It had occurred to Gabe (in the moment his mouth hit William's, actually) that William might not kiss back.
He had. He had, and the rest of the world could go hang (the rest of what world?). Gabe slid his hand along William's jaw, pushed his fingers into sweat-damp hair, cradled him as he kissed him deep and serious, chasing after the small sound he'd made, that Gabe had felt all the way down to his toes, catching in his chest amidst the jumble of vehement joy that had finally caught up with him. He wanted to laugh wildly, dance all night, kiss William forever.
Or at least a little longer, before he couldn't fight the grin any longer.