QAF: Once Upon a Time in America
Jan. 18th, 2004 12:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
doyleNon-Buffy fanfic, for once. Not a fandom that's of interest to more than about two people on my friends list, but posting it so it can go in my Memories *g*
Title: Once Upon a Time in America
Author: Doyle
Fandom: Queer as Folk UK
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Stuart/Vince
Summary: It's probably too short to need one, but okay - Stuart plays with trains.
Notes: set after QAF2
Yeah, Vince's heart still belonged to Doctor Who, but lately he'd been thinking more about The Hitch-hiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Space is big, it pointed out. Really big.
Vince had taken to mentally paraphrasing that as 'America is big. Really big.' Even the part they were in now, the desolate, sandy, arse-end-of-nowhere deserty bit, looked like it could eat most of the British Isles and squeeze in the Outer Hebrides. The jeep was a jarring patch of black against rust coloured sand and sky that went on forever.
Stuart was about to jump in front of a train.
Oh, he claimed he only wanted to look in the tunnel - great big hole in a mountain that looked like it belonged in Disneyworld - but Vince knew that expression on his face, even behind the sunglasses. That was Stuart look number eight thousand and six, the one that said 'I haven't done anything to nearly get myself and Vince killed today, let's fix that.'
Vince hung back uneasily as Stuart strolled between the tracks, wandering in and out of the mouth of the tunnel like Sigmund Freud's worst nightmare. "Don't be a twat," he said. "C'mon, it's boiling out here, let's get back in the car."
Stuart bent down to touch the metal lines, and Vince had a sudden vision of his horrible electrocution to add to the one of death by train. "There's nothing coming. Track's not vibrating."
He snorted. Like he knew if there was anything coming or not. Stuart Alan Jones, world's greatest train expert. "Come back here."
Stuart straightened up, peeling the glasses off and fixing him with a cocky look that chilled him, even in the late-afternoon sweltering heat. "You come over here." Arm slightly extended. Challenging.
Without meaning to, Vince flashed back to the wedding, and all by themselves his feet were carrying him over the loose stones and to Stuart's side, even as his mother's voice in his head said, "if Stuart jumped into the canal, would you?"
Because yeah. He would have. Still would.
"See?" Stuart said. "Nothing coming. We'd hear it. Jump out of the way."
Oh, God. "No! Stuart, we are getting in the car and we are driving on. We are not playing bloody chicken with trains."
It said something that as forceful as his statement was, there was absolutely no hope behind it that he'd be listened to. Stuart stepped towards him, smirking. Look four hundred and fifty-five. Let's be a cunt and make Vince suffer.
"Christ, I love it when you boss me around."
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, fuck off."
Stuart spun on his heel and made for the tunnel again. "Go on, then, back to the car. Reckon there should be a train through here in a couple of minutes. I'll stay here and…"
He didn't get to say what he'd do, because Vince grabbed him by the wrist and physically dragged him off the tracks. Not that Stuart resisted much; he'd probably been half-serious about liking it when Vince bossed him around, twisted bastard.
Stuart laughed. Vince didn't. He dimly realised he was still holding on to Stuart's arm, but didn't let go.
"What?" Stuart challenged. "Are you scared?"
"No," he said honestly.
Look eighty-nine. A rare one. Surprise, maybe a flicker of uncertainty, quickly replaced with...
Except he didn't know that one, because he didn't think he'd ever seen it before. Not directed at him.
"Always saving me," Stuart murmured, and how'd they gotten so close together? His shirt was sticking to him; had to be the heat, except he was cold, suddenly. Freezing, and when Stuart kissed him (or he kissed Stuart, one or the other, because they went from two inches apart to no inches apart while his brain was off doing something else) the heat flooded back.
Neither of them noticed the ground shiver beneath them or, a second later, the roar of the train.
END
Title: Once Upon a Time in America
Author: Doyle
Fandom: Queer as Folk UK
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Stuart/Vince
Summary: It's probably too short to need one, but okay - Stuart plays with trains.
Notes: set after QAF2
Yeah, Vince's heart still belonged to Doctor Who, but lately he'd been thinking more about The Hitch-hiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Space is big, it pointed out. Really big.
Vince had taken to mentally paraphrasing that as 'America is big. Really big.' Even the part they were in now, the desolate, sandy, arse-end-of-nowhere deserty bit, looked like it could eat most of the British Isles and squeeze in the Outer Hebrides. The jeep was a jarring patch of black against rust coloured sand and sky that went on forever.
Stuart was about to jump in front of a train.
Oh, he claimed he only wanted to look in the tunnel - great big hole in a mountain that looked like it belonged in Disneyworld - but Vince knew that expression on his face, even behind the sunglasses. That was Stuart look number eight thousand and six, the one that said 'I haven't done anything to nearly get myself and Vince killed today, let's fix that.'
Vince hung back uneasily as Stuart strolled between the tracks, wandering in and out of the mouth of the tunnel like Sigmund Freud's worst nightmare. "Don't be a twat," he said. "C'mon, it's boiling out here, let's get back in the car."
Stuart bent down to touch the metal lines, and Vince had a sudden vision of his horrible electrocution to add to the one of death by train. "There's nothing coming. Track's not vibrating."
He snorted. Like he knew if there was anything coming or not. Stuart Alan Jones, world's greatest train expert. "Come back here."
Stuart straightened up, peeling the glasses off and fixing him with a cocky look that chilled him, even in the late-afternoon sweltering heat. "You come over here." Arm slightly extended. Challenging.
Without meaning to, Vince flashed back to the wedding, and all by themselves his feet were carrying him over the loose stones and to Stuart's side, even as his mother's voice in his head said, "if Stuart jumped into the canal, would you?"
Because yeah. He would have. Still would.
"See?" Stuart said. "Nothing coming. We'd hear it. Jump out of the way."
Oh, God. "No! Stuart, we are getting in the car and we are driving on. We are not playing bloody chicken with trains."
It said something that as forceful as his statement was, there was absolutely no hope behind it that he'd be listened to. Stuart stepped towards him, smirking. Look four hundred and fifty-five. Let's be a cunt and make Vince suffer.
"Christ, I love it when you boss me around."
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, fuck off."
Stuart spun on his heel and made for the tunnel again. "Go on, then, back to the car. Reckon there should be a train through here in a couple of minutes. I'll stay here and…"
He didn't get to say what he'd do, because Vince grabbed him by the wrist and physically dragged him off the tracks. Not that Stuart resisted much; he'd probably been half-serious about liking it when Vince bossed him around, twisted bastard.
Stuart laughed. Vince didn't. He dimly realised he was still holding on to Stuart's arm, but didn't let go.
"What?" Stuart challenged. "Are you scared?"
"No," he said honestly.
Look eighty-nine. A rare one. Surprise, maybe a flicker of uncertainty, quickly replaced with...
Except he didn't know that one, because he didn't think he'd ever seen it before. Not directed at him.
"Always saving me," Stuart murmured, and how'd they gotten so close together? His shirt was sticking to him; had to be the heat, except he was cold, suddenly. Freezing, and when Stuart kissed him (or he kissed Stuart, one or the other, because they went from two inches apart to no inches apart while his brain was off doing something else) the heat flooded back.
Neither of them noticed the ground shiver beneath them or, a second later, the roar of the train.
END
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on 2004-01-18 04:00 am (UTC)no subject
on 2004-01-18 04:15 am (UTC)