Ficlet Series: Fistful Of Dollars
Holy crap, I've WRITTEN something. All for prompts from flashpoint_sru. :D
Title: Fistful Of Dollars
Author: eviltwin
Fandoms: Flashpoint
Pairing/Characters: Greg & Ed.
Rating: PG for kissing.
Wordcount: #1 - 400, #2 - 200, #3 - 400, #4 - 300
Summary: This job can make their home-life suffer sometimes. It's a good job they have each other.
Prompts : #1. Movies (weekend prompt), #2. Family (prompt no.3), #3. Chance (prompt no.8), #4. Kitchen (weekend prompt).
Disclaimer: None of the following is true in any way, and no profit is made from this work of fiction.
#1 [Movies]
Not many people are invited into Greg's home. It's like a sanctuary away from work, away from a different life. Somewhere he goes to both remember and forget. But tonight Greg needed the company so he asked Ed if he wanted to come over and watch a movie. He'd have asked Wordy too, but Wordy isn't the one in trouble with his conscience and, in turn, with his wife. He tells Ed to pick some films up and when they're done watching whatever they agree on, he'll cook. It sounds like a fair deal to both of them and he notices, when they leave HQ, that Ed doesn't turn off to head home first. The observation makes him feel a strange mix of guilty and pleased.
Ed arrives at Greg's place half an hour after he does. Greg has showered the day off already and is dressed in soft jeans that hang too long over his bare feet and a pale blue shirt that hangs loose. Ed is dressed in what seems to be his standard civilian clothes: black jeans, black boots, dark grey sweater and black coat. There was a time, back when they first met, that Greg had almost made a joke about him looking like an undertaker. After the difficult calls they've had to make over the years, he's kind of glad he never said it.
"What did we get?"
Ed holds up a large bag with 'BLOCKBUSTER' printed on the side. "Couple of choices and some beers."
"I have beer," Greg protests.
"But you're already making dinner. I only got a six-pack, anyway," Ed adds, moving past Greg to the lounge, where he dumps the bag and sheds his coat. He drapes it over the back of the couch and sits, reaching into the bag for the DVD cases. "We can either watch a mindless cop thriller and argue about how they always get it wrong or we can go with A Fistful Of Dollars."
"Clint it is."
Ed nods. It usually is. They both enjoy a good western. He opens a couple of beers while Greg sets the film playing and settles next to him on the couch. They are soon engrossed in it completely, comfortably sprawled. Unaware, really, of every place that their bodies are touching. It's nothing new, after all. They've known each other so long that things like that don't concern them.
#2 [Family]
When the credits start rolling they let them, though Greg does turn down the volume slightly so that they can talk through them.
"So what happened?" He inevitably has to ask.
Ed shrugs, takes a slug of his beer and swallows. "We argued. As usual. She was pissed because I was at work late, I was pissed because of what happened at work. Clark got pissed because we were fighting." He puts his beer down and scrubs his hand over his face, keeps it covering his mouth as he groans.
"Families are tough," Greg observes. "Tough to keep together. But you're doing a good job."
"Am I?" Ed asks, turning to look at him. "'Cause it doesn't feel like it today. This morning, before work? She told me that she doesn't feel like my wife any more. That she feels like I'm married to the job more and more these days."
Greg doesn't know what to say to that and stays quiet. He's not had a real family in so long that the team have become more like brothers and sisters to him. So he really can't pretend to sympathise with Ed on this one. He'd feel like a hypocrite.
#3 [Chance]
"It's the truth, Greg," Ed says, persisting. "She's right."
"No, she's-"
Greg would argue in spite of himself, but he can't. He can't argue because Ed has just that moment leant across and kissed him. Is still kissing him, in fact, and he's too stunned to move away or to push Ed away. It's Ed that ends it, only a couple of seconds after he started it.
"I'm sorry," he says, standing as he wipes his thumb across his bottom lip. Greg stands, because he can't really let that go.
"For what?"
Ed's eyes narrow as he frowns. He looks over at the TV screen, sees the last of the credits still rolling. "For... For that. For kissing-. Shit." He isn't sorry at all. He took a chance and Greg didn't knock him on his ass. He wraps his hand into the front of Greg's shirt, telling himself he's maybe about to take one chance too many. Telling himself he's testing a theory as he pulls Greg to his full height and kisses him again. It's so different from kissing Sophie. So different to how he thought this would go. Because Greg is kissing back. It's unexpected and it's clear that Greg is as surprised by his reaction as Ed is.
They catch their breath as they pull apart.
"You're not really sorry." It's not really a question, but Greg is looking up at Ed like he expects an answer anyway.
"Not really."
"Stay," Greg tells him.
"It's not like I was thinking of going home tonight. Soph, she's already mad at me. She won't want me showing up late, smelling of beer and-"
"Stay on one condition."
"Does this condition involve kissing you again?"
"Sort of. I was thinking more of you just stop talking first. We can work back up to the kissing."
Ed chuckles. "Did I ruin the mood?"
"No, but I did promise to fix you dinner."
"You did."
"Can't send you home without feeding you, either."
"You're sending me home?" Ed asks, confused.
"Depends on how dinner goes," Greg answers, and he understands again. They're both as nervous as one another about this and that's understandable. It's not like it's a thing that's been building up, or an issue that they've been dancing around for a while. This is just tonight; this is more like a shot in the dark and hope you hit something.
#4 [Kitchen]
Greg's heard the expression that the kitchen is where the magic happens. True, it's probably meant to apply more to chefs than to two guys from the SRU, but something happens and it feels pretty special to him. He's stirring sauce in the pan and it's almost as if he knows what's about to come because he tenses up just before Ed's arms wind around him.
"What're you doing?"
Ed rubs a hand gently over Greg's stomach, the shirt slipping up under his fingers. "I don't think I want to take no for an answer."
"If it helps, I don't think I want to give no as an answer. But I haven't actually figured the question out yet."
"Can we just act and figure it out afterwards?"
"Why?"
For just one word it is such a loaded question that Ed actually takes a step back. Greg turns to face him, wooden spoon still in hand and a hopeful expression on his face. It's what gives Ed his answer.
"Because we both want this to happen. Am I right?" Greg's quiet so Ed fills the silence. "I know that nobody tells you this often enough, but you could kick my ass if you wanted to."
"I could still do that."
"I'll take my chances," Ed replies and Greg thinks, good answer. Then Greg grabs a fistful of Ed's sweater and pulls him in as close as he can get him before kissing him again.
Dinner burns to the bottom of the pan and Ed gets luke-warm spaghetti sauce spattered on the back of his jeans where Greg grabs him, forgetting the spoon he holds, but neither man notices. Greg can buy new pots and Ed has other jeans. They're not necessities like this is. This holding on. This getting it right.
end
Title: Fistful Of Dollars
Author: eviltwin
Fandoms: Flashpoint
Pairing/Characters: Greg & Ed.
Rating: PG for kissing.
Wordcount: #1 - 400, #2 - 200, #3 - 400, #4 - 300
Summary: This job can make their home-life suffer sometimes. It's a good job they have each other.
Prompts : #1. Movies (weekend prompt), #2. Family (prompt no.3), #3. Chance (prompt no.8), #4. Kitchen (weekend prompt).
Disclaimer: None of the following is true in any way, and no profit is made from this work of fiction.
#1 [Movies]
Not many people are invited into Greg's home. It's like a sanctuary away from work, away from a different life. Somewhere he goes to both remember and forget. But tonight Greg needed the company so he asked Ed if he wanted to come over and watch a movie. He'd have asked Wordy too, but Wordy isn't the one in trouble with his conscience and, in turn, with his wife. He tells Ed to pick some films up and when they're done watching whatever they agree on, he'll cook. It sounds like a fair deal to both of them and he notices, when they leave HQ, that Ed doesn't turn off to head home first. The observation makes him feel a strange mix of guilty and pleased.
Ed arrives at Greg's place half an hour after he does. Greg has showered the day off already and is dressed in soft jeans that hang too long over his bare feet and a pale blue shirt that hangs loose. Ed is dressed in what seems to be his standard civilian clothes: black jeans, black boots, dark grey sweater and black coat. There was a time, back when they first met, that Greg had almost made a joke about him looking like an undertaker. After the difficult calls they've had to make over the years, he's kind of glad he never said it.
"What did we get?"
Ed holds up a large bag with 'BLOCKBUSTER' printed on the side. "Couple of choices and some beers."
"I have beer," Greg protests.
"But you're already making dinner. I only got a six-pack, anyway," Ed adds, moving past Greg to the lounge, where he dumps the bag and sheds his coat. He drapes it over the back of the couch and sits, reaching into the bag for the DVD cases. "We can either watch a mindless cop thriller and argue about how they always get it wrong or we can go with A Fistful Of Dollars."
"Clint it is."
Ed nods. It usually is. They both enjoy a good western. He opens a couple of beers while Greg sets the film playing and settles next to him on the couch. They are soon engrossed in it completely, comfortably sprawled. Unaware, really, of every place that their bodies are touching. It's nothing new, after all. They've known each other so long that things like that don't concern them.
#2 [Family]
When the credits start rolling they let them, though Greg does turn down the volume slightly so that they can talk through them.
"So what happened?" He inevitably has to ask.
Ed shrugs, takes a slug of his beer and swallows. "We argued. As usual. She was pissed because I was at work late, I was pissed because of what happened at work. Clark got pissed because we were fighting." He puts his beer down and scrubs his hand over his face, keeps it covering his mouth as he groans.
"Families are tough," Greg observes. "Tough to keep together. But you're doing a good job."
"Am I?" Ed asks, turning to look at him. "'Cause it doesn't feel like it today. This morning, before work? She told me that she doesn't feel like my wife any more. That she feels like I'm married to the job more and more these days."
Greg doesn't know what to say to that and stays quiet. He's not had a real family in so long that the team have become more like brothers and sisters to him. So he really can't pretend to sympathise with Ed on this one. He'd feel like a hypocrite.
#3 [Chance]
"It's the truth, Greg," Ed says, persisting. "She's right."
"No, she's-"
Greg would argue in spite of himself, but he can't. He can't argue because Ed has just that moment leant across and kissed him. Is still kissing him, in fact, and he's too stunned to move away or to push Ed away. It's Ed that ends it, only a couple of seconds after he started it.
"I'm sorry," he says, standing as he wipes his thumb across his bottom lip. Greg stands, because he can't really let that go.
"For what?"
Ed's eyes narrow as he frowns. He looks over at the TV screen, sees the last of the credits still rolling. "For... For that. For kissing-. Shit." He isn't sorry at all. He took a chance and Greg didn't knock him on his ass. He wraps his hand into the front of Greg's shirt, telling himself he's maybe about to take one chance too many. Telling himself he's testing a theory as he pulls Greg to his full height and kisses him again. It's so different from kissing Sophie. So different to how he thought this would go. Because Greg is kissing back. It's unexpected and it's clear that Greg is as surprised by his reaction as Ed is.
They catch their breath as they pull apart.
"You're not really sorry." It's not really a question, but Greg is looking up at Ed like he expects an answer anyway.
"Not really."
"Stay," Greg tells him.
"It's not like I was thinking of going home tonight. Soph, she's already mad at me. She won't want me showing up late, smelling of beer and-"
"Stay on one condition."
"Does this condition involve kissing you again?"
"Sort of. I was thinking more of you just stop talking first. We can work back up to the kissing."
Ed chuckles. "Did I ruin the mood?"
"No, but I did promise to fix you dinner."
"You did."
"Can't send you home without feeding you, either."
"You're sending me home?" Ed asks, confused.
"Depends on how dinner goes," Greg answers, and he understands again. They're both as nervous as one another about this and that's understandable. It's not like it's a thing that's been building up, or an issue that they've been dancing around for a while. This is just tonight; this is more like a shot in the dark and hope you hit something.
#4 [Kitchen]
Greg's heard the expression that the kitchen is where the magic happens. True, it's probably meant to apply more to chefs than to two guys from the SRU, but something happens and it feels pretty special to him. He's stirring sauce in the pan and it's almost as if he knows what's about to come because he tenses up just before Ed's arms wind around him.
"What're you doing?"
Ed rubs a hand gently over Greg's stomach, the shirt slipping up under his fingers. "I don't think I want to take no for an answer."
"If it helps, I don't think I want to give no as an answer. But I haven't actually figured the question out yet."
"Can we just act and figure it out afterwards?"
"Why?"
For just one word it is such a loaded question that Ed actually takes a step back. Greg turns to face him, wooden spoon still in hand and a hopeful expression on his face. It's what gives Ed his answer.
"Because we both want this to happen. Am I right?" Greg's quiet so Ed fills the silence. "I know that nobody tells you this often enough, but you could kick my ass if you wanted to."
"I could still do that."
"I'll take my chances," Ed replies and Greg thinks, good answer. Then Greg grabs a fistful of Ed's sweater and pulls him in as close as he can get him before kissing him again.
Dinner burns to the bottom of the pan and Ed gets luke-warm spaghetti sauce spattered on the back of his jeans where Greg grabs him, forgetting the spoon he holds, but neither man notices. Greg can buy new pots and Ed has other jeans. They're not necessities like this is. This holding on. This getting it right.
end