William isn’t surprised when he walks in on Pete & Gabe making out on the couch.
After all, Pete’s a whore and Gabe is very pretty. And they’d been staring at each other funny all week. But still, he’s pissed. Not in a i-hate-you kind of way, but more of a well-fuck-you, as even if he’d almost expected it, the sight is pretty unnerving. Because, yeah, Gabe’s kind of a whore too. But he’s meant to be William’s whore.
He coughs.
The couple break apart, wild eyes and messed up hair betraying what they’d been doing even if Bill hadn’t seen it. Pete goes stiff and silent, gaze dropping to the floor. Gabe can’t seem to be able to speak. So, to remove himself from this equation, William walks across the room, taking delicate steps to further himself from them. He can feel their animalistic eyes on his back but finds his bedroom quickly and locks the door behind him.
The music’s up loud when, hair messed up and tear tracks down his face, William hears Patrick come home. He turns the stereo off. He hears him going to his own bedroom, and hears Patrick’s voice suddenly too loud for the house through the thin walls, hears Patrick shouting, “Get the fuck out of my bed, Gabriel fucking Saporta!”, and Gabe saying, “What the fuck, Pete, you guys didn’t break up first?” and Pete not saying anything.
Gabe calls him later that night, after the shouting has stopped (for the time being), and says “Are you pissed?”
“Its not like we were together or anything.” Were they? William finds he can’t remember.
“I-I thought they’d broken up first, y’know. And Patrick was never there. I assumed…”
William decides he doesn’t want to hear Gabe whining anymore. He says “bye,” and hangs up.
Its lonely, for the first two days. He doesn’t want to leave for fear of seeing anyone, for fear of having to talk. He stays on the couch, eyes glued to the television ‘though nothing’s sinking through. He tries to forget he walked in on Pete and Gabe, who were sitting just… here. And all the time around him, Pete&Patrick are splitting like an atom.
They’re breaking down each other and everybody else, their spirits crushed. More than once all William can hear are the pair sobbing, on opposites sides of the room & the world in their heartbreak.
William’s heart breaks with them, until the screaming starts again. Everyone’s (William’s) eardrums are willing to burst. He wants to hide, to sink into the sofa cushions.
He’s pulled into the fray, too. Pete, in the frenzy of the moment, blames William for even bringing Gabe into his life. William just throws a swear word at him. Patrick blames him for not caring enough when he walked in on the pair together, and Bill has nothing to say in return.
The third day Gabe knocks on the door, and for the first ten minutes William ignores him. Patrick’s asleep; Pete’s listening to loud music in the opposite side of the house.
William’s spread out on the floor, reading the newspaper and trying to be dignified in silence when Pete walks through. He pauses, confused. “Why aren’t you getting that?”
He rolls over. “It’s Gabe.” His eyes are stony as he stares Pete down. He’s not sure whether he’s forgiven him or not. Pete’s face goes curiously blank, and he shakes his head abruptly before leaving the room.
And just like that, William’s furious. He waits until Pete’s gone, and then he wrenches the front door open. He’s being childish, he knows; doing the opposite to what Pete’s asked simply to irritate him, but he doesn’t care. Peter Wentz does not have the right to tell William what to do. But he’s still pretty pissed with Gabe, so when he answers the door he asks, “Do you want to speak to me or Pete?”
Gabe looks, to be honest, pretty crap. He’s certainly nailed the look of regret. “You, of course.”
There’s shouting in Pete & Patrick’s bedroom. William looks over his shoulder and back at Gabe, biting his lip. Eventually he grabs him by the collar of his shirt and pulls him along, into his bedroom – it’s the only private place in this house (William tries not to remember what they used to do on this bed).
“I’m so sorry, Billy. He just-,”
William rests his hands on his hips and glares. Gabe trails off. “You have no right to be talking to me, let alone making excuses.” William shakes his head, more as a negation to himself than Gabe. Because he’s gone all righteous, and that’s not what he wanted. Gabe wasn’t – he wasn’t special. He was just someone William used to try and push away the loneliness with, someone to keep him warm at nights.
But Gabe – Gabe always takes things to heart. There are tears in his eyes. William ignores them.
Because after the last two days, it’s easy to start shouting. He doesn’t shout in anger, or even pretend he’s ever cared. He just wants Gabe to be sorry, really sorry.
After its over, completely over, William flops down on the bed and stares at the ceiling. Then he shuts his eyes. Opens them again. Can’t believe he just flipped out at Gabe.
But he seems to be genuinely upset. He sits down at the edge of the bed and stares at his feet. “I’m sorry.” He twists his body, awkwardly positioning himself so he’s lying next to William. “I love you.”
And then Gabe leans over and kisses him. William half-heartedly responds. Because, while the kiss did say i’m-sorry, it didn’t say i-love-you. Should it matter? William goes to grab Gabe’s shoulder, to push him away or pull him closer, he’s not sure, but he gets Gabe’s hair instead. Gabe’s hand takes up residence somewhere between William’s collarbone and the crook of his neck, and Wililam’s about to throw caution to the wind when there’s a crash as Patrick’s glass falls to the floor and shatters.
For a second there is pure hatred in those blue eyes, and then everything disappears into firey madness beneath eyelids pulled tight over tears. When they open, he seems like somebody else.
He pulls Gabe off the bed, and William jerks upright. Is Patrick gonna hit him? No; all he does is yank Gabe step by painful step towards the front door, and eventually slam it in his face. “Patrick, what the fuck?” He asks. Because he’s been feeling lonely in the dark nights.
Patrick glares. “You forgave him?” Pete’s standing in the doorway to the kitchen, biting his lip. He seems to understand that Patrick isn’t really talking about William&Gabe anymore, but of Patrick&Pete. “How could you do that?” William's not sure whether Patrick's asking for help or guilt-tripping him.
William doesn’t want to reply (with the truth, anyway). If he does, they’ll understand how fucked up he is. “He was sorry, Pat. I figured it wasn’t that important.” It’s a shot in the dark, but Patrick seems to have taken it. He steps back, shock in his eyes as he glances over William’s shoulder towards Pete.
Already he’s feeling guilty for saying it as he’s flying down the stairs after Pete, hoping to catch him. He does, just as Gabe is getting into his car. “Wait!” He calls out (a cliché, but a must). Gabe grins. “Hi, Bill.”
He sure doesn’t look remorseful now, William thinks. “I-Sorry about that. They haven’t been doing so well.” The i’m-sorry look doesn’t return. Instead, Gabe steps forwards, and once his hand has caught William’s, he leans over and kisses him.
William feels sick. He steps away. “I’m sorry.” He whispers, but brushes a last kiss on Gabe’s cheek. The kiss tastes not of i’m-sorry, but of goodbye.
He’s pretty sure Gabe can taste it too; at least, he’s gone before William can say any more.
He trudges back up the stairs.
He’s lonely again.
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Author's Comments
tis gabilliam, with a wee bit of peterick. over xmas i kinda fell in love with both cobra starship and the academy is... and this was the result of that. (:
be warned; i don't own them. |
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Comments
but it was sad, too D:
anyway, i loved it <3
--
Yellow Flowers and Fish.
And all I know is when I move away, my heart will stay in this midwestern state.
i've got troubled thoughts && the self esteem to match.
hats for Pat! <3
I love the way it's written.
And I want more.
--
"Hector...? Y-you...your face...what..."
"Ryan...you made me beautiful."
--
Why? WHY?! Because I'm an EMO RANGER. That's why. GO GO EMO RANGERZZZZ~!
--
I like it >:3
I feel bad for poor Patrick, though.
He's really trying
So it Pete.
--
Hell or glory
I don't want anything in between
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