[FIC] There's Gotta Be Somebody Who Understands.
There's Gotta Be Somebody Who Understands.
Gabe/William, William/Tom, implied Tom/Jon.
Gabe’s already expecting the slam of the door, yet he still jumps when it comes.
It’s William. It’s always William.
Gabe’s already expecting the slam of the door, yet he still jumps when it comes.
It’s William. It’s always William.
“He’s just… god Gabe, I don’t know, how does he get to me like this?” William launches straight into the rant, and while Gabe knows he should be paying attention, this isn’t the first time he’s heard this speech. Hell, it’s not the first time he’s heard this speech today.
He concentrates instead on watching William as he paces around the room, hands gesticulating as he talks, his whole body tense, and there’s something about his whole demeanour that screams of a kind of nervous desperation. Gabe just wants to grab him by the waist, pull him down so he’s still, make him listen, but he also know his part in this drama - he has to watch as William winds himself tighter and tighter before he goes running back to Tom and they reunite. He’d never been a conscious accomplice, not in the beginning, but now he’s beginning to see a pattern. Maybe not a pattern, not as innocent, but more of an invitation, something in the way the anger and despair twists into something more and it ends in William looking at him with hungry eyes and seeking Gabe’s touch almost unconsciously.
Every night he writes it off. He has to.
Tonight however, there’s something in the way he’s behaving, and Gabe suddenly realises the distress is real. When William comes to him normally he’s angry, but this time, he’s genuinely hurt by whatever it is has gone on.
“And I’m pretty sure they’d been kissing… Gabe, are you even listening to me?”
He hadn’t been, but at that moment he’d decided the whole situation had become a little more interesting. It wasn’t that he hadn’t cared before, far from it, it was just over the past year he’d been accustomed to writing most of what William said in these moments basically as him being a drama queen - he’d never thought there was anything truly serious behind it. But now William thinks Tom’s cheating?
“Yeah, of course, just zoned out for a little bit. What’d you say?”
William collapses on to the bed, seemingly having lost the energy to stand, and repeats what he’d said before, about walking in to their hotel room and finding Jon and Tom sitting a little too close, guiltily he was sure, about the way Jon had smoothed down his hair and walked out pretty quickly, and how the argument between them had seem unavoidable after that.
“I mean, it’s not like I go around kissing my best friend, is it?” he asks, looking up at Gabe with eyes that are just a little too innocent.
“I’m sure it could be arranged,” Gabe replies, not realising until too late that a flippant remark like that might be fine out in the parking lot or when they’re waiting backstage, but it’s a lot more meaningful in a hotel room that means there’s little to no chance of any interruption.
William sits up slowly, drawing himself almost level with Gabe. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he says, slow and deliberate, and damn, if that doesn’t just send a shiver right down Gabe’s spine.
“I’m not,” Gabe replies, using the same seductive tone, and yes, this might be wrong, William’s hurt and angry at Tom, probably not thinking straight, but William’s reaching up and playing with the hair at the nape of Gabe’s neck, saying “Prove it,” in a tone that would tempt a saint, and Gabe was no angel to begin with.
The first touch of their lips is tentative, like they’re both sure the other will see sense and back away, end this thing before it starts. However, when they realise neither of them is going to back down it turns harsh and intense, William pushing Gabe back on to the bed and climbing on top of him without breaking the kiss for a second.
Gabe’s mind is stubbornly refusing to comprehend anything further than the fact he is currently underneath William, William fucking Beckett with that hair, those eyes, those hips, who is kissing him, all clever mouth, tangled tongues and wandering hands.
That is until there’s a knock on the door.
Gabe is all for ignoring it and carrying on with this line of events, but when the person on the other side starts yelling, both he and William stop dead.
“Bill,” the person says, and it’s fucking Tom, that’s just how Gabe’s life goes, “Bill, I know you’re in there. Come out and we can try talk about this like we’re fucking adults.”
Gabe studiously avoids looking at William, watching him make up his mind, knowing what, or more to the point who, he’ll choose.
“Sorry,” he whispers, going to get up, but Gabe grabs the front of his shirt, his words soft and urgent.
“Fine, go. Just come back to me when this gets too much, when the thought of this, of you and I, won’t leave your mind. When you wake up maybe weeks from now and you find yourself already reaching out to call me, just to hear my voice. Come back when this becomes the most exquisite kind of torture. Because trust me, it will.”
William looks away and stands up, straightening himself out before walking to the door. “Goodbye Gabe,” he says, voice a little cooler than usual.
**
Three weeks later Gabe’s sitting in a bar somewhere out east when William slides into the booth, right next to him, expression dark and wild.
“What have you done to me?” he asks desperately, struggling to stay in control.
“Wouldn’t know what you mean,” Gabe says casually, taking another drink without ever looking in William’s direction.
“Yes you do,” William responds, voice strained, “You know exactly what I mean. I can’t think of anything but you and it’s making me push Tom away. I’m engineering fights where there should be none, saying no where I should be saying yes, where I should be wanting to say yes. But all I can think about is you and that one kiss, that one stupid, incredible kiss. This is torture Gabe, and I don’t think I can stand it any longer.”
A small smile graces Gabe’s lips before his expression resumes its previous impassive state.
He turns to William then, eyes burning, betraying him as he responds to William’s impassioned speech.
“Now you know how I’ve been feeling since the day I met you.”
Gabe/William, William/Tom, implied Tom/Jon.
Gabe’s already expecting the slam of the door, yet he still jumps when it comes.
It’s William. It’s always William.
Gabe’s already expecting the slam of the door, yet he still jumps when it comes.
It’s William. It’s always William.
“He’s just… god Gabe, I don’t know, how does he get to me like this?” William launches straight into the rant, and while Gabe knows he should be paying attention, this isn’t the first time he’s heard this speech. Hell, it’s not the first time he’s heard this speech today.
He concentrates instead on watching William as he paces around the room, hands gesticulating as he talks, his whole body tense, and there’s something about his whole demeanour that screams of a kind of nervous desperation. Gabe just wants to grab him by the waist, pull him down so he’s still, make him listen, but he also know his part in this drama - he has to watch as William winds himself tighter and tighter before he goes running back to Tom and they reunite. He’d never been a conscious accomplice, not in the beginning, but now he’s beginning to see a pattern. Maybe not a pattern, not as innocent, but more of an invitation, something in the way the anger and despair twists into something more and it ends in William looking at him with hungry eyes and seeking Gabe’s touch almost unconsciously.
Every night he writes it off. He has to.
Tonight however, there’s something in the way he’s behaving, and Gabe suddenly realises the distress is real. When William comes to him normally he’s angry, but this time, he’s genuinely hurt by whatever it is has gone on.
“And I’m pretty sure they’d been kissing… Gabe, are you even listening to me?”
He hadn’t been, but at that moment he’d decided the whole situation had become a little more interesting. It wasn’t that he hadn’t cared before, far from it, it was just over the past year he’d been accustomed to writing most of what William said in these moments basically as him being a drama queen - he’d never thought there was anything truly serious behind it. But now William thinks Tom’s cheating?
“Yeah, of course, just zoned out for a little bit. What’d you say?”
William collapses on to the bed, seemingly having lost the energy to stand, and repeats what he’d said before, about walking in to their hotel room and finding Jon and Tom sitting a little too close, guiltily he was sure, about the way Jon had smoothed down his hair and walked out pretty quickly, and how the argument between them had seem unavoidable after that.
“I mean, it’s not like I go around kissing my best friend, is it?” he asks, looking up at Gabe with eyes that are just a little too innocent.
“I’m sure it could be arranged,” Gabe replies, not realising until too late that a flippant remark like that might be fine out in the parking lot or when they’re waiting backstage, but it’s a lot more meaningful in a hotel room that means there’s little to no chance of any interruption.
William sits up slowly, drawing himself almost level with Gabe. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he says, slow and deliberate, and damn, if that doesn’t just send a shiver right down Gabe’s spine.
“I’m not,” Gabe replies, using the same seductive tone, and yes, this might be wrong, William’s hurt and angry at Tom, probably not thinking straight, but William’s reaching up and playing with the hair at the nape of Gabe’s neck, saying “Prove it,” in a tone that would tempt a saint, and Gabe was no angel to begin with.
The first touch of their lips is tentative, like they’re both sure the other will see sense and back away, end this thing before it starts. However, when they realise neither of them is going to back down it turns harsh and intense, William pushing Gabe back on to the bed and climbing on top of him without breaking the kiss for a second.
Gabe’s mind is stubbornly refusing to comprehend anything further than the fact he is currently underneath William, William fucking Beckett with that hair, those eyes, those hips, who is kissing him, all clever mouth, tangled tongues and wandering hands.
That is until there’s a knock on the door.
Gabe is all for ignoring it and carrying on with this line of events, but when the person on the other side starts yelling, both he and William stop dead.
“Bill,” the person says, and it’s fucking Tom, that’s just how Gabe’s life goes, “Bill, I know you’re in there. Come out and we can try talk about this like we’re fucking adults.”
Gabe studiously avoids looking at William, watching him make up his mind, knowing what, or more to the point who, he’ll choose.
“Sorry,” he whispers, going to get up, but Gabe grabs the front of his shirt, his words soft and urgent.
“Fine, go. Just come back to me when this gets too much, when the thought of this, of you and I, won’t leave your mind. When you wake up maybe weeks from now and you find yourself already reaching out to call me, just to hear my voice. Come back when this becomes the most exquisite kind of torture. Because trust me, it will.”
William looks away and stands up, straightening himself out before walking to the door. “Goodbye Gabe,” he says, voice a little cooler than usual.
**
Three weeks later Gabe’s sitting in a bar somewhere out east when William slides into the booth, right next to him, expression dark and wild.
“What have you done to me?” he asks desperately, struggling to stay in control.
“Wouldn’t know what you mean,” Gabe says casually, taking another drink without ever looking in William’s direction.
“Yes you do,” William responds, voice strained, “You know exactly what I mean. I can’t think of anything but you and it’s making me push Tom away. I’m engineering fights where there should be none, saying no where I should be saying yes, where I should be wanting to say yes. But all I can think about is you and that one kiss, that one stupid, incredible kiss. This is torture Gabe, and I don’t think I can stand it any longer.”
A small smile graces Gabe’s lips before his expression resumes its previous impassive state.
He turns to William then, eyes burning, betraying him as he responds to William’s impassioned speech.
“Now you know how I’ve been feeling since the day I met you.”