeks darkened as he spoke, staring at the floor instead of the figure in front of the stall door. His knees, that were usually spread wide when he sat, were tucked together, and shaking a little. "How do you want to help?" Really he wanted to ask Sunday to do certain things... but they hadn't even known one another for long, so it'd be awkward, though any action to help distract from his turbulent mind was welcome, Gallagher just hated to ask.