Fic: 5 Times Gene Almost Said the L-Word, green cortina, Sam/Gene, dakfinv
Title: 5 Times Gene Almost Said the L-Word
Author: dak
Word Count: 1097
Rating: green cortina
Warnings: mild angst
Pairing: Sam/Gene, Gene/Missus
Summary: Does what it says on the tin.
A/N: For xiilnek who requested the prompt.
1)
To Genie Hunt, age four, the world was simple. It consisted only of Mum, Dad, and Stu. Days were spent playing in the street with the other neighborhood boys or sometimes Dad would take him down to the quays and show him the boats. Genie was fascinated by the boats, how something so big could float in the water when he, small as he was, always sunk like a stone.
One day, he woke to find a new toy boat at the end of his bed. It was made of wood and wasn’t something he could get at a store. Dad made it himself, he was sure. He always made things, his Dad, but never for Genie. Not until now. Genie was thrilled. He couldn’t wait to thank Dad and ran down the stairs in his bare feet, shouting all the way.
“Dad! Dad! ‘S great! Dad! Cheers, Dad! You’re great, Dad! I lo...”
Genie skidded to a stop in the kitchen. Mum was crying and holding her face. Dad was red-faced, a bottle in one hand, his other a fist.
“You what?” Dad asked. Genie couldn’t answer. He was frozen. “C’mere.” His father grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the hall. His hand was tight against Gene’s thin arm. “What were you going to say?”
“N-nothing...” Gene replied.
“Don’t lie to me, boy!”
“I...for the...thank you...”
His father looked down and saw the toy clenched in Gene’s hands.
“Right. Well. There’s a good lad. Minding your p’s and q’s. Run along then. Go and play with your brother.” His dad let go.
Gene was off and out the door. He didn’t even stop for his shoes. Down by the canal, he watched the boat float while his heart sank.
2)
To Gene Hunt, age twenty, the world was clear. He’d just finished his time in the service. He had a job lined up with the police. He had money saved. All he was missing was a wife. He had to get married, Mum always said. It was all up to Gene now, she told him. Stu, well, Stu might come round, but it was better to not talk much about Stu.
Well, he couldn’t disappoint Mum, could he? Last woman in the world he’d ever hurt. So, he took up with this nice girl from the post office. Came from a good family. Not rich, but her parents were hardworking. Brother never caused any trouble. And they adored Gene. Thought it was wonderful to know a policeman. Good future in that, yes there was. And their daughter, she wasn’t the prettiest or the smartest, but she was nice and knew her place. She and Gene would be the perfect match. Everyone said so.
Soon, Gene had a wife and a honeymoon in Blackpool along with it. It was her first time, of course, the night of their wedding. She was a good girl. It wasn’t Gene’s, but he didn’t say as much. Likely she knew, but it was better not to say those things out loud, especially on one’s wedding night. Afterwards, she had curled up beside him and whispered those words.
Gene almost said it back, but he couldn’t. Not if he didn’t meant it. Not if he didn’t feel it. He said “Me, too” instead, and hugged her back. She was a nice girl.
3)
To Gene Hunt, age forty-three, the world was beautiful. Beautiful and bright and bronze. He’d never seen anything near as gorgeous as her. As he ran his fingertips down her smooth exterior the feeling was electric. He had never felt so alive.
He’d never owned a new car, either. Oh, he’d own plenty of cars before, but they were all secondhand - from the station or a friend or his soon-to-be ex-wife’s dodgy brother. He’d never owned a car that was truly, solely his.
He ran his hand down her side again and began to whisper to her when Carling interrupted.
“Guv...oh, you talking to the car again?”
“No.”
“Right.”
Gene waited until Ray went back inside the station before following behind, tossing one last look over his shoulder.
4)
To Gene Hunt, age forty-four, the world was bloody confusing. He had everything all figured out - work, family (or lack thereof), expectations. Nothing was supposed to surprise him. Nothing like this. Because this wasn’t supposed to happen. He was not supposed to end up in bed next to the world’s most annoying Detective Inspector. Especially his annoying Detective Inspector. Especially his annoying male Detective Inspector.
He was not supposed to be lying here in a shitty cot with the morning sun coming through the shitty curtains. He most certainly was not supposed to have his arm round the sweaty, skinny bugger, his chin nestled into that perfectly shaped curve of said sweaty, skinny bugger’s neck and he was not at all, in the very least, supposed to feel happy about all of this.
So, he said nothing. And when Sam rolled towards him - inching even closer and whispering his bloody name - even though the words were there, dangling on the tip of his tongue like a hooked fish desperate for escape, for release, Gene said nothing.
Because this couldn’t be real and it couldn’t last and it was most certainly a one time deal. Oh yes. Of that, Gene was absolutely bloody certain.
5)
To Gene Hunt, age forty-four and a half, the world was simple and clear and beautiful, and he didn’t understand how he could have ever been confused.
All it had taken was one well placed bullet and the sight of the person he cared about most in the world lying in a hospital bed, injured and ailing but alive, and everything made sense.
He never left that bedside, not until Sam woke, and thank Christ he’d talked their way into a private room. (Man was a bloody hero, wasn’t he? A police officer taking a bullet in the line of duty. Deserved the best attention, didn’t he?)
Because they had a private room, Gene could hold his hand and talk him through it, ensure him everything was going to be alright. And Gene was about to say it, those words he feared most in the world ever since he could remember, but at that moment, Sam had opened his eyes.
Sam has smiled at him and Gene had smiled back and the words caught in Gene’s throat. But, it was alright because when Gene’s eyes met his, Gene realized he needn’t say anything at all. Sam already knew.
Author: dak
Word Count: 1097
Rating: green cortina
Warnings: mild angst
Pairing: Sam/Gene, Gene/Missus
Summary: Does what it says on the tin.
A/N: For xiilnek who requested the prompt.
1)
To Genie Hunt, age four, the world was simple. It consisted only of Mum, Dad, and Stu. Days were spent playing in the street with the other neighborhood boys or sometimes Dad would take him down to the quays and show him the boats. Genie was fascinated by the boats, how something so big could float in the water when he, small as he was, always sunk like a stone.
One day, he woke to find a new toy boat at the end of his bed. It was made of wood and wasn’t something he could get at a store. Dad made it himself, he was sure. He always made things, his Dad, but never for Genie. Not until now. Genie was thrilled. He couldn’t wait to thank Dad and ran down the stairs in his bare feet, shouting all the way.
“Dad! Dad! ‘S great! Dad! Cheers, Dad! You’re great, Dad! I lo...”
Genie skidded to a stop in the kitchen. Mum was crying and holding her face. Dad was red-faced, a bottle in one hand, his other a fist.
“You what?” Dad asked. Genie couldn’t answer. He was frozen. “C’mere.” His father grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the hall. His hand was tight against Gene’s thin arm. “What were you going to say?”
“N-nothing...” Gene replied.
“Don’t lie to me, boy!”
“I...for the...thank you...”
His father looked down and saw the toy clenched in Gene’s hands.
“Right. Well. There’s a good lad. Minding your p’s and q’s. Run along then. Go and play with your brother.” His dad let go.
Gene was off and out the door. He didn’t even stop for his shoes. Down by the canal, he watched the boat float while his heart sank.
2)
To Gene Hunt, age twenty, the world was clear. He’d just finished his time in the service. He had a job lined up with the police. He had money saved. All he was missing was a wife. He had to get married, Mum always said. It was all up to Gene now, she told him. Stu, well, Stu might come round, but it was better to not talk much about Stu.
Well, he couldn’t disappoint Mum, could he? Last woman in the world he’d ever hurt. So, he took up with this nice girl from the post office. Came from a good family. Not rich, but her parents were hardworking. Brother never caused any trouble. And they adored Gene. Thought it was wonderful to know a policeman. Good future in that, yes there was. And their daughter, she wasn’t the prettiest or the smartest, but she was nice and knew her place. She and Gene would be the perfect match. Everyone said so.
Soon, Gene had a wife and a honeymoon in Blackpool along with it. It was her first time, of course, the night of their wedding. She was a good girl. It wasn’t Gene’s, but he didn’t say as much. Likely she knew, but it was better not to say those things out loud, especially on one’s wedding night. Afterwards, she had curled up beside him and whispered those words.
Gene almost said it back, but he couldn’t. Not if he didn’t meant it. Not if he didn’t feel it. He said “Me, too” instead, and hugged her back. She was a nice girl.
3)
To Gene Hunt, age forty-three, the world was beautiful. Beautiful and bright and bronze. He’d never seen anything near as gorgeous as her. As he ran his fingertips down her smooth exterior the feeling was electric. He had never felt so alive.
He’d never owned a new car, either. Oh, he’d own plenty of cars before, but they were all secondhand - from the station or a friend or his soon-to-be ex-wife’s dodgy brother. He’d never owned a car that was truly, solely his.
He ran his hand down her side again and began to whisper to her when Carling interrupted.
“Guv...oh, you talking to the car again?”
“No.”
“Right.”
Gene waited until Ray went back inside the station before following behind, tossing one last look over his shoulder.
4)
To Gene Hunt, age forty-four, the world was bloody confusing. He had everything all figured out - work, family (or lack thereof), expectations. Nothing was supposed to surprise him. Nothing like this. Because this wasn’t supposed to happen. He was not supposed to end up in bed next to the world’s most annoying Detective Inspector. Especially his annoying Detective Inspector. Especially his annoying male Detective Inspector.
He was not supposed to be lying here in a shitty cot with the morning sun coming through the shitty curtains. He most certainly was not supposed to have his arm round the sweaty, skinny bugger, his chin nestled into that perfectly shaped curve of said sweaty, skinny bugger’s neck and he was not at all, in the very least, supposed to feel happy about all of this.
So, he said nothing. And when Sam rolled towards him - inching even closer and whispering his bloody name - even though the words were there, dangling on the tip of his tongue like a hooked fish desperate for escape, for release, Gene said nothing.
Because this couldn’t be real and it couldn’t last and it was most certainly a one time deal. Oh yes. Of that, Gene was absolutely bloody certain.
5)
To Gene Hunt, age forty-four and a half, the world was simple and clear and beautiful, and he didn’t understand how he could have ever been confused.
All it had taken was one well placed bullet and the sight of the person he cared about most in the world lying in a hospital bed, injured and ailing but alive, and everything made sense.
He never left that bedside, not until Sam woke, and thank Christ he’d talked their way into a private room. (Man was a bloody hero, wasn’t he? A police officer taking a bullet in the line of duty. Deserved the best attention, didn’t he?)
Because they had a private room, Gene could hold his hand and talk him through it, ensure him everything was going to be alright. And Gene was about to say it, those words he feared most in the world ever since he could remember, but at that moment, Sam had opened his eyes.
Sam has smiled at him and Gene had smiled back and the words caught in Gene’s throat. But, it was alright because when Gene’s eyes met his, Gene realized he needn’t say anything at all. Sam already knew.