fic: his girl friday
his girl friday
Travis/William
PG13, 1, 524
mentions of past lives and modern reincarnation, language warning, title from the academy is
William likes to live dangerously. “But the problem with those sort of matters is that I’ll have to wait years before I get a new heart and I don’t think death by well placed sarcastic humor qualifies as a reason for reincarnation.”
At some point in time they always bump into each other. It’s destiny but sometimes William likes to believe that destiny is a real bitch.
“Uhm,” he says from behind the jail bars. “Hi?”
Travis is looking at him indefinitely. “Hey,” he says. “Long time no see.”
William manages a smile because Travis doesn’t seem that angry, not after everything that’s gone on between them. “You know,” he says. “When I imagined this situation in my head I always imagined me behind the bars, not you.”
“Weird how these things work out,” William says with a nod. “Mind bailing me out?”
Travis leans back against the jail wall and examines him. Maybe it’s just William but Travis looks a lot lighter than he remembers, a lot taller. There’s definitely more tattoos.
“Listen,” William says. “I know you sort of hate me but I promise not to take off this time.”
“I wonder where I’ve heard that one before.”
There’s too much history behind them for Travis to just leave William in jail, way too much history so William’s really counting on Travis to remember this. He leans his whole weight against the jail bars and purses his lips. “Travie,” he coos. “The faster you get me out of here the faster we can get reacquainted.”
Travis’ eyebrow lifts. “I’m not falling for your old tricks again Billy Boy,” he says. “But I have missed your oral skills. You could always give a wonderful speech.”
“I can do more than give you a wonderful speech.”
They stare each other down for a bit until Travis indicates to an officer. It costs fifty bucks to bail William out and he has a court date set for next Monday (which he does not plan to attend) but William feels relieved to be out from behind the bars. William plans on racing off into the night but Travis has a firm grip on his shoulder.
“I know you,” he says. “You have that look in your eyes.”
William tries to brush his hand off with no avail. “I simply do not know what you are talking about, Travis.”
Travis’ grip tightens. “You’re about to run off into the night never to be seen again until you need my help.”
William fakes being offended. “It kills me that you would think - after all these years - that I would simply just run off without even saying thank you. Really Travis, just stab me through the heart, right now. Stab me.”
The problem with having so much history is that Travis knows all of William’s old tricks. He can tell by Travis’ face that Travis is far from impressed with anything William has to say. “Right,” Travis says. “I can tell that it’s just killing you.”
By the end of the night William’s going to have triple the amount of wrinkles he already has. He frowns. “You break my heart.”
“Funny how those things work out,” Travis replies. “You could always get a new one once you die.”
“Yes, yes,” William manages to sneak out from Travis’s grip on his shoulder but Travis’ hand slips down to William’s waist and oh, William’s sort of missed that. Travis’ hand could just crush William’s hip with just one well placed squeeze. William likes to live dangerously. “But the problem with those sort of matters is that I’ll have to wait years before I get a new heart and I don’t think death by well placed sarcastic humor qualifies as a reason for reincarnation.”
“Then we better stop meeting like this,” Travis says with a squeeze. William feels the pressure on his hip, bites his lip and manages to turn around in Travis’ grip so his nose is buried in Travis’ neck. “I would hate to carry on my destiny without you.”
“You’d die too,” William says and sucks in the smell of weed and grass and summer through his nose. Even after a zillion billion different years Travis still smells the same as the first time they met (given that back then weed wasn’t so illegal and technically isn’t what it is today, given). “Our destines are intertwined, or whatever that old geezer said.”
“You speak highly of your father.” Travis still feels the same as well, big and broad and nothing like William’s gangly and not so proportionate skinny limbs.
“He never spoke highly of me,” William grumbles into Travis’ skin and leaves a trail of spit when he pulls away.
Travis doesn’t bother to wipe the spit away, just manages to pull away from William and flop down onto a nearby bus bench. “Oh no, the poor prince wasn’t loved by his own father.” William’s free to runaway now but he slides into his place next to Travis with ease.
“Shutup,” he says. “If I remember correctly you were never loved by your father either.”
“Different circumstances,” Travis says easily. “I was a slave and wasn’t supposed to know my dad. You were a prince and were supposed to take over the manly duties of king hood and so of course your dad had to hate you. He had to shape you into the overly obnoxious, princely king. I think it worked.”
“You’re an ass.”
“Never said I wasn’t.”
To be quite honest, which, really, is a rare thing for William, he’s missed Travis. The last time they had met had not ended so well with Travis dying and all and William getting away with whatever they had been doing (something about smoke and drugs and women, William can’t really remember). It had ended fairly though because two days later William tripped on a curb and was hit by a bus and died.
It’s been thirty years since they last saw each other, and William’s happy that they both remember what happened in their past lives at the same time and not just with William remembering or Travis remembering because it gets tricky then.
(There’s been times when William remembers and Travis hasn’t, doesn’t remember that they were past lovers or past comrades in arms, not until the very end and then Travis dies. It’s been vice versa too, with William remembering right then, right before destiny decides it’s time to start them over again. And then there are times like this, when they both remember and know with first glance.)
William would ask Travis what he’s been up to, but William has a feeling it’s had a lot to do with searching for him and maybe another tattoo or two. Every time they’re reincarnated Travis assembles the same tattoos, always another or five. William wonders if he remembers the pain each time.
“I’m hungry,” Travis says. “Let’s get food.”
William drapes himself across Travis. “I’m too tired to walk. Let’s wait for the bus.”
Travis grabs a gangly wrist and runs his thumb over a vein. “It’s two-thirty in the morning Bilvy, a bus isn’t coming.”
“Whatever,” William says. “I command you to carry me then.”
Travis stands but he makes no move to carry the ex-prince. “Yeah, no,” he says. “Times have changed. You can’t boss me around anymore not unless you want to get sued for racism.”
“Oh god, not racism.” William leans his head back against the bench, squeezes his eyes shut before he opens them and swings his arms out at Travis. “Come on, help me up.”
“For an ex-prince you would think you’d have more manners,” but Travis helps William up by his elbows anyway and doesn’t complain when William leans his whole weight against him. “Want to know something?” William says into Travis’ shoulder.
“No, not really, but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me anyway.”
“I saw Gabriel the other day,” William continues after he slaps Travis on the stomach. “He’s a snake wrangler in Florida.”
Travis nods. “I hear Florida has a sever snake problem.”
“Yes, yes,” William agrees. “He’s still going on about the cobras and those flying machines. Not planes but what are they called?”
“UFOs,” Travis supplies.
William’s face lights up, he nods. “UFOs. He keeps going on about UFOs and this bunny suit. I think he’s crazier then he’s ever been. Did I also mention that he’s five-years-old?”
“No, you didn’t,” Travis says.
“Oh, well, he’s five-years-old and already knows how to curse your existence and your mother’s in both Spanish and English, mostly Spanish though.”
“It’s a real shame,” Travis says as they draw closer to the center of town. He doubts any real fine establishments will be open at two-thirty in the morning, but the sound of drunken screaming is getting louder. Hopefully the bar might still be serving food. “I was really hoping that he’d be at least legal this time around. Real shame.”
William nods in agreement. “Really, real shame. Guess it’s just the two of us until someone else turns up.”
Travis has had one arm around William’s shoulder since they started to walk. It tightens, just a little, and William buries his nose back into Travis’ neck and kisses just below his ear. It’s always really just been the two of them, so he doesn’t mind, not really.
Travis/William
PG13, 1, 524
mentions of past lives and modern reincarnation, language warning, title from the academy is
William likes to live dangerously. “But the problem with those sort of matters is that I’ll have to wait years before I get a new heart and I don’t think death by well placed sarcastic humor qualifies as a reason for reincarnation.”
At some point in time they always bump into each other. It’s destiny but sometimes William likes to believe that destiny is a real bitch.
“Uhm,” he says from behind the jail bars. “Hi?”
Travis is looking at him indefinitely. “Hey,” he says. “Long time no see.”
William manages a smile because Travis doesn’t seem that angry, not after everything that’s gone on between them. “You know,” he says. “When I imagined this situation in my head I always imagined me behind the bars, not you.”
“Weird how these things work out,” William says with a nod. “Mind bailing me out?”
Travis leans back against the jail wall and examines him. Maybe it’s just William but Travis looks a lot lighter than he remembers, a lot taller. There’s definitely more tattoos.
“Listen,” William says. “I know you sort of hate me but I promise not to take off this time.”
“I wonder where I’ve heard that one before.”
There’s too much history behind them for Travis to just leave William in jail, way too much history so William’s really counting on Travis to remember this. He leans his whole weight against the jail bars and purses his lips. “Travie,” he coos. “The faster you get me out of here the faster we can get reacquainted.”
Travis’ eyebrow lifts. “I’m not falling for your old tricks again Billy Boy,” he says. “But I have missed your oral skills. You could always give a wonderful speech.”
“I can do more than give you a wonderful speech.”
They stare each other down for a bit until Travis indicates to an officer. It costs fifty bucks to bail William out and he has a court date set for next Monday (which he does not plan to attend) but William feels relieved to be out from behind the bars. William plans on racing off into the night but Travis has a firm grip on his shoulder.
“I know you,” he says. “You have that look in your eyes.”
William tries to brush his hand off with no avail. “I simply do not know what you are talking about, Travis.”
Travis’ grip tightens. “You’re about to run off into the night never to be seen again until you need my help.”
William fakes being offended. “It kills me that you would think - after all these years - that I would simply just run off without even saying thank you. Really Travis, just stab me through the heart, right now. Stab me.”
The problem with having so much history is that Travis knows all of William’s old tricks. He can tell by Travis’ face that Travis is far from impressed with anything William has to say. “Right,” Travis says. “I can tell that it’s just killing you.”
By the end of the night William’s going to have triple the amount of wrinkles he already has. He frowns. “You break my heart.”
“Funny how those things work out,” Travis replies. “You could always get a new one once you die.”
“Yes, yes,” William manages to sneak out from Travis’s grip on his shoulder but Travis’ hand slips down to William’s waist and oh, William’s sort of missed that. Travis’ hand could just crush William’s hip with just one well placed squeeze. William likes to live dangerously. “But the problem with those sort of matters is that I’ll have to wait years before I get a new heart and I don’t think death by well placed sarcastic humor qualifies as a reason for reincarnation.”
“Then we better stop meeting like this,” Travis says with a squeeze. William feels the pressure on his hip, bites his lip and manages to turn around in Travis’ grip so his nose is buried in Travis’ neck. “I would hate to carry on my destiny without you.”
“You’d die too,” William says and sucks in the smell of weed and grass and summer through his nose. Even after a zillion billion different years Travis still smells the same as the first time they met (given that back then weed wasn’t so illegal and technically isn’t what it is today, given). “Our destines are intertwined, or whatever that old geezer said.”
“You speak highly of your father.” Travis still feels the same as well, big and broad and nothing like William’s gangly and not so proportionate skinny limbs.
“He never spoke highly of me,” William grumbles into Travis’ skin and leaves a trail of spit when he pulls away.
Travis doesn’t bother to wipe the spit away, just manages to pull away from William and flop down onto a nearby bus bench. “Oh no, the poor prince wasn’t loved by his own father.” William’s free to runaway now but he slides into his place next to Travis with ease.
“Shutup,” he says. “If I remember correctly you were never loved by your father either.”
“Different circumstances,” Travis says easily. “I was a slave and wasn’t supposed to know my dad. You were a prince and were supposed to take over the manly duties of king hood and so of course your dad had to hate you. He had to shape you into the overly obnoxious, princely king. I think it worked.”
“You’re an ass.”
“Never said I wasn’t.”
To be quite honest, which, really, is a rare thing for William, he’s missed Travis. The last time they had met had not ended so well with Travis dying and all and William getting away with whatever they had been doing (something about smoke and drugs and women, William can’t really remember). It had ended fairly though because two days later William tripped on a curb and was hit by a bus and died.
It’s been thirty years since they last saw each other, and William’s happy that they both remember what happened in their past lives at the same time and not just with William remembering or Travis remembering because it gets tricky then.
(There’s been times when William remembers and Travis hasn’t, doesn’t remember that they were past lovers or past comrades in arms, not until the very end and then Travis dies. It’s been vice versa too, with William remembering right then, right before destiny decides it’s time to start them over again. And then there are times like this, when they both remember and know with first glance.)
William would ask Travis what he’s been up to, but William has a feeling it’s had a lot to do with searching for him and maybe another tattoo or two. Every time they’re reincarnated Travis assembles the same tattoos, always another or five. William wonders if he remembers the pain each time.
“I’m hungry,” Travis says. “Let’s get food.”
William drapes himself across Travis. “I’m too tired to walk. Let’s wait for the bus.”
Travis grabs a gangly wrist and runs his thumb over a vein. “It’s two-thirty in the morning Bilvy, a bus isn’t coming.”
“Whatever,” William says. “I command you to carry me then.”
Travis stands but he makes no move to carry the ex-prince. “Yeah, no,” he says. “Times have changed. You can’t boss me around anymore not unless you want to get sued for racism.”
“Oh god, not racism.” William leans his head back against the bench, squeezes his eyes shut before he opens them and swings his arms out at Travis. “Come on, help me up.”
“For an ex-prince you would think you’d have more manners,” but Travis helps William up by his elbows anyway and doesn’t complain when William leans his whole weight against him. “Want to know something?” William says into Travis’ shoulder.
“No, not really, but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me anyway.”
“I saw Gabriel the other day,” William continues after he slaps Travis on the stomach. “He’s a snake wrangler in Florida.”
Travis nods. “I hear Florida has a sever snake problem.”
“Yes, yes,” William agrees. “He’s still going on about the cobras and those flying machines. Not planes but what are they called?”
“UFOs,” Travis supplies.
William’s face lights up, he nods. “UFOs. He keeps going on about UFOs and this bunny suit. I think he’s crazier then he’s ever been. Did I also mention that he’s five-years-old?”
“No, you didn’t,” Travis says.
“Oh, well, he’s five-years-old and already knows how to curse your existence and your mother’s in both Spanish and English, mostly Spanish though.”
“It’s a real shame,” Travis says as they draw closer to the center of town. He doubts any real fine establishments will be open at two-thirty in the morning, but the sound of drunken screaming is getting louder. Hopefully the bar might still be serving food. “I was really hoping that he’d be at least legal this time around. Real shame.”
William nods in agreement. “Really, real shame. Guess it’s just the two of us until someone else turns up.”
Travis has had one arm around William’s shoulder since they started to walk. It tightens, just a little, and William buries his nose back into Travis’ neck and kisses just below his ear. It’s always really just been the two of them, so he doesn’t mind, not really.