Some Days Nothing Goes Right by Evildemandred, NC-17
Fandom: LIFE ON MARS
Pairing: Sam/Gene
Author on LJ: evildemandred
Author Website: N/A
Why this must be read:
It is widely recognised that I like dark!fic. The darker the better, normally. I just had to rec this piece because it was the one that nearly broke me. This had me hiding behind the sofa in terror, unable to tear myself away from the writing, but knowing what was coming. This is bleak and nasty and bitter. But, there again, not everything in life can be sweetness and roses.
This is set post-2.08, and contains descriptions of graphic violence and character death.
At one of the tables behind Gene Ray was leant in close to Chris, talking animatedly as they both grinned like schoolboys. Annie, sat opposite them and catching their conversion, was shaking her head, at once amused and disgusted.
Her eyes flicked over at them, sat alone in one of the booths, and she smiled as Sam’s gaze shifted away from Gene for a moment to meet hers. Daft soppy bastard. Gene patted his jacket pockets to find his cigarettes and pulled one out, lighting it as he waited for Sam’s attention to turn back to him.
The ciggie had the desired effect. Sam’s nostrils flared as he caught a whiff of smoke and his gaze travelled from where it hung from Gene’s lips up to his eyes, brows furrowing. "You work all bloody day in a smoke-filled office and can’t even wait two minutes to fill your lungs with it again."
Gene’s eyebrows raised. "It’s a pub," he replied, the cigarette bouncing as he spoke.
"Of course. Silly me," Sam shook his head. "Just wait until the ban comes in."
"Ban on smokes?" Gene snorted and tapped ash into the tray. "In your prissy daydreams, Tyler."
Some Days Nothing Goes Right
Pairing: Sam/Gene
Author on LJ: evildemandred
Author Website: N/A
Why this must be read:
It is widely recognised that I like dark!fic. The darker the better, normally. I just had to rec this piece because it was the one that nearly broke me. This had me hiding behind the sofa in terror, unable to tear myself away from the writing, but knowing what was coming. This is bleak and nasty and bitter. But, there again, not everything in life can be sweetness and roses.
This is set post-2.08, and contains descriptions of graphic violence and character death.
At one of the tables behind Gene Ray was leant in close to Chris, talking animatedly as they both grinned like schoolboys. Annie, sat opposite them and catching their conversion, was shaking her head, at once amused and disgusted.
Her eyes flicked over at them, sat alone in one of the booths, and she smiled as Sam’s gaze shifted away from Gene for a moment to meet hers. Daft soppy bastard. Gene patted his jacket pockets to find his cigarettes and pulled one out, lighting it as he waited for Sam’s attention to turn back to him.
The ciggie had the desired effect. Sam’s nostrils flared as he caught a whiff of smoke and his gaze travelled from where it hung from Gene’s lips up to his eyes, brows furrowing. "You work all bloody day in a smoke-filled office and can’t even wait two minutes to fill your lungs with it again."
Gene’s eyebrows raised. "It’s a pub," he replied, the cigarette bouncing as he spoke.
"Of course. Silly me," Sam shook his head. "Just wait until the ban comes in."
"Ban on smokes?" Gene snorted and tapped ash into the tray. "In your prissy daydreams, Tyler."
Some Days Nothing Goes Right