#But then he walks around with a Morrissey reference tattooed right on his neck

[mooseyspooky]

There it fucking is! Oh my god I have been trying to find a picture of his Angie tattoo for AGES. It's on the back of his right arm, above his elbow! I can't find a clear picture of it to save my life, but I freaking knew it was on his arm somewhere. Ah!!!!

[gvbejvmes]

Drabble: Truce

Warnings: Hard R for language Relationships: Gabe/Johnny, Gabe/Jillynn Characters: Gabe, Jill, Johnny, Cordelia, Bella Song Inspo: Truce by The Dresden Dolls

2018

“I am the tower around which you orbited.” Gabe told the person who was looking at the painting hanging on the wall. He hated gallery showings, but he needed to show his work if he wanted to sell anything in New York, and right now he had a shit ton of art to be showing off. It felt strange showing off such personal paintings. He’d been the one who asked for the separation from Johnny, and he was the one who ended the relationship, but that didn’t mean that he’d taken it very well. 

Hell, the break-up had devoured him whole. He thought maybe painting and Morrissey would cure him, but he’d ended a ten year marriage because he wanted to explore his sexuality because he wanted to act on his feelings for Jillynn. Instead, all he’d done was mourn something he’d ended himself, which was why he was currently standing in a gallery with all his own pieces. “That’s what’s the piece is called.” He explained. 

The canvas in front of them was covered in paint splatters with an absence of color in the dead-center of the painting. “The closer to the void the more color - it’s symbolic of how the artist’s significant other was their whole world and that’s why the brighter colors are there and the colors get darker the further we get from the center.” 

God, he sounded like one of the art snobs that he fucking hated. Too much of his soul was imbued in these pieces. Showing them, selling them… it was too much for him. Maybe this was a bad idea.

He grabbed a glass of champagne from one of the waiters and all but ran to one of the corners so he could hide. Cordy and Bella were out there somewhere. All he needed to do was find them and they could leave, but his agent said his pieces would sell better if he was there so here he was standing in the corner next to one of his metal installation pieces: prison bars bent out of shape and painted out like a pride flag. 

“Is this supposed to represent you?” An amused voice asked him, and he looked up to find Jill walking over to him, the lights in the gallery making her red hair appear to have a halo. 

A laugh escaped from his lips, unbidden. “Too on the nose?” He asked with a raise of his eyebrow.

She shrugged. “I liked the burned canvas drawing of Bella you did. I’m assuming that’s not for sale?” She asked, even though he could tell by the way she asked the question that she already knew the answer to her own question. “Bella seems very taken with staring at a drawing of herself.”

Gabe grinned. “That’s going over the fireplace. Apparently I need to show pieces that aren’t for sale because it’ll drive up the prices of the pieces that are for sale. Or at least that’s what my agent tells me. I just make things and then decide what I want to keep.” He admitted.

“What’s the deal with the giant map of New York with certain streets in one color and other streets in another color?” She took a sip of her champagne, and once again Gabe found himself thinking that she already knew the answer but that she just wanted to hear him tell her. 

God, their relationship was so weird. Everything felt so strained between them now that he and Johnny were no longer together. There was this bubbling presence every time they were together, and it took everything in him to not hold her hand. They hadn’t talked about their feelings yet. Things were still so complicated. She thought he was still in love with Johnny (and maybe a part of him was), and he was convinced she had a thing for his cousin (and maybe she did). This thing between them felt so tangible that he could touch it if he wanted to. His fingers twitched and he found himself setting down his champagne glass, and picking up one of Jill’s hands and turning her palm up.

“The lines in our palms look a lot like road maps.” He said tracing his index finger over the palm of her hand, freezing when he felt her shiver next to him. “Oh, here.” He slid his suit jacket off and wrapped it around her shoulders. The tips of his ears went an interesting shade of pink as she slipped her arms inside. Something about her wearing his jacket made him feel an almost primal approval - like he was staking his claim or some shit. 

He picked up her hand again. “I had old reference pictures of his hands and the roads that looked like the lines in his hands are red, and the roads that look like my lines are blue. The red streets are the parts of New York that-”

Jill nudged him. “Johnny.”

Gabe nodded. “Yeah, the streets that Johnny is supposed to stick to so we don’t awkwardly run into each other.” He said, not picking up on her signs.

“Is here.” She finished her sentence as she dropped her hand from Gabe’s grip. “Johnny’s in the gallery.”

And if we should meet through some misunderstanding I'll be very sweet very patient and forgiving (now get off my side of the state)

And if we should meet one another in passing Despite these techniques there is sometimes no avoiding (there must be some kind of mistake)

We'll raise high our white flags and say hi and shake hands Declaring the land we're on unAmerican We'll call it even

Freezing, Gabe glanced up and found Johnny standing on the other side of the gallery, near where Bella’s portrait was. ���Fuck.” Gabe scrubbed his hands over his face. “Do I look okay?” Then he realized what he’d just asked and rolled his eyes at himself. “Don’t answer that.” 

He walked halfway in front of the gallery and stopped near a mosaic of hand-painted glass that was shaped like a heart. If you looked very closely each piece of glass wasn’t really painted, but had the words ‘he can go fuck himself’ painted very neatly so from a distance looked like it was just painted colors.

“Do I want to know what the words are on that piece?” Johnny said in greeting. 

He clenched his jaw, and out of the corner of his eye could see Johnny’s security detail. “I don’t want to do this out here, Jay.” He murmured out softly, sure that if Johnny was here anything dramatic would wind up on page six. “And alone.” Out of habit, he grabbed Johnny’s hand and all but dragged him into the small office in the back that his agent said he could use as his green room of sorts.

“What the fuck are you even doing here?” Gabe hissed out, dropping his hand as he paced the small length of the office. “I sure as fuck don’t remember your name being on the invite list.”

Gabe used to love how nothing ever phased or flustered Johnny, but right now it just pissed him the fuck off. “We talked about this, Briel. It’s an election year.” He reminded him, like he was talking to a small child - not that the other man would know anything about that. “I need to appear to be a doting husband until after the election cycle and you need to be a good sport about it.” And it sounded more like a threat than anything else. “With any luck, I’ll blow my opponent out of the water during the Primary and this re-election bullshit will be taken care of long before the General Election, hmm? Besides, Briel, when have I ever missed an opening for one of your shows?”

He wasn’t wrong. Sighing, he leaned against the desk and ran a hand over his mouth, a nervous habit of his. “During the O’Quinn trial in 2013.” Gabe spat out without missing a beat. “And when you had to attend a DNC fundraiser in 2016, and don’t you fucking dare throw out the line about not counting election years. I’m tired of fighting about this shit, Jay.”

“Briel,” And he hated how easily he folded into Johnny’s arms when he gathered him into his chest. “There’s literally a painting of my ass out there.”

Laughing he buried his face into the crook of Johnny’s neck. “No one knows it’s a painting of your back. The fact that your ass is included is only secondary. It’s called Ares, by the way. You know, the Greek god of war. Unless someone else has seen that tattoo, no one else is gonna know it’s you. Except maybe Cordy, but that’s only because it took her too long to learn to knock when she first came to live with us.”

He pulled himself away from Johnny. “You mean it though? As soon as the election is over, I can go public as not being your husband? You turned in the paperwork I sent over last week?” He asked studying him curiously.

“I just need to look over one more thing, and then you’ll have your divorce, Briel.” He didn’t sound very happy about it, but Gabe trusted him to actually file the documents.

Swallowing, Gabe nodded. “Thank you.” He pressed a kiss to Johnny’s cheek and that was when the door to the office opened.

“Gabe, Cordelia can’t get the baby to stop crying and she said you’re better at it than she is and-” Jill froze as she took in the compromising position Gabe was in. “Right.” She said, looking closed off. “I have to go anyway.” She dropped Gabe’s jacket onto the ground and walked away from the room.

He made one step to chase after her, but Johnny’s hand wrapped around his wrist, effectively stopping him. “As far as anyone knows, we’re still a happily married couple, Briel. You can’t chase after her.”

His eyes shut and he nodded. “I need to go check on the girls anyway.” He pulled his jacket back on and refused to look back at Johnny as he re-entered the gallery.

Make your bed and now lie Just like you always do You can fake it for the papers but I'm on to you.