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It’s not that Bill actively chose to fall in love with Gabe.
God, no, that was never his intention. He hadn’t intended to fall in love with Tom, either, but that was safe. Tom knew, had known from the start, and while he’d never return Bill’s feelings he also wouldn’t turn him away. Tom was his friend, and Bill knew his limits, so they could step around the tiny black elephant in the room without it being a big deal. Tom respected him, respected his Mark, and let it give him the obligation to stay in The Academy Is… even after he’d realized he didn’t want to anymore. He stayed for Bill, and in return Bill was devoted and maybe he gave more than he would have otherwise, let Tom push TAI’s sound just a little bit in a direction he wanted rather than what the rest of them wanted.
It had gotten to the point that Bill had promised himself he wasn’t going to fall in love again for a good long time, because he was miserable. But it was working.
He should have known that nothing works for very long, because he’s best friends with Gabe Saporta and Gabe gets under his skin. It had hardly been a surprise when he’d passed the bathroom mirror to take a shitty shower in a shitty tour bus bathroom and caught a glimpse of a Mark on his shoulder. He’d stopped without a double take – just closed his eyes, breathed deeply, then made sure the door was shut behind him before he leaned in and maneuvered his shoulders so he could see down the slope of his back in the mirror.
The Mark he’d gotten when he’d fallen in love with Tom was on his ankle, and everyone knew that. The label wasn’t good at secrets; they’d all known, and kept quiet out of respect.
This is on the back of his right shoulder, tiny and perfect, identical to the Mark on his ankle, except that it wasn’t Tom’s. Bill had known immediately who the Mark was for.
He’d thought that Tom would be relieved, that maybe they could fix the strain in their friendship and fix the music in return, fix the fighting and disagreements.
Obviously, that hasn’t worked out. There’s mixed statements – that Tom left, that they kicked him out, that they just “went in different directions.” The list goes on and on, but William Beckett is down a friend and guitarist, has another Mark that’s going to bring him nothing but pain, and he feels like shit.
***
Chislett is a godsend, and after they’ve finished recording their new album, Bill announces that he’s taking a weeklong break, and flies out to Las Vegas.
He has a lot of good friends, but the Fall Out Boy members are all trying to deal with the new album release and Gabe is the source of his issues. His own band is driving him crazy, everything a reminder of the shitstorm that went down with Tom, and he needs a chance to get away from that.
Brendon Urie is funny, unlikely to pry, and they had become fast friends during TAI’s early 2006 tour. Vegas is the perfect choice for his getaway.
When he arrives, he gets hugs from Brendon and Ryan and a cold look from Spencer, but he’s not going to get into that. He stays out of it, even though Spencer stares at Brendon constantly, and Bill always gets a glare after Spencer sees them lounging around on top of each other. It makes sense, and when Brendon confesses that he’s in love with Spencer, he doesn’t say anything because he has faith they’ll get it together. He lets himself act sympathetic, lets Brendon comfort him on his losses, and when he leaves, he gives Brendon a goodbye kiss before he boards his plane because Brendon had been a good source of fresh air. He’d given Bill the opportunity to tell someone his secret, and hadn’t freaked out or accused him of anything.
He felt better, if only just a little bit, upon leaving.
***
Gabe is waiting for him once he gets back to Chicago.
“Billiam,” he greets cheerfully from Bill’s couch. Bill has his hair in a bun on the crown of his head. He’s vaguely sweaty and greasy and gross from the plane, and he has a huge duffle bag in his hand. He’s tired and grumpy and suddenly his mood’s improvement from his Vegas break is ruined. He drops the bag in the doorway, takes off his shoes and his coat, and lets himself have a little bit of comfort by throwing himself on the couch and burying his head in Gabe’s lap.
Almost immediately, Gabe starts petting his hair. “I thought vacations were supposed to be relaxing?” he asks as he works on pulling Bill’s hair tie out so he can run his hands through Bill’s curls.
“It was,” he says, muffled by Gabe’s leg, but he’s sulking now and doesn’t want to elaborate. Gabe doesn’t make him. “Did you know when I was getting back or have you been here all week?”
“I’ve been here the better part of the week, yeah,” Gabe tells him, humming to himself as he combs. “You might want to go grocery shopping.”
“I hate you.”
He gets a soft, throaty chuckle in return, and it almost sends a shiver down his spine. Bill hadn’t been worried about his attraction to Gabe before, but now that he has Mark, it somehow feels worse. He could want Gabe’s body but not his heart. Now he wants both, and it makes wanting the one harder. “No you don’t,” Gabe says after a moment, and contorts just enough to press a kiss to Bill’s temple. Bill suddenly wishes he’d shoved his face into Gabe’s crotch, just so he couldn’t lean over that far and make Bill’s big love problem worse.
“Why are you here?” he asks, instead of begging him for another kiss. He shifts so he can look away from the TV – Gabe’s watching Spanish soap operas, probably just because it’s the first thing he found in Spanish – up at Gabe.
Gabe is watching him when Bill looks up at him, and his eyebrows are raised. “Why the fuck wouldn’t I be?” he asks, and Bill sighs. “You’ve been down for months. And I get it, and I totally didn’t bother you a lot, because Cobra was on tour with 30 Seconds, but dude. You should have known the second I got back and you stopped bullshitting me with your excuses I’d come by.”
He sighs, looking away and pressing his cheek back into Gabe’s lap, facing back toward the TV.
“You can’t sulk forever, Guillermo,” Gabe sighs, and starts petting his hair again. “I didn’t get to see you for Christmas, and you’ve been avoiding me since you finished recording Santi.”
“Sorry,” Bill murmurs, bringing a hand up to clutch at Gabe’s knee. He’s really too big to stay curled up like this on the couch for long – long limbs and a lithe frame make it hard for him to fit anywhere, really, and Gabe isn’t exactly small himself. He sits up finally, but doesn’t move too far away.
Gabe wraps an arm around his shoulder, and they watch TV together in peace.
***
Gabe’s been staying with him for a week by the time he cracks.
“Are you ever going to go home?” he asks plaintively, and Gabe takes one look at his pitiful expression and chuckles. He’s sprawled on the couch, as he always is lately, and opens his arms for Bill to lounge on top of him. Bill makes a face, but sighs and situates himself on the couch anyway, the long line of his body more or less covering Gabe’s with his head tucked neatly under his friend’s jaw. “That’s a no, I guess?”
“Yeah,” Gabe answers, wrapping Bill up in one hand and texting with the other. Bill dozes.
***
“You and Gabe have been hanging out a lot!”
The fan he’s signing a napkin for in a McDonald’s looks really happy about that, and he smiles at her. “We’re best friends forever,” he says in a drawls. She gives him a giggle that she blushes for a second later, and he softens a bit. “Between you and me,” he adds in a mock whisper. “He’s a terrible person, but I’ve been Stockholm Syndrome’d into this friendship.” He winks at her and she laughs genuinely.
“Say hi to Gabe for us!” her friend chimes in when their order is set on the counter, and they both wave as they head out the door.
“You famous or something?” the kid behind the register asks, unimpressed, and Bill blushes. He doesn’t respond, and when his own order is set on the counter, he books it out of there with his and Gabe’s lunches.
***
Brendon and Spencer get their shit together.
Apparently, they’ve been together for weeks now, but they’re finally telling non-bandmates. Bill thinks that he should have been told first, after Ryan, but he’s still happy for them.
“I totally would have told you first,” Brendon swears over the phone. “I totally would have. But Spencer’s still a little grumpy and he said we should at least tell Jon before we start sharing with other people on the label. And he totally had a point…”
Bill laughs as he works on cooking spaghetti for dinner. He’s actually making something himself tonight, mostly because Gabe has something Cobra-related to do for the next week and is planning to return to his own apartment. Bill has no doubts he’ll come back after all the business stuff is dealt with, but Bill’s not going to send him off without a decent meal. He knows Gabe – that motherfucker will try and live off Hot Pockets if Bill lets him.
“Did he make his point with his dick?” Bill asks, and then giggles to himself at Brendon’s resulting sputtering over the line. “So he did.”
“Shuttup,” Brendon mutters, but Bill’s still laughing and really doesn’t care how embarrassed he is.
“Nah,” he says cheerfully. “And for the record, I’m glad things are working out for you guys. You deserve the whole newlywed bliss thing.”
Brendon thanks him, his smile audible, then adds, “By the way, how are things with your… situation? Apparently fans have seen you and Gabe out a lot lately. There’ve been some pap pictures, too.”
Bill’s expression goes from grin to pout in two seconds flat. “I haven’t told him, if that’s what you’re asking,” he snaps, and sighs when Brendon makes a wounded puppy noise on the other end. “I just… I don’t want to say anything and fuck things up. He’d practically living in my apartment; that’s good enough.”
“He probably likes you, too.”
“Like and love are different things,” Bill mutters.
“Ooh, is somebody in like?” Bill jumps a foot in the air at the sound of Gabe’s voice, delighted and smarmy and interested. Damn it.
“Nobody is in like, Gabriel,” he huffs, and promptly hangs up the phone when he realizes Brendon’s very loud laughter is totally audible. “I was just talking to Brendon.”
“So is Brendon in like?” Gabe asks, eager, with those bright eyes Bill can’t resist.
“He’s in love,” Bill answers, faux exasperated, because using Brendon’s love affair as a cover up is the best plan he’s got right now. “He and Spencer are practically honeymooning.”
“That’s adorable,” Gabe coos, and Bill chuckles a little bit at the exaggerated adoring look on his face.
He finishes dinner with no help from Gabe and surprisingly low frustration levels, and serves it in plastic bowls with cheap silverware. They watch shitty TV and if Bill sits a little closer than necessary, that’s his secret. The couch dips a little in the middle. Of course he ends up pressed against Gabe’s side.
“We should fuck,” Gabe announces halfway through dinner, and Bill chokes on a meatball. It would have been funny if he hadn't been so startled.
“How did you get from zero to sixty so fast,” Bill demands, but Gabe’s not laughing at him like he usually would be. His head is cocked to the side, turned just enough to meet Bill’s eyes. They’re so close – just far enough apart that their eyes don’t cross meeting each other’s gazes.
“We should fuck,” Gabe repeats. “You’re hot, and I’m hot, and I’m horny, and we’re perfect together, so we should just fuck already.”
Bill doesn’t know how to respond. There’s a reason he hasn’t suggested a fuck buddy thing before now – their friendship is important, and even before he got his second Mark, he didn’t want to mess that up. But if Gabe’s offering, how does he turn that down without messing things up anyway? Especially with the earnest look in Gabe’s eyes.
“You really think that’d be a good idea?” he asks weakly, and Gabe just nods. “So. Um. How would you wanna do that?”
Gabe finally smiles, and it’s almost predatory. He looks so pleased, and Bill shivers and shifts a little under the intensity of his gaze. “Well,” he hums, taking Bill’s plate and setting it on top of the coffee table, on top of Gabe’s own plate. “I’d start by brushing your hair back, probably. It’s so pretty, Bill; how could I not want to play with it a little?” He does just that, and Bill closes his eyes, biting down on his lower lip. “Plus,” Gabe continues, close to his ear. He’s pressed against Bill’s side, warm and inviting. A hand is still brushing through his hair, root to tip, over and over again. “I know how fucking turned on someone playing with your hair gets you,” he finishes, and punctuates his words with a quick yank on Bill’s hair. It tips his head back, exposing the line of his throat, and he gasps softly when Gabe kisses his neck.
“You’ve been thinking about this for a while, huh?” he asks breathlessly, and Gabe chuckles against his neck before biting down lightly.
“You could say that.” He pulls back, just enough for Bill to position his head with a finger to the jaw and kiss him soundly. Gabe hums happily into the kiss.
“We’re actually doing this?” Bill murmurs in between kisses, just double checking, even though his leg is already sliding over Gabe’s legs so he can situate himself in Gabe’s lap. His hands squeeze Gabe’s shoulders before sliding to lock behind his neck.
“Oh, we’re fucking doing this,” Gabe says in a low voice. It’s a promise Bill is honestly happy to let him keep. “Bedroom?”
“Think you can carry me?” It’s a stupid challenge, because Gabe is more muscular than he looks and Bill’s a skinny fuck, but Gabe just growls and grips his thighs before standing. Bill wraps his legs tightly around Gabe’s waist and bites at the curve of his neck.
Gabe walks fast and deposits him on the bed, letting him bounce while he pulls his t-shirt off. God, Bill’s all over the idea of touching him, but he lies there, dark eyes and greedy hands waiting impatiently for Gabe to join them on the bed.
“You’re gorgeous,” Gabe murmurs, locking eyes with him as he crawls onto the bed. “You can’t imagine the things I want to do to you.”
Bill can, though he can’t quite imagine where this is coming from. Gabe’s always been flirty, but this - this is intent. “What next, then?” Bill asks, forcing his hands to stay down. There will be time for touching Gabe later. And god, is he looking forward to it. He forces himself not to think about how this is going to fucking hurt his bruised little heart.
Gabe smiles at him, and it’s less sex-monster and more gentle friend. He looks so fond it seems at odds with his words when he says, “I think you should get naked, Billiam.” Bill shivers when Gabe goes for his belt, but does nothing more than watch and lift his hips to help as he unbuckles it and pulls Bill’s jeans down. He’s not wearing underwear, and he wants to blush at the look on Gabe’s face when he realizes, but he can’t. he’s not embarrassed; he’s turned on. He’s wanted Gabe for a long fucking time, and now he has him.
When his jeans are all the way off, Bill pulls his own shirt off in response.
“Get on your hands and knees, yeah?” Gabe suggests, pressing a kiss to Bill’s hip before backing up and patting at his thigh to encourage him to move. He huffs lightly but does as he’s told, bowing his head and waiting for Gabe to make a move.
In retrospect, he should probably expect the light nip Gabe leaves on his ass, and the fingers spreading his cheeks apart. He still flushes and buries his head in his hands so he doesn’t have to actively pay attention to the thumb ghosting over his hole.
“Holy fuck,” he groans when the thumb becomes a tongue, and he gets a throaty chuckle against his ass instead. “Gabe -”
He gives up on real words in favor of breathy moans. Gabe’s hands squeezing his ass, the tongue flicking over his hole before lightly pressing inside - it’s too much for verbalizing his thoughts. He should have known that Gabe would be good in bed. He really should have seen that coming. It doesn’t occur to him until Gabe’s crawled up, toward his nightstand, that doing this is going to give Gabe the opportunity to see his Mark. It almost makes him freeze up, but Gabe just opens the drawer of his nightstand and pulls out the lube there before returning to his ass.
“I’ve always thought you were so damn pretty,” Gabe tells him conversationally, even as he’s popping the lid on the lube and squirting some onto his fingers. It’s a miracle he doesn’t get it over the bed spread. Bill’s watching from over his shoulder now because it’s too nice to miss, and Gabe meets his eyes when he reaches back with his right hand. He smooths it over his lower back, leaving behind a smear of lube, but Bill forgets to complain when one long finger presses into the tight ring of muscle. It’s been a long time since Bill’s been fucked.
It's good. Gabe has long fingers and they're clever to boot. He massages the ring of muscle around his index with his thumb and licks at them both, just enough that Bill can feel the swipe of wetness against his skin. He aches for this, pushes back into it, and tries to forget how much he loves Gabe. How much this is going to mess with him when it's over and Gabe still isn't his.
But Bill is good at unrequited love. He's done it before, he'll do it again, and he's okay with that. He's prepared. He's okay.
Gabe distracts him with a second finger, with a scrape against his prostate, and Bill groans out loud. It makes Gabe chuckle, bite at his hip with his sweet-talking mouth, and Bill's so hard. He's so fucking hard.
"How long has it been since someone's fucked you, Guillermo?" Gabe asks conversationally, and Bill wants to hate how the sound of his voice makes a zing of arousal go up his spine. He shivers. He can't remember. It's been a long while, and the guy he'd been with had only been a distraction. Bill can't remember his face.
"Shut the fuck up," he grunts, and Gabe just chuckles at him.
"You're so hot when you're bitchy," he laughs softly, pressing a third finger in with the other two.
"You're hot when you're silent," Bill starts, and ends with a yelp when Gabe's fingers press against his prostate. "You're an asshole," he whines softly, and bites into his own arm to stay silent, shoulders down against the comforter, ass high in the air. He's lucky he's so bendy.
"You're never going to forget this," Gabe tells him softly, work in a third finger, and no. Bill isn’t. “You’re going to feel me inside you for ages, Bill. And you’re gonna think about it, about me, even when I’m not there.”
It’s cruel, that Gabe is doing this now. He’s leaving tomorrow, for god knows how long, and Bill will have to go back to missing him. He would have done that anyway, but now, he’ll know how it feels to have Gabe pressed up against him, how it feels to be close to Gabe, skin to skin. God, there will be so much more to miss and it kills him. Gabe isn’t even gone, and he’s killing Bill.
“Would you fuck me already?” he manages, but it’s not as sharp as he intends it to be. “Get on with it.”
“Three fingers enough?” Gabe asks, eyebrows raised, and it’s been a while but Bill knows what he can take.
He leans up, so he can twist and grip Gabe’s chin. He presses a bruising kiss to Gabe’s lips. “Fuck me, you asshole.”
Gabe nods, the oddest smile quirking his lips upwards, and presses between Bill’s shoulder blades until he’s down on all fours again. There’s a long, suspenseful moment where all Bill has is the sound of the lube bottle cap opening again, a slight squishing sound, and then -
This is what he’s wanted, what he’s been missing. Gabe goes slow, working in an inch or so and thrusting lightly, pulling out just to push back in. He makes this soft, awed sound, and Bill shudders, angling his hips slightly and pushing back, encouraging Gabe to go faster.
“You won’t break me,” Bill mutters, but Gabe just leans forward, still only half-in, and presses a kiss to his spine.
“Maybe I’m taking my sweet-ass time for myself,” Gabe murmurs, and Bill melts a little, his fight going out of him. He’s done putting up a wall, done bitching. He reaches back with one hand, still propping himself up with the other, and grips Gabe’s hip. Gabe thrusts a little deeper in response, and Bill smooths his hand down Gabe’s thigh a bit and back up. He just wants to touch him, to be touched by him.
By the time Gabe’s actually fucking him in earnest, Bill’s a shuddering, groaning mess. His face is red, his cock is literally dripping onto his comforter, and there’s a bone-deep ache that only makes him want more. “Gabe,” he moans lowly on a shallow thrust that just barely brushes his prostate. Sweat is dripping down his forehead, Gabe’s hands rubbing up his slick back.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Gabe growls, and leans over again, presses his body against Bill, hips rolling rather than thrusting. The change isn’t unwelcome - it’s different, but good, leaving Gabe’s cock pressed into him at the perfect angle.
Gabe presses kisses to his spine, up and down, and then finally, leaves one final kiss over the Mark on his shoulder.
Gabe doesn’t say anything about it when Bill chokes on a cry and comes.
***
Gabe leaves the next morning, waking Bill up with kisses all over his face and one final press of lips against his still-slack mouth before he withdraws from the bed.
Bill rolls just slightly, onto his side, so he can watch Gabe get dressed. There’s a subtle pain, but it’s a good hurt that he relishes rather than ignores. “Last night was good,” he says, voice a little raspy with sleep. Gabe flashes him a quick grin, finishing with his belt, and comes back to the bed to kiss him again like he can’t get enough.
“I’ll be back once the boring business shit is dealt with,” he promises, and his grin is entirely mischievous. Bill can’t help the wide grin on his face, and chooses to ignore his heart’s wild beating when Gabe smiles wider in response.
***
Bill knows that Gabe must have seen his second Mark at some point and come up with the sex-plan as a way to comfort him. Gabe probably hasn’t even considering the idea of the Mark being for him, but that’s okay. Bill’s got something more than nothing, and that’s good.
***
Gabe does come back after a week and a half, and Bill rides him on the couch. It’s better than the first time.
***
After that, the sex is a regular thing. Gabe is at Bill’s more often than not and sleeps in his bed. Bill wakes up warm, usually to kisses over his shoulder, and Gabe never brings up his second Mark, even though his kisses usually wander to it.
And it’s good.
He’s happier than he’s been in a long time, and soon enough Santi is released and they’re on the Honda Civic Tour with Fall Out Boy, Cobra, and a couple other bands. Bill had forgotten how good it was, touring with Gabe. They’re in the habit of spending all their time together, and it’s nice that they don’t have to change that routine. They’ll sleep over on each other’s busses most nights and come out to make appearances during each other’s sets.
They make an appearance at some red carpet event, mostly because Pete demanded they all go, and Gabe had demanded to hold Bill’s hand on the way inside the event.
“He’s just paranoid someone’ll steal his best friend away,” Bill tells one nosy reporter with a grin, and Gabe laughs quietly but doesn’t say anything. He just squeezes Bill’s hand and drags him away, to another reporter demanding to know if they’re together. It’s not like they’re that famous – enough to get recognized, sure, but not enough for anyone to really care. Until, apparently, they might be gay.
***
Gabe spends most of the Sleeping With Giants tour mentioning Bill wherever he goes – at shows, in interviews, to fans. It doesn’t make up for the separation, and Bill finds it hard to sleep alone. He finds it hard to eat. He misses Gabe more than he should miss a fuck buddy, and he spends more time than he should wondering if Gabe will figure it out just based on the number of texts Bill sends him.
¡Viva La Cobra! drops and Cobra Starship joins their tour. Bill finds it hard not to accost Gabe the moment he sees him, but instead manages to pull him away to the closest bathroom. Gabe’s kisses are just as eager, and it makes Bill feel a little better to know that Gabe missed him, too.
When they emerge, Adam is standing there with a smug grin, like he knows something he doesn’t think Bill wants him to know. “I know Viva is awesome and all that, but I didn’t think it’s release was that good,” he teases, and Bill turns red. Gabe just snorts and wraps an arm around Bill’s waist.
“My friend, you have no idea how good Viva can be,” Gabe says with the smarmiest eyebrow wiggle Bill’s ever witnessed. He has to put aside his embarrassment to laugh, and shoves away from Gabe. “Aw, babe!”
Gabe chases him toward the busses, laughing all the way.
***
“So, you and Gabe Saporta?” an interviewer is asking, pointing toward Bill with her pen. “When did that happen?”
Bill sits up straighter, ignoring Chislett and Sisky’s aborted laughter, blushing. “I – what do you mean? We’ve been friends for ages,” he protests, feigning ignorance.
The interviewer giggles a little. “Well, there are so many photos – Gabe kisses you in front of cameras and holds your hands at events. It looks to us like he’s trying to make a statement. Aren’t you two together?”
Bill is going to kill Gabe, and pretends that he doesn’t wish they were. “Gabe is just ridiculous,” he says, with faux casualness. “He’ll kiss anything that moves. He’s kissed Pete, too, but no one asks if they’re dating.” He rolls his eyes, but ensures that it comes off as friendly. He’s just having a bit of banter.
The interviewer drops it, but Bill thinks about it for a long time.
***
It’s not until Pete posts a photo on his Livejournal of Gabe kissing Bill’s sleeping cheek, his eyes closed, eyelashes brushing his tanned cheeks, that Bill finally has to say something. There’s just something about the photo – they could both be asleep, with their eyes closed, Gabe’s expression so content. It aches a little to see. He hadn’t known Gabe had taken it, though he must have, because Pete’s commentary is long and winding about how Gabe had sent it to him to prove that they were the cutest couple.
“This isn’t funny anymore,” Bill tells him when Gabe comes back from signing after a show. He’s alone on the TAI bus, everyone else out at a party, and Gabe looks around at the empty space around them with his confused expression.
“What isn’t?” he asks, honestly dumbfounded, and Bill sighs.
He turns his laptop around, showing Gabe the picture on Pete’s Livejournal. “You’re giving people the wrong impression,” he says, a little grumpily. “It’s got to stop.”
Strangely, though, Gabe just raises an eyebrow and comes forward slowly, kneeling down in front of Bill. “It’s not the wrong impression.”
Bill growls a little under his breath. “Dude – your ‘I kiss boys to be rebellious’ thing is cute, sure. But people think we’re actually together. And yeah, we fuck, but –“
“Bill.” He shuts up, and meets Gabe’s eyes. “It’s not the wrong impression.” He puts a hand on Bill’s knee. “For someone so smart, you’re really stupid, you know that?” Bill can’t think of anything to say, his mouth open a little. His mind is racing, and so is his heart in his chest.
Gabe reaches up and cups Bill’s cheek, pressing his thumb for a moment into the cleft of his chin. “What?” he says, strangled. Gabe just chuckles a little.
“The only one,” Gabe says slowly, patiently. He’s still cupping Bill’s cheek. “who did not know we were dating is you. Somehow.” Bill opens his mouth to protest, but Gabe cuts him off. “Did you sleep with anyone else? Is there someone else I should know about?” Bill shakes his head dumbly so he doesn’t have to respond verbally. “And there’s not anyone else for me, either. Honestly, Bill. I love you, you dumb fuck.”
Bill pulls away from Gabe’s hand, finally. “What – no. Gabe, you don’t. You would –“
“Have a Mark?” Gabe asks, smirking a little. “Yeah, it’s on the back of my neck. Just above my hairline. Vicky noticed it when she was trimming my hair like, a year ago.” His hand makes contact again to slide down Bill’s neck, to cover the back of his shoulder. Suddenly, all the kisses make sense, and Bill goes cold, then very, very hot.
“You knew?” he squeaks, and Gabe just smiles at him. It’s not smug, or mischievous. It’s fond, this wide adoring smile that Bill realizes is only ever directed at him. “But…”
“I was always pretty sure,” Gabe explains, petting lightly at his shirt, over the Mark. “But after my make-Bill-see-the-obvious plan went live, Urie called to ask if we’d gotten our shit together. He confirmed that your Mark was for me, and promised to keep his lips shut once I told him I had a Mark for you, too.”
“I’m gonna kill him,” Bill announces, but it has no heat, because Gabe is cupping his cheek again and he’s leaned into it. He doesn’t have any fight left – his head is spinning. Gabe kisses him so he doesn’t have to say anything else, and he nearly tips his laptop onto the ground in his haste to get into Gabe’s arms.
***
“So, William. Your relationship with Gabe Saporta has been the talk of everyone for the past year. What’s going on there?”
Bill smiles serenely at the interviewer. “Oh, a little bit of everything.” His bandmates crack up, but he just grins at the suddenly flushed man glancing at his recorder like he’s not sure if he wants that in his article. It’s true, anyway.