Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/249745.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Bandom, The_Academy_Is..., Cobra_Starship, Midtown
  Relationship:
      Gabe_Saporta/baby!William
  Character:
      Gabe_Saporta, William_Beckett
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-01-05 Words: 1956
****** Don't Give a Damn ('Bout My Bad Reputation) ******
by romanticalgirl
Summary
     I've never been afraid of any deviation
Notes
     Thanks to
     [[info]]
inlovewithnight for the beta. This is not based on any particular knowledge of
facts, but since when does that get in the way? William is roughly 16 in this
fic.

Gabe won’t admit that he likes all ages shows, because everyone else would
laugh at him, and he’s not a huge fan of being laughed at, but he does. He
loves the raw energy that the kids bring, none of it fueled by too much booze,
all of it pure enthusiasm and caffeine highs. It reminds him of himself, so
determined to be part of something that he stood at the edge of stages night
after night, lost in the music and the darkness and the crush of the crowd. He
likes looking down and seeing the jaded masks fall away as the music takes
over, seeing them raw and open and exposed, feeling the words and the bass line
like every word was written just for them, like every song is the secret
they’ve been hiding inside.
They’re somewhere on the outskirts of Chicago, some suburb made up of too-rich
kids and too-poor kids like the kind John Hughes used to make movies about, but
in the clubs – Breakfast or otherwise – you can’t tell the difference. Gabe’s
been watching the crowd through the opening acts, a local group with some goofy
looking kid in a fedora rocking the fuck out of the drums, and then another
band that’s been catching some of their gigs with them. The crowd is into the
local band, screaming along with the lyrics like they helped write them or
they’re afraid the singer’s going to forget the next verse. Gabe smiles to
himself, smirks really, because it never changes, and watches the crowd some
more.
After the show, he gets cornered by the drummer from the local band, a kid who
doesn’t look old enough to be out past eight on a school night. He’s cute in a
shy kind of way, sweat gluing his reddish hair to his forehead. Gabe leans
against the wall and lets him talk about music, nodding along with his ideas.
Somewhere along the way, possibly by the third whiskey, he loses the thread of
the conversation or possibly more than that when the short redhead is replaced
by a tall, thin brunet with legs that look about four miles long and pants so
tight Gabe’s worried the kid’s going to pass out if someone rubs against him
wrong.
The kid leans in and Gabe’s busy trying to guess his age – sixteen? Maybe
seventeen? – when he starts to talk. “I’m William Beckett.”
“What happened to the drummer?”
“He’s over talking to Pete.”
“Oh.” Gabe takes another drink of whiskey and glances around. He knows who Pete
is – Arma Angelus is fairly well known, though Gabe’s not a huge fan of the
band or the front man – “So you’re his replacement?”
“What?” William blushes and Gabe watches the red flood his pale skin. It’s kind
of hot in a jailbait sort of way, the kind of way that Gabe’s not supposed to
pay attention to, at least according to the other members of his band. Who are
currently off somewhere, probably with jailbait of their own. “Oh. No. I’m
just…I’m a big fan.”
“Right. I figured, since you were at the show.” He’s used to this. The awkward
conversation with fans who aren’t sure whether to gush and scare him with their
knowledge of his music and his life or to be shy and silent and respectful.
Gabe’s not particularly good at either, but this kid seems honestly uncertain
of what to do.
“I’m a musician.”
Gabe swallows down the rest of his whiskey as everything becomes clear. There’s
also this type of kid, the one who looks at Gabe like he’s got the secret to
the meal ticket, the secret to stardom. “Don’t bother, kid.”
“I…what?”
“Trust me, if I knew how to make you famous, I wouldn’t be here playing shows
for you and your buddies.”
“No. That’s not what…” William stops and smiles and Gabe stomach twists at the
sight of the crooked tilt. Save him from fucking poets, man. “I mean, it’s why
I love your stuff. Your lyrics and your music. You’re an artist.”
“You’re a bullshitter.” Gabe smiles and licks his lips. “I like that.”
William smiles and Gabe ignores the little voices in his head telling him to
walk away. Walking away from anything has never been his strong suit,
especially when it’s likely to backfire or kick him in the balls. And this kid
has bad idea, Gabriel written on him like glowing neon letters. Gabe matches
William’s smile and reminds himself he’s only going to live once, plus, what
are the odds he’s ever going to see this kid again?
He reaches out and slips a finger in William’s belt loop, tugging him further
back stage. “C’mere.”
William stumbles after him, coltish, and Gabe has a brief, flashing thought of
ride him that disappears in the semi-darkness, only William’s wide eyes
illuminated in the green light of the exit sign. “What are we…” William
swallows and looks up at Gabe. “What…”
“Shh,” Gabe’s voice rumbles softly as he steps closer, holding William against
the wall without even touching him. Gabe licks his lips and watches the
expressions play across William’s face. The kid can’t hide anything, from
confusion to shock to want to hope to disbelief, and it’s almost painful to
watch. Or would be if Gabe didn’t like what he sees. He takes another step in
and touches William’s jaw. Gabe can feel him swallow, his long lashes
exaggerating every blink.
“I…”
“I know.” Gabe leans in and brushes his lips against William’s, breath ghosting
over them more than an actual touch, but William’s mouth opens anyway. Gabe
bites back a groan and leans in, actually kissing him this time, tasting the
sweet sugary taste of soda on his breath.
William’s breath hitches and stops somewhere in his chest as he tilts his head
back, opening up under Gabe’s mouth. Gabe settles his hand on William’s hip;
thumb brushing the bare skin between his jeans and t-shirt as his tongue slides
between William’s lips. William manages to completely his breath, gasping
softly. “Oh.”
“It’s okay,” Gabe whispers, nuzzling at the bare expanse of William’s throat as
he tilts his head back, rising up on his toes so he’s taller, fits better
against Gabe. Gabe teeth scrape at the soft skin, feeling the faint threat of
stubble against his lips. He works his way up to William’s jaw, sucking red
marks on his way back to William’s mouth. “It’s easy.”
“H-hard,” William manages, his voice shaky. “It…it’s hard.”
Gabe laughs and kisses him again, his tongue exploring. William’s tongue is
slightly rough from ice and soda, sliding against Gabe’s tentatively. Gabe
makes a low noise, sucking on it, until William is plastered against him, hands
fisted in Gabe’s sweaty t-shirt as he kisses back, moaning something low and
desperate in Gabe’s mouth.
He pulls back enough to let William breathe, though he doesn’t seem to be doing
a very good job of it. Gabe laughs low and goes back to nuzzling William’s
neck, hand sliding up to trace the column of his throat. “Am I your first time,
William Beckett?”
“I…I’ve…kissed b-before.” His voice is breathless, back to pre-puberty
unevenness – assuming he’s all the way into puberty.
“Like this?” Gabe kisses him again, the hand not curved around William’s neck
snaking down to open William’s fly. William shakes his head desperately and
Gabe pulls back, looking at him from too close, his fingers still on William’s
zipper. “No?”
“No. No.” He's fighting for breath, fighting for words. “Not…never like this.”
His hips rock forward, his cock pressing against Gabe’s hand. “Please. Oh, God.
Please.”
Gabe slips his hand down, the sound of the zipper unheard against the pounding
bass line of the sound system. William’s eyes are huge as he blinks up at Gabe
and then looks down as Gabe’s hand wraps around him. There’s a noise Gabe feels
more than hears and then William’s eyes are closed and his head is back against
the wall.
“O-oh…G-g-god.”
Gabe’s fingers slide along the length of William’s dick, moaning in the back of
his throat at how thick and hard William is already, Gabe barely touching him.
“Fuck,” Gabe breathes against William’s ear, closing the distance between them.
“Fuck. Your cock. God, I could do so many fucking indecent things to your
cock.”
William’s breath shudders roughly in his chest, stuttering out against Gabe’s
shoulder. “I…”
“Suck you.” Gabe’s voice is low and rough from the set, but even more from the
hot dryness in his throat at the thought of swallowing William’s dick, sucking
it deep in his mouth, working it with his tongue. “Take you so fucking deep,
wrap my mouth around you and taste you.”
William opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out but a gust of
hot air. Gabe takes advantage of the moment, closing his mouth over William’s
and thrusting his tongue past parted lips into the heat of William’s mouth. He
meets Gabe’s tongue with his own, tentative but getting more aggressive until
he falls apart in a shudder as Gabe’s fingers slide down his cock and curve
around his balls. “O-oh. Oh. Oh. Oh f-fu-fuck.”
“Don’t even have to suck you, do I? Just touch you.” Gabe moves his hand back
up, wrapping it around William’s cock and stroking him slowly. “You’d probably
fly the fuck apart if I spread you open and slipped my fingers inside you.”
William’s head hits the wall loud enough that Gabe hears it and his entire body
is arched toward Gabe’s, his cock pulsing against Gabe’s palm. He looks fucking
lost somewhere in his head, shivering like there’s not sweat beaded on his
throat, and the desperate, sibilant rush of ‘yes’ coming from his mouth is more
than Gabe can resist. He kisses him again, tasting the words, tightening his
hand around William and stroking him in earnest.
It doesn’t take long before William is coming over Gabe’s hand, body jerking
hard and wild. Gabe strokes him through it until William slumps forward against
him, sweaty forehead pressed against Gabe’s neck, his breath one hot gasp after
another. Gabe’s hand is still on his neck; thumb feeling the desperate pounding
of William’s pulse. “Okay?”
“That…you…” William shakes his head and the next thing Gabe knows, long, slick
fingers are opening his jeans and sliding inside. Watching William had
guaranteed his hard on, but the feeling of William’s fingers closing around
him, tentative but still firm, causes his cock to jerk. He doesn’t bother
talking, and there’s nothing like finesse in his strokes, but it’s tight and
hot and Gabe’s worked up enough that it does the job, and he comes against the
slide of William’s palm, pulsing between his spread fingers. The breath
shudders out of William again as he looks down. “Oh.”
“You look like you could use a drink.”
“Or four.” William laughs softly, the sound a little rough around the edges.
“That was…”
He’s cut off by Heath leaning into the hallway. “Yo! Saporta. You fucker.
C’mon. Van’s loaded and ready to fucking roll, asshole.”
Gabe waves him off and leans in, kissing William again hard and possessive.
It’s a stupid thing to do – he’s likely to never see the kid again – but he
doesn’t get to be everybody’s first time. “I gotta go.” William’s frowning when
he nods, until Gabe kisses him again, quick this time. “Keep working at your
music, kid.” He wipes his hand on his jeans and manages to get himself tucked
back into his clothes before he hits the back door, and he has to run to catch
up with the van as it starts pulling away.
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