So Don't Explain, Because I Know Exactly What You're Going To Say...
Rating: PG-13. Fluffy as hell, minus the swearing
Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine, but the plot...
Pairing: None per say; but Mike/ Will and Will/ Tom if you look hard enough
Tom was never fully proud of himself. He never had a high self-esteem. He had so much he was good at; music, photography, his writing - but the accolades that he was given he never bought into. He figured people were just being polite, or nice. Either way he didn’t buy in. That’s why he decided he couldn’t be famous. The pressure, the thought of the pressure for him to perform flawlessly; of having to be picture perfect… it was all to much. It made him nervous. It made his stomach flip at the thought. It made him fearful. He was afraid of failing his friends. He had to leave before they got to big, while they still had a chance to replace him or whatever. Whatever would let him have a clean break. But now his plan has begun to slow. He was sitting across from a tear streaked Beckett; with the puffy eyes and somber expression. Mike was to his left; one arm around William’s shoulders, his other hand placed atop William’s. Mike had nothing to say really. Tom had the bitter filling of rejection fill him; he always thought Mike resented him for intruding on his and Bill’s ‘thing’, but that could just be his negative outlook rising up.
“Tommy…” Ouch. If there was one person’s voice alone that could bring Tom to his knees; it was William Beckett. He hardly ever called him Tommy; no, that was saved for when he was showing Tom his full emotions - it was saved for when he was holding nothing back.
“Tommy, we love you. I know you can do it. You are such rockstar material.” He smiled, his voice was strong and harmonic; but it wavered. No one else seemed to catch it. But Tom did. He knew Bill well; better than the rest, maybe even better than Mike. Maybe not.
“But Bill. I can’t do it. I can’t let you guys down. I have to leave. And if not for you, maybe for me… I’m sorry…” When he stood he shot a smile that was mostly for Butcher; and when he past Sisky he ruffled his hair like always. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to leave them. Maybe he should try to tough it out. But now he just couldn’t stay. Maybe someday. Maybe
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It had been a few weeks now, and they were standing in front of a bar in Chicago. It all was still a little surreal, and William was rambling letting the liquor talk for him. He was spouting words about how Tom let the band down, left the best thing to happen to him.
Mike grabbed Williams’s shoulders, hard. “Bill he never would have left us, if you told him to stay. Your opinion was all that ever mattered to him.”
“God! I am such a fucking idiot… why didn’t I even try?” He threw his hands up in invisible defeat, only to bring them down to cover his face. William’s head had begun to spin, his mind reeling over the thought that he alone was the last barricade that that was in Tom’s way, the one Tom was relying on being there. William had failed his friend, all his friends. All he could do now was lean forward into Mike, curl up into his arms, and cry. “You did try, Bill. He didn’t listen. This is just not what he wanted.” Mike instinctively began to run his fingers through the taller man’s hair. Sure it was an awkward sight, but it was what they needed. Bill needed the comfort, and Mike needed to feel needed.
“He didn’t even want me… he didn’t want to stay with me…”
“The hell with him. His loss.”
They always had an unusual relationship, Mike and William. Their friendship has actually grown from animosity for the other. Once they both realized they didn’t have a real reason to hate each other, they became attached at the hip. They had a meaningful relationship; one that had all the attachments with none of the sex. That being the Mike was straight, and William was mostly straight as well. The strong devotion to one another was there. Cuddling, sweet whispers, and even some stolen kisses - oh and the few drunken nights spent talking dirty to each other. But they never had a relationship in the proper right, and sometimes it hurt. Mike knew that it wouldn’t work, so he held on to moments like this. Besides William had a thing for blondes; so Mike would hold him till it was over, till the sinking feeling of unrequited love left William. Mike could hold him till it was over; he could do it till forever.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
William picked his phone up and opened it again, only to shut it and set it down on the nightstand. Again. He had been sitting on his bed playing this game for close to half an hour now. He wanted to talk to Tom so bad it pained him. The thoughts flooded him. Was he mad? Did he feel wronged? Was William’s drinking too much for him? What was it? William wanted to know so bad, he wanted to fix things. He never met anyone as captivating as one Thomas Conrad. He had an artists heart, and a plagued soul. It so happened to find that personality attractive. He was pretty sure that Tom had felt it to, but he was sadly mistaken. William could only think back to all those late night conversations on Marx’s good points, those warm days where William would serve as a model for his scenic-and-candid portraits, of that night alone together...
He picked up his phone once more and succeeded in dialing this time. He also held his breath still, as if it were to upset his willpower if he did breathe.
“Hello?” the voice was laced with sleep, but still sweet in its right.
“Tommy? Hi Tom…”
“William? Hey what’s up? What makes me special enough for a phone call past 12 at night?” True, William had waited so long it was a little past midnight, past his personal phone calling time.
“You are always special to me Tom.” Tom could hear the smile in his voice.
“Thank you. That means a lot. But that’s not all you called for, is it?” Silence fell between them, awkward and uncomfortable.
“I miss you. A lot more than you could imagine.” He choked a little on his words; he didn’t want to sound like he had been tortured and crying for the past hours. He had.
“I know Bill, I miss you; whether you believe me or not. I am quite glad to hear you voice. It always makes me smile.” Tom may have been trying to be comforting, but he still meant every word he said.
“I want you to come back; if not to the whole band; please, please come back to me… It has been a month, I don’t think I can do it without you….” William knew he sounded kind of pathetic, but if it was what it took he didn’t care.
“William; please stop babe…”
“No! Whatever I did that made you leave; I’ll never do it again… I’m sorry, just…come back to me…” He started out strong but the last part was barley audible.
“I didn’t leave because of you, or anyone; I just had to Bill. I’m not right for it; you guys will be huge without me. Just enjoy it for the both of us. Ok?”
“Sure…”
“Plus, I think that dude we ran into at Bucth’s house… Michael? Yeah, he is way more rad than I am.”
“Shit… do you think we really need another Mike?”
“Uh….” Tom paused, but then let out a chuckle. “Dude! I got it… just call him fully, Michael. No one will be the wiser!” With his master plan set, Tom burst into a round of laughter. Like always, William followed suit. It took a full minute to calm down.
“Tommy?”
“Yes?”
“I just want to say I love you.”
“I know, I love you too Will. Don’t ever think I didn’t.”
William smiled again. Everything was ok. All that mattered was Tom’s happiness. If this is what he needed, then so be it.
Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine, but the plot...
Pairing: None per say; but Mike/ Will and Will/ Tom if you look hard enough
Tom was never fully proud of himself. He never had a high self-esteem. He had so much he was good at; music, photography, his writing - but the accolades that he was given he never bought into. He figured people were just being polite, or nice. Either way he didn’t buy in. That’s why he decided he couldn’t be famous. The pressure, the thought of the pressure for him to perform flawlessly; of having to be picture perfect… it was all to much. It made him nervous. It made his stomach flip at the thought. It made him fearful. He was afraid of failing his friends. He had to leave before they got to big, while they still had a chance to replace him or whatever. Whatever would let him have a clean break. But now his plan has begun to slow. He was sitting across from a tear streaked Beckett; with the puffy eyes and somber expression. Mike was to his left; one arm around William’s shoulders, his other hand placed atop William’s. Mike had nothing to say really. Tom had the bitter filling of rejection fill him; he always thought Mike resented him for intruding on his and Bill’s ‘thing’, but that could just be his negative outlook rising up.
“Tommy…” Ouch. If there was one person’s voice alone that could bring Tom to his knees; it was William Beckett. He hardly ever called him Tommy; no, that was saved for when he was showing Tom his full emotions - it was saved for when he was holding nothing back.
“Tommy, we love you. I know you can do it. You are such rockstar material.” He smiled, his voice was strong and harmonic; but it wavered. No one else seemed to catch it. But Tom did. He knew Bill well; better than the rest, maybe even better than Mike. Maybe not.
“But Bill. I can’t do it. I can’t let you guys down. I have to leave. And if not for you, maybe for me… I’m sorry…” When he stood he shot a smile that was mostly for Butcher; and when he past Sisky he ruffled his hair like always. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to leave them. Maybe he should try to tough it out. But now he just couldn’t stay. Maybe someday. Maybe
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It had been a few weeks now, and they were standing in front of a bar in Chicago. It all was still a little surreal, and William was rambling letting the liquor talk for him. He was spouting words about how Tom let the band down, left the best thing to happen to him.
Mike grabbed Williams’s shoulders, hard. “Bill he never would have left us, if you told him to stay. Your opinion was all that ever mattered to him.”
“God! I am such a fucking idiot… why didn’t I even try?” He threw his hands up in invisible defeat, only to bring them down to cover his face. William’s head had begun to spin, his mind reeling over the thought that he alone was the last barricade that that was in Tom’s way, the one Tom was relying on being there. William had failed his friend, all his friends. All he could do now was lean forward into Mike, curl up into his arms, and cry. “You did try, Bill. He didn’t listen. This is just not what he wanted.” Mike instinctively began to run his fingers through the taller man’s hair. Sure it was an awkward sight, but it was what they needed. Bill needed the comfort, and Mike needed to feel needed.
“He didn’t even want me… he didn’t want to stay with me…”
“The hell with him. His loss.”
They always had an unusual relationship, Mike and William. Their friendship has actually grown from animosity for the other. Once they both realized they didn’t have a real reason to hate each other, they became attached at the hip. They had a meaningful relationship; one that had all the attachments with none of the sex. That being the Mike was straight, and William was mostly straight as well. The strong devotion to one another was there. Cuddling, sweet whispers, and even some stolen kisses - oh and the few drunken nights spent talking dirty to each other. But they never had a relationship in the proper right, and sometimes it hurt. Mike knew that it wouldn’t work, so he held on to moments like this. Besides William had a thing for blondes; so Mike would hold him till it was over, till the sinking feeling of unrequited love left William. Mike could hold him till it was over; he could do it till forever.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
William picked his phone up and opened it again, only to shut it and set it down on the nightstand. Again. He had been sitting on his bed playing this game for close to half an hour now. He wanted to talk to Tom so bad it pained him. The thoughts flooded him. Was he mad? Did he feel wronged? Was William’s drinking too much for him? What was it? William wanted to know so bad, he wanted to fix things. He never met anyone as captivating as one Thomas Conrad. He had an artists heart, and a plagued soul. It so happened to find that personality attractive. He was pretty sure that Tom had felt it to, but he was sadly mistaken. William could only think back to all those late night conversations on Marx’s good points, those warm days where William would serve as a model for his scenic-and-candid portraits, of that night alone together...
He picked up his phone once more and succeeded in dialing this time. He also held his breath still, as if it were to upset his willpower if he did breathe.
“Hello?” the voice was laced with sleep, but still sweet in its right.
“Tommy? Hi Tom…”
“William? Hey what’s up? What makes me special enough for a phone call past 12 at night?” True, William had waited so long it was a little past midnight, past his personal phone calling time.
“You are always special to me Tom.” Tom could hear the smile in his voice.
“Thank you. That means a lot. But that’s not all you called for, is it?” Silence fell between them, awkward and uncomfortable.
“I miss you. A lot more than you could imagine.” He choked a little on his words; he didn’t want to sound like he had been tortured and crying for the past hours. He had.
“I know Bill, I miss you; whether you believe me or not. I am quite glad to hear you voice. It always makes me smile.” Tom may have been trying to be comforting, but he still meant every word he said.
“I want you to come back; if not to the whole band; please, please come back to me… It has been a month, I don’t think I can do it without you….” William knew he sounded kind of pathetic, but if it was what it took he didn’t care.
“William; please stop babe…”
“No! Whatever I did that made you leave; I’ll never do it again… I’m sorry, just…come back to me…” He started out strong but the last part was barley audible.
“I didn’t leave because of you, or anyone; I just had to Bill. I’m not right for it; you guys will be huge without me. Just enjoy it for the both of us. Ok?”
“Sure…”
“Plus, I think that dude we ran into at Bucth’s house… Michael? Yeah, he is way more rad than I am.”
“Shit… do you think we really need another Mike?”
“Uh….” Tom paused, but then let out a chuckle. “Dude! I got it… just call him fully, Michael. No one will be the wiser!” With his master plan set, Tom burst into a round of laughter. Like always, William followed suit. It took a full minute to calm down.
“Tommy?”
“Yes?”
“I just want to say I love you.”
“I know, I love you too Will. Don’t ever think I didn’t.”
William smiled again. Everything was ok. All that mattered was Tom’s happiness. If this is what he needed, then so be it.