every minute of the day - William/Gabe
Every Minute Of The Day (William/Gabe, 3939)
Billy lost a little soul!
Secret Santa fic for airgiodslv, the best person ever in the universe! Big ups to adellyna for the handholding and handwaving, dreamofthem for telling me that it didn't suck, and hatoyona for the hardcore beta and for letting me whine at her all day and night. And for getting into a car with me when I was obviously too excited (about writing for airgiodslv! I AM NOT EVEN JOKING) to be driving. \o/ Parts of this may or may not have been inspired by late-night Simpsons' reruns. Shut up, I never pretended to be cool.
William lost his soul to Chislett on a bet in Europe. He was drunk. So was Chislett.
William lost his soul to Chislett on a bet in Europe. He was drunk. So was Chislett. They were arguing. That was all either of them claimed to remember.
William wrote it out on a piece of paper that Chislett folded up and put in his pocket for safe-keeping (because he was very serious about these things.) But Chislett also forgot and washed those trousers in Strasbourg and only remembered halfway through when William fell back into Gabe's arms, eyes wide.
"Oh baby," said Gabe. He was smirking, but his grip on William was tight. "I like it like that."
William leaned against Gabe's chest. He felt dizzy, something like being trapped in the surf, wet and washed up.
"Dude, I thought we decided to stop drinking in the morning," said Sisky, sitting on top of a dryer, knocking his heels against the dryer door. He kicked William's arm, grinning.
"We did," said William. He frowned as the world tilted in front of him. "I'm just, ah, just dizzy."
Gabe sat down, dragging William into his lap. "The same thing happens to me when I look in the mirror in the morning."
William elbowed him, struggling, but Gabe had him securely around the shoulders and he pressed William's head to his chest. His heart beat quick in William's ear. William looked up at him, squinting, but Gabe was looking away, making faces at Sisky.
And anyway after that Chislett kept better track of the paper that contained William's soul. William maybe started worrying a little bit. He hadn't thought it was real.
And it wasn't really hypothetical, but they did choose to ignore what might be true, because they were both skating around the argument that prompted the bet. That Chislett said, "your soul," and William laughed derisively because he could be an ass sometimes. And Butcher refilled their shotglasses with vodka and maybe that was the bet but either way William lost and gave his soul to Chislett.
But whatever. William wasn't worried, much. He just pulled his jacket tight, and grimaced more than he smiled.
If anyone asked anyone who wasn't in the immediate presence of William, his soul belonged to Gabe Saporta. This was because a few weeks after Gabe had met William, he, in a drunken fit of possessiveness, told Mikey Way that if anyone so much as laid claim to William's soul, he would fight them. Mikey Way laughed at Gabe, laughed so hard he fell off the barstool he had been perched upon, and continued laughing until they were kicked out of bar at which point he pulled out his sidekick and sent his ninety-sixth text message of the day to Pete Wentz.
gabe says hell fight anyone who takes williams soul.
And Pete apparently thought it was cute, so he told everyone he knew and asked them not to tell William Beckett. True love had to find its own way.
For whatever reason, everyone listened to Pete for once.
Gabe had mostly forgotten about that drunken night out with Mikey Way, until a fan joked that William Beckett must have sold his soul to the Devil for the set of pipes he received.
"What?" he said, looking up from the ticket he was signing. "Man, William Beckett's soul belongs to me."
The girls around them sighed and the boys snorted, jealous.
But Gabe was not joking. As far as he was concerned, William Beckett's soul belonged to him.
Way back when, way back in the day, when The Academy Is were on Warped, with Gym Class, without Gabe, Gabe called William and he called him a lot. One day between states, he called up and sang, "seven days a week, every minute of the day!"
Then he proposed they commit their souls in a union of love at the alter of the Cobra. Eternity and everything, wherever it was, the place where souls went. It would be fucking awesome, the both of them together.
"What are you on?" asked William suspiciously. He nodded at Sisky to continue the movie without him and left the back lounge of the bus. "You've been watching Runaway Bride, haven't you?"
"Whoa," said Gabe. "Fuck you too. I was watching that Cher movie-"
"Mermaids?"
"Give me some fucking credit. The one where she's Italian. And anyway, fuck you if you don't believe in true love. I believe. Come on Billy, let's do it, let us commune." He hummed, loud in William's ear. "I don't wanna change you, I just wanna see you- "
William climbed into his bunk and sat back. "I have a crush on Maja Ivarsson," he admitted, cutting Gabe off mid-verse. Gabe shouted in dismay. "I was trying to charm you, you fuck, not give you big ideas!"
William said, "wait, what?"
Gabe paused. "I miss you."
"I do too," said William. He knocked his knee against the wall of his bunk. "Yeah, I do too."
Backstage at Decaydance Paris was loud, joyous, but Gabe happened to be passing a dressing room alone when he heard Butcher say, laughing, "Chislett, you still have William's soul?"
"He hasn't asked for it back yet,"said Chiz, who sounded like he was also smiling. "I think he forgot about it."
Gabe's hands curled into fists, almost a reflex, and he remembered the last text message Mikey Way had sent him. smacked a bitch for bill beckett yet?
Gabe called him back immediately. "What bitch is making moves on my William?"
"Just you and half the up-and-coming generation of the emo scene," Mikey had replied. "But Frank's got a betting pool going. He's been following Honda Civic rumors."
"William remains unmolested," said Gabe. "Frank doesn't have to worry. Unless he wants to get with William. Then I will have to smack him."
"No, no," said Mikey. "His money is on you hooking up with William after punching Pete in the face."
"I would never," said Gabe, uncomfortable for the first time. "I am a good man. Pete's face couldn't be saved with my help anyway."
Mikey laughed out loud at that and hung up with a promise to call again soon.
William, for the record, had not forgotten and that was why he brought Chiz a cup of coffee in the morning while they were in London. Chiz smiled at him sleepily, a quiet salute from his bed. William wanted nothing more than to have his soul back. He pulled on a sweater and left their hotel room, shivering. He was always cold now, now that his body was no longer housing his soul. It was a weird empty feeling, oppressive and weightless in his limbs. He was tired.
"Really," said Chiz, again. "It's not like it's serious or anything."
"Maybe you can make sure William gets into heaven," laughed Mike. "Dude, seriously. You could always like, blackmail him or something. Whatever."
Chiz laughed with the others, but he sounded nervous. Gabe leaned forward, muscles tensed, but Chiz said, "nah. I don't need anything from him. I have his soul."
Gabe stalked off to find William, meeting Brendon Urie on the way. He stole the beer right out of the kid's hand and kept moving until he found William in Fall Out Boy's dressing room.
"Billvy," he said, collapsing on the couch next to William. "Billvy, this world is too much for you."
"Fuck off," said William without looking up from his phone. "It is not."
Gabe swung an arm around him. "I like you, man," said Gabe. "And I am for-fucking-serious, by the way."
William looked up. There was light in his eyes as he said, "for-fucking-serious?"
Gabe squeezed his shoulder, pulling him closer. "Yes. My seriousness cannot be quantified. "
William elbowed him and took his beer.
The flight across the Atlantic was cold and William was plagued with bad dreams. The fourth time he found himself awake and shivering, he gave up and looked around. His various bandmates and labelmates were spread out around the cabin, but only one other person had not yet fallen asleep.
He zipped up his hoodie to his chin, and, crossing his arms over his chest, threaded between the seats and slid into the seat next to Gabe. Gabe was writing furiously in his journal, sentences slanted and curling around the page. William pushed up the armrest and put his head on Gabe's shoulder. "What are you doing?" he whispered.
Gabe looked over at him, blank and expressionless with fatigue. "Cataloguing," he mumbled.
"What?"
"Friends versus kisses." He didn't slow down writing to talk, just kept on scribbling names and dates and scenes that may or may not have happened.
Gabe was only ever an insomniac when he traveled. William always thought Gabe took it as a personal challenge, staying up for so many hours in such a confined space. He was good at it too, one of the best William knew at running on nothing but a desire to keep going.
Gabe's hand stilled on the page. "How many times have we made out?"
William pushed his face into Gabe's shoulder, trying not to shiver so much. "Twice, I think."
"Is that all?" Gabe said, drawing the number and going over the lines again.
"Once for the cameras, once when we were drunk." William didn't remember the latter, which troubled him. Sisky had to inform him of his activities at that party after the night was through.
"When we were drunk?"
"At Travie's house. Or Pete's? Someone's house. Sisky told me, I don't remember."
Gabe doodled a cobra with the shape of a man in its stomach. "Hearsay doesn't count." He looked down at the open page. "What the fuck am I talking about?" he said, lip curling. "Half of this shit is hearsay."
William recognised the mood and said, quickly, a distraction, "You don't remember?"
Gabe didn't answer but scrawled one long line in his journal one for cameras, one for fun, drunk at pete/travie's house, room crashing like light, blv doesn't remember how awesome it was. neither do I.
William got up and grabbed a blanket from an overhead compartment and sat back down. He pulled the blanket up to his chin.
"Cold?" Gabe seemed to grow more exhausted every time William looked at him. "You want my jacket?"
"You're sure?" William was cold, shivering, almost shaking. He blamed Chiz and thought of his soul, tucked up warm in Chizzy's pocket.
Gabe took off his jacket and handed it to William. William pulled it on and settled against Gabe again. Gabe was doodling, drawing circles and squares in his journal. William took the hint and closed his eyes.
He fell asleep against Gabe's shoulder.
Gabe had an hour off in the studio on Sunday and he spent it watching Extreme Home Makeover with Victoria. He tried very hard not to cry and succeeded only by grinding his teeth together and squinting.
"Gabe," said Vicky T. "Gabe, you need to get laid."
Gabe unhinged his jaw long enough to snap irrationally, "I don't want to."
Vicky T laughed at him and got up off the couch. "I'm gonna get some coffee, you want any?"
Gabe shook his head. On screen, a weeping mother clutched her eldest son in a fit of joy. Gabe threw his head over the back on the couch and coughed.
"You should call William," said Vicky T. "That might make you feel better."
Gabe rumbled in her direction, jaw tight.
"Whatever," said Vicky T. "I'm getting you coffee, I don't care what you say."
"We fucked up," said Gabe. William was taken back; he hadn't expected those to be the first words he'd hear Gabe speak in over a month. He didn't care though, he was still glad to hear from him. "The hell?" said William. "The demos I heard sounded great." He frowned. The demos were great, and Patrick was a good producer.
"No," and William could just see him shaking his head and the image made him want to smile, "no, we fucked up the timing. We're done, dude. We need to go on tour and sell this motherfucker."
"Oh," said William. He tapped his fingers on the side of the stage. "Hey, come on tour with us."
"No way," said Gabe. "We couldn't."
"Yeah, no," said William. "Do it." Mike peered down at him and William grimaced up. Mike mouthed something intelligible and William murmured "Gabe." He waved Mike off and walked away from the stage into the theatre. "Gabe, it'll be great. Our fans love you. It'll be fun. Talk to Bob, see what he says."
"You're not tired of us?"
William snorted. Not quite a laugh, but something close and something nice. He was having a hard time laughing after he'd lost his soul. "Never."
"It would be nice to see Sisky Business again," said Gabe. "Alright. I'll talk to McLynn."
He was silent. William rolled his eyes. "What else? You haven't called in a month."
"Victoria says I need to get laid."
"That's usually true."
Gabe gasped. "You're supposed to be on my side," he said. "Has your heart gone cold in my absence? Alright, we'll do it. We'll tour. It's one thing to be playing at the bottom of the bill again, but to have my dearest friend turn against me in my hour of need. . ."
"Don't," warned William, putting a hand over his eyes. "Don't do it."
"Bottom of the bill," Gabe said. "I'm a genius."
"Gabe," whined William, failing to stop the amusement in his voice. "Gabe, you're better than this."
"I can't help it, man. And it works, because if we ever had sex, I would definitely be on top- "
William hung up and walked back to the stage. Mike nodded him. "How's our favorite snake charmer?"
"The album's done," said William, pulling himself on stage. "And they might join us on tour." He grinned, feeling it all the way into his empty bones.
Butcher cheered from the back of the stage, throwing a drumroll in celebration. Mike raised an eyebrow, but he didn't comment, just smiled back.
Gabe took to touring with The Academy Is like coming home. He spent his first hour before the show dancing with Butcher and ruffling Sisky's hair. He spent the second hour prank calling Mike. He cornered Chiz in the bathroom at the beginning of the third.
"I just want to wash my hands," said Chiz, looking at the sinks behind Gabe. "Is that cool?"
Gabe threw out his arms to block the sinks, and frowned. "Chislett, I will fight you."
"What is it?" said Chiz. He looked a little desperate. "I have to soundcheck soon."
"William's soul belongs to me," said Gabe. "Everyone knows that. I will fight you."
Chislett's eyes lit up. "Oh, I forgot I had it." He patted his pocket. "Don't worry, I take good care of it."
"I have a reputation to uphold," said Gabe. "I want that paper. Or I have to smack you."
"Oh, don't," said Chiz. "You don't need to worry."
"I do," said Gabe. "I really, really do. What if something happens to William?"
Chiz smiled at him suddenly. "William will be fine," he said, ducking under Gabe's arm to get to a sink. "William has you, he'll be alright."
William found his band in various states of dishevelment in the front lounge of their bus that evening. He put his hands on his hips. "What happened?" Then he caught himself and frowned, annoyed and jealous. "Gabe happened."
"Oh, Gabe," sighed Butcher. He raised his water bottle in toast. "What a great guy."
"The best," said Sisky, who was still trying to flatten his hair.
"Motherfucker," agreed Mike. "Chiz?"
"He's a good man," agreed Chiz, nodding. "Cornered me in the bathroom and challenged me to a fight."
"Cool," said Mike.
"So not cool," said William. "I didn't see him all evening."
"It's okay," said Chiz. "You don't need to worry."
William frowned at him.
The tour pulled out of the venue and Gabe was already safe on his bus but William called him, five minutes onto the road, with nothing but venom.
"You bastard," said William, sounding put out. "I graciously welcome you and your band of misfits onto my tour and you don't even take the time to thank me in person? You ingrate. I should send you to bed without supper."
Despite the venom in William's words, there was a certain warmth in his tone that Gabe had missed. He giggled, delighted.
"It's too late," he said, mouth full of candy. "Tooooo late."
"What are you eating?" William demanded. "Spit it out right now and go to bed."
"I been a bad boy," said Gabe, chewing as loudly as he could. "You should punish me."
William choked.
"Bad boy," continued Gabe, splitting open a fruit snack and offering it to Ryland. Ryland shook his head, eyebrows raised in distaste. Gabe shrugged and put the entire thing in his mouth. He started singing. "A bad, bad, bad, bad man."
"You're disgusting," said Nate. Gabe slapped his ass as he passed and Nate yelped, jumping up. Ryland burst out in laughter.
"I just wanted to say," said William, "that I demand you spend time with me when we get to our next destination. Perhaps then I will be able to find it in my heart to forgive you for this injustice."
He paused, for dramatic effect, Gabe thought. "I've been crying all night, truly."
Gabe couldn't help himself. "I love you," he said. It came out watery, juicy from the candy.
"What?" asked William. "Sorry, you're breaking up, say that again?"
"Good night, sleep tight" said Gabe. He hung up and tore into another wrapper.
"Seriously, so foul," said Nate. Gabe made grabby hands at Nate and Nate backed away.
"You're so happy to be here," said Ryland, snorting, but he looked fond.
After his fourth drink, William decided never to tour with three opening bands again. It was too easy to get backed into a dressing room and start shotgunning beers with friends. He'd had a mission for the evening and everything; find Gabe and punch him, then hug him. He hadn't seen the man since his band left the stage and it was starting to grate, how Gabe disappeared into the tour so fluidly.
A guitar tech tossed him another beer. William caught Chislett's eye and they downed their drinks at the same time. Chiz stumbled over. "William," he said. "We haven't done this in a while."
William shook his head. "You took my soul last time."
"No," said Chiz. He didn't look apologetic in the slightest. "I won it."
"Why?"
"I'm sorry," said Chiz. Butcher drifted past and handed them shotglasses. "I don't remember."
William drank to that.
"You know," said Chiz, after Butcher refilled their glasses. "You've stopped laughing, but now that the Cobras are back, you look a lot more happy, at least." He raised his glass. "Cheers?"
William nodded. "Cheers."
They drank, arms hooked through each other. Butcher was waiting at their side with a bottle of vodka.
"Gabe." William's voice was urgent and rough in his ear. "Gabe, wake up."
Gabe jerked and rolled over, coming face to chest with William. He looked up, squinting, eyes slow. "Billy, what- how did you get in here?"
"Alex let me in," William whispered. He put his elbows on the side of the bunk and leaned in. "Gabe, I need help."
"What's wrong?"
William breathed deep. "It's cold," he mumbled. "Chizzy stole my soul."
Gabe thought about that and how now he really did have to smack Chiz. He reached out to play with the strings on the hood of William's sweatshirt. "He couldn't," he said. "That's impossible."
"No," William shook his head, looking frantic. He was drunk, of course, but also tired and worn. "He won it in a bet. And now I'm cold and I can't laugh and Gabe," his voice dropped to a low whisper. "I can tell it's gone. I'm cold."
"No, Billvy," Gabe touched his sleeve, held the fabric between his thumb and pointer. "You're cold because it's like two o'clock in the morning and you just walked across a gas station in middle of fuck America and it's late October and you didn't wear enough layers."
He mostly just didn't want to believe that William's soul could leave his body, leave William so empty.
"No," William shook his head again, a violent motion, "no, Gabe, fuck, it was gone all the way back when we were in Europe."
"William, it's not-"
"Fucking shut up," said William. He grabbed Gabe's wrist and Gabe squirmed. William's hands were cold. "I lost a bet and he took my soul and I don't have anything inside of me and Gabe, you remember when I fell over while we were all doing our laundry? It's because he put my soul in the washing machine. I could feel it Gabe, I could-"
He was rubbing circles on Gabe's wrist in a distracted, rundown manner. Gabe sat up and interrupted his rambling. "Come here. Take your shoes off."
William kicked off his shoes and climbed up into bed with Gabe. Gabe shivered as William lay down next him. "Shit, Billy," he whispered. "You're freezing."
"I know," said William.
Gabe pulled his blanket over them and settled against William with his arms around him. "Chilly Billy," he mumbled.
"I have no soul," said William. "What happens if I die?"
"Shut up," said Gabe. He shifted, rubbed a thumb across William's hip. "Go to sleep."
William woke in the morning, only just remembering where he was. Gabe was asleep next to him, his hand warm on William's waist. William put a hand over Gabe's. He had a massive headache and the world past Gabe was blurry. He'd left his glasses on the other bus. Not that it mattered; it hurt to concentrate on anything too far away. He was exhausted.
His hands were still cold, but Gabe was warm. Gabe was warm and alive. William put a hand underneath Gabe's t-shirt, tracing up Gabe's ribcage.
Gabe woke up, hissing, eyes half-shut, "cold hands, Billy."
William didn't move, or apologise. He bit his lip and Gabe looked down at William's hand.
"Your eyes are bloodshot," Gabe whispered. "How drunk were you last night?"
William smiled as he smoothed down Gabe's chest. "Pretty drunk," he whispered, wincing. "Like Mexico with Gym Class. Or fucking, ugh." He put his other hand on Gabe's hip. "Like London."
"London after the festival?"
"Like Ryan and Pete without their girlfriends after the festival."
"Like Sisky after his girlfriend leaves?"
William shook his head. "Don't be mean to Sisky." His voice dropped and he grinned again. "But not that drunk."
"William," whispered Gabe. "Are you sure you don't have a soul?"
William ducked down, forehead to forehead with Gabe. "I'm cold, I don't laugh, I go flat during the chorus of Snakes-"
"You always go flat during the chorus." Gabe laughed, breath against William's.
William knocked his knees against Gabe, sliding one leg through Gabe's. "Fuck off."
He drew his fingers across Gabe's ribcage, up and down, tracing around one of Gabe's nipples. Gabe made a choked nose and whispered again, "cold hands, Billy," even as he leaned down and dropped his mouth against William's.
William closed his eyes and pulled Gabe closer, feeling, for the first time in months, warm.
Chislett placed an envelope marked Property of Gabe Saporta on the table and stepped off the bus, nodding at Ryland, who yawned in return. He had to get back to his bus; they'd be leaving the truck stop soon.
Billy lost a little soul!
Secret Santa fic for airgiodslv, the best person ever in the universe! Big ups to adellyna for the handholding and handwaving, dreamofthem for telling me that it didn't suck, and hatoyona for the hardcore beta and for letting me whine at her all day and night. And for getting into a car with me when I was obviously too excited (about writing for airgiodslv! I AM NOT EVEN JOKING) to be driving. \o/ Parts of this may or may not have been inspired by late-night Simpsons' reruns. Shut up, I never pretended to be cool.
William lost his soul to Chislett on a bet in Europe. He was drunk. So was Chislett.
William lost his soul to Chislett on a bet in Europe. He was drunk. So was Chislett. They were arguing. That was all either of them claimed to remember.
William wrote it out on a piece of paper that Chislett folded up and put in his pocket for safe-keeping (because he was very serious about these things.) But Chislett also forgot and washed those trousers in Strasbourg and only remembered halfway through when William fell back into Gabe's arms, eyes wide.
"Oh baby," said Gabe. He was smirking, but his grip on William was tight. "I like it like that."
William leaned against Gabe's chest. He felt dizzy, something like being trapped in the surf, wet and washed up.
"Dude, I thought we decided to stop drinking in the morning," said Sisky, sitting on top of a dryer, knocking his heels against the dryer door. He kicked William's arm, grinning.
"We did," said William. He frowned as the world tilted in front of him. "I'm just, ah, just dizzy."
Gabe sat down, dragging William into his lap. "The same thing happens to me when I look in the mirror in the morning."
William elbowed him, struggling, but Gabe had him securely around the shoulders and he pressed William's head to his chest. His heart beat quick in William's ear. William looked up at him, squinting, but Gabe was looking away, making faces at Sisky.
And anyway after that Chislett kept better track of the paper that contained William's soul. William maybe started worrying a little bit. He hadn't thought it was real.
And it wasn't really hypothetical, but they did choose to ignore what might be true, because they were both skating around the argument that prompted the bet. That Chislett said, "your soul," and William laughed derisively because he could be an ass sometimes. And Butcher refilled their shotglasses with vodka and maybe that was the bet but either way William lost and gave his soul to Chislett.
But whatever. William wasn't worried, much. He just pulled his jacket tight, and grimaced more than he smiled.
If anyone asked anyone who wasn't in the immediate presence of William, his soul belonged to Gabe Saporta. This was because a few weeks after Gabe had met William, he, in a drunken fit of possessiveness, told Mikey Way that if anyone so much as laid claim to William's soul, he would fight them. Mikey Way laughed at Gabe, laughed so hard he fell off the barstool he had been perched upon, and continued laughing until they were kicked out of bar at which point he pulled out his sidekick and sent his ninety-sixth text message of the day to Pete Wentz.
gabe says hell fight anyone who takes williams soul.
And Pete apparently thought it was cute, so he told everyone he knew and asked them not to tell William Beckett. True love had to find its own way.
For whatever reason, everyone listened to Pete for once.
Gabe had mostly forgotten about that drunken night out with Mikey Way, until a fan joked that William Beckett must have sold his soul to the Devil for the set of pipes he received.
"What?" he said, looking up from the ticket he was signing. "Man, William Beckett's soul belongs to me."
The girls around them sighed and the boys snorted, jealous.
But Gabe was not joking. As far as he was concerned, William Beckett's soul belonged to him.
Way back when, way back in the day, when The Academy Is were on Warped, with Gym Class, without Gabe, Gabe called William and he called him a lot. One day between states, he called up and sang, "seven days a week, every minute of the day!"
Then he proposed they commit their souls in a union of love at the alter of the Cobra. Eternity and everything, wherever it was, the place where souls went. It would be fucking awesome, the both of them together.
"What are you on?" asked William suspiciously. He nodded at Sisky to continue the movie without him and left the back lounge of the bus. "You've been watching Runaway Bride, haven't you?"
"Whoa," said Gabe. "Fuck you too. I was watching that Cher movie-"
"Mermaids?"
"Give me some fucking credit. The one where she's Italian. And anyway, fuck you if you don't believe in true love. I believe. Come on Billy, let's do it, let us commune." He hummed, loud in William's ear. "I don't wanna change you, I just wanna see you- "
William climbed into his bunk and sat back. "I have a crush on Maja Ivarsson," he admitted, cutting Gabe off mid-verse. Gabe shouted in dismay. "I was trying to charm you, you fuck, not give you big ideas!"
William said, "wait, what?"
Gabe paused. "I miss you."
"I do too," said William. He knocked his knee against the wall of his bunk. "Yeah, I do too."
Backstage at Decaydance Paris was loud, joyous, but Gabe happened to be passing a dressing room alone when he heard Butcher say, laughing, "Chislett, you still have William's soul?"
"He hasn't asked for it back yet,"said Chiz, who sounded like he was also smiling. "I think he forgot about it."
Gabe's hands curled into fists, almost a reflex, and he remembered the last text message Mikey Way had sent him. smacked a bitch for bill beckett yet?
Gabe called him back immediately. "What bitch is making moves on my William?"
"Just you and half the up-and-coming generation of the emo scene," Mikey had replied. "But Frank's got a betting pool going. He's been following Honda Civic rumors."
"William remains unmolested," said Gabe. "Frank doesn't have to worry. Unless he wants to get with William. Then I will have to smack him."
"No, no," said Mikey. "His money is on you hooking up with William after punching Pete in the face."
"I would never," said Gabe, uncomfortable for the first time. "I am a good man. Pete's face couldn't be saved with my help anyway."
Mikey laughed out loud at that and hung up with a promise to call again soon.
William, for the record, had not forgotten and that was why he brought Chiz a cup of coffee in the morning while they were in London. Chiz smiled at him sleepily, a quiet salute from his bed. William wanted nothing more than to have his soul back. He pulled on a sweater and left their hotel room, shivering. He was always cold now, now that his body was no longer housing his soul. It was a weird empty feeling, oppressive and weightless in his limbs. He was tired.
"Really," said Chiz, again. "It's not like it's serious or anything."
"Maybe you can make sure William gets into heaven," laughed Mike. "Dude, seriously. You could always like, blackmail him or something. Whatever."
Chiz laughed with the others, but he sounded nervous. Gabe leaned forward, muscles tensed, but Chiz said, "nah. I don't need anything from him. I have his soul."
Gabe stalked off to find William, meeting Brendon Urie on the way. He stole the beer right out of the kid's hand and kept moving until he found William in Fall Out Boy's dressing room.
"Billvy," he said, collapsing on the couch next to William. "Billvy, this world is too much for you."
"Fuck off," said William without looking up from his phone. "It is not."
Gabe swung an arm around him. "I like you, man," said Gabe. "And I am for-fucking-serious, by the way."
William looked up. There was light in his eyes as he said, "for-fucking-serious?"
Gabe squeezed his shoulder, pulling him closer. "Yes. My seriousness cannot be quantified. "
William elbowed him and took his beer.
The flight across the Atlantic was cold and William was plagued with bad dreams. The fourth time he found himself awake and shivering, he gave up and looked around. His various bandmates and labelmates were spread out around the cabin, but only one other person had not yet fallen asleep.
He zipped up his hoodie to his chin, and, crossing his arms over his chest, threaded between the seats and slid into the seat next to Gabe. Gabe was writing furiously in his journal, sentences slanted and curling around the page. William pushed up the armrest and put his head on Gabe's shoulder. "What are you doing?" he whispered.
Gabe looked over at him, blank and expressionless with fatigue. "Cataloguing," he mumbled.
"What?"
"Friends versus kisses." He didn't slow down writing to talk, just kept on scribbling names and dates and scenes that may or may not have happened.
Gabe was only ever an insomniac when he traveled. William always thought Gabe took it as a personal challenge, staying up for so many hours in such a confined space. He was good at it too, one of the best William knew at running on nothing but a desire to keep going.
Gabe's hand stilled on the page. "How many times have we made out?"
William pushed his face into Gabe's shoulder, trying not to shiver so much. "Twice, I think."
"Is that all?" Gabe said, drawing the number and going over the lines again.
"Once for the cameras, once when we were drunk." William didn't remember the latter, which troubled him. Sisky had to inform him of his activities at that party after the night was through.
"When we were drunk?"
"At Travie's house. Or Pete's? Someone's house. Sisky told me, I don't remember."
Gabe doodled a cobra with the shape of a man in its stomach. "Hearsay doesn't count." He looked down at the open page. "What the fuck am I talking about?" he said, lip curling. "Half of this shit is hearsay."
William recognised the mood and said, quickly, a distraction, "You don't remember?"
Gabe didn't answer but scrawled one long line in his journal one for cameras, one for fun, drunk at pete/travie's house, room crashing like light, blv doesn't remember how awesome it was. neither do I.
William got up and grabbed a blanket from an overhead compartment and sat back down. He pulled the blanket up to his chin.
"Cold?" Gabe seemed to grow more exhausted every time William looked at him. "You want my jacket?"
"You're sure?" William was cold, shivering, almost shaking. He blamed Chiz and thought of his soul, tucked up warm in Chizzy's pocket.
Gabe took off his jacket and handed it to William. William pulled it on and settled against Gabe again. Gabe was doodling, drawing circles and squares in his journal. William took the hint and closed his eyes.
He fell asleep against Gabe's shoulder.
Gabe had an hour off in the studio on Sunday and he spent it watching Extreme Home Makeover with Victoria. He tried very hard not to cry and succeeded only by grinding his teeth together and squinting.
"Gabe," said Vicky T. "Gabe, you need to get laid."
Gabe unhinged his jaw long enough to snap irrationally, "I don't want to."
Vicky T laughed at him and got up off the couch. "I'm gonna get some coffee, you want any?"
Gabe shook his head. On screen, a weeping mother clutched her eldest son in a fit of joy. Gabe threw his head over the back on the couch and coughed.
"You should call William," said Vicky T. "That might make you feel better."
Gabe rumbled in her direction, jaw tight.
"Whatever," said Vicky T. "I'm getting you coffee, I don't care what you say."
"We fucked up," said Gabe. William was taken back; he hadn't expected those to be the first words he'd hear Gabe speak in over a month. He didn't care though, he was still glad to hear from him. "The hell?" said William. "The demos I heard sounded great." He frowned. The demos were great, and Patrick was a good producer.
"No," and William could just see him shaking his head and the image made him want to smile, "no, we fucked up the timing. We're done, dude. We need to go on tour and sell this motherfucker."
"Oh," said William. He tapped his fingers on the side of the stage. "Hey, come on tour with us."
"No way," said Gabe. "We couldn't."
"Yeah, no," said William. "Do it." Mike peered down at him and William grimaced up. Mike mouthed something intelligible and William murmured "Gabe." He waved Mike off and walked away from the stage into the theatre. "Gabe, it'll be great. Our fans love you. It'll be fun. Talk to Bob, see what he says."
"You're not tired of us?"
William snorted. Not quite a laugh, but something close and something nice. He was having a hard time laughing after he'd lost his soul. "Never."
"It would be nice to see Sisky Business again," said Gabe. "Alright. I'll talk to McLynn."
He was silent. William rolled his eyes. "What else? You haven't called in a month."
"Victoria says I need to get laid."
"That's usually true."
Gabe gasped. "You're supposed to be on my side," he said. "Has your heart gone cold in my absence? Alright, we'll do it. We'll tour. It's one thing to be playing at the bottom of the bill again, but to have my dearest friend turn against me in my hour of need. . ."
"Don't," warned William, putting a hand over his eyes. "Don't do it."
"Bottom of the bill," Gabe said. "I'm a genius."
"Gabe," whined William, failing to stop the amusement in his voice. "Gabe, you're better than this."
"I can't help it, man. And it works, because if we ever had sex, I would definitely be on top- "
William hung up and walked back to the stage. Mike nodded him. "How's our favorite snake charmer?"
"The album's done," said William, pulling himself on stage. "And they might join us on tour." He grinned, feeling it all the way into his empty bones.
Butcher cheered from the back of the stage, throwing a drumroll in celebration. Mike raised an eyebrow, but he didn't comment, just smiled back.
Gabe took to touring with The Academy Is like coming home. He spent his first hour before the show dancing with Butcher and ruffling Sisky's hair. He spent the second hour prank calling Mike. He cornered Chiz in the bathroom at the beginning of the third.
"I just want to wash my hands," said Chiz, looking at the sinks behind Gabe. "Is that cool?"
Gabe threw out his arms to block the sinks, and frowned. "Chislett, I will fight you."
"What is it?" said Chiz. He looked a little desperate. "I have to soundcheck soon."
"William's soul belongs to me," said Gabe. "Everyone knows that. I will fight you."
Chislett's eyes lit up. "Oh, I forgot I had it." He patted his pocket. "Don't worry, I take good care of it."
"I have a reputation to uphold," said Gabe. "I want that paper. Or I have to smack you."
"Oh, don't," said Chiz. "You don't need to worry."
"I do," said Gabe. "I really, really do. What if something happens to William?"
Chiz smiled at him suddenly. "William will be fine," he said, ducking under Gabe's arm to get to a sink. "William has you, he'll be alright."
William found his band in various states of dishevelment in the front lounge of their bus that evening. He put his hands on his hips. "What happened?" Then he caught himself and frowned, annoyed and jealous. "Gabe happened."
"Oh, Gabe," sighed Butcher. He raised his water bottle in toast. "What a great guy."
"The best," said Sisky, who was still trying to flatten his hair.
"Motherfucker," agreed Mike. "Chiz?"
"He's a good man," agreed Chiz, nodding. "Cornered me in the bathroom and challenged me to a fight."
"Cool," said Mike.
"So not cool," said William. "I didn't see him all evening."
"It's okay," said Chiz. "You don't need to worry."
William frowned at him.
The tour pulled out of the venue and Gabe was already safe on his bus but William called him, five minutes onto the road, with nothing but venom.
"You bastard," said William, sounding put out. "I graciously welcome you and your band of misfits onto my tour and you don't even take the time to thank me in person? You ingrate. I should send you to bed without supper."
Despite the venom in William's words, there was a certain warmth in his tone that Gabe had missed. He giggled, delighted.
"It's too late," he said, mouth full of candy. "Tooooo late."
"What are you eating?" William demanded. "Spit it out right now and go to bed."
"I been a bad boy," said Gabe, chewing as loudly as he could. "You should punish me."
William choked.
"Bad boy," continued Gabe, splitting open a fruit snack and offering it to Ryland. Ryland shook his head, eyebrows raised in distaste. Gabe shrugged and put the entire thing in his mouth. He started singing. "A bad, bad, bad, bad man."
"You're disgusting," said Nate. Gabe slapped his ass as he passed and Nate yelped, jumping up. Ryland burst out in laughter.
"I just wanted to say," said William, "that I demand you spend time with me when we get to our next destination. Perhaps then I will be able to find it in my heart to forgive you for this injustice."
He paused, for dramatic effect, Gabe thought. "I've been crying all night, truly."
Gabe couldn't help himself. "I love you," he said. It came out watery, juicy from the candy.
"What?" asked William. "Sorry, you're breaking up, say that again?"
"Good night, sleep tight" said Gabe. He hung up and tore into another wrapper.
"Seriously, so foul," said Nate. Gabe made grabby hands at Nate and Nate backed away.
"You're so happy to be here," said Ryland, snorting, but he looked fond.
After his fourth drink, William decided never to tour with three opening bands again. It was too easy to get backed into a dressing room and start shotgunning beers with friends. He'd had a mission for the evening and everything; find Gabe and punch him, then hug him. He hadn't seen the man since his band left the stage and it was starting to grate, how Gabe disappeared into the tour so fluidly.
A guitar tech tossed him another beer. William caught Chislett's eye and they downed their drinks at the same time. Chiz stumbled over. "William," he said. "We haven't done this in a while."
William shook his head. "You took my soul last time."
"No," said Chiz. He didn't look apologetic in the slightest. "I won it."
"Why?"
"I'm sorry," said Chiz. Butcher drifted past and handed them shotglasses. "I don't remember."
William drank to that.
"You know," said Chiz, after Butcher refilled their glasses. "You've stopped laughing, but now that the Cobras are back, you look a lot more happy, at least." He raised his glass. "Cheers?"
William nodded. "Cheers."
They drank, arms hooked through each other. Butcher was waiting at their side with a bottle of vodka.
"Gabe." William's voice was urgent and rough in his ear. "Gabe, wake up."
Gabe jerked and rolled over, coming face to chest with William. He looked up, squinting, eyes slow. "Billy, what- how did you get in here?"
"Alex let me in," William whispered. He put his elbows on the side of the bunk and leaned in. "Gabe, I need help."
"What's wrong?"
William breathed deep. "It's cold," he mumbled. "Chizzy stole my soul."
Gabe thought about that and how now he really did have to smack Chiz. He reached out to play with the strings on the hood of William's sweatshirt. "He couldn't," he said. "That's impossible."
"No," William shook his head, looking frantic. He was drunk, of course, but also tired and worn. "He won it in a bet. And now I'm cold and I can't laugh and Gabe," his voice dropped to a low whisper. "I can tell it's gone. I'm cold."
"No, Billvy," Gabe touched his sleeve, held the fabric between his thumb and pointer. "You're cold because it's like two o'clock in the morning and you just walked across a gas station in middle of fuck America and it's late October and you didn't wear enough layers."
He mostly just didn't want to believe that William's soul could leave his body, leave William so empty.
"No," William shook his head again, a violent motion, "no, Gabe, fuck, it was gone all the way back when we were in Europe."
"William, it's not-"
"Fucking shut up," said William. He grabbed Gabe's wrist and Gabe squirmed. William's hands were cold. "I lost a bet and he took my soul and I don't have anything inside of me and Gabe, you remember when I fell over while we were all doing our laundry? It's because he put my soul in the washing machine. I could feel it Gabe, I could-"
He was rubbing circles on Gabe's wrist in a distracted, rundown manner. Gabe sat up and interrupted his rambling. "Come here. Take your shoes off."
William kicked off his shoes and climbed up into bed with Gabe. Gabe shivered as William lay down next him. "Shit, Billy," he whispered. "You're freezing."
"I know," said William.
Gabe pulled his blanket over them and settled against William with his arms around him. "Chilly Billy," he mumbled.
"I have no soul," said William. "What happens if I die?"
"Shut up," said Gabe. He shifted, rubbed a thumb across William's hip. "Go to sleep."
William woke in the morning, only just remembering where he was. Gabe was asleep next to him, his hand warm on William's waist. William put a hand over Gabe's. He had a massive headache and the world past Gabe was blurry. He'd left his glasses on the other bus. Not that it mattered; it hurt to concentrate on anything too far away. He was exhausted.
His hands were still cold, but Gabe was warm. Gabe was warm and alive. William put a hand underneath Gabe's t-shirt, tracing up Gabe's ribcage.
Gabe woke up, hissing, eyes half-shut, "cold hands, Billy."
William didn't move, or apologise. He bit his lip and Gabe looked down at William's hand.
"Your eyes are bloodshot," Gabe whispered. "How drunk were you last night?"
William smiled as he smoothed down Gabe's chest. "Pretty drunk," he whispered, wincing. "Like Mexico with Gym Class. Or fucking, ugh." He put his other hand on Gabe's hip. "Like London."
"London after the festival?"
"Like Ryan and Pete without their girlfriends after the festival."
"Like Sisky after his girlfriend leaves?"
William shook his head. "Don't be mean to Sisky." His voice dropped and he grinned again. "But not that drunk."
"William," whispered Gabe. "Are you sure you don't have a soul?"
William ducked down, forehead to forehead with Gabe. "I'm cold, I don't laugh, I go flat during the chorus of Snakes-"
"You always go flat during the chorus." Gabe laughed, breath against William's.
William knocked his knees against Gabe, sliding one leg through Gabe's. "Fuck off."
He drew his fingers across Gabe's ribcage, up and down, tracing around one of Gabe's nipples. Gabe made a choked nose and whispered again, "cold hands, Billy," even as he leaned down and dropped his mouth against William's.
William closed his eyes and pulled Gabe closer, feeling, for the first time in months, warm.
Chislett placed an envelope marked Property of Gabe Saporta on the table and stepped off the bus, nodding at Ryland, who yawned in return. He had to get back to his bus; they'd be leaving the truck stop soon.