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Title: Full Moons and Minor Keys (epilogue)
Author: [info]lolab
Pairing: William Beckett/Gabe Saporta
Rating: R. ish.
Summary: It’s a freaking epilogue, okay. :P
Disclaimer: Pete Wentz is the lucky boy; I don’t own them.
Warnings: Overwhelming squee factor.
Notes:  Acknowledgments at the end; sequel in a couple months. :)  Love you guys.

Ignore weird formatting issues in this.  LJ is being my nemesis right now.


xposted etc.

 

Previous Chapters:

- Chapter 1 and Chapter 1b

- Chapter 2

- Chapter 3

- Chapter 4

- Chapter 5

- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7




Epilogue.

 

 

The first time it happens, it’s Butcher.

 
I flip open my phone with my free hand, careful not to drop it over the pan of stir-fry I'm nursing on the stove.

"Hello?"
 

“Hey, gorgeous.”

 

My heart skips a beat, despite the fact that we probably talk on the phone about eleven times a day.

 

“Hey, twat-face.  Whatchya wearing?”

 

“Nothing, baby, how ‘bout you?” a distinctly non-William voice coos.

 

“Butcher, get the fuck off the phone!” Bill squeaks.

 

A dirty, triumphant laugh, and a click.

 

I can practically hear the blush in his cheeks, but I know he’s overjoyed that he doesn’t have to hide this relationship from his bandmates (whose highly mature reactions had ranged from “It’s about time” to “You mean you guys weren’t married already?”).

 

“That was awesome,” I grin.  “Where are you, anyway?”

 

“Backstage.  We’ve got two rooms but one phone line.”

 

“Sweet.  How was the show last night?”

 

“Really good.  Would’ve been better with you.”

 

Bastard, always making me melt like butter.

 

“One more month, babe,” I remind him.

 

“Shit, that’s still too long.  Hang on, I’m stripping, it’s a fucking furnace in here.”

 

...Have I mentioned I really, really love my boyfriend?

 

Ahem.  And now back to your regularly scheduled twenty-eight-year-old male narrator.

 

“Okay, I’m back.”

 

“I think  you just gave me a hard-on,” I state very matter-of-factly.

 

“Shit,” he giggles.  “What’re you doing?”  (Beckett phone-speak for “Can you get your pants off?”, I’d learned.)

 

“Makin’ stir-fry.  Burning it, more like.  Shit.”  I reach for a spatula.

 

“Ugh, how dare you eat when we could be having phone sex.”

 

“I know, right?  So I think I lost my bassist, by the way.”

 

“What?!”

 

“For a couple weeks, at least,” I chuckle.  “He and Brendon flitted off to fucking Bermuda.”

 

“Holy shit!”  Bill’s laughing.  “That’s awesome!  ...Did you just say ‘flitted’?”

 

“Shut up!”

 

“Fag.”

 

“I know you are but what am I?”  I smile and poke at a mushroom in the pan.

 

“Oh, I meant to tell you.  I finished my song.”

 

“...Really?  You finally gonna let me hear it?”

 

“Yeah, as soon as you get here.”  He pauses.  “It’s in A flat.”

 

“You already told me that, cielo,” I smile, not unaware of how beautifully easy it had been to start showering him with cheesy Spanish endearments.

 

“I know,” he says.  “But it’s in A flat major.”

 

I sort of freeze up stupidly, spatula in hand and a jar of basil hovering over the pan, phone perched between my ear and shoulder.  And as I stand here in my kitchen at nine in the afternoon, William’s voice in one ear and the distant lull of New York City in the other, I can’t remember the last time my face began to hurt from smiling so long.

 

 

 

fin.

 

 _______________________________________

 

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

 

 

Muchas gracias...

 

- To my cielo, Keri, who thinks Bden smells like strawberries and looks like a tropical bird and that Gabe is a Keebler Elf.  Thank you for loving me, for buying recordable CDs the exact color of Gabe’s hoodie, and for DrunkenGayPorn!Fridays.  <3 always.

 

- To my boss, Chase, who insisted I name a character after her, and for making workdays awesome.

 

- To Bilvy and Gabanti, for getting drunk enough for me to have the LJ icon of epic win.  And for so much more.

 

- To my carpal tunnel syndrome, for teaching me how to write on paper and still make it good.

 

- To everyone who bought me off with porn and thus made my life beautiful. :)

 

- To Becca, my original slash partner, for her love of P!ATD, for letting me convert her to emo-ism, for being terrified of Pete Wentz, and for believing William and I deserve each other in life due to our both being so “redonk.”

 

 - To Ess (conquer_minds), my LJ wife, for so many things, not the least of which being “Survivor: Decaydance,” the most brilliant creation, quite possibly, in the history of the known world. <3

 

- To Maud B., one of the most beautiful souls I’ve met in years.

 

- Last but far from least, to my supergroup, Rebecca, Izzy, Kendra, and Sophie, a.k.a. The Clandestine Collective.  For jizzing on tomorrow’s report, for making my pants go wow, for our mascot, dance floor frottage, wanking off at 10 in the morning, the List of Unspeakables, spam icons, our six thousand slogans and everything else, and for generally just being the best internet friends I’ve had in ages and the most delightful bunch of writers I’ve ever had the privilege to work with.  WATCH OUT FOR US, BANDOM.  WE COME BEARING SLASH.

<3 to all.



 

(no subject)

Date: 2008-04-13 08:58 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lolab.livejournal.com
OMFG IF YOU WRITE ME JASON/WILLIAM HIGH SCHOOL FIC I WILL MARRY YOU ALL OVER AGAIN. PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS

(no subject)

Date: 2008-04-13 09:00 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] conquer-minds.livejournal.com
IT WILL BE DONE, JUST BECAUSE I LOVE YOU SO SO SO MUCH, BB. HOWEVER YOU MAY HAVE TO BE *~PATIENT 'CAUSE WORK AND PIANO IS GETTING ME ALL BOGGLED DOWN. DDD:

(no subject)

Date: 2008-04-13 09:39 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lolab.livejournal.com
P#O*$(P#*U)(#U($)#$ NO! want NAO!!!!!!! :P at least, at least, start it for me? email me a tiny bit? *puppy eyes*

(no subject)

Date: 2008-04-15 08:50 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] conquer-minds.livejournal.com
DAMMIT you always do puppy eyes. DDD:

I might write a bit today or tomorrow, don't worry I will definitely write it, though. ♥

And NO I WILL NOT E-MAIL YOU A TINY BIT, MISTER! It must be a *~surprise! Hehe. Be patient. ;DDDD It'll be worth it, bb.

(no subject)

Date: 2008-04-15 08:59 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lolab.livejournal.com
P#O$*UPOFIJ#PO$U#P*$UP#U $#P$A*U#PO NEED. NEED NAO. po#*a$&(p*

(no subject)

Date: 2008-04-16 11:18 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] conquer-minds.livejournal.com
O bb, I hate seeing you so frustrated.

*distracts you with distraction!sex*

xDD

(no subject)

Date: 2008-04-16 11:46 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lolab.livejournal.com
mmmmmmmmmm

BUT WANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! O*&#$ #)*&)($#& )($*& #)(*$&

(no subject)

Date: 2008-04-17 02:49 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] conquer-minds.livejournal.com
Oh, you.

Did you want a private school AU or just a high school AU? ;DDD Think about the potential use of uniforms, bb.

(no subject)

Date: 2008-04-17 11:27 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lolab.livejournal.com
#P$(#UFPOI#UP$(*U#P$VN#(*%U#(W*%. oh GOD uniforms. but. well i want it to be realistic, and it totally doesn't have to be an AU. jason and william were like best friends in high school, and william used to make fun of his little brother, a certain Adam T. ;)

SO. regular high school, non AU. :D

PO#*&$09F(*#U4093790473098(#*&0984 ILY

i think we should do a ryden with the private school. ;) the image of brendon in a uniform oh FUCKKKKKKKKKKKK

(no subject)

Date: 2008-04-19 03:45 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] conquer-minds.livejournal.com
I'll try and conjure something up this weekend, bb. *salutes*

Nrrrgh, uniforms FTW. People in zee bandom should all take tips from MCR. xDD

(no subject)

Date: 2008-04-19 12:34 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lolab.livejournal.com
*dies of happiness*

i've had such a rotten couple of days, i've barely slept. ugh. i could certainly use some smut from you. <3 i'm also feeling very pitiful and cuddly. *snuzzles up against you* spoon me pls? ;)

#$()#$*U#(*$U#()$U#$IKR?? UNIFORRRRRRRMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!shiftone

(no subject)

Date: 2008-04-20 02:42 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] conquer-minds.livejournal.com
*snuggles*

O bb, you're so cute. x3

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