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Entry tags:
In Which We Burn, by halotolerant (PG)
Fandom: LIFE ON MARS
Pairing: Sam/Gene
Length: 2000 words.
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
halotolerant
Author Website: Unknown
Why this must be read: It's a sweet Sam/Gene slash story that doesn't try to mask the fact it's set in the prejudiced world of 1973's Manchester. In fact, it plays upon reader perceptions and understandings of what must be happening. It's very lyrical, with small details littered throughout, and a rhythm that flows over you as you read. It also has what I consider to be one of the most memorable images ever written in a Sam/Gene story. If I had to use one word to describe In Which We Burn, 'beautiful' would be it.
You have to blend in. Like the road. The long grey unremarkableness of it, like any road in any Northern city. From up in Sam's flat, looking down, its whole grimy length is visible, like a string of hairs pulled from the shower drain. In its sinuous twists from the car park to his tower-block it snares a pub, two off-licences, three chippies, the bench from which derelicts swear at pigeons, and a 'Specialist Bookshop'. Near the traffic lights comes the gloomy launderette. Sam idles away his Thursday evenings there, watching all six of his shirts spin round or gazing across the street at the ancient Salvation Army base, boarded up.
See, this is what he's realising. Slowly. Surely. Like groping out of murky water:
It is not that places are dull. It is not that places are foul. It is who you have with you.
It is…admit it, Sam. It is about being - or not - with Gene.
In Which We Burn
Pairing: Sam/Gene
Length: 2000 words.
Author on LJ:
halotolerantAuthor Website: Unknown
Why this must be read: It's a sweet Sam/Gene slash story that doesn't try to mask the fact it's set in the prejudiced world of 1973's Manchester. In fact, it plays upon reader perceptions and understandings of what must be happening. It's very lyrical, with small details littered throughout, and a rhythm that flows over you as you read. It also has what I consider to be one of the most memorable images ever written in a Sam/Gene story. If I had to use one word to describe In Which We Burn, 'beautiful' would be it.
You have to blend in. Like the road. The long grey unremarkableness of it, like any road in any Northern city. From up in Sam's flat, looking down, its whole grimy length is visible, like a string of hairs pulled from the shower drain. In its sinuous twists from the car park to his tower-block it snares a pub, two off-licences, three chippies, the bench from which derelicts swear at pigeons, and a 'Specialist Bookshop'. Near the traffic lights comes the gloomy launderette. Sam idles away his Thursday evenings there, watching all six of his shirts spin round or gazing across the street at the ancient Salvation Army base, boarded up.
See, this is what he's realising. Slowly. Surely. Like groping out of murky water:
It is not that places are dull. It is not that places are foul. It is who you have with you.
It is…admit it, Sam. It is about being - or not - with Gene.
In Which We Burn
no subject
I have to second that! This fic is one of my all-time favourites ♥
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