Futile Devices
Title: Futile Devices
Pairing: Gabe Saporta/William Beckett
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Swearing
Word Count: 1,400+
Summary: His once-upon-a-time best friend is smiling, wearing that stupid denim jacket that he's apparently been obsessed with. It's uglier in real life than it is in the pictures, promise.
Beta: skipstoomuch ! She's a sweetie, for real.<3
Notes: Wrote this a few months ago and decided to post this to make up for the super angsty sad fic I posted last time. I hope this isn't too terrible! Oh, and title/cut credit to "Futile Devices" by Sufjan Stevens.
"Gabe --wait, what? What are you doing here?"
His once-upon-a-time best friend is smiling, wearing that stupid denim jacket that he's apparently been obsessed with. It's uglier in real life than it is in the pictures, promise.
Because, yeah, William occasionally catches a new picture of Gabe at the latest party or show or whatever drifting around the internet. It's not like he obsessively searches Twitter or anything. That'd be a little strange, maybe even borderline creepy and stalker-like. So he doesn't. Really.
"To see you, darling," He says, like they hang out all the time. Like he drops by without a call every day and they text back and forth constantly. Almost like they're still best friends... still lovers, even. But the thing is, he doesn't. And they're not.
"Oh." William blinks.
"Yeah, 'oh,'" The older man mocks, almost laughing as he says it. Such a Gabe thing for him to do.
"Well," He starts, at a loss for words. "Well then, I-uh, um..."
"Gonna invite me in?" Gabe prompts, but he's already letting himself inside, squeezing between William and the door frame.
"Oh," William says again, practically jumping to the side so Gabe can get in. He shuts the door quickly behind him. "Shit, man, I-I-I, uh, sorry. That was kinda rude of me. Do you want anything to..."
Gabe isn't paying attention though, he's already wandered into the kitchen and started rifling through William's liquor cabinet. He still remembered where it was.
"Um," William says before awkwardly chuckling as he still stands by the door, pulling at the neckline of his solid white t-shirt. He doesn't know what to do. Gabe is in his house being Gabe. And sometimes when Gabe is being too Gabe, William finds himself being too William. And being too William is never a good thing. Especially if you're already William.
Gabe's poured two drinks already, handing one to William who takes it with hesitant fingers.
"It's just one drink. You're acting like I'm handing you a grenade or some shit," Gabe remarks, laughing at his friend's awkwardness.
He can't remember the last time he had just one drink with Gabe. Usually one drink means a cool conversation, then two drinks means a pretty good time, and three drinks means 'why not another?' and four or five drinks means he'll never stop and he'll end up naked and his sheets will smell like Gabe in the morning.
William slowly takes a sip, and Gabe's still grinning. He has been since he opened the door. He doesn't know why Gabe is so happy, because he was pretty sure for a while there that he was depressed. And that's just coming from someone who's seen some pictures and videos randomly online, read some tweets and the like, and only seeing him twice maybe in the past year and a half.
"So, Bilvy," Gabe begins. "How's life?"
"Wait, do you want to sit down or something?" He motions to the living room. William is making a point to not be rude anymore.
He laughs. "That bad, eh?"
"Oh," William says suddenly, realizing how it must've sounded. "No, I didn't mean...I-I was just trying to-"
Gabe laughs again, already walking over to the couch William had previously been reading on. "I was joking, man. I knew what you meant."
William sighs, because he's being awkward and too William right now. It's frustrating. He follows him though, sitting beside him on the couch. They don't touch like they might've a couple years ago.
He takes the time to think for a minute before trying to start the conversation again.
"Well," He says, taking a deep breath, "I'm alright... a lot's going on, I guess."
"Yeah." Gabe drinks. "I know how that feels. But we're taking a break from touring for the rest of the year. Should be nice."
"Yeah," William says and drinks, too.
They're quiet, but it's that comfortable quiet that William likes. Especially with Gabe. They never had to always talk. William remembers years ago having entirely silent phone calls with the older man, listening to nothing but his steady breathing on the other line. Sometimes he didn't feel like talking, and William understood that. That's why they always worked... until, one day, they didn't anymore.
"Well, I-uh," Gabe chuckles at his own awkwardness a few minutes later. "I really missed you."
A smile tugs on William's lips that he can't control. "Yeah?"
Gabe matches his smile and confirms, "Yeah."
William doesn't know what to say, but thankfully Gabe always does.
"I missed having you around, little fucker," Gabe pushes William's shoulder lightly, making William giggle unintentionally. "Well, how about you? Did you miss me, too, you dickwad?"
"Of course," William says immediately, breaking eye contact and finds himself staring at the clear liquid in his glass. "Of course I did, Gabe," he whispers, his tone suddenly serious.
"Good," Gabe says. "Because if I missed you and you didn't really miss me, I'd kind of feel like an asshole inviting myself over to your place. I'm glad I'm welcome."
"You're always welcome, you know that," William says, but Gabe really doesn't know that. How was he supposed to? William doesn't text him or call him or really talk to him at all. How is that in any way an invitation over to his house whenever he pleases?
"You're still just as pretty," Gabe tells him, being so very Gabe again that it's making William be too William. "Shorter hair-kind of a greasy mother fucker, aren't you now?-But still, the same old pretty Billiam."
When William gets compliments like this, he usually responds with a thank you or something. But when Gabe calls him cute or beautiful or even just says he likes his shirt, William turns into a fourteen year-old girl.
He giggles yet again and it's a little pathetic in a way. He can't help what Gabe does to him. "Well, uh, thanks, I guess."
"Grow your hair out," Gabe tells him suddenly, finding his fingers playing with the longer pieces near his forehead. "For me?" He adds, almost pouting.
"Um..." William trails off, suddenly growing nervous at his friend's request.
"Please?" Gabe begs. "Please, please, please Bilvy? William? Bill? My sweetie lovely darling baby sweetheart? Please?"
He laughs at the ridiculous names and just says, "Eh, maybe."
"I missed you, you fucker," Gabe tells him again after a moment.
"Yeah," is all William can think to say.
"No," He starts again. "I missed you, like...I mean, a lot. You know? I-I really..."
William turns and faces Gabe this time, slightly confused.
"I missed you," Gabe sighs, biting his lip. "I-I really did, man. I've been fucked up. I-I did, really..." He trails off, and looks to the floor.
The sudden mood change in his friend alerts the younger man, and his brows furrow.
"Hey." William puts his hand on top of Gabe's without much thought. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Gabe's quick to snap himself out of his gaze by taking a long drink, moving his hand quickly away from Bill's. "There nothing's wrong."
He tries smiling but it's the smile William knows as Gabe's fake smile. Because he just knows him that well. Or maybe he just used to.
"No," he insists this time. "Tell me. What's wrong?"
It's Gabe's turn to be painfully awkward because he realized he fucked up the original intention of his visit. He just wanted to see if William was still there for him. And now he's gone and fucked it up with his feelings. He always fucks things up with his feelings. Always.
"Dude, I don't know what you're talking about, because nothing is-"
William suddenly presses his lips to Gabe's, and for a moment he feels free and happy and alive, but pulls away before the other man has time to react.
God, he'd missed that feeling.
"...Oh," Gabe says, and looks kind of hurt. Confused.
William's blushing. Damnit. Fucking idiot. He's a fucking idiot. "W-What?"
"I thought you...wanted to make out. Or something. But then you stopped."
Gabe was trying not to, but he starts smiling anyway, coaxing a smile out of William as well.
"You fucker," William says this time, and reattaches their lips in a split second. And William's starting to feel too William again because Gabe's being too Gabe. But he's feeling like it might be alright this time. He likes who he becomes when Gabe's around, the one thing he hasn't been in a while.
Himself.
Pairing: Gabe Saporta/William Beckett
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Swearing
Word Count: 1,400+
Summary: His once-upon-a-time best friend is smiling, wearing that stupid denim jacket that he's apparently been obsessed with. It's uglier in real life than it is in the pictures, promise.
Beta: skipstoomuch ! She's a sweetie, for real.<3
Notes: Wrote this a few months ago and decided to post this to make up for the super angsty sad fic I posted last time. I hope this isn't too terrible! Oh, and title/cut credit to "Futile Devices" by Sufjan Stevens.
"Gabe --wait, what? What are you doing here?"
His once-upon-a-time best friend is smiling, wearing that stupid denim jacket that he's apparently been obsessed with. It's uglier in real life than it is in the pictures, promise.
Because, yeah, William occasionally catches a new picture of Gabe at the latest party or show or whatever drifting around the internet. It's not like he obsessively searches Twitter or anything. That'd be a little strange, maybe even borderline creepy and stalker-like. So he doesn't. Really.
"To see you, darling," He says, like they hang out all the time. Like he drops by without a call every day and they text back and forth constantly. Almost like they're still best friends... still lovers, even. But the thing is, he doesn't. And they're not.
"Oh." William blinks.
"Yeah, 'oh,'" The older man mocks, almost laughing as he says it. Such a Gabe thing for him to do.
"Well," He starts, at a loss for words. "Well then, I-uh, um..."
"Gonna invite me in?" Gabe prompts, but he's already letting himself inside, squeezing between William and the door frame.
"Oh," William says again, practically jumping to the side so Gabe can get in. He shuts the door quickly behind him. "Shit, man, I-I-I, uh, sorry. That was kinda rude of me. Do you want anything to..."
Gabe isn't paying attention though, he's already wandered into the kitchen and started rifling through William's liquor cabinet. He still remembered where it was.
"Um," William says before awkwardly chuckling as he still stands by the door, pulling at the neckline of his solid white t-shirt. He doesn't know what to do. Gabe is in his house being Gabe. And sometimes when Gabe is being too Gabe, William finds himself being too William. And being too William is never a good thing. Especially if you're already William.
Gabe's poured two drinks already, handing one to William who takes it with hesitant fingers.
"It's just one drink. You're acting like I'm handing you a grenade or some shit," Gabe remarks, laughing at his friend's awkwardness.
He can't remember the last time he had just one drink with Gabe. Usually one drink means a cool conversation, then two drinks means a pretty good time, and three drinks means 'why not another?' and four or five drinks means he'll never stop and he'll end up naked and his sheets will smell like Gabe in the morning.
William slowly takes a sip, and Gabe's still grinning. He has been since he opened the door. He doesn't know why Gabe is so happy, because he was pretty sure for a while there that he was depressed. And that's just coming from someone who's seen some pictures and videos randomly online, read some tweets and the like, and only seeing him twice maybe in the past year and a half.
"So, Bilvy," Gabe begins. "How's life?"
"Wait, do you want to sit down or something?" He motions to the living room. William is making a point to not be rude anymore.
He laughs. "That bad, eh?"
"Oh," William says suddenly, realizing how it must've sounded. "No, I didn't mean...I-I was just trying to-"
Gabe laughs again, already walking over to the couch William had previously been reading on. "I was joking, man. I knew what you meant."
William sighs, because he's being awkward and too William right now. It's frustrating. He follows him though, sitting beside him on the couch. They don't touch like they might've a couple years ago.
He takes the time to think for a minute before trying to start the conversation again.
"Well," He says, taking a deep breath, "I'm alright... a lot's going on, I guess."
"Yeah." Gabe drinks. "I know how that feels. But we're taking a break from touring for the rest of the year. Should be nice."
"Yeah," William says and drinks, too.
They're quiet, but it's that comfortable quiet that William likes. Especially with Gabe. They never had to always talk. William remembers years ago having entirely silent phone calls with the older man, listening to nothing but his steady breathing on the other line. Sometimes he didn't feel like talking, and William understood that. That's why they always worked... until, one day, they didn't anymore.
"Well, I-uh," Gabe chuckles at his own awkwardness a few minutes later. "I really missed you."
A smile tugs on William's lips that he can't control. "Yeah?"
Gabe matches his smile and confirms, "Yeah."
William doesn't know what to say, but thankfully Gabe always does.
"I missed having you around, little fucker," Gabe pushes William's shoulder lightly, making William giggle unintentionally. "Well, how about you? Did you miss me, too, you dickwad?"
"Of course," William says immediately, breaking eye contact and finds himself staring at the clear liquid in his glass. "Of course I did, Gabe," he whispers, his tone suddenly serious.
"Good," Gabe says. "Because if I missed you and you didn't really miss me, I'd kind of feel like an asshole inviting myself over to your place. I'm glad I'm welcome."
"You're always welcome, you know that," William says, but Gabe really doesn't know that. How was he supposed to? William doesn't text him or call him or really talk to him at all. How is that in any way an invitation over to his house whenever he pleases?
"You're still just as pretty," Gabe tells him, being so very Gabe again that it's making William be too William. "Shorter hair-kind of a greasy mother fucker, aren't you now?-But still, the same old pretty Billiam."
When William gets compliments like this, he usually responds with a thank you or something. But when Gabe calls him cute or beautiful or even just says he likes his shirt, William turns into a fourteen year-old girl.
He giggles yet again and it's a little pathetic in a way. He can't help what Gabe does to him. "Well, uh, thanks, I guess."
"Grow your hair out," Gabe tells him suddenly, finding his fingers playing with the longer pieces near his forehead. "For me?" He adds, almost pouting.
"Um..." William trails off, suddenly growing nervous at his friend's request.
"Please?" Gabe begs. "Please, please, please Bilvy? William? Bill? My sweetie lovely darling baby sweetheart? Please?"
He laughs at the ridiculous names and just says, "Eh, maybe."
"I missed you, you fucker," Gabe tells him again after a moment.
"Yeah," is all William can think to say.
"No," He starts again. "I missed you, like...I mean, a lot. You know? I-I really..."
William turns and faces Gabe this time, slightly confused.
"I missed you," Gabe sighs, biting his lip. "I-I really did, man. I've been fucked up. I-I did, really..." He trails off, and looks to the floor.
The sudden mood change in his friend alerts the younger man, and his brows furrow.
"Hey." William puts his hand on top of Gabe's without much thought. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Gabe's quick to snap himself out of his gaze by taking a long drink, moving his hand quickly away from Bill's. "There nothing's wrong."
He tries smiling but it's the smile William knows as Gabe's fake smile. Because he just knows him that well. Or maybe he just used to.
"No," he insists this time. "Tell me. What's wrong?"
It's Gabe's turn to be painfully awkward because he realized he fucked up the original intention of his visit. He just wanted to see if William was still there for him. And now he's gone and fucked it up with his feelings. He always fucks things up with his feelings. Always.
"Dude, I don't know what you're talking about, because nothing is-"
William suddenly presses his lips to Gabe's, and for a moment he feels free and happy and alive, but pulls away before the other man has time to react.
God, he'd missed that feeling.
"...Oh," Gabe says, and looks kind of hurt. Confused.
William's blushing. Damnit. Fucking idiot. He's a fucking idiot. "W-What?"
"I thought you...wanted to make out. Or something. But then you stopped."
Gabe was trying not to, but he starts smiling anyway, coaxing a smile out of William as well.
"You fucker," William says this time, and reattaches their lips in a split second. And William's starting to feel too William again because Gabe's being too Gabe. But he's feeling like it might be alright this time. He likes who he becomes when Gabe's around, the one thing he hasn't been in a while.
Himself.