Fic: Six Months, Twenty-Four Days, Ten Hours and Five Minutes, Bill/Gustav, PG-13, 1/1
Title: Six Months, Twenty-Four Days, Ten Hours and Five Minutes
Author: ???
Pairing(s): Bill/Gustav
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own these folks. They are their own people.
Warnings: Angst, Language, (mild) adult content, and some fluff
Summary: When you're not with the one you love, it seems all you can do is count.
Recipient: Hexenhasel
Author's notes: I hope you have the merriest of Christmases, Hexenhasel. This one is all for you! I'd also like to thank thywillbedone for all her help in the darkest of hours.
It had been six months. Six months, twelve days, five hours, and eight and a half minutes since Bill had seen Gustav in person. (Not that he had been counting!) And IF Bill was going to be honest about the situation; the last time that they had seen each other was utter shit. Everyone in the band had to be puppets for the label, and only one time had he been able to sneak off with his boyfriend.
“Boyfriend…” Bill mumbled as he wandered towards his kitchen, “Funny word.” He finished, crossing into the kitchen area.
“What are you mumbling about?” his twin asked, looking up from his laptop that was sitting on top of the table in front of him. He appeared puzzled, looking at Bill as if he was either going to explode or maybe he was just insane because he was talking to himself.
“Boyfriend.” Bill replied, snatching Tom’s coffee off of the table in one swoop of his hand. He had gulped half of it down before Tom could protest that it was his coffee and not Bill’s. He made a face, “This is not sweet enough.”
Tom made an equally disgusted face, “Get your own coffee and then you can bitch whether it’s sweet enough for you. Now what about boyfriends?” he asked, snatching his mug back.
“It’s a funny word. I don’t think I should use it anymore.” Bill responded, slamming the cabinet that he’d managed to open while Tom had tried to scold him. He sat his own mug down on the counter, “It just doesn’t have enough MEANING.” He explained, while dosing the coffee with sugar.
Tom snorted, and Bill could hear him clacking at a few keys on his laptop, “So precious GUSTAV isn’t good enough for the word?” he sneered.
Bill inhaled through his nostrils sharply, “Stop it, Tom. You like Gustav.”
“Sure. I like Gustav, but not in regards to YOU.” Tom resumed clicking on whatever he was working on.
“It’s been YEARS!” Bill argued, tossing his spoon in the sink, “Don’t give me that!”
“Sure, sure.” Tom said, and the both of them made eye contact, “I like Gustav. He’s our drummer in our band. But when it comes to him being your boyfriend, “ Tom explained, letting Bill cringe at the word, “I don’t accept the fact that he upsets you.”
“UPSETS ME?!” Bill boomed, “He doesn’t UPSET ME!”
“Bullshit!” Tom argued, “You know it! All you get are texts, some phone calls, and an occasional Skype. Would it kill the guy to come visit you?”
Bill took a sip of his coffee, letting it linger in his mouth while he tried to formulate a response to his brother, “I get what you are saying. But, someone could easily say the same about me.”
Tom snorted again, and slammed down the lid on his laptop, “Right. The last TWO times you’ve seen him on your own terms without someone controlling the strings, it was YOU who went to see him, not the other way around.” He pointed out.
Bill clenched his jaw, and stared at his twin. He licked his lip, and decided that he was done with his coffee. It was time for him to go crawl back into bed. Sometimes, it was just easier to deal that way. He could vaguely make out that his brother was trying to still talk to him, but his mind had already shut down.
It had now been six months, twelve days, five hours, and sixteen minutes.
~*~
Before he’d decided to ignore his twin, Bill had crawled into bed and typed off a quick “I miss you” text to Gustav. He decided, rather than dwelling on how long it had been since he’d seen his love, to hole himself up in his bedroom and get sucked into a television void. Of course, being this close to Christmas, every channel known to man was devoted to the subject. Most of them focused on the happy, feel- good vibes associated with the holiday.
“Bah Humbug!” Bill grumbled, wanting to throw the remote at the T.V. screen. Of course, he could always watch a movie from the vast collection that he owned. Then again, that would involve him sucking up some of his self-pity and actually DO something, like get out of bed. He gave up, and left the channel on whatever it had landed on. Of course, it was one of those movie channels that was focused on the romantic side of the holiday. He made a face and sighed, allowing himself to get sucked into T.V. lock.
Several hours later, he was digging for more tissues in the side table next to his bed thanks to the movies he had just watched, when his phone finally buzzed.
Miss u 2was the response that he’d received, and his heart sank a little. Bill didn’t know what he’d been expecting. Certainly not a novel-worthy response, since it was a text after all, but maybe a bit more than that short of a response.( Maybe a phone call or something?) He shook his head. It seemed here lately, that Gustav was short on time. Even when they connected via webcam or on a phone call, Gustav’s time was consumed by his family. They were always needing him for something, and cutting their time short. And if it wasn’t his family, then it was Bill’s end of the deal.
Tom had been forcing him to go out more lately, telling him that he wasn’t allowed to mope any longer, that it was depressing Tom himself, and he wasn’t having that. Bill made a face, remembering the very last time they had gone out. Tom had tried to get him to pick out a Christmas tree for their house and Bill just felt like a space cadet, and finally picked one because Tom was pressuring him. It hadn’t helped that Bill had stayed up late the night previous, talking for hours with Gustav. The twins had ended up with a tree that was less than spectacular, and bent to the left a bit. Bill didn’t even want to decorate the damn thing, but Tom had forced him into that activity too. Bill hadn’t wanted to, because this year, there wasn’t going to be a Gustav visiting him this year.
Bill sighed, clicking off his television with the remote. Gustav had informed him that they’d be apart from each other this Christmas. He was going to stay home and be with his family, since this year, the band wasn’t gearing up for anything like a tour, or press junkets, or an album release. Bill wasn’t about to protest, how could he? They spent half of their lives already devoted to their music, and missed out on lots of family things. And Bill knew his situation was unique, what with his twin always being around. Gustav didn’t have that luxury.
It had been six months, twelve days, eight hours, and two minutes.
*~*
At approximately six months, thirteen days, twelve hours and forty-seven minutes- by some shred of a miracle, Bill received a phone call. The time difference was staggering, literally night and day for the two of them, but it didn’t matter. Bill had been sleeping anyways, and Gustav was getting ready for bed. The both of them were mumbling to each other for nearly two hours, and Bill was wide awake at that point. He messed around for the covers when he heard a slight buzzing noise.
“Hello?” he spoke into the phone with uncertainty, “Are you there, Gustav?”
”Hmm?” came the sleepy reply.
“I heard some crazy noise, I thought I had lost you…” Bill wriggled under his covers.
”Yeah…” he heard his boyfriend yawn, ”I think…” he heard Gustav pull more air into his lungs, and while he yawned again, ”Think I’m falling asleep.”
Bill blinked, not sure what to think. He couldn’t blame Gustav for being tired, it seemed like he HAD been super busy with family that day, and even cooked everyone in his family a big dinner, “Yeah? Well, get some sleep, okay?” he said, gently. He heard the noise again, and realized it was Gustav’s snoring that he was hearing, “Gustav?” he nearly whispered, “I love you.” He listened again, hoping that Gustav would reciprocate the sentiment. No such luck. After a moment or two, Bill gave up and hung up his phone. He laid the phone next to him on the bed. It was radiating so much heat from the usage that it had just been through, and Bill gently nudged it away from his body. He wrapped the comforter tighter around him, tight enough to be considered confining.
It was now officially six months, fourteen days, one hour, and fifty-three minutes since they had last seen each other in person. Bill groaned into his cocoon.
*~*
Tom had let him wallow for the following two days. In fact, Bill was quite surprised that Tom had let him be. Usually, his twin would be in his face, nagging him to take part in the world around him. Bill supposed, though, he shouldn’t have been surprised when after those two days had passed, Tom threw the biggest tantrum in the universe.
By Bill’s estimation-it was now six months, sixteen days, ten hours, and thirteen minutes. And enough was enough. Bill had just barely entered part of his credit card information into the website, when Tom snatched the plastic out of his hand. It was so fast, that in Bill’s shock, he checked to make sure the card didn’t nick his fingers on the way out of his hand. Surely, plastic cuts were worse than paper cuts. Upon realizing that his hand was alright and no bandages were necessary, he aimed for snatching the card back that Tom held above his head, “WHAT THE HELL, TOM?!” Bill yelled, “GIVE IT BACK!”
“NO!” Tom roared, looking like he was ready to dash off if Bill was to take chase, “You ARE NOT going to enter that number there!” he pointed at the screen with his free hand, “You are NOT going to see him this Christmas!”
Bill made a face, “I’ll do whatever the FUCK I want to do!” he argued, getting out of his chair, “GIVE. ME. THE. CARD. TOM!”
“No! I’ll set the son of a bitch on FIRE before I’ll give this back to you! I’ll cut it UP! I SWEAR TO IT, BILL!” Tom threatened.
Bill sat back down, and sighed into his hands that he’d placed on his face, “Tom…” he whined, “I just want to see him!”
“No, Bill! You went to see him last time! Make him come see you! You’re going to stay here, with ME this Christmas!” Tom sighed.
“Fine.” Bill slammed his laptop shut, and got up, nearly knocking over everything on the table in the process, “Fuck you, Tom.” He muttered, stomping off to his bedroom. Once there, he kicked off his sweatpants and adjusted the waistband of his boxers, before throwing himself on his bed, “Make him come see you!” he mocked Tom’s voice. Bill rolled his eyes, “Doesn’t he know I TRIED?” he spoke to the ceiling.
He closed his eyes, stretching out on his bed, feeling for his covers, “Stupid Tom…” Bill grumbled. The only GOOD thing that Tom did, was save him the extra fees for a last minute ticket for Christmas Eve. Before getting some sleep, Bill looked at the clock.
It was only six months, sixteen days, ten hours and twenty-two minutes since he’d last seen his boyfriend. Bill wondered if perhaps he should point out how long it had actually been to his hard-headed jerk of a twin.
*~*
Since his twin had put his plans on hold, Bill sunk even further. He felt like a ghost in a shell of a body. He was sure he was just going through daily motions like a robot. Bill was certain it was to preserve his sanity. To make matters worse, absolutely nothing was on television. He glared at the screen, mashing the buttons on his remote control.
He nearly threw the remote when he had it figured out. THIS is what happens when it has been six months, twenty-one days, four hours, and twelve minutes since you had last seen the one you loved. You became a human void, going through motions to fool others into thinking that everything was okay. He was past the point of tears, he was past the point of the sinking feeling you get when you realize that they are so far away. Long-distance relationships were for the birds. It’s not like he was going anywhere. He and his twin had established a LIFE in the U.S. Gustav wasn’t moving, either. It was going nowhere. And he decided to call up Gustav and tell him all about it.
He reached for his cell phone, yanking it off the charger with a mission. Bill slammed through the lock screen, and highlighted Gustav’s name. The line rang a few times when he pressed it to his ear, and to his surprise, Gustav picked up.
”Hey…you called at the perfect time!” he chuckled, and Bill’s heart began to melt.
“Hi…” he said, shyly and caught off guard.
When he finally hung up, his cell phone was hot to the touch from use. He stretched, a small smile on his face. It was now six months, twenty-one days, seven hours, three minutes since he’d last seen Gustav. And Bill thought that maybe things might be okay for a bit longer.
~*~
At six months, twenty-three days, nine hours, and sixteen minutes was when he received a text from his boyfriend, informing him that he received his Christmas present.
”I got your package.” If he had been in a better mood, his mind would’ve immediately gone to the gutter. However, he had been dragged out into public by his twin brother. They were currently doing last minute shopping for their Mother. She had expressly wished for a crystal vase to go on her nice, new coffee table that she and their stepfather had bought. They were in the middle of an upscale department store, ogling all sorts of crystals.
Bill sent a text back, ”Did you like it?” and shoved his phone back into the front of his tight jeans pocket.
“Bill?” Tom asked, picking up an unusually large vase with a wide mouth, “Who’s that?” he nodded towards Bill’s hidden phone.
“Gustav…” Bill looked down.
“Ignore him. We’re here for Mom. Now, what do you think?” his brother asked, holding up the expensive crystal.
Before Bill could comment on whether or not his brother was being a dick, (he was) a woman with frizzy hair ran up to them, “Can I HELP you gentleman?!” she asked, practically ripping the vase out of Tom’s hand.
The twins exchanged a glance. This woman obviously felt like they were there to either steal, break the crystal, or simply to cause trouble. The twins had a surefire way to mess with her head. Tom began rattling off in German, rapid-spitfire German, to be exact. After a few moments of Tom speaking to her, the woman threw up her hands, “I give up, let me go get my manager!” and she temporarily wandered off.
That gave Bill a perfect excuse to check his phone. Of course, there was no answer. He sighed, and rolled his eyes, shoving the phone back where it had been. He looked at the vase that was once again in his brother’s hand. It sparkled in the weird department store lighting, and honestly, Tom had good taste. If their mother didn’t like it, she could just take it back. They could get a gift receipt. He nodded, “Let’s get that one.” He said, “I am ready to go home.”
“Okay.” Tom agreed, placing the display back on the shelf. He grabbed the box for the right vase, “Let’s get lunch!” he suggested, and Bill wanted to stomp his foot.
“T-oooom!” he whined, “I just want to go home!”
“Nope.” Tom replied, pinching his shirt, and leading him towards the register, “I am NOT letting you mope today.”
Bill frowned. He was NOT moping. After all, it had only been six months, twenty-three days, nine hours, and twenty-one minutes.
~*~
They had eventually paid for that vase that they had wanted, and Bill was still snickering at the lady with frizzy hair the next morning. She had a minor freak-out when both twins spoke perfect English to her at the register check-out. Bill checked his phone again, still waiting for Gustav’s reply back. At this point, he was wondering if maybe he hated the present that Bill had sent to him. Sure, it was a set of headphones and chopsticks, which was an inside joke between them. Tom had thought he was nuts sending Gustav such things. Bill had shrugged it off, besides, what do you get someone for Christmas who has everything they want?
Since it had been six months, twenty-four days and six hours exactly since he’d last seen Gustav and there had STILL BEEN NO REPLY, he decided to take matters into his own hands. He dialed Gustav’s number carefully, even if he knew it by heart. It rang one pathetic half-ring, and then went straight to voicemail. Bill stared at his phone in disbelief, “Really?” he wondered audibly.
“What?” Tom asked, scaring Bill out of his stupor.
Bill sighed, “Nothing. DON’T DO THAT!” he swatted at his brother.
“Do what?” Tom snickered.
“Scare me!” Bill frowned. Why didn’t his boyfriend answer the phone? Was it off? Did he forward his call? Bill glared at his phone. Why did it have to be like this?
“Earth to Bill!” Tom said, snapping his fingers mid-air.
“What?!” Bill stared at Tom.
“What are we doing today? It is Christmas Eve!” his brother pointed out, “I know you got me a good present, and I know that Santa got you coal because you’ve been naughty!” he laughed, teasingly.
“Fuck you, Tom.” Bill snapped, “I am NOT in the mood. I am going to go take a nap!” he said, stomping off, leaving a bewildered brother behind.
Bill didn’t have time for any of it, he realized when he crawled into bed, not even going after his remote. This was all bullshit; he had decided, and nothing was going to change his mind.
~*~
Bill was reaching for his alarm that was chiming, annoyingly loud and fast. It wasn’t until he came to terms with the fact that he didn’t OWN an alarm clock and that SOUND was still happening- it was the doorbell, of all things.
He frowned into his covers, “Tom…get it!” he groaned, hoping that his brother would telepathically hear and understand to answer the door, and maybe punch the person in the face that was blowing up their doorbell. After a few more rounds of the doorbell going off, Bill finally threw the covers off of himself. He rubbed at his eyes, and sat up, “TOM! TOM!!” he yelled, “GET THE DOOR!” he waited, hoping he’d hear his brother going after the door, but maybe he was stuck in their studio and couldn’t hear the thing going off.
He sighed, and looked at the time on his cell phone. It had been six months, twenty-four days, nine hours and fifty-nine minutes since he’d last seen Gustav. He looked at himself in his dresser mirror, noting he looked like hell, and toed on some slippers so he could make his way to the door. He yawned and scratched at his stomach as he headed towards their front door. The most annoying person was still banging at their doorbell, and he passed the living room, where his brother was flipping through the channels of their television, “REALLY, TOM?!” Bill yelled, “DO YOU NOT HEAR THE DOORBELL?”
His brother looked at Bill, and smirked, “You needed to get up.” He answered, turning back to the screen.
“Remind me to kick your ass later!” Bill yelled over the din of the bell. He got to the door, where his brood of dogs were turning circles and freaking out over the door, “Move over, Guys…” he toed at the littlest one, scooting her out of the way. He slid the chain out of the way, and moved onto the deadbolt, unlocking it with a “click.”
He threw open the door, and standing on his porch was his boyfriend, “Gustav…” Bill breathed, a goofy smile on his face, the dogs going to “attack” him.
Gustav stopped his project of blowing up the twins’ doorbell, and shoved his hands in his pockets with a goofy smile playing on his own face mirroring that of Bill’s, “Hey…” he said, adjusting his glasses, and ignoring the dogs at his feet.
The two of them reached out for each other at the same time, and began kissing each other with fervor, and somewhere behind him, Bill heard, “Get a room!” from his twin.
Bill chuckled into Gustav’s neck, and aimed to flip his brother off. Somehow he knew that his brother and lover had orchestrated this. It only took six months, twenty-four days, ten hours, and five minutes, approximately.
Author: ???
Pairing(s): Bill/Gustav
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own these folks. They are their own people.
Warnings: Angst, Language, (mild) adult content, and some fluff
Summary: When you're not with the one you love, it seems all you can do is count.
Recipient: Hexenhasel
Author's notes: I hope you have the merriest of Christmases, Hexenhasel. This one is all for you! I'd also like to thank thywillbedone for all her help in the darkest of hours.
It had been six months. Six months, twelve days, five hours, and eight and a half minutes since Bill had seen Gustav in person. (Not that he had been counting!) And IF Bill was going to be honest about the situation; the last time that they had seen each other was utter shit. Everyone in the band had to be puppets for the label, and only one time had he been able to sneak off with his boyfriend.
“Boyfriend…” Bill mumbled as he wandered towards his kitchen, “Funny word.” He finished, crossing into the kitchen area.
“What are you mumbling about?” his twin asked, looking up from his laptop that was sitting on top of the table in front of him. He appeared puzzled, looking at Bill as if he was either going to explode or maybe he was just insane because he was talking to himself.
“Boyfriend.” Bill replied, snatching Tom’s coffee off of the table in one swoop of his hand. He had gulped half of it down before Tom could protest that it was his coffee and not Bill’s. He made a face, “This is not sweet enough.”
Tom made an equally disgusted face, “Get your own coffee and then you can bitch whether it’s sweet enough for you. Now what about boyfriends?” he asked, snatching his mug back.
“It’s a funny word. I don’t think I should use it anymore.” Bill responded, slamming the cabinet that he’d managed to open while Tom had tried to scold him. He sat his own mug down on the counter, “It just doesn’t have enough MEANING.” He explained, while dosing the coffee with sugar.
Tom snorted, and Bill could hear him clacking at a few keys on his laptop, “So precious GUSTAV isn’t good enough for the word?” he sneered.
Bill inhaled through his nostrils sharply, “Stop it, Tom. You like Gustav.”
“Sure. I like Gustav, but not in regards to YOU.” Tom resumed clicking on whatever he was working on.
“It’s been YEARS!” Bill argued, tossing his spoon in the sink, “Don’t give me that!”
“Sure, sure.” Tom said, and the both of them made eye contact, “I like Gustav. He’s our drummer in our band. But when it comes to him being your boyfriend, “ Tom explained, letting Bill cringe at the word, “I don’t accept the fact that he upsets you.”
“UPSETS ME?!” Bill boomed, “He doesn’t UPSET ME!”
“Bullshit!” Tom argued, “You know it! All you get are texts, some phone calls, and an occasional Skype. Would it kill the guy to come visit you?”
Bill took a sip of his coffee, letting it linger in his mouth while he tried to formulate a response to his brother, “I get what you are saying. But, someone could easily say the same about me.”
Tom snorted again, and slammed down the lid on his laptop, “Right. The last TWO times you’ve seen him on your own terms without someone controlling the strings, it was YOU who went to see him, not the other way around.” He pointed out.
Bill clenched his jaw, and stared at his twin. He licked his lip, and decided that he was done with his coffee. It was time for him to go crawl back into bed. Sometimes, it was just easier to deal that way. He could vaguely make out that his brother was trying to still talk to him, but his mind had already shut down.
It had now been six months, twelve days, five hours, and sixteen minutes.
~*~
Before he’d decided to ignore his twin, Bill had crawled into bed and typed off a quick “I miss you” text to Gustav. He decided, rather than dwelling on how long it had been since he’d seen his love, to hole himself up in his bedroom and get sucked into a television void. Of course, being this close to Christmas, every channel known to man was devoted to the subject. Most of them focused on the happy, feel- good vibes associated with the holiday.
“Bah Humbug!” Bill grumbled, wanting to throw the remote at the T.V. screen. Of course, he could always watch a movie from the vast collection that he owned. Then again, that would involve him sucking up some of his self-pity and actually DO something, like get out of bed. He gave up, and left the channel on whatever it had landed on. Of course, it was one of those movie channels that was focused on the romantic side of the holiday. He made a face and sighed, allowing himself to get sucked into T.V. lock.
Several hours later, he was digging for more tissues in the side table next to his bed thanks to the movies he had just watched, when his phone finally buzzed.
Miss u 2was the response that he’d received, and his heart sank a little. Bill didn’t know what he’d been expecting. Certainly not a novel-worthy response, since it was a text after all, but maybe a bit more than that short of a response.( Maybe a phone call or something?) He shook his head. It seemed here lately, that Gustav was short on time. Even when they connected via webcam or on a phone call, Gustav’s time was consumed by his family. They were always needing him for something, and cutting their time short. And if it wasn’t his family, then it was Bill’s end of the deal.
Tom had been forcing him to go out more lately, telling him that he wasn’t allowed to mope any longer, that it was depressing Tom himself, and he wasn’t having that. Bill made a face, remembering the very last time they had gone out. Tom had tried to get him to pick out a Christmas tree for their house and Bill just felt like a space cadet, and finally picked one because Tom was pressuring him. It hadn’t helped that Bill had stayed up late the night previous, talking for hours with Gustav. The twins had ended up with a tree that was less than spectacular, and bent to the left a bit. Bill didn’t even want to decorate the damn thing, but Tom had forced him into that activity too. Bill hadn’t wanted to, because this year, there wasn’t going to be a Gustav visiting him this year.
Bill sighed, clicking off his television with the remote. Gustav had informed him that they’d be apart from each other this Christmas. He was going to stay home and be with his family, since this year, the band wasn’t gearing up for anything like a tour, or press junkets, or an album release. Bill wasn’t about to protest, how could he? They spent half of their lives already devoted to their music, and missed out on lots of family things. And Bill knew his situation was unique, what with his twin always being around. Gustav didn’t have that luxury.
It had been six months, twelve days, eight hours, and two minutes.
*~*
At approximately six months, thirteen days, twelve hours and forty-seven minutes- by some shred of a miracle, Bill received a phone call. The time difference was staggering, literally night and day for the two of them, but it didn’t matter. Bill had been sleeping anyways, and Gustav was getting ready for bed. The both of them were mumbling to each other for nearly two hours, and Bill was wide awake at that point. He messed around for the covers when he heard a slight buzzing noise.
“Hello?” he spoke into the phone with uncertainty, “Are you there, Gustav?”
”Hmm?” came the sleepy reply.
“I heard some crazy noise, I thought I had lost you…” Bill wriggled under his covers.
”Yeah…” he heard his boyfriend yawn, ”I think…” he heard Gustav pull more air into his lungs, and while he yawned again, ”Think I’m falling asleep.”
Bill blinked, not sure what to think. He couldn’t blame Gustav for being tired, it seemed like he HAD been super busy with family that day, and even cooked everyone in his family a big dinner, “Yeah? Well, get some sleep, okay?” he said, gently. He heard the noise again, and realized it was Gustav’s snoring that he was hearing, “Gustav?” he nearly whispered, “I love you.” He listened again, hoping that Gustav would reciprocate the sentiment. No such luck. After a moment or two, Bill gave up and hung up his phone. He laid the phone next to him on the bed. It was radiating so much heat from the usage that it had just been through, and Bill gently nudged it away from his body. He wrapped the comforter tighter around him, tight enough to be considered confining.
It was now officially six months, fourteen days, one hour, and fifty-three minutes since they had last seen each other in person. Bill groaned into his cocoon.
*~*
Tom had let him wallow for the following two days. In fact, Bill was quite surprised that Tom had let him be. Usually, his twin would be in his face, nagging him to take part in the world around him. Bill supposed, though, he shouldn’t have been surprised when after those two days had passed, Tom threw the biggest tantrum in the universe.
By Bill’s estimation-it was now six months, sixteen days, ten hours, and thirteen minutes. And enough was enough. Bill had just barely entered part of his credit card information into the website, when Tom snatched the plastic out of his hand. It was so fast, that in Bill’s shock, he checked to make sure the card didn’t nick his fingers on the way out of his hand. Surely, plastic cuts were worse than paper cuts. Upon realizing that his hand was alright and no bandages were necessary, he aimed for snatching the card back that Tom held above his head, “WHAT THE HELL, TOM?!” Bill yelled, “GIVE IT BACK!”
“NO!” Tom roared, looking like he was ready to dash off if Bill was to take chase, “You ARE NOT going to enter that number there!” he pointed at the screen with his free hand, “You are NOT going to see him this Christmas!”
Bill made a face, “I’ll do whatever the FUCK I want to do!” he argued, getting out of his chair, “GIVE. ME. THE. CARD. TOM!”
“No! I’ll set the son of a bitch on FIRE before I’ll give this back to you! I’ll cut it UP! I SWEAR TO IT, BILL!” Tom threatened.
Bill sat back down, and sighed into his hands that he’d placed on his face, “Tom…” he whined, “I just want to see him!”
“No, Bill! You went to see him last time! Make him come see you! You’re going to stay here, with ME this Christmas!” Tom sighed.
“Fine.” Bill slammed his laptop shut, and got up, nearly knocking over everything on the table in the process, “Fuck you, Tom.” He muttered, stomping off to his bedroom. Once there, he kicked off his sweatpants and adjusted the waistband of his boxers, before throwing himself on his bed, “Make him come see you!” he mocked Tom’s voice. Bill rolled his eyes, “Doesn’t he know I TRIED?” he spoke to the ceiling.
He closed his eyes, stretching out on his bed, feeling for his covers, “Stupid Tom…” Bill grumbled. The only GOOD thing that Tom did, was save him the extra fees for a last minute ticket for Christmas Eve. Before getting some sleep, Bill looked at the clock.
It was only six months, sixteen days, ten hours and twenty-two minutes since he’d last seen his boyfriend. Bill wondered if perhaps he should point out how long it had actually been to his hard-headed jerk of a twin.
*~*
Since his twin had put his plans on hold, Bill sunk even further. He felt like a ghost in a shell of a body. He was sure he was just going through daily motions like a robot. Bill was certain it was to preserve his sanity. To make matters worse, absolutely nothing was on television. He glared at the screen, mashing the buttons on his remote control.
He nearly threw the remote when he had it figured out. THIS is what happens when it has been six months, twenty-one days, four hours, and twelve minutes since you had last seen the one you loved. You became a human void, going through motions to fool others into thinking that everything was okay. He was past the point of tears, he was past the point of the sinking feeling you get when you realize that they are so far away. Long-distance relationships were for the birds. It’s not like he was going anywhere. He and his twin had established a LIFE in the U.S. Gustav wasn’t moving, either. It was going nowhere. And he decided to call up Gustav and tell him all about it.
He reached for his cell phone, yanking it off the charger with a mission. Bill slammed through the lock screen, and highlighted Gustav’s name. The line rang a few times when he pressed it to his ear, and to his surprise, Gustav picked up.
”Hey…you called at the perfect time!” he chuckled, and Bill’s heart began to melt.
“Hi…” he said, shyly and caught off guard.
When he finally hung up, his cell phone was hot to the touch from use. He stretched, a small smile on his face. It was now six months, twenty-one days, seven hours, three minutes since he’d last seen Gustav. And Bill thought that maybe things might be okay for a bit longer.
~*~
At six months, twenty-three days, nine hours, and sixteen minutes was when he received a text from his boyfriend, informing him that he received his Christmas present.
”I got your package.” If he had been in a better mood, his mind would’ve immediately gone to the gutter. However, he had been dragged out into public by his twin brother. They were currently doing last minute shopping for their Mother. She had expressly wished for a crystal vase to go on her nice, new coffee table that she and their stepfather had bought. They were in the middle of an upscale department store, ogling all sorts of crystals.
Bill sent a text back, ”Did you like it?” and shoved his phone back into the front of his tight jeans pocket.
“Bill?” Tom asked, picking up an unusually large vase with a wide mouth, “Who’s that?” he nodded towards Bill’s hidden phone.
“Gustav…” Bill looked down.
“Ignore him. We’re here for Mom. Now, what do you think?” his brother asked, holding up the expensive crystal.
Before Bill could comment on whether or not his brother was being a dick, (he was) a woman with frizzy hair ran up to them, “Can I HELP you gentleman?!” she asked, practically ripping the vase out of Tom’s hand.
The twins exchanged a glance. This woman obviously felt like they were there to either steal, break the crystal, or simply to cause trouble. The twins had a surefire way to mess with her head. Tom began rattling off in German, rapid-spitfire German, to be exact. After a few moments of Tom speaking to her, the woman threw up her hands, “I give up, let me go get my manager!” and she temporarily wandered off.
That gave Bill a perfect excuse to check his phone. Of course, there was no answer. He sighed, and rolled his eyes, shoving the phone back where it had been. He looked at the vase that was once again in his brother’s hand. It sparkled in the weird department store lighting, and honestly, Tom had good taste. If their mother didn’t like it, she could just take it back. They could get a gift receipt. He nodded, “Let’s get that one.” He said, “I am ready to go home.”
“Okay.” Tom agreed, placing the display back on the shelf. He grabbed the box for the right vase, “Let’s get lunch!” he suggested, and Bill wanted to stomp his foot.
“T-oooom!” he whined, “I just want to go home!”
“Nope.” Tom replied, pinching his shirt, and leading him towards the register, “I am NOT letting you mope today.”
Bill frowned. He was NOT moping. After all, it had only been six months, twenty-three days, nine hours, and twenty-one minutes.
~*~
They had eventually paid for that vase that they had wanted, and Bill was still snickering at the lady with frizzy hair the next morning. She had a minor freak-out when both twins spoke perfect English to her at the register check-out. Bill checked his phone again, still waiting for Gustav’s reply back. At this point, he was wondering if maybe he hated the present that Bill had sent to him. Sure, it was a set of headphones and chopsticks, which was an inside joke between them. Tom had thought he was nuts sending Gustav such things. Bill had shrugged it off, besides, what do you get someone for Christmas who has everything they want?
Since it had been six months, twenty-four days and six hours exactly since he’d last seen Gustav and there had STILL BEEN NO REPLY, he decided to take matters into his own hands. He dialed Gustav’s number carefully, even if he knew it by heart. It rang one pathetic half-ring, and then went straight to voicemail. Bill stared at his phone in disbelief, “Really?” he wondered audibly.
“What?” Tom asked, scaring Bill out of his stupor.
Bill sighed, “Nothing. DON’T DO THAT!” he swatted at his brother.
“Do what?” Tom snickered.
“Scare me!” Bill frowned. Why didn’t his boyfriend answer the phone? Was it off? Did he forward his call? Bill glared at his phone. Why did it have to be like this?
“Earth to Bill!” Tom said, snapping his fingers mid-air.
“What?!” Bill stared at Tom.
“What are we doing today? It is Christmas Eve!” his brother pointed out, “I know you got me a good present, and I know that Santa got you coal because you’ve been naughty!” he laughed, teasingly.
“Fuck you, Tom.” Bill snapped, “I am NOT in the mood. I am going to go take a nap!” he said, stomping off, leaving a bewildered brother behind.
Bill didn’t have time for any of it, he realized when he crawled into bed, not even going after his remote. This was all bullshit; he had decided, and nothing was going to change his mind.
~*~
Bill was reaching for his alarm that was chiming, annoyingly loud and fast. It wasn’t until he came to terms with the fact that he didn’t OWN an alarm clock and that SOUND was still happening- it was the doorbell, of all things.
He frowned into his covers, “Tom…get it!” he groaned, hoping that his brother would telepathically hear and understand to answer the door, and maybe punch the person in the face that was blowing up their doorbell. After a few more rounds of the doorbell going off, Bill finally threw the covers off of himself. He rubbed at his eyes, and sat up, “TOM! TOM!!” he yelled, “GET THE DOOR!” he waited, hoping he’d hear his brother going after the door, but maybe he was stuck in their studio and couldn’t hear the thing going off.
He sighed, and looked at the time on his cell phone. It had been six months, twenty-four days, nine hours and fifty-nine minutes since he’d last seen Gustav. He looked at himself in his dresser mirror, noting he looked like hell, and toed on some slippers so he could make his way to the door. He yawned and scratched at his stomach as he headed towards their front door. The most annoying person was still banging at their doorbell, and he passed the living room, where his brother was flipping through the channels of their television, “REALLY, TOM?!” Bill yelled, “DO YOU NOT HEAR THE DOORBELL?”
His brother looked at Bill, and smirked, “You needed to get up.” He answered, turning back to the screen.
“Remind me to kick your ass later!” Bill yelled over the din of the bell. He got to the door, where his brood of dogs were turning circles and freaking out over the door, “Move over, Guys…” he toed at the littlest one, scooting her out of the way. He slid the chain out of the way, and moved onto the deadbolt, unlocking it with a “click.”
He threw open the door, and standing on his porch was his boyfriend, “Gustav…” Bill breathed, a goofy smile on his face, the dogs going to “attack” him.
Gustav stopped his project of blowing up the twins’ doorbell, and shoved his hands in his pockets with a goofy smile playing on his own face mirroring that of Bill’s, “Hey…” he said, adjusting his glasses, and ignoring the dogs at his feet.
The two of them reached out for each other at the same time, and began kissing each other with fervor, and somewhere behind him, Bill heard, “Get a room!” from his twin.
Bill chuckled into Gustav’s neck, and aimed to flip his brother off. Somehow he knew that his brother and lover had orchestrated this. It only took six months, twenty-four days, ten hours, and five minutes, approximately.