TIME AFTER TIME
Title: Time after time
Author: luvvera
Pairing: Gabe/William, Ryan/Brendon, mentions of Travis/William
POV: 1rst. Ryan's
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Yeah, you know, I totally own them. Title belongs to Cindy Lauper.
Summary:
William even admitted having the hugest crush on Gabe while he was a teenager, and Gabe has always claimed that, if he had met a teenage William, he wouldn’t have cared about legality and totally would have married him. They joke about it all the time. Gabilliam, the fans call them, and they call themselves that too. They kiss and hug and touch and play around the idea of being together. Except we all know it isn’t a game.
Warning: boy's kissing? what a lame warning.
Author Notes: I don't even know where this came from. I've just finished writing it.
TIME AFTER TIME
The club’s getting fuller and fuller with people with every second that passes. Everyone’s laughing and smiling and drinking and having a hell of a good time. It’s one of those nights that you can bet will be amazing from the doorstep of the club; those nights that, before showing up, you make sure you’ve got enough coffee and aspirins for the next night.
Not me, though, but because I’m just not one of those who are hangover after partying. Maybe it’s because I have good tolerance to alcohol, or because I’m too busy every night looking after Brendon to even have time to drink.
You see, I’m one of those people who worry in advance. Back when we were younger, I used to worry every time we’d go out, wondering what we would do if the security guards found out Bren’s ID was fake. After he turned twenty one, I started worrying about his drinking habits. Not that he drank too much or anything, but thanks to Mr. Gabriel Saporta, he developed some sort of addiction towards Red Bull and Vodka. Now, imagine Brendon, a person who has more sugar than blood in his body, who has been diagnosed with ADHD by more than ten different doctors and who bounces around more than a hyperactive bunny. Now add to that a couple of cans of liquid, colored sugar and three measures of vodka. You can figure out the rest.
Going out with Brendon means I start worrying by noon. Of the previous day. I have to make sure he doesn’t tell too many people where we’re going, to avoid the fan girls’ rape attempts toward him, make sure he doesn’t have much sugar that same day, and give him loads of water, or he might dehydrate. You may think this is all a bit farfetched, but really, when it comes to Brendon, it’s not.
I may worry too much, but it’s only normal, considering the type of lifestyle we chose. Being with Brendon, or around Brendon, or just passing by him on the hallway, it means taking care of two instead of one, and having the emergency room on speed dial. All the same, I do think it’s all worth it. I don’t mind being all paranoid and overprotective, as long as I can spend a night out with him.
Tonight, though, I’m not worried about Brendon. I have him secured by my side with an arm around his waist, and he’s already a bit tipsy, so the chances of him running away and getting hit by a truck are lower than normally. He’s with me, and he’s safe, but still there’s something on my mind that’s been bugging me since earlier today.
It’s all Brendon’s fault, really, if you come to think of it. He was the one to convince me to go to Cobra’s bus earlier today, since it was the time of their set and it was supposed to be empty. It’s Jon and Spencer’s fault too, because of all their “no sex on the bus” rules. Brendon has the soul of a teenager, he’s horny, he has needs, and who am I to deny it to him.
So I agreed to go to Cobra’s bus during their set and make use of the faux leather couch everyone always talks about. I admit it I’m partially guilty too, I know that, but who can turn down sex with Brendon? Certainly not me.
I’d figured William would be backstage, watching his best-friend perform, like he usually did, so imagine my shock when Brendon and I stumbled our way into Cobra’s bus and found William in the middle of a make out session with Travis.
Both Brendon and I, we froze on the spot, not knowing what to do, but luckily for us, neither William nor Travis heard us, so we started backing out slowly, as silently as we could. We were already at the door when Brendon bumped into something. Of course, as hyper as that boy is, how could I have expected him to be quiet and careful?
Nothing major would have happened if Brendon had hit a lamp, or a table, or a guitar case, but we’re not that lucky, and Brendon hit a person. Not any person, but a very surprised and rather disappointed Gabe Saporta.
“What…? Bill?” He asked, his voice kind of broken.
I took Brendon’s hand and rushed out of there, followed closely by a proud-looking Travis McCoy. Before entering our own bus, Brendon shouted at him:
“You know you’ve ruined everything right?”
Back to right now, I’m at the club with Brendon and most of the guys from the tour. Except for Gabe and William. Bren and I agreed not to tell anyone about the little scene we witnessed, and since he’s drunk, I’m the only one worrying about what may or may not have happened after we left.
In my mind, I’ve already imagined a zillion outcomes, but all are far from ideal. I’ve pictured fights and shouts and insults, all with either a nasty or a lovely ending, though I know they’re unlikely to happen. The chances are Gabe won’t say anything to William; he’ll just swallow all his pain and disappointment and then come to the club to drown it all in vodka. Bill, he’ll either lock himself on the bus to write, or he’ll go to someone. I know my friends, and I know that they’re probably doing that right now, as I think this.
We’ve all been waiting for Gabe and William to get together since Cobra Starship got signed. We all know they’re the ideal couple, perfect for each other. William, the shy but confident boy with a hell of an attitude, number one Midtown fan and quieter everywhere but on stage, and Gabe, loud and quirky, charming and yet full of doubts, the front man who only wants to please his fans.
William even admitted having the hugest crush on Gabe while he was a teenager, and Gabe has always claimed that, if he had met a teenage William, he wouldn’t have cared about legality and totally would have married him. They joke about it all the time. Gabilliam, the fans call them, and they call themselves that too. They kiss and hug and touch and play around the idea of being together. Except we all know it isn’t a game.
Me, I’m kind of tired of the whole thing by know. If Gabe wasn’t my friend, I’d probably just tell William to go with Travis and just forget about the whole thing. I can’t though, but I try and stay out of the whole thing, unlike Pete, who always gets in everyone’s business.
Gabe and William are my friends, my best friends, and so I can’t forget about the whole thing. It’s been years revolving around Gabe and William and why they can’t be together. First there was Christine, and then Bianca, and then Christine again. They’re both single now, but still nothing has happened.
Pete says he eavesdropped on them once, and from what he heard, William told Gabe he wasn’t ready to be in a relationship with anyone. Whether they were just talking about relationships, or Gabe had really confessed his feelings, we don’t know, but Pete is pretty sure that Bill’s words are the reason they’re not together.
I walk to the bar, dragging Bren with me, and on my way I find Alex, who looks just as worried as I do. I figure, he must have been right behind Gabe when we left the bus.
“I haven’t seen Gabe around,” he tells me, and I nod, because I haven’t either, “Any idea where he might be?”
“Jumping from a bridge, probably,” Brendon suggest with a grin, making me realize he’s drunker than I thought.
“You know, I’ve never seen him like that,” Alex continues, “So, broken. He could hardly speak when he found William.”
“Did you hear what he said?” I ask.
“It was painful to watch,” Alex says as he nods, “Gabe just stared at Bill for a few seconds, and said ‘I thought you weren’t ready’. Then he left.”
It’s not what I had expected from Gabe, but I have the feeling it’s even worse. The fact that he wasn’t his loud self to confront the situation only means that he wasn’t himself, he wasn’t right.
I frown as I walk away from Alex, my hand holding Brendon’s, and he whispers to me:
“Everything will turn out just fine,” and he points to the door.
Gabe is standing there, wearing huge grin on his face. We are all, or at least most of us are, looking at him, expecting him to make a big entrance and start offering shots on the house, even though he knows the label’s paying for everything. Depressed or not, that’s Gabe style, and we’re all awaiting to see what he does.
Instead, what we get is a rather quiet Gabe, who gets in holding hands with Bill. They ignore everything and everyone, and walk straight to the V.I.P. room, waving at us through the glass wall.
We can see everything from our side, and we stare, wondering what will happen next.
William says something to Gabe, and of course we can’t hear, so it could be anything, but Gabe goes over to the bar, and Bill waits for him sitting on one of the plastic sofas spread around the room. When Gabe returns, he hands a margarita to William, who only takes a sip before settling it on the floor. Then, Gabe leans over him, pressing his lips against William’s.
And we’re almost freaking out. Well, I know I am, and everyone around is whistling and yelling obscenities -yeah, that was Pete. They continue to kiss, not paying attention at all the words, even though we know they can hear us. Next to me, Brendon is tugging on my shirt.
“See Ryro?” he says, “You worry over nothing.”
And he’s probably right.