Work Text:
The day that Eugene loses everything-
No.
Begin again.
If Jerome Eugene Morrow were to dictate the story of how he fell slowly and softly for Vincent Freeman (an invalid deemed unworthy in the eyes of the genetically perfect) he'd tell you that it most certainly was not love at first sight.
When they'd met he'd taken one hard look at the invalid and scoffed.
Vincent had paid him for the use of his skin cells, urine, blood samples - to become him and standing before him was a very flawed (and shorter) man.
His skin was pale, his hair was choppy at best and he wore unflattering glasses (being that his eyes were inferior to Eugene's).
What a ludicrous plan. Vincent Freeman would never pass as him, Eugene was positive of that.
He'd had no qualms about making his disdain known. If Vincent were to become him then he'd need to stiffen his spine and let criticism roll off of him rather than scowling and growing angry which made his eyes a shade darker.
It was a damn shame that Vincent couldn't keep his own eye color, Eugene was rather fond of it.
Still.
Vincent Freeman absolutely wasn't growing on him.
He certainly did not grow closer to Vincent on day 224 over three shared bottles of vintage red wine at six in the afternoon.
Definitely not after Vincent had returned from his guise as Jerome Morrow.
Eugene had no legible excuse for the excessive consumption other than sheer bone deep loneliness but Vincent didn't need to know what effect his absence had on him.
He'd merely shrugged when Vincent shook the empty bottle and glared.
"Join me," Eugene slurred as he filled a wine glass to the top and nudged it toward Vincent who sat opposite him at the kitchen table.
"Don't you think you've done enough drinking for both of us?," Vincent snipped back.
All of the alcohol in the world couldn't chase away the guttural ache in Eugene's chest every time Vincent walked out the door. No, enough was never enough. Still he'd slowed down for the sake of Vincent's dreams.
Tainted urine would get him nowhere closer to his voyage to Titan. The thought of that pleased Eugene in a purely selfish way but in the end his body was the product and Vincent had paid good money for usage of it.
Eugene gave Vincent his most charming smile and maintained eye contact as he licked the wine off of his own lips.
He knew how to get under Vincent's skin and perhaps he enjoyed it more than he should but that was no matter. They were both fated to different paths no matter how much Eugene wanted him to stay, no matter how much he wanted to taste the bitter tang of wine on Vincent's lips.
With a sigh and a shake of his head Vincent accepted the wine. "I hate it when you drink alone," he remarked.
Three shared bottles and many hours later found them stretched out on Eugene's bed as Vincent talked about the stars as if they were sacred poetry and perhaps, to him, they were.
"What if we could go to Titan together? Y'know if that were...were possible. I'd take you with me, y'know. Should be you up there," Vincent slurred, voice coming out muffled as he buried his face in Eugene's pillow.
Lying like this Eugene could study the parts of Vincent that nothing could ever replace.
He imagined tracing the path of freckles along Vincent's neck with his tongue, skimming his hands over each blue vein, pressing his ear against the steady beat of Vincent's heart until he fell asleep.
It hit him then.
He wanted to be greedy for once in his life. He'd spent half a lifetime pleasing everyone else and doing as he was told, avoiding invalids and mingling with rich people who barely passed as human beings.
He wanted to keep Vincent Freeman.
It was a terrifying thought.
"Eugene?," Vincent questioned as he turned on his side, eyebrows furrowed in concern at Eugene's silence.
"Hmm?"
"Let's go together, okay? We'll have dinner on Titan every night and you can talk to me until I fall asleep. We'll take photographs and frame them when we get back then maybe do it again the year after. What'dyou say?"
Alcohol tinted Vincent's cheeks pink and his eyes sparkled with excitement as if his plan were in any way realistic. Looking at him hurt.
"I can't travel. It makes me nauseous," Eugene lied.
They both knew the truth of the matter. He was considered invalid in the eyes of those who called the shots. Eugene with his perfect DNA and flawless predispositions was useless to them due to his physical handicap.
Vincent scooted closer and grinned. "Okay then. Bring a bag with you. We'll bring ten bags if we need to."
He was talking nonsense and stitching together scenes from a life that would never belong to Eugene. If Vincent knew how much it bothered him, he wouldn't say another word about it. Eugene was in no mood to ruin his good mood so he decided to turn in early instead.
"Get some sleep. You have an early morning tomorrow," he replied, dryly.
Dream, he thought to himself. Dream of us and the beautiful future that we'll never have.
Vincent stared at him with such concentration that it made Eugene want to flee.
Having made up his mind on a decision that he hadn't voiced, Vincent clumsily lurched forward and pressed his lips to the right side of Eugene's mouth.
It took everything in Eugene to resist the urge to kiss him until they were both dizzy with it. As it was his skin tingled after he pulled away.
The corner of Vincent's mouth turned up as he smirked and straightened. "Goodnight Eugene."
"Night."
After he left, Eugene pressed his face to the pillow and inhaled.
Okay so maybe he wanted.
No one can hear you scream in space.
That's what a classmate had once told Eugene in elementary school when Eugene said that he'd only wanted to travel to Titan in order to find out if a person could hear an echo in the shuttle if they yelled on the way up or on Titan itself.
If he were to travel there tomorrow he'd scream until his voice grew raw. He'd scream out his frustration, his fears, his anger at feeling less than and when he was finished maybe he'd feel whole again.
Vincent would be there, of course.
He'd hold his hand and talk about how disappointing it was that such an echo didn't exist there.
He'd wax poetic about the majesty of Titan's sky and how beautifully the colors blended together and Eugene absolutely would not fall harder for him.
They were stretched out on blankets under the light of millions of stars when Vincent said it.
"I'd stay here with you." It came out so quietly that Eugene was sure that he misheard.
"Pardon?"
Vincent placed an arm under his head and kept his eyes on the stars as he spoke. "If you asked me to, I'd stay here."
The carefully uttered words made Eugene's head spin. Vincent had dreamed of taking a shuttle to Titan since he was a child, it was all he ever seemed to talk about.
Eugene couldn't do that to him. Some dreams were meant to fizzle out until they were nothing more than a wisp of smoke and then there were the dreams worth chasing. The latter had always belonged to Vincent.
"I wouldn't ask you to."
More than anything he'd like to. Surely Vincent knew this, he had to.
Vincent closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "What if I wanted you to?"
If Eugene were to paint a future for himself Vincent would be in every shade, in every version. He'd stand in the kitchen on the weekends and flip through astronomy books, would mumble facts about black holes and nebula's over tea as Eugene read the paper.
They'd buy a replica of Vincent van Gogh's Starry Night and proudly display it on the living room wall - it would breathe life into the sterile building.
When he thought of such a future he saw holidays that weren't spent drinking himself to death all alone and late night talks with Vincent about how utterly ridiculous the notion of perfection is.
When he stepped back to view the big picture he noticed that none of it was possible without Vincent, none of it was worth it. He felt himself tumbling further and further down the rabbit hole that led to Vincent Freeman and the harder he tried to un-love the man, the harder he fell.
Eugene blinked against emotions that he'd rather not voice. "Don't be absurd. You're meant for the sky, for Titan."
Vincent sighed and turned his face away from the splendor of the night sky. "Think about it, Eugene. A year is a long time. A lot can happen in 12 months."
Eugene was an excellent liar, always had been. He'd taught himself how to pull it off perfectly from the age of eleven when he'd sneaked a cigarette from his fathers study.
The consequence of such an act would've been a very long lecture and so he'd put on his bravest face, stiffened his back and lied straight through his teeth. His father had bought it hook line and sinker.
He'd only gotten better since then.
"You're right, it can. But how am I supposed to know about it if you don't go to Titan?"
Vincent rolled his eyes. "It's not like I can send you a letter, Eugene. You'd have to wait an entire year to hear about it. No offense but you don't have that sort of patience."
"And what about your dream? You've talked of little else since the day I met you and all of this would be for nothing if you remained on Earth." He paused for a moment before quietly adding - "With me."
Vincent shrugged. "There are trips to Titan nearly every week. I'll put it off for a later date."
Eugene studied the contours of his face, the way the moon seemed to reflect off of Vincent's cheekbones - he would miss these nights. They didn't occur often but they were treasured when they did. "Why, Vincent?"
In those two words he meant: Why would you stay with me? What makes me more important than the entire galaxy? Why would anyone want to keep Eugene Morrow?
Vincent turned on his side until they were facing one another and took Eugene's hand in his own. He traced a finger over the lines and creases, causing Eugene to shudder pleasantly.
"My mother used to say that holding someones hand was the closest to touching the sun as a person could get; that if you were to hold the wrong one you could end up with burns.
Not the physical sort but rather, the kind that keeps you awake at night.
And if you were to hold the hand of the person who is right for you, you'd have a similar feeling but it wouldn't hurt. You wouldn't want to let go."
Eugene fought the urge to snatch his hand away.
Despite having stellar qualifications and excellent genetics, he was not right for anyone. He'd only hold Vincent back if given the chance. Surely Vincent must feel that unpleasant metaphorical burn when he touched him and yet...he wasn't letting go.
Eugene aimed for a nonchalant tone as if none of this was having an effect on him, as if he wasn't already in over his head.
"I wasn't aware that your mother was a poet."
Vincent smiled and moved on to lightly run a finger along the back of Eugene's. "She's not. She's a romantic. When she and my father met they fell in love and didn't even consider genetics testing or perfecting DNA. They let everything naturally take its course and here I am. There's no gene for fate, right? Can't predict these things."
As they lay under the stars Eugene could almost pretend that they could stay right where they were as the world moved on around them.
They could stay.
Vincent could stay.
No.
Eugene pushed the idea out of his head as much as he could but it refused to budge.
"My mother is adamantly against the notion of fate. She finds such things to be beneath her. She once told me that people who do not control their own destiny are doomed to failure."
Vincent pressed his palm up against Eugene's and shook his head. "Sometimes things happen that are beyond our control. That's what makes life exciting; that we never know what's around the corner."
He was right. Eugene never could've predicted this. That he'd long for someone who had one foot on Titan and the other on Earth. Someone his parents would deem as unworthy and lacking sophistication, yet here he was with idealistic dreams and starlight in his eyes.
"I suppose."
Eugene spread his fingers and allowed Vincent to intertwine their hands. He wasn't sure where this was going but at the current moment he couldn't be bothered to care. That word was on the tip of his tongue but he couldn't spit it out - stay.
"Eugene."
"What?"
Vincent leaned in and pressed the lightest kiss to Eugene's lips and softly sighed against them before pulling back without saying another word or explaining his actions.
Eugene stared back, wide eyed. He felt as if his entire body were alight. This would break him someday, he was sure of it.
Loving Vincent was like moving closer and closer to a raging fire and telling yourself that the pain would be worth it in the end. Still, he continued to propel himself forward toward the flames, rather than away from them.
They didn't speak for the rest of the night and Vincent only let go of Eugene's hand when they parted ways at bedtime.
The day Eugene lost everything was a Monday and the sun was blindingly bright.
It seemed to mock him as he watched Vincent carry his small bag of belongings to the front door. Sunshine streamed through the windows and reflected against his cheekbones as it had once before.
It served as an unpleasant reminder of impending loss.
It should be storming, Eugene thought to himself. The roof should be dotted with hail and heavy raindrops. Thunder should pierce the sky and match the quickened pounding of Eugene's heart in his chest.
It should be a day for mourning.
The sunlight was hateful.
"I'll be back before you know it and we'll argue over your wine consumption and obscene love of cigarettes," Vincent promised.
He stood with one hand curled around the doorknob that led to a place that was devoid of everything associated with Eugene Morrow. Aside from the obvious skin cells, blood and urine that was necessary to take with him 'lest his true identity as an invalid be revealed. Fragments.
Eugene plastered on a smile he didn't feel and wheeled over to the door. "I look forward to it."
Vincent sucked in a deep breath and released as if he were attempting to calm himself.
That couldn't be though, no one could possibly be upset at the idea of bidding farewell to Eugene Morrow or at least that's how Eugene saw it.
"Goodbye Eugene."
"Before you go," Eugene began as he wheeled to the kitchen and retrieved a sealed envelope.
"What's this?," Vincent questioned as he turned it over in his hands. The name Jerome was written on the front in Eugene's elegant penmanship - a name that Vincent had settled on rather than to call himself by Eugene's middle name. His first one fit Vincent better anyway.
"Open it when you arrive," Eugene instructed.
Vincent couldn't know that there would be no return visits, no cozy goodbyes or flimsy arguments over nothing at all.
Eugene's future had been determined for years. He'd only remained alive for this long because he'd wanted to die as a noble man who'd done at least one good deed in his life.
He'd given Vincent his body, his heart, his entire life and by taking himself out of the picture Vincent could remain Jerome Marrow for the rest of his life and perhaps settle down with Irene. After all, she seemed to be more than interested in him.
The letter was his final goodbye along with a lock of his hair. Vincent would understand.
Vincent nodded and pocketed the envelope. "I'll see you when I return."
Eugene followed him to the door once more and pasted on a smile. "Of course. Goodbye Jerome."
Vincent turned on his heel. "Vincent. Just one last time...call me Vincent."
"Goodbye Vincent," Eugene replied with a sad smile.
Perhaps in some other life they could've been Eugene and Vincent, perhaps they could've made it.
Vincent returned the smile and bent at the knee, hooked a finger under Eugene's chin and kissed him.
This kiss was unlike the other two in that it lingered and they breathed one another in in a way that had no medical basis; no identity issue to address like collecting blood or saliva. It was purely for both the pleasure and the pain of leaving.
Time was an issue but you can only say goodbye to a person so many times before it begins to rip your heart in two and Vincent was never going to be ready to let Eugene go.
He sighed and walked away with nothing more than a wave.
__________________________________
Something wasn't right, Vincent could feel it in his gut.
He'd made it at least a mile away from their shared home when he'd decided to read the letter before take off. He ripped along the seal and tugged the letter out. A lock of Eugene's hair was enclosed as well as well as his version of a very final goodbye note written in black ink.
No.
This wasn't happening.
He felt sick as he instructed the driver to turn around and make haste.
Upon arriving, he shakily slid his key into the lock and let himself in. The first thing he noticed was the silence, the next was Eugene's empty wheelchair in the kitchen.
"Eugene!," he shouted as he frantically ran into the room.
The door to the incinerator was still open.
It held a very surprised Eugene who was sitting in its cramped quarters with the second place medal that he'd earned from a swimming competition prior to the accident around his neck. He'd never let himself live that particular failure down.
Vincent had that roaring sound in his ears where your blood seems to pump too loud, your heart too hard.
He carefully lifted Eugene out of the metallic box and onto his chair. "Is this how you planned on leaving me? You thought I'd be okay with coming back to an empty house, Eugene? That I'd be okay with waiting on you for an entire year only to find that you'd killed yourself right after I left?"
Eugene refused to meet his eyes; choosing to focus on the wall behind Vincent's head instead.
Vincent pounded a hand on the arm of the chair. "Answer me!"
"What do you want me to say, Jerome?," Eugene asked, quietly. His voice lacked the dripping sarcasm that Vincent had expected, the lack of remorse. Instead it came out hollow.
"Vincent, Eugene. The least you could do is call me by my real name."
Eugene stiffened in his chair and his walls went up. "Fine, Vincent. I apologize for inconveniencing you. I had no intention to." He glanced at his wrist watch then cold blue eyes stared back at Vincent. "Aren't you late for your trip?"
Vincent wanted to scream. He wanted to cry, wanted to punch Eugene Morrow in his perfect face for ever considering suicide and leaving him with nothing other than a fridge full of bodily fluids and skin cells as if he could ever be replaced.
Instead, he took a deep breath and closed the incinerator door, latched it.
"Your existence does not inconvenience me, Eugene. It never has. As for the trip, I can go at a later date."
Eugene clutched the wheels of his chair until his knuckles turned white - "You should go."
Vincent was tired of pretending that he wasn't crazy over Eugene Morrow. He'd barely managed to keep it in check as it were and clearly he'd been doing a better job at it than he'd thought.
He kneeled at Eugene's side and took his hand, flipped it over.
"It doesn't hurt, Eugene. Do you understand?"
Eugene had to understand how important he was, that his life had always mattered to Vincent.
He wanted to be holding his hand wherever life took them for as long as Eugene would let him. It didn't burn when he pressed their palms together, if anything it felt right in a way that it never had with Irene.
"You have Irene," Eugene stated as he attempted to free his hand.
Vincent held on tighter. "I have you."
Eugene refused to meet his gaze. He shook his head no as if he were trying to convince himself as much as Vincent that this was wrong; that everything had been turned upside down because Irene had a future to offer Vincent.
What did he have to offer? An emotionally broken man who had a penchant for alcohol and a flair for the dramatic. Nothing worth staying for.
Vincent took a deep breath and calmed himself for a moment before speaking. "Eugene, look at me."
With his free hand he placed it on Eugene's cheek and gently brushed his thumb over the mouth that he'd stolen kisses from a handful of times, hadn't kissed nearly enough.
Having given up on words that felt so useless right now he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Eugene's; licked across a full bottom lip until they parted. Eugene wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him in closer, angled the kiss until it was deeper - open mouthed for the first time.
Teeth met the plush pink of Eugene's bottom lip and he made a guttural sound. Vincent wanted nothing more than to carry him to bed and forget that any of this mess had ever occurred.
They were panting when he broke the kiss, forehead leaning against Eugene's and hands still clutching one another.
"You're my fate," he whispered.
Eugene's eyes were damp as he smiled and squeezed Vincent's hand.
Vincent would visit Titan in the future and with him he'd tuck a photograph of the two of them along the inside of his suit pocket and when he came home they'd argue over tea and trade kisses first thing in the morning.
There was no gene for fate but there was Eugene Morrow and that was more than enough.
__________________________________
The day that Eugene loses everything, it finds him.