Archive of Our Own

The hatch closes in silence, the vacuum of outer space absorbing any sound. Gally can still feel vibrations, though. Yet, he spares no glance back at Lawrence through the low glass behind him.

Gally doesn't need to use his telescope to see the passing ship today. It glints and reflects the sun's faint light. His heart racing, he pulls off his safety cord, body reverberating with excitement.

This is it. For the first time in his life, he is doing something for himself. He isn't letting Lawrence leech off of him any longer and jurisdict his life.

His feet lift an inch from the metal ground he'd grown up calling home.

His breath is fogging up his helmet from how hard he is breathing.

His eyes find him.

M-I-N-H-O. Every day, the boy passed by, and Gally could always see him beyond a smudged pane of thick glass. A short while ago, he'd shown simple actions with his hands for almost a week straight. This lead to five days of Gally squinting to the skies and repeating the actions himself until they were engraved into his near memory.

He'd been twisting his fingers and fisting his hands non-stop until he'd worked out the code.

Letters.

Three fingers across his palm—

His index tapping his middle finger—

Two fingers across his palm—

Hands brushing together—

His index tapping his ring finger.

Letters.

And Gally had worked them out.

He can't contain himself, grinning when he sees the outline of Minho stood on the outside of his own craft. Gally wants to run to him, embrace him, ask him how to spell his own name. All these things whir around in his head until Lawrence's fist colliding over and over with the glass becomes indifferent with the rest of his surroundings.

Calculating his timing, Gally beats his legs down against the metal.

The few seconds of free-fall gliding through space do wonders to his nerves, making them spark with a newfound energy.

He has either dived astoundingly quickly, or is in Minho's arms prematurely.

They crash into one another and Gally feels everything life lets you feel. Shock and disbelief, but also relief, and joy. The collision does make them both tremble, but they have each other, and that's stable enough for them. The solar system must have enjoyed their crash-course too, because light catches Minho's face and Gally truly believes the boy is divine, and that he's been dealt into the hands of a god.

Gally's breathing hitches and he grabs Minho's forearms tightly, coming to the realisation that neither of them are stood on a solid floor.

Minho appears as confused as he feels, but all of Gally's anxiety melts away when he sees right into Minho's eyes.

They are nice. He prefers them more than his pod. They provide the warmth his bedroom never could.

His face inches closer to the wall of his helmet, and Minho's does the same. The space between them is frustrating, a gap neither of them can cross without great repercussions. Gally's brow furrows, gaze scanning Minho's face. He mouths the letters slowly, "M. I. N. H. O?"

Light sparkles in Minho's eyes and he nods eagerly, holding Gally tighter. He points at Gally, tapping his chest. Gally frowns, then bites his lip hard to keep himself together. He can barely read this language, not speak it.

Nodding in understanding, Minho opens his mouth but his attention is stolen from Gally. Gally follows his eyeline first out of jealousy, however then feels his stomach sink. They are approaching Earth's atmosphere at an alarming rate. A second ago, his heart had signed itself up to the fate of orbiting the planet forever with Minho close, but he sees that their time is abruptly nearing its end. And Minho doesn't even know his name.

Gally squeezes Minho tighter to him, panic setting in. He'd been stupid. Lawrence was right—

A gloved and masked hand tilts his face away from the deep pool of blues and greys and suddenly, Gally wonders why he ever looked away from Minho in the first place. There are constellations on the boy's face, galaxies in his irises and an entire new universe in his small smile alone.

The panic vanishes quicker than it formed, all of it bleeding away the more Minho cups his helmet.

Hooking his ankles around Minho's, Gally tangles himself with the shorter stranger.

They brace for the flames. Possibly the impact too, if they ever make it that far.

Down on Earth, a lone passer by stops to admire a shooting star, before continuing their walk.