Through It All [Gabilliam]

Through It All

So, Gabe fucked up.

Gabe, being Gabe and all, had managed to forget about dinner with William for the third week in a row, leaving his boyfriend to be deserted in yet another restaurant. Rightfully, William had flipped his shit. Gabe was yelled at for about an hour straight, and he was never too good with words, so fighting back definitely wasn't the smartest move. He did it anyway.

It was going on four days now since William had gotten so damn infuriated that he'd packed a bag and left their apartment, going back to the suburbs with his parents. The whole place was starting to freak Gabe out. Staring at the dark corners of their room wasn't doing him any good, but falling asleep without William next to him was proving to be unbelievably difficult.

When Gabe woke up, he woke up cold. He moped his sorry ass to work, and being a small producer, he had to deal with a lot of annoying people. It only made it worse. Then he would go home, and instead of waiting the forty-five minutes until William would get home, he just sat there. Waiting. Hoping. Praying, even though he wasn't too into that.

On the morning of day four, Gabe was getting antsy. His chest felt ungodly heavy, as did his head, because he hadn't fallen asleep until he'd grabbed one of William's shirts around 2am. He missed how he smelled. It was starting to really fucking blow.

So, Gabe called him. It went to voicemail. William didn't usually wake up until after Gabe had already left for work, so it didn't surprise him. Yet, he still hoped William was feeling as helpless as he was, just waiting for his phone to ring.

At this point, Gabe didn't care if he was getting yelled at or bitched out, he just wanted to hear his boyfriend of four and a half years' voice.

After another miserable day of dealing with the most idiotic people on the face of the earth, Gabe went home, and unsurprisingly, it was empty. He drove his fist into the door, once, twice, three times until he'd broken down, forehead pressed against the cold wood accompanied by the hot tears against his cheeks.

Everything in the house was William. The dumb curtains, the mugs, the couch cushions, the bed, the closets, what had Gabe done?

He passed out on the bathroom floor that night after bawling his eyes out for the entirety of the evening. The god damned towels reminded him of William.

Day five came along and Gabe called off of work. It was a Friday, so William was off anyway. He drove about two straight hours back to William's old neighborhood, having those suburban streets memorized like the back of his hand.

He passed the park, the great old gazebo where they'd met up when William had first started sneaking out of his house Senior year. Then, their old friend Ryan's parent's house. More nights than they'd like to admit were spent making out in his basement. A small smile crept onto Gabe's face.

So many times Gabe had held William's hand down these streets, so many times had Gabe walked him to his door, hugging him hard enough to lift him of the ground, he always hated that, but Gabe loved it.

Gabe pulled into the driveway, exactly like he'd done on Thanksgiving when he'd split his night between both he and William's families. His car wasn't outside, Gabe prayed it would be in the garage.

It was freezing, as it does in mid-December, a chill ran down Gabe's spine as he exited the car. He crushed wet snow beneath his sneakers as he walked up the steps to the door, his exhale visible as he rang the bell.

A few seconds passed before he heard quick footsteps come down the stairs. They stopped at the door, he must've seen him through the peep hole.

Another heavy exhale came from Gabe, "Bill?" His hands were stuffed in his pockets, the air nipping at his exposed skin. It was worth it.