I Hate You.
Title: I Hate You.
Pairing/band: Gabilliam!
Author: shanrio
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Gabe & William would almost completely hate each other if it weren't for the love.
Word count; 2,730
Warnings: sex & swearing, my two favorite things.
Notes: I am so new to LJ it's almost painful, but I'm so not new to writing slash. (:
Gabe hates that William sets the table with the forks on the left side. Because, hello, not everyone is left-handed. Namely, Gabe is right-handed.
William hates how Gabe can bring the size of his dick into every conversation, and yes, every single fucking one.
Gabe sometimes hates when William's fingers play in the dips of his abs like piano keys, brushing the skin gently as they curl up under stained blankets with equally stained skin; it reminds him of how smooth, pale and beautiful William is. Gabe gets jealous, so he hates it when William plays with his abs.
But he doesn't say anything.
William kinda really hates the way Gabe calls him 'Guillermo' during sex; he blushes way too hard and comes way too fast without being touched.
But he doesn’t complain.
Instead, they fight over every single thing that doesn't bother them. Gabe yells at William when the boy leaves the orange juice cap a little skewed on the bottle; William ignores Gabe for a whole day when the man leaves his cigarettes on the table. And that's all it takes- a wrong look, something laying around, a window left open, a tangled shower curtain or just the orange juice bottle cap.
But if anything changed, they would hate it.
According to their friends, they're on the verge of breaking up. Gabilliam is on that razor-thin edge, teetering every so slightly with every biting word and every kiss. Anyone who sees them coming hauls ass in the other direction- if Gabe and William are together, they're fighting; it's brutal. No one wants to be around them, and their relationship is falling apart over orange juice and cigarettes.
So they do the sensible thing; sign up for couple's counseling.
**
"I hate you, I hope you know," Gabe mutters to the other in a lazy waiting room, ankle hooked on his knee and William wonders how he can sit like that when those jeans are the tightest he owns.
"I love you too," William replies sarcastically to the other, giving Gabe's arm a good punch.
Gabe punches him back. When William doesn't move to reciprocate the violence, Gabe tugs at William's long hair, earning a smack to his hand accompanied by a scowl. The kind of face William puts on to say, 'you son of a bitch, fuck off'. But Gabe's always been bad at listening, so he continues to piss off his boyfriend little by little, saying dirty things in his ear while he pokes at his too-thin wrists, sides, ribs. Anything to make him squirm (in either annoyance or arousal, because Gabe's the only person good at both at the same time) in that chair.
William keeps pushing him away, swatting away provoking fingers because Gabriel is a fucking nuisance and he hates it. When the doctor comes out of her office, the two are already bickering.
They even snap at each other from the couch in the waiting room to the couch in the office. The doctor sits across from them, merely watching, taking mental notes. She can tell how much they love each other, but man can she tell how much they piss each other off.
"I'm Dr. Christine," she says suddenly- loud, splitting their fight and they look at her, "I assume you're Gabriel and William?" They both nod, sitting so far apart from the other you mightn't think they're even acquainted. They all just sit there for a few moments- she's letting the two cool off from their fight, one of many from just today, she's sure.
"I hate when you set the table left-handed. 'Cause I'm not."
"But I am," William defends, "It's just habit. And you always talk about your dick."
"But you like my dick." This makes William blush and he really, really fucking hates when Gabe does this to him. Yeah, of course he loves it, but he doesn't love hearing about it.
The boy's lips are bitten raw when he takes a deep breath, "I hate when you call me Guillermo when we're having… sex."
"Why?" Gabe questions with a teasing smile, "You come so hard and you've so red-" William's horrified stare is enough to shut him up. Dr. Christine smiles at the two, only slightly deterred by how open Gabriel is; she's not sure how much she wants to deal with him. But if anything changed, they would hate it.
"Write down actual things that you dislike about each other," she instructs them, handing them each a pad of paper and a pen. "You won't have to tell the other, just get them out." William's almost excited- pen and paper are his forte. He knows how to do this, he's already scrawling a list down- Gabe's sitting there, trying to think of legitimate things he hates about the other boy. Not quirks- actual flaws that he has issues with.
Gabe leans to peek at William's pad of paper and the boy holds it to his chest defensively.
"I swear, Gabriel, you're like a fucking kid," William mutters. Gabe huffs and he turns the other way. It doesn't take long for them both to finish their lists, both short, both scrawled in messy, angry handwriting. They want it to be known that the other is not perfect
"Face each other," Dr. Christine says, and when neither of them move, she huffs, standing to grab Gabe's shoulder and jerk him to face William, who merely smirks. Gabe rolls his eyes. "Now read off your lists."
Both of their faces fall and they stare up at her, "You said we weren't!" William says, genuinely upset because he can't bullshit on the spot; he does not want Gabriel to know what's spilled by the ink.
"But mine's shit," Gabe complains, looking at his paper.
She shows pretty white teeth and sits, "Read. Gabe first, if you want."
"I don't want."
"Too bad," she says.
So Gabe's fingers toll the top edge of the paper uncomfortably, shifting to sit on his legs. William watches all of this, cataloging each movement in his head and filing them under 'not good'. He knows every shift of the muscle under Gabe's skin, having traced them with his finger, his fingers or any other body part.
He just knows his man.
"I… I hate," Gabe reads off of his paper, "When William-"
"No," Dr. Christine interrupts him, holding up a hand, "Talk to him. Not to me. Tell him what bothers you." So Gabe takes a deep breath, looking straight at his lover; he suddenly doesn't think he can do this. He needs that soft assurance of William's hand- he leans forward, lacing their fingers together. William doesn't pull away. He merely moves his thumb over the top of Gabe's hand, watching the man's face change through faces he's never had to confront before now.
"I hate when you," Gabe corrects himself, still staring hard at his paper to avoid William's searching doe-like eyes, "I hate when you nag at me for every little thing I do. I just leave things out sometimes and forget them. It's not to make you upset." When William opens his mouth to retort, Dr. Christine shoots him a look. So he gives up, eyes searching for something to say that won't cut too deep.
"I hate t-that you're l-lazy," William's tongue is tied and he hate this anticipation of the confrontation, the close quarters and the quiet tone they use, "You won't p-p-pick up after yourself but you'll g-go to the gym to make yourself look g-good, or spend hours in front of the mirror to g-go out without me, a-and you c-can't even swipe your cigarettes from the table or… or put the cereal back in the c-cup-cupboard, or even make the goddamn bed. You'll walk miles for sex a-and don't deny it, because you've done it before. But… it just k-kills me."
They're quiet for a while. William sits there, hurting and thinking that's he's ruined this whole thing being a whiney, nagging bitch again.
Gabe's trying to embed it in his head to pick up after himself more often so William won't have to. "Your turn," the boy says meekly, looking back down at his paper.
"I hate when you put me through dry spells to make me prove my love because really, there are much better things I could be doing with you than cuddling. I'm not gonna lie, I love cuddling but I love sex, and I love sex with you. I don't think I need to abstain from fucking you to let you know I love you."
"I hate that you always want sex but you don't want affection. It's like you don't love me at all and you're only with me because of my body," William automatically counters without even looking at his paper. Both Dr. Christine and Gabe are silent. Gabe stares at William, genuinely hurt and the boy looks back, Oh fuck, I've ruined us, I've ruined us, I've gone and ruined everything now, running through his mind. It's been a game of cat-and-mouse, taunting each other for their obvious flaws.
But now it's a different level, it's a challenge of real feelings. William can't even bear to look at Gabe.
"Guillermito," and William knows right then how bad he's hurt Gabe by the tone he's using, that's child's hurt, deprived broken voice that only comes out once every five years, "I do love you. I… I do love the sex, but… I love touching you. I touch you because I love you! I always want you. I mean.. fuck, yeah, the sex is amazing, why shouldn't I wat it? But… Watching you sleep all curled up next to me is good too. And I do it, I watch you fall asleep every night with your fingers against your mouth, your legs pulled up to wrap around mine. I love seeing your hair undone every morning, and watching the muscles in your back shift as you stretch and God, your arms, your legs are so long. I love how awkward you are in your body, it makes me loves you even more. A-And.. I love the way that you groan just a little but when you first take a piss in the morning or the way that you make that soft mewing sound if I play with your hair the right way if you're tired enough-"
William laughs because he's nervous, "I get it."
"You don't." And Gabe is completely serious. "I am always affectionate with you." At this, William rolls his eyes and the older man sits up a little straighter, a little more hurt. "Even when I'm not full-out spooning you… I always touch you because I love you and... " Gabe pauses; he really doesn't want the vulnerable side of him to peek out, but if that's what it takes to have this boy smile at him again, then he'll do it. "I touch you because I need to know you're there, and that you want me as much as I want you. You're too beautiful for me, Guillermo. I.. I hold your hips when we stand in line, I kiss your hair…" He glances down at their hands. "I even hold your hand when we're close to breaking up and we're at couple's counseling. I just need to touch you. I'm holding onto you, William. I love you too much to let you go."
They sit like that for a while. Just looking at each other, William's lip captured between his teeth; Gabe wanting to pull it away.
"Well… now that… I've hurt you," William pauses, "It's your turn. Just… just tell me. Don't filter it. Just say it." And he's suddenly terrified that Gabe is going to come right out saying he hates how much of a bitch William is. He's going to tell this doctor that William's not worth his time, that this is a waste of money and he's only been with the boy because he knows how to use those hips right under the sheets (in closets, in dressing rooms, against the wall, in the shower, on the floor, in the hallway, in the kitchen, on the counter, in the car, against a tree, etc…).
Gabe's staring at the floor while not really looking; the silence is killing William slowly with each bah-boom his heart can thud in his hollow chest.
"I hate that you doubt me," Gabe says finally. William crumbles next to him.
"I don't."
"You do. You doubt that I love you when I drink; you doubt that I wanna be with you. You doubt I won't cheat when I'm on tour, you're on tour. Both. I don't… I always believe you love me. Always. Sometimes, I don't think you'll put up with my shit anymore, because no one does but you, and I still know you love me. Yet… you doubt me. A… And it hurts, William. It really fucking hurts." And the two are back to just staring at each other. William suddenly leans forward and kisses Gabe- kisses him so hard the man thinks his lips are bleeding, but neither of them care. Gabe's hands are firm on William's hips, drinking in his body through fingertips merely for the fact that he loves this boy so much that it hurts sometimes. William crawls into his lap though he knows he's too tall to fit, so he simply wraps his legs tight about Gabe's waist, keeping their lips attached.
The boy pulls away, red-faced and half-hard, "take me home." And Gabe does so. The boys give Dr. Christine careless goodbyes and she merely watches them leave her office. Gabe drives William home- barely; the boy nearly causes a car crash with that hot little mouth of his. He's got Gabe coming so hard at a red light that the man has to pull over, his fingers rooted almost permanently in chestnut hair.
When they finally do get home, the frenzied desperation is gone, but Gabe carries William to bed either way, and William rides him because that's just how they are. They fuck three times before bed, each time less fucking, more of lovemaking. Each time, the name "Guillermo" slips out, and William's coming so hard with his fingers against his lips his chest turns red. He cries out so obscenely with each quick orgasm it pulls Gabe over the edge as well. William hates that he comes so fast- but he doesn't mind as Gabe follows soon after.
But they don't make love, they do that in butterfly kisses added to gentle, subtle touches at all times of the days they're together. The younger boy falls asleep curled up to Gabe's side, and the man watches the smooth chest rise and fall gently. He pulls William closer, burying his face in the hair that smells of strawberries and summer.
But if anything changed, they would hate it.
The next morning, William stretches, Gabe's eyes roaming every single muscle that pops under that pale skin. And when William goes to the bathroom, he makes sure to shut the door after him.
"I love you," the boy admits as he watches Gabe make breakfast. Gabe glances over his shoulder with a smile.
"I love you too." William smiles as well, going to the fridge and pouring two glasses of orange juice. As he puts the bottle back, he makes sure the cap is screwed on tightly. After they eat breakfast (playing footsies the whole time and flirting shamelessly over pancakes) William does the dishes for his boyfriend, promising him he'll stay in his boxers while he cleans. Gabe hates cleaning, and the boy hates when Gabe cleans because he half-asses it.
But when the man catches the sight of his cigarettes on the coffee table, he's sure to snatch them up, shoving them in his hoodie pocket in the closet before William sees.
They argue about whose turn it is to do laundry; William's upset that Gabe is constantly leaving the window open from his little smoke breaks. But the fight ends with him riding Gabe on the floor- slow and sweet, lips searching for gentle words, nails scratching at skin through an quick orgasm (because of that fucking name), a muffled cry.
Because that's just the way they are.
And if anything changed, they would hate it.