Chapter Text
Vincent beamed as he entered the house. Irene mentioned earlier that she would drop by, and since he was running later than expected, she was probably already there.
“That’s IT, Irene! I can’t take it anymore! The way he touches me, how he looks at me...bloody hell, even the damn way he SMILES at me, I, I-I just can’t take it anymore!” cried Eugene.
Vincent’s foot froze, hovering just above the first step of the staircase. Not daring to breathe, he silently set it back down. Neither Irene or Eugene must have heard him come in.
“Eugene, you don’t mean that. I know you don’t mean that.”
Her icy-cool tone sent a shiver down Vincent’s spine. Despite the sudden, sharp stab of pain coming from his already genetically-damaged heart, he still feel somewhat fortunate that he wasn’t on the receiving end of her wrath.
Vincent swelled with fondness and admiration towards Irene for reprimanding Eugene, but it was bittersweet at best. There was nothing Irene could say that could make him fall in love with Vincent.
“Actually, I do. Sure, we’re friends and all that; but at the end of the day, that’s all we’ll ever be. Besides donor-and-recipient, of course.” Eugene paused briefly to let out a harsh laugh. “And the sooner he knows that, the better.”
Vincent could hear Irene trying to collect herself before tearing a new one into Eugene. Fighting the burning sensation in his eyes, Vincent briskly walked to the door, Irene’s angry response drowned out amidst his mind’s vicious whirlpool of Eugene’s words.
He ran blindly, not knowing where he was going but just needing to get away. Once the house was no longer in his field of view, he collapsed onto a bench, released a shaky breath, and dropped his head into his hands.
How could he have been so stupid? How could he have thought that there was even a chance that Eugene could like him back?
Vincent knew he had been a bit more affectionate with Eugene after returning from Titan. He knew he should have realized that he was being too greedy, but he just couldn’t help himself; Eugene’s touch was irresistible.
He found himself reminiscing more and more to their first real hug: when Vincent had just gotten back from Titan. His hand had still been hovering above the knob when Eugene had thrown the door open, tugged him down by the fabric of his shirt, and pressed him tightly to his chest. Like Vincent was someone actually worth holding.
It was...amazing. More amazing than even when he had been accepted into Gattaca after one DNA test, or when he had beaten Anton for a second time; and if he was truly honest with himself, equal in incredibility to seeing how small the planet that had condemned him to a second-class life really was from millions of miles away.
Chuckling ruefully to himself, Vincent mused over how if he had actually gotten a few hugs as a kid, he might have become a very different man than he was today. His own parents had never held him the way Eugene did. Or at all, really. And the only time Anton had ever embraced him was when the other option to holding his brother was drowning to death.
That didn’t exactly scream “love.”
Irene was the first person he was physically affectionate with. He loved her, and he still did love her, but in a different way now. She was his best friend, one of the very few people who knew and would ever know his secret. Thinking back to the instances with her in his arms, he was reminded of how her soft and slender figure fit perfectly. Vincent enjoyed that feeling, and would always happy to embrace her.
But that’s not what he needed. In all honesty, Vincent needed to be the one held more so than to hold. He needed Eugene’s bone-crushing embrace, to feel the older man’s strong grip over his shoulders and back.
Vincent had returned Eugene’s hug just as tightly after getting over his initial shock. When the two finally broke apart, he let Eugene usher him inside and mercilessly fuss over him, while openly snickering at his cynical remarks, including a golden, “Dear God, did they actually let their most sensible navigator, the man responsible for getting them off and back on this damn planet, starve in that traveling tin can? I was able to feel your ribs!”
Smiling softly at the memory, Vincent looked up, taking in the peaceful surroundings. A few kids were in the park, laughing together while playing Frisbee. Birds chirping in the trees, the soft breeze rushing through his hair; if he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that he was living the truth. That he was really Jerome Morrow, navigator first-class, tired but more inspired than ever before from his journey to Titan and back.
Maybe that was it; he had gotten so accustomed to living a lie that he had unconsciously done the same in his relationship with Eugene. Vincent had started acting like he was more than a close friend, but it was clear that he had gone too far.
He felt humiliated. He thought that he had been subtle, but any belief of that was dashed after hearing Eugene and Irene.
Right then and there, Vincent swore to himself that he wouldn’t bother Eugene anymore with his fruitless pining. Eugene had helped him achieve his life-long dream, for Christ’s sake. The least he could do in return was not make the other man uncomfortable in his own home.
Vincent sighed, then steeled his expression. It’s the best for both of us, he reasoned. It’s not like Eugene would miss any of it.
God, how did they even get here?