100 Years Of Loneliness -1920s
Title - 100 Years Of Loneliness -1920s
Author -
fic_type_thing
Pairing - Gabe Saporta/William Beckett
Rating - PG-15, language.
Summary - "How's work?"
"You didn't ask me to come here so we could talk business."
Disclaimer - A part of my imagination, fake.
Author's notes - This standalone is a part of a series, or at least will be once I've gotten the rest up. 100 Years Of Loneliness - One fic for each part of the 1900s. Thanks to
traumatic_bunny for kicking me until I finish these, and betaing! This fic contains 1920s slang, so.
Important phrases:
Bimbo = Tough guy.
Cash or check? = Kiss now or kiss later?
William barely even looks to the dance floor before Gabriel arrives. William is sitting with a glass of whiskey in his hand, and a cigar in the other. His eyes scan the premises every once in a while, spotting a few new people here and there. Notices when someone's left. Up on stage is some band; a mellow bass, drums, saxophone, and a white man somewhere in there, singing. It's just like almost any other jazz club, this evening in this place. Always someone tired from the week previous to this night, just enjoying the effect of the alcohol, the shadows of cigarette smoke covering everything, and the sometimes-talented-sometimes-not musicians up on stage. Tonight, William definitely isn't that guy, and he isn't worried when Gabriel doesn't show up on time. He's 10 minutes late (though Will's been sitting here, familiarizing himself with the surroundings for a good 40 minutes), but it doesn't matter. For one, Gabriel is always late, so 10 minutes here and there isn't such a big deal. Also, they've got the entire evening, maybe even night, so all is forgiven when Gabriel steps inside into the smoky atmosphere of this particular club.
"Doll, a whiskey, yeah?" Gabriel's voice, towards what Will guesses was the waitress by the bar, doesn't cut through the music, but rather joins it. A part of the bass and drums and saxophone.
The sitting man's eyes dart up, even though he's sitting with his back towards the sound, but still. Doesn't hurt to be prepared.
"Hey, daddy-o." Gabriel grins and shrugs his coat off, wrapping it around the backrest of the chair he pulls out, before sitting down on the sensually red velvet. This isn't just some cheap gin joint; we're talking speakeasy here. William flashes a brief, crooked smile in return, letting the smoke in his mouth pour out of his lips, also tapping the ashes onto the ashtray on the table.
"Evening," he says quietly, just enjoys the company Gabriel has just provided. The other doesn't remove his fedora -it looks relatively new- but tips it up a little on his head and smiles to the waitress as she sets his drink down on the table.
"Thank you, baby." And the waitress winks in return before disappearing away again, probably back to the bar.
"Butt me?" Gabriel asks as he pulls his lighter out of his pocket, and William nods. The box on the table contains one more cigar, intended for Gabriel, so he just pushes the box lightly towards him, a gesture, while continuing to suck on his own cigar slowly as Gabriel lights up. Neither of them are in a rush, not any more for tonight.
"You could have invited anyone, you know," says Gabriel quietly; William notes that he's started talking with the kind of Italian accent that most of their co-workers have naturally. Even though his mother tongue is Spanish (William's favorite moments are when Gabriel gets too tired and drunk to know the difference between the two languages, and he stars whispering pretty Spanish words in his ear).
William nods, taking another sip of his alcohol, beautiful alcohol.
"I know," He confirms once he's swallowed, without flinching because of the sharp edge to it. Gabriel ends up waiting for him to continue, but when he looks up and their eyes connect, Gabriel kind of understands that there wasn't anything to add, and he accepts that. Which is good, because the younger, skinnier, weaker of them, he doesn't feel like explaining anything tonight.
"How's work?" It's okay to talk about work between the two of them. Common grounds. However, might not be the best option tonight. Gabriel's eyes flicker up from watching the ashes transfer from his cigar to the ashtray. Pushes smoke out from his nose before saying anything.
"You didn't ask me to come here so we can talk business."
William is so busted, though doesn't move a muscle in his face to show for it. If it wasn't for that defeated sigh.
"Dance with me," he says (figures, right as he asks, the song ends and changes into something several times slower…). Now Gabriel doesn't have anything to call him out on. Maybe dancing is why they're here. So he nods lightly, accepting what he was asked/told to do, because it's not like he minds. Reaches across the table to take William's cigar from his lips, and puts both of them out against the ashtray, also leaving them there. No one would dare take them anyway. Will waits for Gabriel to get up, reach his hand out to him to take, before getting up himself and accepting the hand. A bit further away lies the dance floor. Mostly boys with their girl's waists in their arms, but our two, they aren't the only ones who played it boy on boy. The place is thankfully not too crowded.
There isn't really hesitation about how this will work, it's not the first time they're dancing. Gabriel's hand curls around Will's hip, holding him close. Will's arm around Gabriel's shoulders, and their hands clasped on the other side of them. Gabriel doesn't even think twice when he feels Will's head on his shoulder, while on the other hand, Will's mind is racing about it, especially when he feels the other's head against his own. It's all very friendly affection; after all, they've known each other since Will was born (two years later than Gabriel). How could there be anything else?
"Word on the street that someone broke into your place," Will says quietly. That isn't all he heard, and worry had almost consumed him, up until he got a hold of him a few days ago.
"Yeah. Some bimbo with his girl. The only ones hurt were the two of them, " Gabriel replies quietly. "Capone sent them. Bugs is furious and already on it." It didn't sound as much business-like as it could have, and Gabriel's thumb rubbing over Will's pale soft skin didn't make it seem more like it either.
"Don't worry your pretty head off, William." A smile spreads over both their sets of lips, lips that had never touched. Will's smile is light, tired, from Gabriel's shoulder. Even though he isn't physically tired much, if at all. His eyes land on a young couple. The woman looks like she isn't old enough to be here in the first place, but then again, pretty much anyone showing themselves in a club like this is a sinner. He sighs, closing his eyes briefly when the man leans in a little, lips close to the woman's ear, and it looks like he's saying something though Will can't hear him. She smiles wider, and William wishes that Gabriel is more drunk and more tired.
"Hey, you're not falling asleep on me, are you, papi?" Gabriel has lifted his head down to get a better look at the boy on his shoulder (no one else uses that word), who opens his mouth to try and say something, give him a response, a reply. After two, three seconds, he gives up on that. Gabriel's eyess are big, dark brown, hazy and endlessly familiar, and after two years of wondering, what William is the absolute most tired of so far, is not knowing what those pretty, thin, pink lips taste like. He takes a deep breath, ready to say or do whatever; perhaps lean forward/up and kiss Gabriel, but just as he's about to do so, Gabriel turns his head away. At first, Will doesn't understand, just feels the same rejection as the past year, except worse.
That's until he realizes that someone has tapped the other's shoulder, another young man looking quite handsome in that shamelessly roughed up way. There's hint of a bruise around his eye, something that is very faded. The new guy smiles between the other two.
"Mind if I cut in?" He is speaking to Gabriel, wants to dance with William, and William definitely minds. He doesn't say anything though. Figures that as soon as it seems decided, once Gabriel says "go ahead", the song ends and the band starts into a much faster song again. Gabriel starts pulling away, but at first, William won't let go. It's almost desperately that he presses his lips close to Gabriel's ear to whisper "Save the last dance for me, papi."
But doesn't stay long enough to give Gabriel time to say anything in return. They just exchange smiles with each other, Gabriel nodding, before he disappears off and William needs to focus on this new guy. He smiles, a little forced and uneasy, and finds his fingers laced in with this new guy. His hand kind of fit over William's bony hip, but no where near the way Gabriel's fingers had adjusted after every single curve of it.
It wasn't that he didn't enjoy himself. A minute into the song, William can smile for real, because hey. Even though there is someone else for him, someone else he wants to share body heat and/or space with, he can deal with this. Besides, the guy is cute and he can definitely dance. Songs change, as do the dance partners, and at some point, Will even finds himself with a woman's waist in his arm, but it doesn't matter. It's just living.
The only person Will doesn't manage to get back to is Gabriel (it seems as if he disappears every once in a while, only to be across the dance floor with a new person to dance with, and only reappearing when William can't get to him). As the clock strikes 11, William's tiredness finally catches up to him, and though the night is still young, it is also still daring and courageous, and he really could need that right now. Takes a deep breath, but doesn't leave his current dance partner yet. It's the handsome man who came in the absolute wrong moment, but managed to (almost) make up for it with the dancing, Alex Suarez, a name that he recognizes though can't pair up with a face until now.
It is at the corner of his eyes he sees it, while peering around in search; Gabriel heading towards the exit with someone in his hand who is definitely not Will himself. Glances to their table, and there is the box on the table, closed, and Will's coat on his chair. This doesn't count as a last dance of sorts, not what was in mind when Will asked Gabriel to come with him out here.
For a moment, he chokes up. Stopping his dancing, at first starting to their seats, though when Alex's confused face looks in that direction to see what in the world could have had such an effect on Will, he quickly directs his head down again to the ground. How could he have been so foolish to think he actually had a chance, that his hips and feet moved well enough to keep up with Gabriel Saporta? Tears are starting to well up. No, no, wait. Of course it isn't tears, just the smoky atmosphere catching up with him, that's all. Alex's voice sounds numbed down, distant. Something strikes William. Maybe he isn't good enough to be a cocksucker. Maybe he just isn't worth enough to suck Gabe's dick.
"You okay?"
Will keeps his head down for another few moments, just staring at the semi-dirty floor, at his feet and Alex's feet. Still only hearing his own heartbeat in his ears, Will looks up, suddenly with new strength. Where the fuck is he getting all of this nonsense from? Of course he's good enough. Of course he's worth enough to get on his knees to Gabe. In fact, it's Gabe who doesn't deserve Will's cocksucker lips and his entire body. He isn't weak. He's actually pretty strong; knows what he wants and takes it. At least in any situation besides this, and Will briefly curses himself for believing in love so badly. It's Gabe who doesn't deserve him, not the other way around. Right? The smoke isn't a problem anymore. At least it shouldn't be. Will ignores the question, he doesn't want to think about it himself.
"Cash or check?" he asks, looking, searching in the other's face for something that reminds him of Gabriel, something to latch onto and think about. Alex pulls Will back in, not even bothering to reply, but pressing their lips together. Cash, apparently. Tongues and lips mingling not-so-softly or shallow, a quiet moan from Will as his arms slip around Alex's neck, pulling them tighter together. Now, there isn't anything else, besides this Alex Suarez guy. There can't be, William won't allow there to be. Not when he in the back of his head knows he will spend the next 3 weeks, perhaps, drinking away his nostalgia and hurt. Alex's lips trail up Will's cheek bone, misses his eye though manages to get an eyelash stuck to them as he continues back until he meets William's ear.
"La piel prueba como la luz de la luna, y usted es lo que veo esta noche..." he whispers.
A shiver crawls up Will's spine.
Author -
fic_type_thing
Pairing - Gabe Saporta/William Beckett
Rating - PG-15, language.
Summary - "How's work?"
"You didn't ask me to come here so we could talk business."
Disclaimer - A part of my imagination, fake.
Author's notes - This standalone is a part of a series, or at least will be once I've gotten the rest up. 100 Years Of Loneliness - One fic for each part of the 1900s. Thanks to
traumatic_bunny for kicking me until I finish these, and betaing! This fic contains 1920s slang, so.
Important phrases:
Bimbo = Tough guy.
Cash or check? = Kiss now or kiss later?
William barely even looks to the dance floor before Gabriel arrives. William is sitting with a glass of whiskey in his hand, and a cigar in the other. His eyes scan the premises every once in a while, spotting a few new people here and there. Notices when someone's left. Up on stage is some band; a mellow bass, drums, saxophone, and a white man somewhere in there, singing. It's just like almost any other jazz club, this evening in this place. Always someone tired from the week previous to this night, just enjoying the effect of the alcohol, the shadows of cigarette smoke covering everything, and the sometimes-talented-sometimes-not musicians up on stage. Tonight, William definitely isn't that guy, and he isn't worried when Gabriel doesn't show up on time. He's 10 minutes late (though Will's been sitting here, familiarizing himself with the surroundings for a good 40 minutes), but it doesn't matter. For one, Gabriel is always late, so 10 minutes here and there isn't such a big deal. Also, they've got the entire evening, maybe even night, so all is forgiven when Gabriel steps inside into the smoky atmosphere of this particular club.
"Doll, a whiskey, yeah?" Gabriel's voice, towards what Will guesses was the waitress by the bar, doesn't cut through the music, but rather joins it. A part of the bass and drums and saxophone.
The sitting man's eyes dart up, even though he's sitting with his back towards the sound, but still. Doesn't hurt to be prepared.
"Hey, daddy-o." Gabriel grins and shrugs his coat off, wrapping it around the backrest of the chair he pulls out, before sitting down on the sensually red velvet. This isn't just some cheap gin joint; we're talking speakeasy here. William flashes a brief, crooked smile in return, letting the smoke in his mouth pour out of his lips, also tapping the ashes onto the ashtray on the table.
"Evening," he says quietly, just enjoys the company Gabriel has just provided. The other doesn't remove his fedora -it looks relatively new- but tips it up a little on his head and smiles to the waitress as she sets his drink down on the table.
"Thank you, baby." And the waitress winks in return before disappearing away again, probably back to the bar.
"Butt me?" Gabriel asks as he pulls his lighter out of his pocket, and William nods. The box on the table contains one more cigar, intended for Gabriel, so he just pushes the box lightly towards him, a gesture, while continuing to suck on his own cigar slowly as Gabriel lights up. Neither of them are in a rush, not any more for tonight.
"You could have invited anyone, you know," says Gabriel quietly; William notes that he's started talking with the kind of Italian accent that most of their co-workers have naturally. Even though his mother tongue is Spanish (William's favorite moments are when Gabriel gets too tired and drunk to know the difference between the two languages, and he stars whispering pretty Spanish words in his ear).
William nods, taking another sip of his alcohol, beautiful alcohol.
"I know," He confirms once he's swallowed, without flinching because of the sharp edge to it. Gabriel ends up waiting for him to continue, but when he looks up and their eyes connect, Gabriel kind of understands that there wasn't anything to add, and he accepts that. Which is good, because the younger, skinnier, weaker of them, he doesn't feel like explaining anything tonight.
"How's work?" It's okay to talk about work between the two of them. Common grounds. However, might not be the best option tonight. Gabriel's eyes flicker up from watching the ashes transfer from his cigar to the ashtray. Pushes smoke out from his nose before saying anything.
"You didn't ask me to come here so we can talk business."
William is so busted, though doesn't move a muscle in his face to show for it. If it wasn't for that defeated sigh.
"Dance with me," he says (figures, right as he asks, the song ends and changes into something several times slower…). Now Gabriel doesn't have anything to call him out on. Maybe dancing is why they're here. So he nods lightly, accepting what he was asked/told to do, because it's not like he minds. Reaches across the table to take William's cigar from his lips, and puts both of them out against the ashtray, also leaving them there. No one would dare take them anyway. Will waits for Gabriel to get up, reach his hand out to him to take, before getting up himself and accepting the hand. A bit further away lies the dance floor. Mostly boys with their girl's waists in their arms, but our two, they aren't the only ones who played it boy on boy. The place is thankfully not too crowded.
There isn't really hesitation about how this will work, it's not the first time they're dancing. Gabriel's hand curls around Will's hip, holding him close. Will's arm around Gabriel's shoulders, and their hands clasped on the other side of them. Gabriel doesn't even think twice when he feels Will's head on his shoulder, while on the other hand, Will's mind is racing about it, especially when he feels the other's head against his own. It's all very friendly affection; after all, they've known each other since Will was born (two years later than Gabriel). How could there be anything else?
"Word on the street that someone broke into your place," Will says quietly. That isn't all he heard, and worry had almost consumed him, up until he got a hold of him a few days ago.
"Yeah. Some bimbo with his girl. The only ones hurt were the two of them, " Gabriel replies quietly. "Capone sent them. Bugs is furious and already on it." It didn't sound as much business-like as it could have, and Gabriel's thumb rubbing over Will's pale soft skin didn't make it seem more like it either.
"Don't worry your pretty head off, William." A smile spreads over both their sets of lips, lips that had never touched. Will's smile is light, tired, from Gabriel's shoulder. Even though he isn't physically tired much, if at all. His eyes land on a young couple. The woman looks like she isn't old enough to be here in the first place, but then again, pretty much anyone showing themselves in a club like this is a sinner. He sighs, closing his eyes briefly when the man leans in a little, lips close to the woman's ear, and it looks like he's saying something though Will can't hear him. She smiles wider, and William wishes that Gabriel is more drunk and more tired.
"Hey, you're not falling asleep on me, are you, papi?" Gabriel has lifted his head down to get a better look at the boy on his shoulder (no one else uses that word), who opens his mouth to try and say something, give him a response, a reply. After two, three seconds, he gives up on that. Gabriel's eyess are big, dark brown, hazy and endlessly familiar, and after two years of wondering, what William is the absolute most tired of so far, is not knowing what those pretty, thin, pink lips taste like. He takes a deep breath, ready to say or do whatever; perhaps lean forward/up and kiss Gabriel, but just as he's about to do so, Gabriel turns his head away. At first, Will doesn't understand, just feels the same rejection as the past year, except worse.
That's until he realizes that someone has tapped the other's shoulder, another young man looking quite handsome in that shamelessly roughed up way. There's hint of a bruise around his eye, something that is very faded. The new guy smiles between the other two.
"Mind if I cut in?" He is speaking to Gabriel, wants to dance with William, and William definitely minds. He doesn't say anything though. Figures that as soon as it seems decided, once Gabriel says "go ahead", the song ends and the band starts into a much faster song again. Gabriel starts pulling away, but at first, William won't let go. It's almost desperately that he presses his lips close to Gabriel's ear to whisper "Save the last dance for me, papi."
But doesn't stay long enough to give Gabriel time to say anything in return. They just exchange smiles with each other, Gabriel nodding, before he disappears off and William needs to focus on this new guy. He smiles, a little forced and uneasy, and finds his fingers laced in with this new guy. His hand kind of fit over William's bony hip, but no where near the way Gabriel's fingers had adjusted after every single curve of it.
It wasn't that he didn't enjoy himself. A minute into the song, William can smile for real, because hey. Even though there is someone else for him, someone else he wants to share body heat and/or space with, he can deal with this. Besides, the guy is cute and he can definitely dance. Songs change, as do the dance partners, and at some point, Will even finds himself with a woman's waist in his arm, but it doesn't matter. It's just living.
The only person Will doesn't manage to get back to is Gabriel (it seems as if he disappears every once in a while, only to be across the dance floor with a new person to dance with, and only reappearing when William can't get to him). As the clock strikes 11, William's tiredness finally catches up to him, and though the night is still young, it is also still daring and courageous, and he really could need that right now. Takes a deep breath, but doesn't leave his current dance partner yet. It's the handsome man who came in the absolute wrong moment, but managed to (almost) make up for it with the dancing, Alex Suarez, a name that he recognizes though can't pair up with a face until now.
It is at the corner of his eyes he sees it, while peering around in search; Gabriel heading towards the exit with someone in his hand who is definitely not Will himself. Glances to their table, and there is the box on the table, closed, and Will's coat on his chair. This doesn't count as a last dance of sorts, not what was in mind when Will asked Gabriel to come with him out here.
For a moment, he chokes up. Stopping his dancing, at first starting to their seats, though when Alex's confused face looks in that direction to see what in the world could have had such an effect on Will, he quickly directs his head down again to the ground. How could he have been so foolish to think he actually had a chance, that his hips and feet moved well enough to keep up with Gabriel Saporta? Tears are starting to well up. No, no, wait. Of course it isn't tears, just the smoky atmosphere catching up with him, that's all. Alex's voice sounds numbed down, distant. Something strikes William. Maybe he isn't good enough to be a cocksucker. Maybe he just isn't worth enough to suck Gabe's dick.
"You okay?"
Will keeps his head down for another few moments, just staring at the semi-dirty floor, at his feet and Alex's feet. Still only hearing his own heartbeat in his ears, Will looks up, suddenly with new strength. Where the fuck is he getting all of this nonsense from? Of course he's good enough. Of course he's worth enough to get on his knees to Gabe. In fact, it's Gabe who doesn't deserve Will's cocksucker lips and his entire body. He isn't weak. He's actually pretty strong; knows what he wants and takes it. At least in any situation besides this, and Will briefly curses himself for believing in love so badly. It's Gabe who doesn't deserve him, not the other way around. Right? The smoke isn't a problem anymore. At least it shouldn't be. Will ignores the question, he doesn't want to think about it himself.
"Cash or check?" he asks, looking, searching in the other's face for something that reminds him of Gabriel, something to latch onto and think about. Alex pulls Will back in, not even bothering to reply, but pressing their lips together. Cash, apparently. Tongues and lips mingling not-so-softly or shallow, a quiet moan from Will as his arms slip around Alex's neck, pulling them tighter together. Now, there isn't anything else, besides this Alex Suarez guy. There can't be, William won't allow there to be. Not when he in the back of his head knows he will spend the next 3 weeks, perhaps, drinking away his nostalgia and hurt. Alex's lips trail up Will's cheek bone, misses his eye though manages to get an eyelash stuck to them as he continues back until he meets William's ear.
"La piel prueba como la luz de la luna, y usted es lo que veo esta noche..." he whispers.
A shiver crawls up Will's spine.