Not As Think As You Drunk I Am
Title: Not As Think As You Drunk I Am
Words: 1,491
Fandom: Bandom/Torchwood (Bill/Gabe)
A/N: Written for schmoop_bingo square injury - minor.
Gabe is wandering the streets of Cardiff at two in the morning, drunk, and he’s pretty sure he’s never been this close to happy. Cobra is taking off, he’s touring the world with fifty-something of his closest friends, doing what they fucking love to do, Hell, whatever they want to do, and Bill, fucking little William 'My hair has more fans than Midtown' Beckett had kissed him. Last night, under a streetlight after the show in London, Bill had really kissed him. No bands, no fans, just the two of them, and to Gabe it felt like they were the only two people on the planet.
Gabe won’t admit to anyone just how incredibly, stupidly happy he is over it all-except maybe Travis. Travis is the best guy to be stupidly happy around, because he gets just as stupid and happy as Gabe, and it’s all genuine, if a little confusing and metaphor-y. Gabe pulls his cell phone out of his pocket, fidgeting with the antenna. He should call Travis-or Bill.
He hadn't been able to get a moment alone with Bill since they'd arrived back at the hotel afterward, their respective bands splitting them up almost immediately for some reason or another. Gabe had tried to call Bill earlier that night (pointedly ignoring the way he was calling not even twenty-four hours after the fact-God he felt needy, but he wants to see Bill). Instead of Bill though, he'd gotten Sisky and the Butcher, and a Hell of a lot of giggling for a couple of dudes, and after twenty minutes of trying to get a straight answer to "Where the fuck is Bill?" and the addition of Mike Carden to the party line, Gabe had hung up, confident in his belief that Bill would call him back as soon as he managed to get his phone back.
That had been four hours and three bars ago though. Gabe’s the last man standing by default, as Alex and Victoria had turned back already, Ryland can’t quite stand, and Nate is talking to the Colonel, a retired army man he met at the last bar (that apparently only Nate could see). Gabe shoves the both of them (three counting the Colonel) in the back of a cab, and sends them off the way they came.
With a quick, mostly intelligible phone call to Tony to let him know most of the band was going to be at the hotel soon and would most likely be unable to get back to their rooms on their own, Gabe slips back out the bar doors and onto the streets, breathing in the cool night air. The ever-present threat of rain tickles the back of his throat, and he wanders down the middle of the deserted street with a smile on his face.
Gabe is on tour, in Europe, and in love.
And of course, Gabe thinks later, that’s when the universe decides to flip out on him.
He takes two more steps before he notices it. Gabe stares at the half-man, half...something that’s staring back at him. Gabe blinks, decides he’s a bit drunker than he'd thought, and keeps walking, wondering how pissy Tony would be if he called asking for a ride-
The half-thing growls at him as he approaches. Gabe raises an eyebrow disapprovingly.
"Usually my hallucinations don't talk," he tells the thing.
"She's no hallucination, mate."
Gabe turns to stare at the new hallucination on his right. It’s a man this time, and he is significantly hotter than the half-thing, which is now a couple feet away, backing up slowly.
"Her name's Janet," he raises his voice, directing his next comment at it-er, her, Gabe supposes. "And she's been a very naughty little girl."
Gabe wonders for a second if he's passed out. Maybe he’s dreaming. He's had two lucid dreams before, both very enjoyable; one had starred Bill, and the other had starred Bill and his imaginary-and-evil-but-incredibly-flexible twin brother Will. Gabe's subconscious has been good to him in the past, especially when he falls asleep watching the Big Mess video.
Why should now be any different, Gabe shrugs to himself. Only one way to find out.
Grabbing the guy next to him by the shirt, Gabe kisses him.
It’s nice for a while, and Gabe starts to think this all is a dream-until he gets shoved onto his ass and the guy starts swearing loudly. Gabe lets his head loll to the side. The half-thing is gone. Even in his current state, Gabe figures out pretty quick that's why the guy was still swearing instead of ravishing him.
"So this isn't a dream, huh?" he asks. The guy ignores him, talking quietly but urgently into some sort of communicator thing in his ear. "So I think I just cheated on Bill too then. Fuck. I don't think it counts though, we're not like-fuck. Fuck, he didn't like, ask me out or anything, we just kissed a bit. And-and I'm really drunk, and I thought you weren't real. Do you think he'll care? Does that count?"
The other guy drops his hand from his ear finally and glares at Gabe.
"For all the trouble you just caused, I ought to find this William and tell him how we spent the entire night together." Gabe feels his stomach clench as the other man continues angrily. "Thank you, thanks a fucking lot, you little twat! Do you have any idea how long we've been-"
"Lay off the tourists, Doc."
"We're lucky he didn't get mauled."
"Okay," Gabe tries to sit up. He topples over to the other side instead. Way more drunk than he thought, he decides. "I think I must still be dreaming, because man, there cannot be this many hot guys in fucking Wales."
The new hallucinations look at each other, then at the first guy, then Gabe.
"And I'm not a tourist," Gabe continues, only slightly aware that he’s on the edge of babbling. "I'm a rock star. And he's not a doctor, because I fell over and I could be hurt and he did fucking nothing to help me."
"His bedside manner generally leaves something to be desired," the younger-looking guy nods. "Such as manners."
"Piss off Ianto," the doctor grumbles, squatting next to Gabe and peering at him all the same. "Most of my patients don't have pulses, I don't need manners."
Gabe scoots back a little. "Is that before or after you treat them?"
"Sometimes both," the last guy leans forward, offering Gabe his hand. "Captain Jack Harkness, nice to meet you."
"Hi, I'm ugh," Gabe groans. He's attempting to shake Captain Jack's hand, but instead finds himself being pulled to his feet before he’s at all ready for it. He swoons, honest to God swoons into the guy's arms. They both stumble a bit until Gabe's inner ear catches up with the party, and he stands up straight again.
"My God," Ianto mutters.
"I know," Owen nudges him. "It's like someone on a rack, like in a cartoon."
"Shut up," Gabe scowls at them all. "I'm just tall for my age."
Captain Jack grins. "I think you're tall for anyone's age."
"I have it on good authority that you're just jealous."
"Good authority?"
"My grandmother," Gabe nods. Slowly. "Anytime someone picked on me, they were jealous."
"Jack," Owen sighs. "We don't have time for this."
”Ah. My apologies,” Jack nods at Gabe, sticking out his hand. “To you and your grandmother, Mr…”
“Gabe,” he nods, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you too, Mr. Jack…Jack…what was it again?”
“Mr. Gabe,” Jack grins. “Adieu.”
“I do too,” Gabe nods, feeling a little dizzy, and by the time he manages to stop nodding again they’re all gone, what the fuck.
“Gabe?”
Gabe spins around, clutching the nearest lamp post and squinting at the figure in front of him. “Tony? Tony! You would not believe-”
“I would not believe that I’m out in fucking Cardiff, at three in the morning, in my pajamas, looking for you?” Tony snaps, arms crossed tightly across his chest. “Yeah. You’re right. I don’t. Get in the damn car.”
“But-did you see-“
“Now, Gabe,” Tony sighs, already back in the driver’s seat. “I wanna sleep sometime tonight, alright?”
With a last look at the deserted street, Gabe climbs into the car. He feels drunker when he sits, and he thinks about rolling the window down, just in case the hallucinations were an early-warning system before Pukesville. He does, hanging his head out the window like a dog and trying to avoid the mess of footprints across the pavement, too many to have come from just one person.
“Hey Tony?” he asks, as Tony turns the car around.
“What?”
“You see those guys I was talking to?”
Tony rubs the bridge of his nose, the way he does when he’s got a headache coming on. “What guys, Gabe?”
“…never mind. You talk to Bill lately?”
Words: 1,491
Fandom: Bandom/Torchwood (Bill/Gabe)
A/N: Written for schmoop_bingo square injury - minor.
Gabe is wandering the streets of Cardiff at two in the morning, drunk, and he’s pretty sure he’s never been this close to happy. Cobra is taking off, he’s touring the world with fifty-something of his closest friends, doing what they fucking love to do, Hell, whatever they want to do, and Bill, fucking little William 'My hair has more fans than Midtown' Beckett had kissed him. Last night, under a streetlight after the show in London, Bill had really kissed him. No bands, no fans, just the two of them, and to Gabe it felt like they were the only two people on the planet.
Gabe won’t admit to anyone just how incredibly, stupidly happy he is over it all-except maybe Travis. Travis is the best guy to be stupidly happy around, because he gets just as stupid and happy as Gabe, and it’s all genuine, if a little confusing and metaphor-y. Gabe pulls his cell phone out of his pocket, fidgeting with the antenna. He should call Travis-or Bill.
He hadn't been able to get a moment alone with Bill since they'd arrived back at the hotel afterward, their respective bands splitting them up almost immediately for some reason or another. Gabe had tried to call Bill earlier that night (pointedly ignoring the way he was calling not even twenty-four hours after the fact-God he felt needy, but he wants to see Bill). Instead of Bill though, he'd gotten Sisky and the Butcher, and a Hell of a lot of giggling for a couple of dudes, and after twenty minutes of trying to get a straight answer to "Where the fuck is Bill?" and the addition of Mike Carden to the party line, Gabe had hung up, confident in his belief that Bill would call him back as soon as he managed to get his phone back.
That had been four hours and three bars ago though. Gabe’s the last man standing by default, as Alex and Victoria had turned back already, Ryland can’t quite stand, and Nate is talking to the Colonel, a retired army man he met at the last bar (that apparently only Nate could see). Gabe shoves the both of them (three counting the Colonel) in the back of a cab, and sends them off the way they came.
With a quick, mostly intelligible phone call to Tony to let him know most of the band was going to be at the hotel soon and would most likely be unable to get back to their rooms on their own, Gabe slips back out the bar doors and onto the streets, breathing in the cool night air. The ever-present threat of rain tickles the back of his throat, and he wanders down the middle of the deserted street with a smile on his face.
Gabe is on tour, in Europe, and in love.
And of course, Gabe thinks later, that’s when the universe decides to flip out on him.
He takes two more steps before he notices it. Gabe stares at the half-man, half...something that’s staring back at him. Gabe blinks, decides he’s a bit drunker than he'd thought, and keeps walking, wondering how pissy Tony would be if he called asking for a ride-
The half-thing growls at him as he approaches. Gabe raises an eyebrow disapprovingly.
"Usually my hallucinations don't talk," he tells the thing.
"She's no hallucination, mate."
Gabe turns to stare at the new hallucination on his right. It’s a man this time, and he is significantly hotter than the half-thing, which is now a couple feet away, backing up slowly.
"Her name's Janet," he raises his voice, directing his next comment at it-er, her, Gabe supposes. "And she's been a very naughty little girl."
Gabe wonders for a second if he's passed out. Maybe he’s dreaming. He's had two lucid dreams before, both very enjoyable; one had starred Bill, and the other had starred Bill and his imaginary-and-evil-but-incredibly-flexible twin brother Will. Gabe's subconscious has been good to him in the past, especially when he falls asleep watching the Big Mess video.
Why should now be any different, Gabe shrugs to himself. Only one way to find out.
Grabbing the guy next to him by the shirt, Gabe kisses him.
It’s nice for a while, and Gabe starts to think this all is a dream-until he gets shoved onto his ass and the guy starts swearing loudly. Gabe lets his head loll to the side. The half-thing is gone. Even in his current state, Gabe figures out pretty quick that's why the guy was still swearing instead of ravishing him.
"So this isn't a dream, huh?" he asks. The guy ignores him, talking quietly but urgently into some sort of communicator thing in his ear. "So I think I just cheated on Bill too then. Fuck. I don't think it counts though, we're not like-fuck. Fuck, he didn't like, ask me out or anything, we just kissed a bit. And-and I'm really drunk, and I thought you weren't real. Do you think he'll care? Does that count?"
The other guy drops his hand from his ear finally and glares at Gabe.
"For all the trouble you just caused, I ought to find this William and tell him how we spent the entire night together." Gabe feels his stomach clench as the other man continues angrily. "Thank you, thanks a fucking lot, you little twat! Do you have any idea how long we've been-"
"Lay off the tourists, Doc."
"We're lucky he didn't get mauled."
"Okay," Gabe tries to sit up. He topples over to the other side instead. Way more drunk than he thought, he decides. "I think I must still be dreaming, because man, there cannot be this many hot guys in fucking Wales."
The new hallucinations look at each other, then at the first guy, then Gabe.
"And I'm not a tourist," Gabe continues, only slightly aware that he’s on the edge of babbling. "I'm a rock star. And he's not a doctor, because I fell over and I could be hurt and he did fucking nothing to help me."
"His bedside manner generally leaves something to be desired," the younger-looking guy nods. "Such as manners."
"Piss off Ianto," the doctor grumbles, squatting next to Gabe and peering at him all the same. "Most of my patients don't have pulses, I don't need manners."
Gabe scoots back a little. "Is that before or after you treat them?"
"Sometimes both," the last guy leans forward, offering Gabe his hand. "Captain Jack Harkness, nice to meet you."
"Hi, I'm ugh," Gabe groans. He's attempting to shake Captain Jack's hand, but instead finds himself being pulled to his feet before he’s at all ready for it. He swoons, honest to God swoons into the guy's arms. They both stumble a bit until Gabe's inner ear catches up with the party, and he stands up straight again.
"My God," Ianto mutters.
"I know," Owen nudges him. "It's like someone on a rack, like in a cartoon."
"Shut up," Gabe scowls at them all. "I'm just tall for my age."
Captain Jack grins. "I think you're tall for anyone's age."
"I have it on good authority that you're just jealous."
"Good authority?"
"My grandmother," Gabe nods. Slowly. "Anytime someone picked on me, they were jealous."
"Jack," Owen sighs. "We don't have time for this."
”Ah. My apologies,” Jack nods at Gabe, sticking out his hand. “To you and your grandmother, Mr…”
“Gabe,” he nods, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you too, Mr. Jack…Jack…what was it again?”
“Mr. Gabe,” Jack grins. “Adieu.”
“I do too,” Gabe nods, feeling a little dizzy, and by the time he manages to stop nodding again they’re all gone, what the fuck.
“Gabe?”
Gabe spins around, clutching the nearest lamp post and squinting at the figure in front of him. “Tony? Tony! You would not believe-”
“I would not believe that I’m out in fucking Cardiff, at three in the morning, in my pajamas, looking for you?” Tony snaps, arms crossed tightly across his chest. “Yeah. You’re right. I don’t. Get in the damn car.”
“But-did you see-“
“Now, Gabe,” Tony sighs, already back in the driver’s seat. “I wanna sleep sometime tonight, alright?”
With a last look at the deserted street, Gabe climbs into the car. He feels drunker when he sits, and he thinks about rolling the window down, just in case the hallucinations were an early-warning system before Pukesville. He does, hanging his head out the window like a dog and trying to avoid the mess of footprints across the pavement, too many to have come from just one person.
“Hey Tony?” he asks, as Tony turns the car around.
“What?”
“You see those guys I was talking to?”
Tony rubs the bridge of his nose, the way he does when he’s got a headache coming on. “What guys, Gabe?”
“…never mind. You talk to Bill lately?”