So Kiss Me Goodbye - Chapter 2
Title: So Kiss Me Goodbye
Chapter: 2/?
Rating: PG
Pairing: Gabilliam, onesided!Brendon/Gabe
Summary: Gabe and William lived in a world where men weren't supposed to fall in love with each other, and where sorcery was banned. Gabe's talent with potions and his love for the noble born William Beckett leads to their demise. But with the help of dark magic and reincarnation, Gabe still hopes to find his love once more and get the happily ever after he believes he deserves.
Disclaimer: This is fictional.
Author Note: This chapter involves a major jump into the future.
The chimes hanging above the door rang pleasantly, stirring Gabe from his sleep with an unhappy groan. What to others would have been a sweet and simple noise annoyed the man endlessly, but he valiantly ignored it and only endeavored to open his eyes and truly wake when the sound of footsteps drew near.
“Good morning,” a voice chirped, just as sweet and simple as the chimes that had been hung from the ceiling ages ago to warn of a new customer, and Gabe looked up at the source blearily. It was Brendon, but even his tired mind was already aware of that fact. Few others had the keys to the shop and would dare to come in at such an early hour. It was only because Gabe signed his paycheck, Gabe figured, but then again money or not there seemed no way known to mortals to get rid of Brendon Urie. There were a handful who could attest to that fact.
Gabe felt disgusting as he lifted his head from off the desk he had fallen asleep at. His hair remained uncombed as it had been for weeks and it was a losing struggle to keep his heavy lids open. Streams of light poured in from the slits of the blinds that shielded him from the one lone window in the backroom, causing a throbbing pain to pulse beneath his temple. Dreadfully awake, he wished to block out the sunlight more effectively, but the small voice of reason he’d managed to retain through the years told him the being still standing mere feet away would not appreciate the life of a vampire. That fact was confirmed as Brendon walked over to the window and yanked the blinds open.
A hand flew to cover Gabe’s eyes and he turned away from the light, the quick movement only succeeding in aggravating his less than well condition. “It was a long night,” Gabe grumbled, finally bothering to get to his feet. Papers scattered at his action, a book tumbled to the ground from where he had forgotten he placed it on his lap.
"It's always a long night for you," Brendon answered, sounding wise beyond his young years. He couldn't be older than twenty judging by the quick math in Gabe's head. Gabe had hired him over two years prior by little more than whim and the intention to save himself further aggravation. Brendon's first trip into the shop had been as a customer, but when Gabe had caught the young man sitting in the back of the shop crying it fast became an interaction beyond most simpletons who came in seeking an herbal fix to a slight medical issue. After Gabe had comforted the young man with his romantic grievances, Brendon started coming to the shop almost every day after his classes. Despite Gabe's attempts to deter the child, he remained a fixed facet in the store. Gabe hadn't missed the sidelong looks that Brendon gave him; it twisted his stomach in an unfortunate way. He hadn't meant to get caught up in another's life, but he found he was getting worse at that as decades passed by indiscriminately. After Brendon graduated, he started mentioning off hand how badly he needed a job. It took Gabe five weeks to cave, but in the end he couldn't bring himself to say no to the boy who had been acting as a clerk to the rare handful of customers that came by since long before Gabe decided to pay him for it.
Brendon set a cup of coffee from Starbucks down on the desk, "I got you coffee." It was black, just the way Gabe liked. He had never been able to get used to the cream and sugar that most chose to take along with their caffeine, he felt it only detracted from the bitter heat that was employed each morning to wake him up and clear his muddled senses. As Gabe's fingers encircled the brown cup holder, Brendon set about to clearing in a physical sense. He grabbed a trash can from beside the door and held it at his side while he swept in empty liquor bottles. It had been a rough night indeed, and Brendon was aware before he even stepped into the shop that there was a high likelihood that Gabe was suffering from a nasty hangover. It wasn't every day; that much Gabe could claim as fact. Only the bad nights, the nights where the forced insomnia and memories crept up into his mind uninvited. Sleep was a human imperative, and Gabe knew he was taking a toll on himself the longer he stayed up. His conscious thoughts blurred together incomprehensibly, but it was worth it to avoid what could happen if he let the sweet notion of slumber draw him in. Flashes of pale skin and long brown locks, the kind that Gabe wanted so badly to curl around his fingers; but it was always out of reach. God was a cruel entity, forever teasing him with something he no longer possessed. It went against God's rules to do what he felt he had to do all those years ago, maybe the way he felt was the logical punishment. Drinking made it all go by easier, and for that Gabe felt like a needless cliché. He made himself sick, but there was nothing he cared to do about it.
Bottle after bottle clanked against each other as Brendon kicked the garbage can back into place, and returned to his spot behind the cash register at the front of the store. He knew better than to continue to pester the older man, especially considering the number of bottles that he'd had to clean up that morning. Sometimes Brendon wondered why. He didn't ask. Contrary to what everyone else thought, Brendon did possess some vague sense of personal space and privacy, and he knew that it was much too personal a question to pose to his boss. In his experience, people like that would die to keep things secret. He had too much experience.
It was over an hour before Gabe staggered out of the back room, looking only slightly more composed than he had when Brendon first waked up. It didn't perturb the young clerk, and he smiled happily up at his employer, "We're out of the soothing syrup, and someone came in asking whether or not we do special orders. I told him you were out, so he said he'd come back another time." There had been steady trickle of customers all morning --mostly people with their curiosities peaked-- but Brendon knew how to take care of things without Gabe overseeing his work. Gabe had always been impressed with his employee, and often thought of the kid as a life saver. Although Gabe had been running a similar type of business for years he no longer had the mind for the bare essential details. Weeks blurred in his mind while Brendon maintained the books, and made sure everything balanced. He might've originally hired Brendon out of little more than pity, but it was clear to see the boy's work ethic and loyalty was the reason for the store's ongoing success.
"I'll work on another batch tonight," Gabe murmured in response, looking over to the shelves rather than at Brendon's smile. He tried never to encourage much beyond the relationship between co workers, but he often failed in that endeavor. It was hard to say no when confronted with such the idealistic smile that Brendon possessed.
Gabe was about to shuffle his way towards the back to start tallying the ingredients he'd need when the bell over the door chimed in again, forever an interruption in the man's attempt to leave a permanently bleak existence. He didn't turn; it was a customer, he thought, Brendon could be left to deal with that.
"Gabe Saporta, my man, you look like shit."
A sputter of indignation came from his right, and Brendon looked horrified that someone would actually dare come into Gabe's store and say that to Gabe, because really, how rude is that?
"It's okay, Urie," Gabe laughed, shaking his head and staring down his new 'customer', "He's cool."
Brendon looked unconvinced, but stayed tucked behind his register, watching as Gabe crossed the expanse of the store in a few steps, taking the stranger into his arms for a tight hug.
"You better believe I'm cool," the man, a taller man with a barely tamed afro and tattoos heavily decorating his skin, "I taught you the meaning of cool, Saporta, I saved you from becoming an emo freak, you should be on your knees in thanks."
"And I stopped you from becoming a sell out," Gabe responded in turn, grinning brighter than Brendon had seen him in a long while, "Consider us even."
"Me, a sell out? Never."
"Don't be so sure."
"I am nothing if not certain," the man said, light hearted, before glancing over to Brendon, "Now where are your manners Saporta, aren't you gonna introduce me?"
"I was getting to that," Gabe pulled away from the other, his arm moving from around the man's shoulder, "Brendon, meet Travis McCoy. Travie, meet Brendon. He works the cash register."
"At least someone is working around here," Travis beamed, reaching out to shake Brendon's hand, pulling Brendon in for a hug when the younger boy finally gave in to the friendly gesture.
As a rule, Gabe tried to stay away from the trappings of a permanent lifestyle. He knew he wasn't meant for that, not anymore. He had outgrown the foolish hope that he could retain the sense of normalcy that everyone else held so dear. He had lost his right to that when he did the non demonic alternative to selling his soul. The thought of putting it in such crude terms had made him cringe at first, but he'd learned there was no other wording, no other alternative to describe the means with which he intended to find his ending. He'd cast aside the one thing that tied humanity together, the concept of mortality. It was possible, yes, and Gabe had figured out how. He had always been brilliant beyond his years, even all the way back then, but even he wouldn't have believed such powers to be within his grasp. Not until he was provided with the proper motivation.
It was a crime against nature, and he was living out the punishment. He knew that most would kill for what Gabe knew; the secret behind why his skin was still as flawless as it was so many years ago, to drink from the fountain of youth. Immortality had never been Gabe's aim though, and the longer he lived the more he was convinced that he didn't want to live forever. No one should want that. Gabe had been alone after that night, so alone, but he wanted, he needed someone there for him. He'd reached out and made connections only to see them die before his eyes. It was pain beyond anything any mortal could know, and so Gabe knew he would never share his secrets. He moved from place to place every ten years, before people could question why it was that the rose in his cheeks hadn't changed since the day they met. Still, even when Gabe tried to lay low, some people managed to seek him out. Friendships choked him and held him back, but it would hurt to leave them even though Gabe was aware that one day he would have to.
"This is still my shop," Gabe responded, though he knew Travis was only joking. He had met Travis years ago, before Brendon. Travis had come into the shop looking for a cure for his aching and swollen throat. He ended up inviting Gabe to his show the next night under the condition that Gabe's miracle draught worked. Gabe wasn't sure what made him go, but he'd been feeling lonely and the concert flyer was right there. Travis made a point of tracking Gabe down after the show, and since then they'd been friends. It was easy.
"Course it is," Travis laughed, soft and low, and Gabe understood why people were naturally drawn towards the man, "And I'm sure you're busy, but I'm going to a party tomorrow night and you should be there. You know the guy, Wentz, yeah?"
"Pretty sure my schedule is filled up," Gabe answered, ignoring the sudden hopeful look on Brendon's face. He knew that Brendon probably didn't get out much with the hours he put in at the store. Gabe wasn't sure why, but Brendon's social life seemed pretty nonexistent.
"Throw in the towel for one night," Travis replied, shifting to lean against the counter, "You've got to come, you've got to meet my boy."
"Your boy?" Gabe raised both of his brows, "This the one you've been telling me about?" Over shared joints, sinking into a ripped up couch, he had let Travis share his life. It had been cathartic, hearing about the kind of life he no longer led. Travis was a nice kid --everyone was a kid in comparison to Gabe-- he probably deserved better. Travis had told him in detail about a boy he knew from high school, a freshman when Travis had been a senior. "I still can't see it. You with a boy?"
"Oh shut it Saporta, don't be pissy just 'cause you haven't been getting laid," Travis shot back, though his tone was anything but angry, "Besides, wait until you see him, he's practically a girl."
"Fine, you've got me convinced," Gabe gave in, "You can count me in."
"I knew I'd make you cave," Travis said, so sure of himself. He grabbed a notepad off the counter, and dug through his pocket to get a pen to write down the address, "Tomorrow night. 10. At Wentz's place. And I expect you to give Brendon here the night off so he can come too." Travis winked at Brendon, whose smile had widened.
"I insist you stop trying to charm my employee," Gabe shook his head.
"I can't help that," Travis replied, hand on the front door, "I'm naturally charming. And I better see you there tomorrow night. Don't make me come down here and drag your ass away from your work."
"Can I go?" Brendon spoke up after Travis had disappeared again.
"I don't think either of us has a choice."
Chapter: 2/?
Rating: PG
Pairing: Gabilliam, onesided!Brendon/Gabe
Summary: Gabe and William lived in a world where men weren't supposed to fall in love with each other, and where sorcery was banned. Gabe's talent with potions and his love for the noble born William Beckett leads to their demise. But with the help of dark magic and reincarnation, Gabe still hopes to find his love once more and get the happily ever after he believes he deserves.
Disclaimer: This is fictional.
Author Note: This chapter involves a major jump into the future.
The chimes hanging above the door rang pleasantly, stirring Gabe from his sleep with an unhappy groan. What to others would have been a sweet and simple noise annoyed the man endlessly, but he valiantly ignored it and only endeavored to open his eyes and truly wake when the sound of footsteps drew near.
“Good morning,” a voice chirped, just as sweet and simple as the chimes that had been hung from the ceiling ages ago to warn of a new customer, and Gabe looked up at the source blearily. It was Brendon, but even his tired mind was already aware of that fact. Few others had the keys to the shop and would dare to come in at such an early hour. It was only because Gabe signed his paycheck, Gabe figured, but then again money or not there seemed no way known to mortals to get rid of Brendon Urie. There were a handful who could attest to that fact.
Gabe felt disgusting as he lifted his head from off the desk he had fallen asleep at. His hair remained uncombed as it had been for weeks and it was a losing struggle to keep his heavy lids open. Streams of light poured in from the slits of the blinds that shielded him from the one lone window in the backroom, causing a throbbing pain to pulse beneath his temple. Dreadfully awake, he wished to block out the sunlight more effectively, but the small voice of reason he’d managed to retain through the years told him the being still standing mere feet away would not appreciate the life of a vampire. That fact was confirmed as Brendon walked over to the window and yanked the blinds open.
A hand flew to cover Gabe’s eyes and he turned away from the light, the quick movement only succeeding in aggravating his less than well condition. “It was a long night,” Gabe grumbled, finally bothering to get to his feet. Papers scattered at his action, a book tumbled to the ground from where he had forgotten he placed it on his lap.
"It's always a long night for you," Brendon answered, sounding wise beyond his young years. He couldn't be older than twenty judging by the quick math in Gabe's head. Gabe had hired him over two years prior by little more than whim and the intention to save himself further aggravation. Brendon's first trip into the shop had been as a customer, but when Gabe had caught the young man sitting in the back of the shop crying it fast became an interaction beyond most simpletons who came in seeking an herbal fix to a slight medical issue. After Gabe had comforted the young man with his romantic grievances, Brendon started coming to the shop almost every day after his classes. Despite Gabe's attempts to deter the child, he remained a fixed facet in the store. Gabe hadn't missed the sidelong looks that Brendon gave him; it twisted his stomach in an unfortunate way. He hadn't meant to get caught up in another's life, but he found he was getting worse at that as decades passed by indiscriminately. After Brendon graduated, he started mentioning off hand how badly he needed a job. It took Gabe five weeks to cave, but in the end he couldn't bring himself to say no to the boy who had been acting as a clerk to the rare handful of customers that came by since long before Gabe decided to pay him for it.
Brendon set a cup of coffee from Starbucks down on the desk, "I got you coffee." It was black, just the way Gabe liked. He had never been able to get used to the cream and sugar that most chose to take along with their caffeine, he felt it only detracted from the bitter heat that was employed each morning to wake him up and clear his muddled senses. As Gabe's fingers encircled the brown cup holder, Brendon set about to clearing in a physical sense. He grabbed a trash can from beside the door and held it at his side while he swept in empty liquor bottles. It had been a rough night indeed, and Brendon was aware before he even stepped into the shop that there was a high likelihood that Gabe was suffering from a nasty hangover. It wasn't every day; that much Gabe could claim as fact. Only the bad nights, the nights where the forced insomnia and memories crept up into his mind uninvited. Sleep was a human imperative, and Gabe knew he was taking a toll on himself the longer he stayed up. His conscious thoughts blurred together incomprehensibly, but it was worth it to avoid what could happen if he let the sweet notion of slumber draw him in. Flashes of pale skin and long brown locks, the kind that Gabe wanted so badly to curl around his fingers; but it was always out of reach. God was a cruel entity, forever teasing him with something he no longer possessed. It went against God's rules to do what he felt he had to do all those years ago, maybe the way he felt was the logical punishment. Drinking made it all go by easier, and for that Gabe felt like a needless cliché. He made himself sick, but there was nothing he cared to do about it.
Bottle after bottle clanked against each other as Brendon kicked the garbage can back into place, and returned to his spot behind the cash register at the front of the store. He knew better than to continue to pester the older man, especially considering the number of bottles that he'd had to clean up that morning. Sometimes Brendon wondered why. He didn't ask. Contrary to what everyone else thought, Brendon did possess some vague sense of personal space and privacy, and he knew that it was much too personal a question to pose to his boss. In his experience, people like that would die to keep things secret. He had too much experience.
It was over an hour before Gabe staggered out of the back room, looking only slightly more composed than he had when Brendon first waked up. It didn't perturb the young clerk, and he smiled happily up at his employer, "We're out of the soothing syrup, and someone came in asking whether or not we do special orders. I told him you were out, so he said he'd come back another time." There had been steady trickle of customers all morning --mostly people with their curiosities peaked-- but Brendon knew how to take care of things without Gabe overseeing his work. Gabe had always been impressed with his employee, and often thought of the kid as a life saver. Although Gabe had been running a similar type of business for years he no longer had the mind for the bare essential details. Weeks blurred in his mind while Brendon maintained the books, and made sure everything balanced. He might've originally hired Brendon out of little more than pity, but it was clear to see the boy's work ethic and loyalty was the reason for the store's ongoing success.
"I'll work on another batch tonight," Gabe murmured in response, looking over to the shelves rather than at Brendon's smile. He tried never to encourage much beyond the relationship between co workers, but he often failed in that endeavor. It was hard to say no when confronted with such the idealistic smile that Brendon possessed.
Gabe was about to shuffle his way towards the back to start tallying the ingredients he'd need when the bell over the door chimed in again, forever an interruption in the man's attempt to leave a permanently bleak existence. He didn't turn; it was a customer, he thought, Brendon could be left to deal with that.
"Gabe Saporta, my man, you look like shit."
A sputter of indignation came from his right, and Brendon looked horrified that someone would actually dare come into Gabe's store and say that to Gabe, because really, how rude is that?
"It's okay, Urie," Gabe laughed, shaking his head and staring down his new 'customer', "He's cool."
Brendon looked unconvinced, but stayed tucked behind his register, watching as Gabe crossed the expanse of the store in a few steps, taking the stranger into his arms for a tight hug.
"You better believe I'm cool," the man, a taller man with a barely tamed afro and tattoos heavily decorating his skin, "I taught you the meaning of cool, Saporta, I saved you from becoming an emo freak, you should be on your knees in thanks."
"And I stopped you from becoming a sell out," Gabe responded in turn, grinning brighter than Brendon had seen him in a long while, "Consider us even."
"Me, a sell out? Never."
"Don't be so sure."
"I am nothing if not certain," the man said, light hearted, before glancing over to Brendon, "Now where are your manners Saporta, aren't you gonna introduce me?"
"I was getting to that," Gabe pulled away from the other, his arm moving from around the man's shoulder, "Brendon, meet Travis McCoy. Travie, meet Brendon. He works the cash register."
"At least someone is working around here," Travis beamed, reaching out to shake Brendon's hand, pulling Brendon in for a hug when the younger boy finally gave in to the friendly gesture.
As a rule, Gabe tried to stay away from the trappings of a permanent lifestyle. He knew he wasn't meant for that, not anymore. He had outgrown the foolish hope that he could retain the sense of normalcy that everyone else held so dear. He had lost his right to that when he did the non demonic alternative to selling his soul. The thought of putting it in such crude terms had made him cringe at first, but he'd learned there was no other wording, no other alternative to describe the means with which he intended to find his ending. He'd cast aside the one thing that tied humanity together, the concept of mortality. It was possible, yes, and Gabe had figured out how. He had always been brilliant beyond his years, even all the way back then, but even he wouldn't have believed such powers to be within his grasp. Not until he was provided with the proper motivation.
It was a crime against nature, and he was living out the punishment. He knew that most would kill for what Gabe knew; the secret behind why his skin was still as flawless as it was so many years ago, to drink from the fountain of youth. Immortality had never been Gabe's aim though, and the longer he lived the more he was convinced that he didn't want to live forever. No one should want that. Gabe had been alone after that night, so alone, but he wanted, he needed someone there for him. He'd reached out and made connections only to see them die before his eyes. It was pain beyond anything any mortal could know, and so Gabe knew he would never share his secrets. He moved from place to place every ten years, before people could question why it was that the rose in his cheeks hadn't changed since the day they met. Still, even when Gabe tried to lay low, some people managed to seek him out. Friendships choked him and held him back, but it would hurt to leave them even though Gabe was aware that one day he would have to.
"This is still my shop," Gabe responded, though he knew Travis was only joking. He had met Travis years ago, before Brendon. Travis had come into the shop looking for a cure for his aching and swollen throat. He ended up inviting Gabe to his show the next night under the condition that Gabe's miracle draught worked. Gabe wasn't sure what made him go, but he'd been feeling lonely and the concert flyer was right there. Travis made a point of tracking Gabe down after the show, and since then they'd been friends. It was easy.
"Course it is," Travis laughed, soft and low, and Gabe understood why people were naturally drawn towards the man, "And I'm sure you're busy, but I'm going to a party tomorrow night and you should be there. You know the guy, Wentz, yeah?"
"Pretty sure my schedule is filled up," Gabe answered, ignoring the sudden hopeful look on Brendon's face. He knew that Brendon probably didn't get out much with the hours he put in at the store. Gabe wasn't sure why, but Brendon's social life seemed pretty nonexistent.
"Throw in the towel for one night," Travis replied, shifting to lean against the counter, "You've got to come, you've got to meet my boy."
"Your boy?" Gabe raised both of his brows, "This the one you've been telling me about?" Over shared joints, sinking into a ripped up couch, he had let Travis share his life. It had been cathartic, hearing about the kind of life he no longer led. Travis was a nice kid --everyone was a kid in comparison to Gabe-- he probably deserved better. Travis had told him in detail about a boy he knew from high school, a freshman when Travis had been a senior. "I still can't see it. You with a boy?"
"Oh shut it Saporta, don't be pissy just 'cause you haven't been getting laid," Travis shot back, though his tone was anything but angry, "Besides, wait until you see him, he's practically a girl."
"Fine, you've got me convinced," Gabe gave in, "You can count me in."
"I knew I'd make you cave," Travis said, so sure of himself. He grabbed a notepad off the counter, and dug through his pocket to get a pen to write down the address, "Tomorrow night. 10. At Wentz's place. And I expect you to give Brendon here the night off so he can come too." Travis winked at Brendon, whose smile had widened.
"I insist you stop trying to charm my employee," Gabe shook his head.
"I can't help that," Travis replied, hand on the front door, "I'm naturally charming. And I better see you there tomorrow night. Don't make me come down here and drag your ass away from your work."
"Can I go?" Brendon spoke up after Travis had disappeared again.
"I don't think either of us has a choice."