William met him halfway, keeping his hands fisted in Gabe's shirt and rising up onto his toes before realizing he didn't have to, that the two of them fit just about as perfectly together as he could have imagined. Gabe's mouth was warm and wet when William automatically parted his lips to lick into it, and William wanted to tangle his fingers in Gabe's matted hair but he couldn't seem to make himself let go. He licked at Gabe's tongue instead, a little desperate but trying to curb it, feeling so flooded with euphoria and relief and giddiness that it was actually over and they were both somehow still alive that he swayed where he stood, clinging tighter to keep himself upright.
He managed, eventually, to pry his fingers from the stretched-out, blood-spattered cloth. He flattened one hand against Gabe's chest to feel his heart, still beating, and made a soft, grateful noise into Gabe's mouth.