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William took a deep breath in an attempt to get himself to settle down. He knew the slight tension he felt was from the natural environment of tour, of being around people constantly. He didn’t like to complain; getting to tour like this was awesome, but - at times - exhausting. Let alone being on stage, just the general bustle of tour and continuous activity meant that for someone like William, who really needed time to himself to recharge, after a post-show meet-and-greet he simply didn’t have it in him to party. Not most nights, anyway, and not tonight.
Heading to the back room of the tour bus William shrugged off his jacket shoved it into his bunk on the way past. Rubbing his hand across his face, it was only when he blinked his eyes open, stepping through the doorway to the back room, that a jolt of panic flashed through William on the moment of realisation that he was not alone. That there was someone sat on the sofa seat in front of him.
William’s throat clenched in sudden fear as his mind screamed at him to run back out the way he came, back to the safety of the crowds of people which now comparatively seemed so much more appealing.
With the back room mainly dark aside from the very limited amount of light entering the space from a small window, William quickly reached his hand along the wall beside him in search of the light switch, fingers fumbling uselessly in panic.
It was only when the person spoke a second or two later that William’s body relaxed in the immediate knowledge of safety, the reaction ingrained in William’s very being, still; a remnant from times long gone since. So far away now and yet - apparently, William thought to himself - somehow still so close.
“You are alive, then?” It was Gabe’s voice, colored with the all-too-familiar tone of ‘tolerating William but making it quite clear this is under duress’, mixed with a hint of trademark Saporta sass.
William blinked again. “What?”
“I texted you. And called. A few times, actually,” Gabe said. His voice was that specific shade too nonchalant. “I’d ask if your phone was working, but your instagram app is working just fine, so -”
The comment was so to-the-point that William didn’t even think to formulate his reply, and didn’t think to try and control it. And then, William was never too great at controlling himself where Gabe was concerned anyway.
“You’re here because of that picture?” William scoffed outwardly at the exact same time that his heart gave a leap of… for a split second William considered exactly what it was he felt. Triumph? the voice in the back of his head asked. An even quieter voice then offered up, Hope?
“I’m here because I wanted to check you were OK,” Gabe bit back. After years of practice, his facade was was pretty well put together, but it lasted only a moment before Gabe found himself adding, “...because of the picture. Then the not replying or picking up the phone thing… Thanks, by the way. You know how I get bored without something to obsess over.” The corner of Gabe’s mouth curved into a smirk, prompting William’s own mouth to twitch automatically in response. The smirk dropped, then, along with the tone of Gabe’s voice. “The fuck, Bill?”
William wanted to brush it all off, the way he could with fans, friends, interviewers, or basically anyone else in the world except Gabe. He wanted to say he wore the damn jumper all the time, he just didn’t usually take selfies with it. He wanted to say it didn’t mean anything. And stood in front of anyone else, William could have. But this wasn’t ‘anyone’. Nowhere close. It was Gabe.
“I… I-I don’t…” Throat dry, William swallowed. Or maybe his subconscious was just stalling for time. He tried to put the words together in his head but he found himself wrestling again with his own thoughts, scrabbling to scrutinise the things he wanted to say and compare them to those things he and Gabe Just Did Not Say, because they couldn’t.
None of it passed the test. It was all the same damn things William desperately wanted to say every time he saw Gabe, every time he scrolled past his name on his phone.
It’s not fair…
I still…
Why can’t we…
But William had no right to say those things anymore. Gabe had let him choose, years ago now, and William had chosen. Chosen the years of trying to forget, always pretending.
It wasn’t without good reason, sure. But it didn’t make pretending any easier, or the look in Gabe’s eyes just then any less painful.
Truth, William thought to himself, and he just spoke. “I don’t know why. It was dumb. But I know what happened. I guess… Well, I guess I saw the cover of that stupid wedding magazine and it made me think of,” William paused for a second as something in his chest clenched tightly. Fear and anticipation. “Of you. And…” Us, William thought. “And I guess I dug out the sweater.”
Gabe didn’t say anything for about a minute. His eyes were fixed just slightly to the side of William, just off-focus. William could almost see the thoughts and memories behind Gabe’s expression, and for a moment he regretted the whole ‘honesty’ thing. The truth hurts, and all that.
Then Gabe’s gaze came back to focus on William’s own, seeming somehow sharp.
“And this ‘let’s fuck with Gabe by ignoring him and shit’ thing? Did I do something to you?”
William wrestled with the words, but even he knew it was nowhere near as long or as hard as he should have fought, considering the potential fall out.
“You got married!” Although he’d said the words pretty loudly, probably too loudly, the subsequent silence was much, much louder.
Twenty seconds. William counted, then -
“Wow,” Gabe said quietly. One syllable, yet it sounded impossibly full of sadness and any number of other emotions William couldn’t grasp hold of in the wake of his own impending emotional breakdown. Regretted flooded William’s entire being.
All because he had to post that photo. Had to get a reaction. Well, Beckett, William thought. You got it.
Gabe stood up, one fluid motion that brought them eye to eye. Barely inches of space between them, not enough and too much all at once.
The lack of light didn’t matter as much at this proximity. William could see Gabe better now, take in the ever so slight physical changes in Gabe’s features brought by the inevitable passing of time, and take in all the things that hadn’t changed. Like the way Gabe looked at him. Like the way it made William feel.
“I still didn’t get an answer,” Gabe said, just a shade louder than a whisper. “Are you OK?”
William was so tired of pretending. He shook his head. “No.” His tone mirrored Gabe’s.
Gabe reached up, cupping his hand at the back of William’s neck. His thumb moved up and down across William’s skin in gentle, repetitive motions that made a shiver run up William’s spine right to where Gabe was touching him.
William felt tied, almost trapped, in the moment. Like a puppet tangled in its own strings, and weren’t they both? Tangled in past action and consequence, and all the emotions that came with it. Tangled in each other.
The image surfaced in William’s mind without intention. Two hearts tied together by trailing heart strings. It was an odd, rather uncomfortable image.
Gabe sighed, at the same time leaning forward until his forehead was pressed against William’s, his eyes closed.
And William knew. Gabe was giving him the opportunity to act. Giving him the choice, just as he always had.
Gabe would cheat on his wife for him. Gabe would follow William straight into hell itself if given half a chance. There was nothing Gabe wouldn’t do for him, William knew.
William had always known.
The seconds dragged as William’s thoughts did the same dance they did almost every day; want and need and shouldn’t and can’t.
William took a deep breath and lifted his right hand to touch Gabe’s face, his thumb resting at Gabe’s cheekbone. William didn’t let himself think of how much it felt like home. He leaned back slightly and tilted his head up a little, raising himself up on his toes just enough to allow him to press his lips to Gabe’s forehead.
William allowed himself one breath in and out; four seconds; one more bittersweet memory to add to the collection.
He stepped back, putting that distance back between them. Gabe’s hand dropped to his side. He looked like William felt. Lost.
“Thanks for coming,” William told Gabe, but it meant ‘Leave. Please.’ “For checking up on me.”
William forced a smile. Gabe didn’t. “I don’t want to go knowing you’re not OK.” Behind the words, William heard ‘Tell me to stay’.
William pictured himself pulling a Puppet William’s strings as he kept the smile in place. “I’m OK.”
Ten seconds of Gabe’s eyes on his. William counted. Then with nothing more than a nod and a barely-there attempt at a smile, Gabe walked past him and was gone.