Shoot Down the Stars - Standalone
Title: Shoot Down the Stars
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Treckett
Summary: Travis and Bill meet as angels in heaven. They fall in love, only to have it ripped away from them when Travis is reincarnated. Years later, they meet again as mortals, but William only finds heartbreak when he realizes Travis doesn't remember a thing.
Disclaimer: This is fictional.
Warning: Character death, brief sex scene
Author Note: Idea from a prompt off anon_lovefest. I must be on some reincarnation kick. Or maybe it's just the Treckett.
He didn't even see the car coming. That's how it usually was though, wasn't it? You're walking down the street minding your own business, it's just another day practically identical to the last and then suddenly your entire life has changed. Mainly because you're not living it anymore.
William's head hit the pavement, and he could feel it for all of a second before there was nothing. He stared up at the sky, he couldn't move anymore but he wasn't sure he would want to even if he could because it was nice. The sun was peeking behind fluffy clouds lighting up a pale blue background, and William hadn't noticed what a nice day it had been before. He noticed now though, and later was better than never. Even if it was too late. He listened to the sounds of sirens through pleasantly muffled ears, as if he was suspended underwater, separate from existence.
"Sir? Keep your eyes open, sir, help is on the way. You're going to be alright."
William wasn't sure who was speaking, everything was hazy and he could barely hear them over a gentle humming in his head, but he wanted to thank them. It was true, William was going to be alright. He could feel it.
Closing his eyes, he fell asleep.
------------------------------
Starting off with death would normally be anti climactic. Where can a person go from there? The tale of grieving families and friends is hardly ever exciting. But it wasn't a proper end, no. It must've been painful William figured the more he thought about it. He hadn't seen the scene afterwards, but he had heard it was a mess. It hadn't been his intention to go out with a crash, he was never that dramatic, but he guessed some things in life couldn't be helped.
Same went for in death.
The beginning for the protagonist William was not when his mother pushed him from her womb twenty one years earlier, but rather with three words.
"Hey, I'm Travis."
William could feel his heart beat again.
------------------------------
"Man, you alright?"
William stared, his blue skies replaced with stark white nothingness interrupted by the head and shoulders of another peering into his field of vision. He smiled at the person, a natural reaction. "Thanks."
The man laughed, "What're you thanking me for? I've done nothing yet."
Contemplating this for a second, William answered in the best way he could, "It's in advance."
"You're assuming I'm going to help you out?" the stranger queried, brows raising, but the open honest look on his face told William he wasn't wrong to assume. He'd always been a good judge in character. "That's extremely presumptuous. I think I like you."
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He wasn't sure what he expected, but the heaven he found wasn't it. William guessed that was the point of it all, that no mortal is supposed to be able to guess anyway, and that's what makes it worth it. He couldn't say he agreed with that logic exactly, but in the least he understood it. That's what Travis told him anyway.
"So you have to help me then?" William asked, hands clutching a manila folder, eyes peering up at the other from where he still sat in the bed he woke up in. "So I was right. Not presumptuous."
"Still presumptuous," Travis remarked, eying William with interest that William noted happily, "But right. It's my job. I help people get situated in a new life."
"You're in heaven and they put you to work?" William asked, curious and confused as to why anyone would chose to do that, or if they even had a choice. He wasn't sure he wanted to be a part of some afterlife that took away his constitutional rights.
"I like helping," Travis responded simply. He nodded towards the folder that was in William's hands, "That's your life written in there. The day before you're expected, the folder arrives on my desk. Helps me help you. I read it. What happened to you. I'm sorry."
William wondered how many times Travis had said that in the past. What else could a person be but sorry when talking to the newly deceased? That thought rolled idly in his head, deceased , it was a strange and almost unpleasant term to prescribe upon himself. "It's okay." William answered, "You weren't the one behind the wheel."
"You're taking it a lot calmer than most would."
It was probably true, but William didn't know how he was supposed to react to his own death. A screaming fit, a temper tantrum maybe, should he bawl himself to sleep? "You been busy today?"
"There are others working too. We all pick a folder of our own. Six people coming here today. Two elderly, one cancer patient, one murder, one overdose, and you."
William stood, still holding his folder, "Where do we go from here?"
------------------------------
William's head tilted back, a rough throaty laugh escaping from his lips, his fingers splayed across the pure white sheets of Travis' bed. His hand twists and grips the clean feeling cloth underneath him as Travis moves faster above him. "You do this with every new boy?"
Travis shook his head, grunting out a straightforward, "No," and the witty reply on William's lips is faded out in favor of a moan as the angle of Travis' thrusts change.
"There, right there," and William is writhing underneath a man he had just met, thinking if he were more coherent then he might just consider himself a little bit slutty, but as it were Travis' hand --nice strong big hand, William had taken the time to admire it previously-- was around William's cock, and he just couldn't bring himself to care.
His eyes were blown, every inch of him felt that way, and he stared at Travis with a sense of reverence. Tattoos covered his smooth skin, and white wings sprouted from his back. It matched his sheets, but not his dark complexion, and William thought the contrast made everything appear more pure. With Travis' thrusts becoming increasingly more erratic, it was only a matter of time before Travis came. They didn't use a condom, but William didn't feel as disgusting and as sweaty as he thought he might. Instead, as Travis jerked him off --such a nice guy, there had been others in the past who let William bother with his own hard on himself, not bothering themselves with extra effort so long as they got off-- he felt nothing less than satisfied. He guessed there must not be a sense of shame and guilt over one night stands in heaven. It was a nice touch.
Pulling away, Travis rolled over to William's side. Despite the new stains, William was surprised to notice that the sheets were still the untainted white they had been before.
"So that's where we go from there."
Travis nodded, "Yeah, I guess this time it was."
------------------------------
"When will I get my wings?"
"It takes a while sometimes," Travis answered, hunched over the stove making food for the both of them. William wasn't sure what was happening anymore, but he was pretty okay with that fact. He hadn't known what he was doing when he followed Travis home and fell into bed with him, and that had turned out well. He was going to go by beginner's luck, and Travis hadn't yet questioned why it had been weeks and William still hadn't left.
"I'm not waiting for someone to ring a bell, am I?" he chuckled nervously, half joking, but not really.
Travis outright laughed, "Naw doesn't work like that. It's not like the movies. What's it matter anyway? They're mostly a nuisance."
"I like your's," William admitted. Travis was already aware of that fact, they'd spent hours in bed with William tracing each brilliantly white feather, his face a mask of awe; he'd never seen a more beautiful thing than Travis laying on his stomach, his wings spread and exposed to William's brushing touches and fingertips.
Ladling a fair amount of chicken noodle soup into two bowls, Travis made a small noise to let William know he was still listening. He grabbed two spoons from a drawer --the top right drawer underneath the first cabinet, William already knew his way around Travis' apartment-- and turned to the kitchen table. Setting the bowls down, he cupped William's cheek and tilted the younger man's head up so he could kiss him briefly. "Don't think too hard, Bill. It'll happen."
William tugged the bowl of soup towards him, picking up the spoon but not eating yet. He sat there in silence before he looked up again. "Travis? The day I died, there were six people. You chose me. Why?"
Travis only shrugged, "I read your file. I just knew you'd be the best fit."
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Shirt off, William looked over his shoulder to admire himself in the mirror. Sharp shoulder blades stuck out with the way he curled his arms towards his chest, but it was the wings that caught and grabbed attention.
The sound of shuffled footsteps echoed down the hallway and soon Travis was standing in the doorframe of the bathroom, looking at William through bleary eyes. "You finally got your wings."
"Finally," William affirmed, moving with ease into Travis' arms. It felt like he was one piece of a two piece puzzle, and Travis hadn't kicked him out of the apartment yet, he didn't even know where he would go if Travis did since no one ever bothered explaining what should have happened next. There was silence, not of the awkward nature, as William stood there, leaning into Travis as Travis rubbed the pad of his fingers along the small gap of skin between his two wings.
"I love you."
"Don't say that," Travis answered, which made William stand up straighter and take notice. He didn't know why he was expecting the response of 'I love you too', but it surprised him that the words never came.
"Why not?"
"We just met a month ago. You can't love me yet."
"Fine," William replied, his lips curving into a frown, "Then I will love you."
"You won't."
"You can't tell me whether I will or I won't," William was becoming indignant, he alone could decide if he did or didn't love someone, and if he said he loved Travis then he was going to do so no matter what the other had to say about it.
"You can't because I won't be here forever," Travis replied, almost looking pained. The expression was enough to mute William's anger, but not enough to suppress his curiosity.
"What do you mean you won't be here forever?" William laughed, shaking his head, thinking the whole idea silly. That was the point of heaven, to be somewhere forever. It was the reward after pain and suffering in the purgatory that was earth. It came with ties and happiness that couldn't be found elsewhere, as well as a sense of agreeable simplicity in which William found immense delight.
"I signed up to be reincarnated."
"What's that, why?" The sinking feeling William had felt so many times before when he was alive returned, and he remembered clearly why he hadn't missed what he left behind. So much about being mortal was awful. The drama, the pain, the uncertainty; now that he knew how things could be he had no intention of turning back. He'd heard of reincarnation before, he knew what it meant, but he didn't understand why anyone --especially Travis-- would want that.
"I was unhappy. I wasn't doing what I wanted to be doing," Travis admitted with a shrug, "I went and filled out the forms and applied for reincarnation. They accepted my application. It was all before I ever knew you."
"If it was before me then why are you still here?"
"It's like your wings. It could happen at any time. I don't know when."
William moved his arms around Travis, clinging as if that would make a difference, as if that would keep him there any longer then he would be allowed. It didn't seem so much like heaven anymore.
------------------------------
One morning weeks later William woke up alone for the first time. He got up out of bed and looked around the apartment, but all that was left was the indentation in the bed sheets from where Travis had fallen asleep the previous night.
That morning he went and filled out an application for reincarnation.
A month and seven days later, William Beckett was born.
------------------------------
"I've got the best boys, Beckett."
"I know you do," William smiled at Gabe, hardly believing he was there in the first place. It was the Gabe Saporta and he was trying hard not to feel star struck, but he wasn't sure it was one hundred percent working. He couldn't help it, it was a natural response to the fact that they had a chance to make it big. Cobra Starship was brand new, but Saporta was experienced and it was a different style of music than his former band. William had been a fan of Midtown, but he was ready to support Gabe in any future endeavors. He had been a mix of surprise and ecstatic when Gabe decided to call him in for help on his little project. The Academy Is… had been going on steadily, but the fan base was still small, he hadn't figured he would've caught the attention of any other singers. He had never been more excited to be wrong.
Leaning over a notepad filled with scribbled out lyrics and annotations, Beckett didn't notice when two new people slinked into the room. It wasn't until after a looming presence over his shoulder spoke that he snapped out of his writing related day dreams.
"I don't know why you scratched that out," a finger pointed at one of the lines that had a bold black pen mark swiped across it, "It's good."
"Thanks." William felt a blush bloom across his cheeks, and he was feeling terribly self conscious. Closing his notebook, he stood up and turned, outstretching his hand. "I’m William Beckett."
"Hey, I'm Travis," the man introduced himself in reply, taking William's hand and shaking it, his grasp firm and steady.
William's heart started beating all over again, as if he hadn't really been alive before, this was the start of everything and everything clicked into place in a way he had never experienced before; at least not in the life he had always thought he remembered. It wasn't anything like what he would've thought, there were no flashes of his former existence, no flashes at all. One second he was oblivious and the next he knew. Days spent in bed, exploring each inch of each other, and then nights that were sometimes rough and sometimes gentle but always the best William had ever had. "Travis," William repeated, "Thanks." The memory of their first meeting was seared back into his memory, as if things had never changed, as if decades hadn't passed since then and their lives weren't more different than they ever expected them to be. He smiled eagerly at Travis, a slight smirk showing in the way the expression crinkled his eyes; he waited for Travis to take him into his arms and play into the inside joke, feed him the response he'd given so long ago.
"It's nothing, man," Travis shrugged and then glanced away as Gabe called for his attention across the studio.
"McCoy, get your ass over here."
Desperation pleaded in William's eyes, but nothing similar shone through in Travis' features. He beheld William in a way similar to how any person might look at a soon to be friendly acquaintance. The sinking feeling was back, yet all he could do was watch helplessly as Travis left his side to attend to whatever Gabe wanted. Putting on a smile of his own, he followed.
------------------------------
They all sat in a circle, passing around a bottle of who knew what, laughing about nothing in particular. They finally had a right to be foolhardy, after the final cut of the music video they were exhausted and done with posing and singing for the cameras and microphones. The work was over, it was time to reap the rewards.
"Pass it over here," Gabe called out, waving an arm in William's direction. William relinquished the bottle over to the older man who took an impressively long swig before pulling it away from his lips again.
"Sure can take it like a pro," Travis teased, "Bet your boyfriends appreciate you being able to hold something in your mouth and breathe through your nose for long periods of time."
"Are you implying I've been going around giving blows to boys?" Gabe asked, handing the bottle over to Maja who was sitting with her boots kicked up on the table, observing them all with a stony face. "Because then you'd be right. Just ask Beckett."
"Don't drag me into this," William reeled backwards, shaking his head and trying to keep a straight face, "I'm a good boy, just ask my mom."
"Damn straight," Travis answered with an air of smugness, though it was obviously feigned, "…wait, does that mean you won't let me in your pants?"
William shook his head stubbornly.
Setting an evil and poorly thought out plan into motion, Travis scooted out of his seat, instead choosing to perch himself on William's lap instead. "I will prove you wrong one day, Beckett, just you wait." Before William could push him off, Travis' fingers were dancing up and down his sides, tickling him. Taken by surprise, William squealed with laughter, pushing his heels against the carpet and trying to move away from Travis' touch.
"Wait, wait, stop!" Not that Travis was listening. William was breathing hard by the time he managed to get Travis' wrists pinned. He panted, leaned in close enough to Travis so that he could almost kiss him if he wanted to. Staring, William said the first thing that came to mind. "Do you believe in heaven?"
Leaning back, Travis laughed, "You say weird things to get out of being touched, Beckett." The moment over, he moved back to his own seat, reclining until he was comfortable, ignoring Gabe who was still laughing in the background.
"I mean it, do you?"
Travis shook his head, "Naw, not really. I just don't think anything could be that perfect."
"Yeah," William sighed, "I know what you mean."
------------------------------
William leaned back, enjoying the feeling of Travis' arms tight around his waist as he sang. He wasn't sure what elicited the change but he wasn't going to question it, all he knew was that more and more often Travis found his way to William's part of the stage. When that happened William gave up his need to run back and forth, dancing, in favor of letting himself be held. It was something he hadn't realized he'd missed so much. He thought he was doing okay, he was getting over things. He had no choice, because even though he remembered every touch and caress Travis remembered none of it. He couldn't fight fate; he didn't think he had the strength to. It got more difficult to try each time Travis decided to slide up behind him, fitting perfectly against his backside, making William want nothing more than to melt in his embrace.
"You do this with every boy?" William asked during a break between songs, moving the microphone away from his mouth and grinning at Travis.
"Only the real pretty ones," Travis answered, and though it wasn't what William was looking for, it was good enough. He lifted the microphone back up as the few notes of the next song started to play, and Travis stayed right where he was.
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"I'm thinking of getting a tattoo."
"Really?" Travis asked, sitting up from where he was lying on the couch of a dressing room. The tour was ending soon, which set a melancholy mood over all of them. William didn't feel he was ready to say goodbye yet. It was an exhausting lifestyle, but it was something he knew he wanted to do forever. They made a good group, the one song had become their theme, and if they could just keep it like that forever then William didn't think he'd mind becoming a one trick pony. Change was good, but he couldn't picture things getting any better than how they had been. He was still running on an incredible high, and when you're constantly living like that then there's no place to go but down.
"Yeah. So I figured I'd ask you. I know you do that kind of stuff." It was obvious why William had made that assumption; Travis' skin was filled within ink, and he had recently taken up on doing it himself. There was no one else that William would rather have bent over him with a tattoo gun.
"What were you thinking?"
William paused before stripping off his shirt, flexing his shoulders, "Angel wings. On my back."
Travis stared at the exposed skin, and William feared silently that he might laugh. From all the questions he'd asked in the past, Travis must've gotten the assumption that William was obsessed with the afterlife. Maybe he was. It was hard to think of anything else after experiencing it. A person couldn't look at life the same knowing what happens after. There was something to be said about ignorance in humanity. Perhaps it was a good thing after all. Knowledge had done no good in William's life; instead it made him ache for things he couldn't have.
"I think that suits you."
"Really?" William asked, perking up, taken off guard. He'd always thrown in this or that in an attempt to get Travis to remember. It never worked. Gradually William had stopped trying until he had outright given up all together.
"Yeah," Travis answered and he laid back down again, ending the conversation.
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There was a knock on the door of William's apartment, and he wasn't expected visitors but he dragged himself out of bed anyway. His hair was mussed and prescription glasses were perched upon his noses as he pulled open the door, meaning to ask why the person was there, but instead only managing to get out a quiet, "Travis."
"Hey."
It was a nice and simple greeting, but it did absolutely nothing to explain why Travis McCoy was standing at his doorstep in the Chicago land area when he knew for a fact that Travis lived in New York. He had been to the other's apartment briefly when they had a show in New York City and Travis had invited them all up for a drink at his place. He had stood at the airplane gate two weeks earlier and watched as Travis boarded a flight back to his home, trying to remind himself to keep it to the friendly hugs and touches to which they were accustomed.
"Hey," William answered in response, creasing his brows, "Is there something wrong?"
"Yeah," Travis replied, worrying William for a moment before he continued, "I need to know, where do we go from here?"
It felt like a punch to the gut, and William gaped, but he didn't let himself believe it. The last few months had taught him to be both optimistic and a cynic. "I don't know what you mean."
"You've always been presumptuous, Beckett. What changed?"
William didn't need any further invitation to do something he had wanted badly to do for so long. Cupping the back of Travis' neck, William stepped forward and smashed their mouths together. Travis responded immediately, sliding his lips against William's, and William accepted the contact hungrily. An arm moved around William's waist, and William was completely complacent, allowing himself to be guided backwards until he felt the back of the couch in his living room hit his shins. Only then did either of them come up to breath.
"You remembered."
Travis gave a small nod, "Your wings. They were beautiful. Like you." William ate up every word, reveling in the compliment that he had been denied the day he first got his wings, a moment ruined by the truth of Travis' fleeting nature. "I couldn't say before. I wasn't sure, thought maybe I only dreamed it up, but then you came to me with your wings. And I knew."
William kissed him again, unable and unwilling to stop himself as he tried to erase every bit of space between the two of them. He murmured against Travis' lips, "Can I love you yet?"
William could feel the smile as Travis spoke, "Only if I can love you."
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Treckett
Summary: Travis and Bill meet as angels in heaven. They fall in love, only to have it ripped away from them when Travis is reincarnated. Years later, they meet again as mortals, but William only finds heartbreak when he realizes Travis doesn't remember a thing.
Disclaimer: This is fictional.
Warning: Character death, brief sex scene
Author Note: Idea from a prompt off anon_lovefest. I must be on some reincarnation kick. Or maybe it's just the Treckett.
He didn't even see the car coming. That's how it usually was though, wasn't it? You're walking down the street minding your own business, it's just another day practically identical to the last and then suddenly your entire life has changed. Mainly because you're not living it anymore.
William's head hit the pavement, and he could feel it for all of a second before there was nothing. He stared up at the sky, he couldn't move anymore but he wasn't sure he would want to even if he could because it was nice. The sun was peeking behind fluffy clouds lighting up a pale blue background, and William hadn't noticed what a nice day it had been before. He noticed now though, and later was better than never. Even if it was too late. He listened to the sounds of sirens through pleasantly muffled ears, as if he was suspended underwater, separate from existence.
"Sir? Keep your eyes open, sir, help is on the way. You're going to be alright."
William wasn't sure who was speaking, everything was hazy and he could barely hear them over a gentle humming in his head, but he wanted to thank them. It was true, William was going to be alright. He could feel it.
Closing his eyes, he fell asleep.
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Starting off with death would normally be anti climactic. Where can a person go from there? The tale of grieving families and friends is hardly ever exciting. But it wasn't a proper end, no. It must've been painful William figured the more he thought about it. He hadn't seen the scene afterwards, but he had heard it was a mess. It hadn't been his intention to go out with a crash, he was never that dramatic, but he guessed some things in life couldn't be helped.
Same went for in death.
The beginning for the protagonist William was not when his mother pushed him from her womb twenty one years earlier, but rather with three words.
"Hey, I'm Travis."
William could feel his heart beat again.
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"Man, you alright?"
William stared, his blue skies replaced with stark white nothingness interrupted by the head and shoulders of another peering into his field of vision. He smiled at the person, a natural reaction. "Thanks."
The man laughed, "What're you thanking me for? I've done nothing yet."
Contemplating this for a second, William answered in the best way he could, "It's in advance."
"You're assuming I'm going to help you out?" the stranger queried, brows raising, but the open honest look on his face told William he wasn't wrong to assume. He'd always been a good judge in character. "That's extremely presumptuous. I think I like you."
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He wasn't sure what he expected, but the heaven he found wasn't it. William guessed that was the point of it all, that no mortal is supposed to be able to guess anyway, and that's what makes it worth it. He couldn't say he agreed with that logic exactly, but in the least he understood it. That's what Travis told him anyway.
"So you have to help me then?" William asked, hands clutching a manila folder, eyes peering up at the other from where he still sat in the bed he woke up in. "So I was right. Not presumptuous."
"Still presumptuous," Travis remarked, eying William with interest that William noted happily, "But right. It's my job. I help people get situated in a new life."
"You're in heaven and they put you to work?" William asked, curious and confused as to why anyone would chose to do that, or if they even had a choice. He wasn't sure he wanted to be a part of some afterlife that took away his constitutional rights.
"I like helping," Travis responded simply. He nodded towards the folder that was in William's hands, "That's your life written in there. The day before you're expected, the folder arrives on my desk. Helps me help you. I read it. What happened to you. I'm sorry."
William wondered how many times Travis had said that in the past. What else could a person be but sorry when talking to the newly deceased? That thought rolled idly in his head, deceased , it was a strange and almost unpleasant term to prescribe upon himself. "It's okay." William answered, "You weren't the one behind the wheel."
"You're taking it a lot calmer than most would."
It was probably true, but William didn't know how he was supposed to react to his own death. A screaming fit, a temper tantrum maybe, should he bawl himself to sleep? "You been busy today?"
"There are others working too. We all pick a folder of our own. Six people coming here today. Two elderly, one cancer patient, one murder, one overdose, and you."
William stood, still holding his folder, "Where do we go from here?"
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William's head tilted back, a rough throaty laugh escaping from his lips, his fingers splayed across the pure white sheets of Travis' bed. His hand twists and grips the clean feeling cloth underneath him as Travis moves faster above him. "You do this with every new boy?"
Travis shook his head, grunting out a straightforward, "No," and the witty reply on William's lips is faded out in favor of a moan as the angle of Travis' thrusts change.
"There, right there," and William is writhing underneath a man he had just met, thinking if he were more coherent then he might just consider himself a little bit slutty, but as it were Travis' hand --nice strong big hand, William had taken the time to admire it previously-- was around William's cock, and he just couldn't bring himself to care.
His eyes were blown, every inch of him felt that way, and he stared at Travis with a sense of reverence. Tattoos covered his smooth skin, and white wings sprouted from his back. It matched his sheets, but not his dark complexion, and William thought the contrast made everything appear more pure. With Travis' thrusts becoming increasingly more erratic, it was only a matter of time before Travis came. They didn't use a condom, but William didn't feel as disgusting and as sweaty as he thought he might. Instead, as Travis jerked him off --such a nice guy, there had been others in the past who let William bother with his own hard on himself, not bothering themselves with extra effort so long as they got off-- he felt nothing less than satisfied. He guessed there must not be a sense of shame and guilt over one night stands in heaven. It was a nice touch.
Pulling away, Travis rolled over to William's side. Despite the new stains, William was surprised to notice that the sheets were still the untainted white they had been before.
"So that's where we go from there."
Travis nodded, "Yeah, I guess this time it was."
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"When will I get my wings?"
"It takes a while sometimes," Travis answered, hunched over the stove making food for the both of them. William wasn't sure what was happening anymore, but he was pretty okay with that fact. He hadn't known what he was doing when he followed Travis home and fell into bed with him, and that had turned out well. He was going to go by beginner's luck, and Travis hadn't yet questioned why it had been weeks and William still hadn't left.
"I'm not waiting for someone to ring a bell, am I?" he chuckled nervously, half joking, but not really.
Travis outright laughed, "Naw doesn't work like that. It's not like the movies. What's it matter anyway? They're mostly a nuisance."
"I like your's," William admitted. Travis was already aware of that fact, they'd spent hours in bed with William tracing each brilliantly white feather, his face a mask of awe; he'd never seen a more beautiful thing than Travis laying on his stomach, his wings spread and exposed to William's brushing touches and fingertips.
Ladling a fair amount of chicken noodle soup into two bowls, Travis made a small noise to let William know he was still listening. He grabbed two spoons from a drawer --the top right drawer underneath the first cabinet, William already knew his way around Travis' apartment-- and turned to the kitchen table. Setting the bowls down, he cupped William's cheek and tilted the younger man's head up so he could kiss him briefly. "Don't think too hard, Bill. It'll happen."
William tugged the bowl of soup towards him, picking up the spoon but not eating yet. He sat there in silence before he looked up again. "Travis? The day I died, there were six people. You chose me. Why?"
Travis only shrugged, "I read your file. I just knew you'd be the best fit."
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Shirt off, William looked over his shoulder to admire himself in the mirror. Sharp shoulder blades stuck out with the way he curled his arms towards his chest, but it was the wings that caught and grabbed attention.
The sound of shuffled footsteps echoed down the hallway and soon Travis was standing in the doorframe of the bathroom, looking at William through bleary eyes. "You finally got your wings."
"Finally," William affirmed, moving with ease into Travis' arms. It felt like he was one piece of a two piece puzzle, and Travis hadn't kicked him out of the apartment yet, he didn't even know where he would go if Travis did since no one ever bothered explaining what should have happened next. There was silence, not of the awkward nature, as William stood there, leaning into Travis as Travis rubbed the pad of his fingers along the small gap of skin between his two wings.
"I love you."
"Don't say that," Travis answered, which made William stand up straighter and take notice. He didn't know why he was expecting the response of 'I love you too', but it surprised him that the words never came.
"Why not?"
"We just met a month ago. You can't love me yet."
"Fine," William replied, his lips curving into a frown, "Then I will love you."
"You won't."
"You can't tell me whether I will or I won't," William was becoming indignant, he alone could decide if he did or didn't love someone, and if he said he loved Travis then he was going to do so no matter what the other had to say about it.
"You can't because I won't be here forever," Travis replied, almost looking pained. The expression was enough to mute William's anger, but not enough to suppress his curiosity.
"What do you mean you won't be here forever?" William laughed, shaking his head, thinking the whole idea silly. That was the point of heaven, to be somewhere forever. It was the reward after pain and suffering in the purgatory that was earth. It came with ties and happiness that couldn't be found elsewhere, as well as a sense of agreeable simplicity in which William found immense delight.
"I signed up to be reincarnated."
"What's that, why?" The sinking feeling William had felt so many times before when he was alive returned, and he remembered clearly why he hadn't missed what he left behind. So much about being mortal was awful. The drama, the pain, the uncertainty; now that he knew how things could be he had no intention of turning back. He'd heard of reincarnation before, he knew what it meant, but he didn't understand why anyone --especially Travis-- would want that.
"I was unhappy. I wasn't doing what I wanted to be doing," Travis admitted with a shrug, "I went and filled out the forms and applied for reincarnation. They accepted my application. It was all before I ever knew you."
"If it was before me then why are you still here?"
"It's like your wings. It could happen at any time. I don't know when."
William moved his arms around Travis, clinging as if that would make a difference, as if that would keep him there any longer then he would be allowed. It didn't seem so much like heaven anymore.
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One morning weeks later William woke up alone for the first time. He got up out of bed and looked around the apartment, but all that was left was the indentation in the bed sheets from where Travis had fallen asleep the previous night.
That morning he went and filled out an application for reincarnation.
A month and seven days later, William Beckett was born.
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"I've got the best boys, Beckett."
"I know you do," William smiled at Gabe, hardly believing he was there in the first place. It was the Gabe Saporta and he was trying hard not to feel star struck, but he wasn't sure it was one hundred percent working. He couldn't help it, it was a natural response to the fact that they had a chance to make it big. Cobra Starship was brand new, but Saporta was experienced and it was a different style of music than his former band. William had been a fan of Midtown, but he was ready to support Gabe in any future endeavors. He had been a mix of surprise and ecstatic when Gabe decided to call him in for help on his little project. The Academy Is… had been going on steadily, but the fan base was still small, he hadn't figured he would've caught the attention of any other singers. He had never been more excited to be wrong.
Leaning over a notepad filled with scribbled out lyrics and annotations, Beckett didn't notice when two new people slinked into the room. It wasn't until after a looming presence over his shoulder spoke that he snapped out of his writing related day dreams.
"I don't know why you scratched that out," a finger pointed at one of the lines that had a bold black pen mark swiped across it, "It's good."
"Thanks." William felt a blush bloom across his cheeks, and he was feeling terribly self conscious. Closing his notebook, he stood up and turned, outstretching his hand. "I’m William Beckett."
"Hey, I'm Travis," the man introduced himself in reply, taking William's hand and shaking it, his grasp firm and steady.
William's heart started beating all over again, as if he hadn't really been alive before, this was the start of everything and everything clicked into place in a way he had never experienced before; at least not in the life he had always thought he remembered. It wasn't anything like what he would've thought, there were no flashes of his former existence, no flashes at all. One second he was oblivious and the next he knew. Days spent in bed, exploring each inch of each other, and then nights that were sometimes rough and sometimes gentle but always the best William had ever had. "Travis," William repeated, "Thanks." The memory of their first meeting was seared back into his memory, as if things had never changed, as if decades hadn't passed since then and their lives weren't more different than they ever expected them to be. He smiled eagerly at Travis, a slight smirk showing in the way the expression crinkled his eyes; he waited for Travis to take him into his arms and play into the inside joke, feed him the response he'd given so long ago.
"It's nothing, man," Travis shrugged and then glanced away as Gabe called for his attention across the studio.
"McCoy, get your ass over here."
Desperation pleaded in William's eyes, but nothing similar shone through in Travis' features. He beheld William in a way similar to how any person might look at a soon to be friendly acquaintance. The sinking feeling was back, yet all he could do was watch helplessly as Travis left his side to attend to whatever Gabe wanted. Putting on a smile of his own, he followed.
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They all sat in a circle, passing around a bottle of who knew what, laughing about nothing in particular. They finally had a right to be foolhardy, after the final cut of the music video they were exhausted and done with posing and singing for the cameras and microphones. The work was over, it was time to reap the rewards.
"Pass it over here," Gabe called out, waving an arm in William's direction. William relinquished the bottle over to the older man who took an impressively long swig before pulling it away from his lips again.
"Sure can take it like a pro," Travis teased, "Bet your boyfriends appreciate you being able to hold something in your mouth and breathe through your nose for long periods of time."
"Are you implying I've been going around giving blows to boys?" Gabe asked, handing the bottle over to Maja who was sitting with her boots kicked up on the table, observing them all with a stony face. "Because then you'd be right. Just ask Beckett."
"Don't drag me into this," William reeled backwards, shaking his head and trying to keep a straight face, "I'm a good boy, just ask my mom."
"Damn straight," Travis answered with an air of smugness, though it was obviously feigned, "…wait, does that mean you won't let me in your pants?"
William shook his head stubbornly.
Setting an evil and poorly thought out plan into motion, Travis scooted out of his seat, instead choosing to perch himself on William's lap instead. "I will prove you wrong one day, Beckett, just you wait." Before William could push him off, Travis' fingers were dancing up and down his sides, tickling him. Taken by surprise, William squealed with laughter, pushing his heels against the carpet and trying to move away from Travis' touch.
"Wait, wait, stop!" Not that Travis was listening. William was breathing hard by the time he managed to get Travis' wrists pinned. He panted, leaned in close enough to Travis so that he could almost kiss him if he wanted to. Staring, William said the first thing that came to mind. "Do you believe in heaven?"
Leaning back, Travis laughed, "You say weird things to get out of being touched, Beckett." The moment over, he moved back to his own seat, reclining until he was comfortable, ignoring Gabe who was still laughing in the background.
"I mean it, do you?"
Travis shook his head, "Naw, not really. I just don't think anything could be that perfect."
"Yeah," William sighed, "I know what you mean."
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William leaned back, enjoying the feeling of Travis' arms tight around his waist as he sang. He wasn't sure what elicited the change but he wasn't going to question it, all he knew was that more and more often Travis found his way to William's part of the stage. When that happened William gave up his need to run back and forth, dancing, in favor of letting himself be held. It was something he hadn't realized he'd missed so much. He thought he was doing okay, he was getting over things. He had no choice, because even though he remembered every touch and caress Travis remembered none of it. He couldn't fight fate; he didn't think he had the strength to. It got more difficult to try each time Travis decided to slide up behind him, fitting perfectly against his backside, making William want nothing more than to melt in his embrace.
"You do this with every boy?" William asked during a break between songs, moving the microphone away from his mouth and grinning at Travis.
"Only the real pretty ones," Travis answered, and though it wasn't what William was looking for, it was good enough. He lifted the microphone back up as the few notes of the next song started to play, and Travis stayed right where he was.
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"I'm thinking of getting a tattoo."
"Really?" Travis asked, sitting up from where he was lying on the couch of a dressing room. The tour was ending soon, which set a melancholy mood over all of them. William didn't feel he was ready to say goodbye yet. It was an exhausting lifestyle, but it was something he knew he wanted to do forever. They made a good group, the one song had become their theme, and if they could just keep it like that forever then William didn't think he'd mind becoming a one trick pony. Change was good, but he couldn't picture things getting any better than how they had been. He was still running on an incredible high, and when you're constantly living like that then there's no place to go but down.
"Yeah. So I figured I'd ask you. I know you do that kind of stuff." It was obvious why William had made that assumption; Travis' skin was filled within ink, and he had recently taken up on doing it himself. There was no one else that William would rather have bent over him with a tattoo gun.
"What were you thinking?"
William paused before stripping off his shirt, flexing his shoulders, "Angel wings. On my back."
Travis stared at the exposed skin, and William feared silently that he might laugh. From all the questions he'd asked in the past, Travis must've gotten the assumption that William was obsessed with the afterlife. Maybe he was. It was hard to think of anything else after experiencing it. A person couldn't look at life the same knowing what happens after. There was something to be said about ignorance in humanity. Perhaps it was a good thing after all. Knowledge had done no good in William's life; instead it made him ache for things he couldn't have.
"I think that suits you."
"Really?" William asked, perking up, taken off guard. He'd always thrown in this or that in an attempt to get Travis to remember. It never worked. Gradually William had stopped trying until he had outright given up all together.
"Yeah," Travis answered and he laid back down again, ending the conversation.
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There was a knock on the door of William's apartment, and he wasn't expected visitors but he dragged himself out of bed anyway. His hair was mussed and prescription glasses were perched upon his noses as he pulled open the door, meaning to ask why the person was there, but instead only managing to get out a quiet, "Travis."
"Hey."
It was a nice and simple greeting, but it did absolutely nothing to explain why Travis McCoy was standing at his doorstep in the Chicago land area when he knew for a fact that Travis lived in New York. He had been to the other's apartment briefly when they had a show in New York City and Travis had invited them all up for a drink at his place. He had stood at the airplane gate two weeks earlier and watched as Travis boarded a flight back to his home, trying to remind himself to keep it to the friendly hugs and touches to which they were accustomed.
"Hey," William answered in response, creasing his brows, "Is there something wrong?"
"Yeah," Travis replied, worrying William for a moment before he continued, "I need to know, where do we go from here?"
It felt like a punch to the gut, and William gaped, but he didn't let himself believe it. The last few months had taught him to be both optimistic and a cynic. "I don't know what you mean."
"You've always been presumptuous, Beckett. What changed?"
William didn't need any further invitation to do something he had wanted badly to do for so long. Cupping the back of Travis' neck, William stepped forward and smashed their mouths together. Travis responded immediately, sliding his lips against William's, and William accepted the contact hungrily. An arm moved around William's waist, and William was completely complacent, allowing himself to be guided backwards until he felt the back of the couch in his living room hit his shins. Only then did either of them come up to breath.
"You remembered."
Travis gave a small nod, "Your wings. They were beautiful. Like you." William ate up every word, reveling in the compliment that he had been denied the day he first got his wings, a moment ruined by the truth of Travis' fleeting nature. "I couldn't say before. I wasn't sure, thought maybe I only dreamed it up, but then you came to me with your wings. And I knew."
William kissed him again, unable and unwilling to stop himself as he tried to erase every bit of space between the two of them. He murmured against Travis' lips, "Can I love you yet?"
William could feel the smile as Travis spoke, "Only if I can love you."