Nov 17, 2023
GAYS FOR THE WIN
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GAYS FOR THE WIN
Intoxication - Gainesgoe (Ross Gaines X Joseph Lisgoe)
“How much did you say?”
“Two grand. Two fucking bricks!"
Upon these words, Ross’ glance averted to the three gambling machines shamefully stuck in the corner of the pub. It was easy to tell that the owner wasn’t proud of the purchase. The idea that someone in that meaningless little town would actually want that amount of money (knowing they could never pay it off ; the jobs in Royston Vasey could never suffice) baffled him. Ross pitied the man, but simultaneously, he commended him for having the courage to request that amount from Lisgoe.
The two had crossed paths a few days ago, with thanks to the small sum of money Ross had owed Lisgoe ; Ross was austere and logical, he knew how to handle money, but living in Royston Vasey, you’re bound to owe a debt or two at any given point. And if you weren’t paid a visit by his two incompetent henchmen, you would be visited by Mr Lisgoe himself. And he was much less forgiving than them.
So why was Ross sitting next to him in the pub, surrounded by several empty glasses and an anxious waiter constantly waiting to pour their next drink?
Matter of fact, Lisgoe wondered that as well. Almost every encounter he had with people who wouldn’t cough up on time didn’t end on such a positive note. There must have been something about the brunette man that made him grow a fondness towards him.
Perhaps it was his indifferent nature. Or his abrasiveness upon being demanded so harshly, while others would have probably shit themselves.
The debt collector blamed these uncouth thoughts on his inebriation.
“Do you want me to pay? I wouldn’t mind.”
Ross’ offer was quickly overshadowed by Lisgoe silencing him. “Nah. No need. Poor bastard can’t repay the debt with cash only, so-”
“So you’re taking drinks for free.”
“Shut up! I’m fucking getting there.”
Lisgoe took another sip of the bitter absinthe spirit, wiping away any careless alcohol that beaded at the corners of his mouth. “That skittish cunt almost dragged us down with him, with how much he owed me. This ain’t stealing, Ross. This is the price.”
Ross felt no need to question him further. He was smart enough to understand the other’s logic, but also read his drunken, antsy mood. “Fair enough.”
A brief silence.
“If I knew I could get free drinks from it, I would have become indebted to you a long time ago.”
Lisgoe processed the joke and chuckled hoarsely, running his thumb across the rim of the glass. “Yeah, well, don’t get too cosy. This was just by chance.”
“That so?”
“Mmh.” His confirmation was muffled by another sip. From their conversation, Ross had concluded that this was most definitely not going to be the only time they crossed paths. The mutual feeling of interest was too strong for them to just turn round and not see each other again. And it was definitely not the first time, either ; their prior encounter was rocky. A lot of demanding and shouting ensued from Lisgoe alone. But something must have clearly triggered for the two of them to end up sitting on Ross’ sofa, watching Dexter for what felt like a very fast hour.
Lisgoe wasn’t a shit debt collector. He was just shit with Ross.
“You really confuse me, Ross Gaines.”
“I’m aware.”
-------------------------------
The streets of Royston Vasey that night were weirdly bleak.
The occasional lamppost would emit a luminescent glow onto the quiet shops, and (on the off chance that one would appear) no car would dare sputter its engine and interrupt the tranquillity of 1 in the morning. Would anything dare to do such a thing?
Ross and Lisgoe, apparently.
The two faces, beyond inebriated at that point, stumbled from the doors, catching each other before either took a fall to the pavement.
“Fucking ‘ell,”
The useful input from the debt collector rang through the street, as a pale hand ran through his slicked, black hair. With enough hairspray, it remained intact. The wind was less forgiving on Ross’ hair, however. But somehow, it still looked fine, perhaps even better, if Lisgoe could daresay.
“Can’t drive back like this.”
“Why not?”
“Maybe because it’d be illegal.”
“Prissy prick."
“Can’t drive n’nyway. We walked here,” Ross would look about, using Lisgoe’s frame to prevent himself from coming face to face with the pavement. “Barbara’s prolly asleep b’now, as well.”
“Bah. We can walk.”
“Hardly.”
Regardless, they’d try their best to brave the awkward, drunken walk back to their houses. The two would share a sporadic conversation every now and then, but for the most part, they just listened to a deafening silence. The cool breeze complimented the burning intoxication in their throats whilst the wind would numb every speck of exposed skin. It was safe to say that it had been a long time since either of them had experienced such a cold comfort, as the silence indicated that they were revelling in it for as long as they could.
“Joseph.”
Ross looked back up wearily. “Pardon?”
“‘S m’name. Joseph.”
In that moment, Ross was taken aback by the sudden vulnerability being displayed by the hard shell of a man. But it didn’t taint the conversation. Not one bit. “Then I must say, ‘s been good to meetchoo, Joseph.”
Ross’ drunken unintelligibility drew out a raspy laugh from Joseph, who sighed with surprising content as the atmosphere returned to the comfortable silence. Minutes passed, before they stood before the apartment building belonging to the brunette.
“I’m gonnuh’ b’fucking shattered,” Lisgoe managed to spit out groggily, eyeing the complex behind them briefly. Ross pondered for a moment ; he had no idea whether it was the alcohol talking, but regardless, the next thought he had escaped his lips.
“You cuhn’ stay f’the night. On the sofa. F’you’d like.”
“Course not, fucking Mother Teresa.”
Ah.
For the first time that night, he must have misread him.
Rather than feeling embarrassed, he instead felt an appreciation for his erratic nature. A feeling which completely clouded his intoxicated mind.
As Lisgoe began to trudge off, the brunette spoke up again.
“This wonh’ be our lass encounter. Y’know that, don’ you?”
He stopped for a moment and glanced back with a mere shrug. “S’ppose yer right.”
They were both drunk. Equally drunk. But there was a tang to his response that felt very much genuine, as much as sober Lisgoe would have hated it.
No goodbyes were shared. No farewells were bid. But perhaps it was because it just wasn’t necessary.
It felt… good. For a change.
Ross exhaled deeply, as if he had forgotten to breathe for a moment, before withdrawing into the apartment.
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first time writing in ages!!
quite chuffed with it actually, might write some more of them. take both art pieces I've done of them so far too
YOOHOO
Not a single clue how tumblr works but for the sake of this little community I'll figure it out
Might post some of my edits from tiktok, but also art and maybe even drabbles / stories (gainesgoe I mean gainesgoe I mean g)
Coincidental - Gainesgoe Fic part 4
No words in the English vocabulary could have described just how Ross was feeling, following the arrest of Pauline Campbell-Jones.
Maybe if it wasn’t for his role as a hostage in the scenario, he would have been much more pleased about the outcome. But he was just tired. Dishevelled, hungry and aching just a bit from having his hands tied behind his back.
It was the evening by then. As he stepped out of the doorway to the police station, he basked in the gentle fog, its mist cooling him down after a heated conversation between him and the newly imprisoned Pauline. It was refreshing to finally have her out of the picture, even if it was just temporary. But even then, that was in his control ; if he needed her, he could have easily just beckoned her whenever he wished.
He liked being in control.
But as of that moment, the only thing beyond his control was his energy. By that point, his only desire was to just get home.
The brunette dragged himself through the street, mindlessly glazing his eyes over the gravel beneath him. He found himself to be in quite a weary headspace, but he was hardly drunk off fatigue. The jet lag he was experiencing mixed weirdly with random courses of adrenaline throughout his body.
He needed to take his mind off it somehow, before he ended up being sick.
And almost coincidentally, he encountered a perfect opportunity.
Once the presence of another person in the street attracted his attention, his glance averted to the bench in front of him, and there appeared to be someone sitting in utter silence. Someone who clearly wasn't aware of Ross’ presence. Someone who possessed a smell he was almost too familiar with.
The brunette halted in his tracks, walking around the bench and seating himself next to Lisgoe with a defeated huff.
The debt collector showed very little response to this, only turning his head so he could get the full picture of Ross underneath the street light. “Didn't know the stick up your ass let you stay out so late.”
“I didn't have much of a choice.”
“Don't suppose you did.”
Ross furrowed his brow, glancing in the direction of Lisgoe wearily. “So you knew?”
“What, you think I did it or something? Fucking hell.”
“Obviously not what I meant. You being here wasn't a coincidence, was it?”
Lisgoe didn't reply. Rather, he folded his arms, looking off into the street before him. Ross nonetheless persisted. “Lisgoe-”
“Shut up.”
“Joseph.”
Now with his attention drawn, he glanced back, unfolding his arms and maintaining a brief period of eye contact. Ross continued.
“Even if you were the one to hold me hostage, I don't think I'd mind all that much.”
Joseph's shallow breathing rang through his raspy laugh of uncertainty. “You've got a fucking imagination on you, haven't you?”
“Is that such a bad thing?”
Another silence.
“No. No, it's not.”
Lisgoe’s words gradually became lost to the air as he felt against a rush of helplessness, an intruding course of warmth that left him pressing his lips against Ross’, who didn't take long to melt into it. It started soft and sweet, but it wasn't gentleness either of them wanted. It was the sort of kiss that as it grew rougher, they felt as if every square inch of their bodies dissolved into one another. Lisgoe's fingers gripped the back of Ross’ nape as if his life depended on it, as their tongues intertwined for what felt like an eternity to them. Only a few seconds into low groans and wandering hands, they untangled from one another at the same time, pulling away and fighting for their breath.
As their chests rose and fell in an irregular pattern, Lisgoe’s head fell backwards, and he finally managed to force out some words. “What the fuck happened?”
No response came from Ross. But once he recollected his breath, he stood up, weak kneed and at a brief loss for words. A shaky hand fumbled for his suitcase, and once he finally had a firm grip on it, he returned his gaze to the bewildered debt collector.
“Let's… Talk about this another time. Tomorrow.”
“What's there to say?”
Ross had never heard him talk with such a pacific undertone. “Nothing. Not right now.”
His words followed with Lisgoe shaking his head in response. “I was right to be confused, wasn't I?”
“You might be,” Ross shrugged, running a hand through his now dishevelled hair. “But I know I've made up my mind.”
For the first time, it was Ross who left Lisgoe without a goodbye. Still trying to maintain a steady breathing pattern, he felt his chest pocket, to which he drew out a leaf with a huff of confusion. It remained clenched in his fist as he pushed himself off the bench, leaving it to stand alone under the dim glow of the street light.
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never written a kiss before very nervous LMAO, once again thank you so much for the lovely comments on my last post I really do appreciate it 😭🫶🫶🫶
October & The Visit - Gainesgoe Fic part 2 and 3
A tree with no leaves in the autumn.
When you’re walking by and you see a tree out of the corner of your eye, you don’t tend to acknowledge it. Walk into a tree, you acknowledge its presence but you swiftly resort to cursing it out. Some people who like trees may stop to admire it for a moment, especially if it's their favorite genus.
Ross encountered a tree that caught his attention on multiple occasions. It was quite a calloused tree. Brusque, even. Despite its sharp, vindictive surface, he still wanted to run his hands down its vitriolic trunk, feeling every curve and crevice that it had. He wanted to know the tree inside and out. He wanted to be selfish. He wanted to have the tree in his empty, fruitless garden so, in the fullness of time, he would be satisfied.
Initially, he never would have gone for such an abrasive tree.
In fact, he probably would have never been interested in any tree until he crossed paths with this one. Especially not one with rough edges or tattoos, or even…
“Are we still talking about trees, pet?”
He looked up at the reverend, shaking his head and tracing his thumb across his other hand. “No. I don’t think we are.”
“Thank the Lord. As if my day hasn’t been enough of a clusterfuck, I just thought you were just some nutter who wants to have sex with a stump.”
“Don’t think that’d be very pleasant,” Ross muttered in more of a ribbing tone. Bernice would let out a chuckle in response, standing up from the pew and lifting the small glass of sherry off of the poorly balanced Bible.
“Well, I can’t blame you, dearie. Majority of the lookers in Royston Vasey are cunts, but you best hurry up and get with one of them. You can at least try to change them, but you’ll never be able to change an inbred monkey who wipes their shit on the walls.”
Ross would actually consider this vulgar advice with a hum. He stood up and flung his khaki jacket over his arm, finalizing his decision. “Yeah. Cheers, Reverend.”
And with that, he bid his farewell and pushed himself through the rustic church doors.
Her advice wasn’t the most professional, he was aware of that. But for some strange reason, it somewhat made sense. As he walked, he took the time to slip his jacket back on, initially intending on just walking back home. But almost as if he was enticed by it, he took a different route. One slightly more rural and less riddled with maniacs. Autumn did a fine job at filling the silence with the sound of wind in his ears and dead leaves succumbing to his merciless step. Ross took his time, grazing over each and every tree that lined the old boulevard with a newfound interest.
With each tree he passed by, his walking speed decreased, until he drew to a halt, biting the inside of his lip for only a brief amount of time before he took action. He drew his phone out of his pocket and continued his journey home, holding the phone up to his ear once he had dialed a specific number.
A few seconds passed.
“...Hello? Yes, hi, I was wondering if I could take out a loan..Yes. 100 pounds. Actually, best make it 200.”
—----------------
Ross anticipated this day.
Matter of fact, he positioned himself on the sofa closest to the door, eyes aimlessly running over the outrageous articles splayed across the damp paper. Each headline meant nothing to him, for all he thought about in his head was how he was going to carry out the remainder of his petty little plan. Two hundred pounds would surely be enough to summon him after a couple of days. While it was a more merciful amount compared to the 2,000 the bar owner foolishly took out, he actually considered going all the way and taking a loan of ten grand. Of course, he didn’t fall through with this ; he only wanted to be paid a visit. Not to be murdered on his doorstep.
Settling with 200 might have been a good idea. He wasn’t quite certain.
About an hour or two passed, and the clock was just ticking over 4:32pm. By this point, Ross decided to save himself from the crippling boredom and actually get some leftover work done.
But as his pen hovered over the previously empty slate of paper, there came the graceless knock on the door, and almost immediately, Ross pushed himself off the sofa, flattening any creases on his dressing gown and pressing the mic down. “Doorbell works, you know.”
“Ohh! I didn’t notice that there! Fancy that!”
If there was one thing the brunette realised, it was that voice did not belong to Mr Lisgoe.
It was shrill. Perhaps a little bit annoying to listen to. It had a particular tone that you would expect from a dunce in a film. Ross, fairly disappointed, took a moment to actually look into the camera, being met with a large, simple looking man. Behind him stood someone who was more lanky in frame, and possibly just at least a bit more intimidating than the fat one. But that was hardly an achievement.
No. Neither of them could have been Lisgoe. Or so he hoped. Maybe his drunk thoughts deceived him.
Regardless, he buzzed them in, but only peeked his body out of the door a little. Once he arrived outside, the man, already breathless, began to rummage through his pocket before drawing out a crumpled piece of paper.
“All right! Says here you owe about 200 quid, so if you could-”
“Sorry, who said that?”
The two looked at each other in confusion. Ross’ tone of voice remained monotonous, whilst finally, the lanky one spoke up himself.
“Look mate, we’re not playing about. It’s been days, and really, someone with such a lovely apartment should be paying up quickly.”
Ross shook his head, closing the door a little bit more to stop either of them from trying to get any more prying glances into his private domicile. “If this was so important, I don’t see why they would send tweedle dee and tweedle dum to my door. How do I know that you’re both real loan sharks, and not trying to con me?”
“Ah-ah! Debt collectors. We don’t like the name loan shark, do we, Glenn?”
“Frankly, I don’t care what you prefer. I think you’re wasting my time.”
“We’re not-”
“I’m closing the door now.”
“Wait!”
The larger one used his weight to keep it open, which almost baffled Ross a bit. He was very close to just paying them so they could leave him alone.
“Barry, leave it mate, he might not-”
“What will it take!?”
Barry and Glenn were now both just staring at the brunette with earnest appeal. Uncomfortably, he adjusted his glasses and folded his arms, now leaning against the frame of his door. “I want you both to bugger off and send your boss.”
They exchanged a nervous glance. “No, I don’t think you’d want-”
“Cheers, bye!”
Following his farewell, Ross managed to force the door shut, locking it and smiling audaciously before returning to the sofa.
As predicted, it didn’t take long before the brunette was greeted with a much harsher knock, but it failed to waver his decision as he made his way back to the door. He was certain who it was, and so just buzzed him in without any need for introductions.
The familiar, unimpressed face of Mr Lisgoe was in fact at the door ; it was safe to say he wasn’t in his best mood. He had one arm leaning against the door, and the other positioned on his hip. The hand in his pocket tucked his jacket out of the way, so Ross could see (and possibly appreciate) his figure more clearly.
“I’m starting to think you’re just taking the piss out of me now,” Lisgoe spat.
“Sorry you feel that way.”
“A few drinks and a walk outside doesn’t mean you can take out 200 quid from my pocket and tell my men to bugger off. Do I look like your fucking sugar daddy?”
His husky, gravelling tone of voice accentuated by his thick Northern accent echoed throughout the brunette’s apartment, but like always, he did not waver one bit.
“You know, I never took you for an idiot, Lisgoe. Not until now.”
“You fucking what?”
“I haven’t spent a dime. I don’t need it.”
Lisgoe scrunched his brow in confusion, rendered speechless by the logic he was hearing. Meanwhile Ross would walk back into his apartment, leaving the door open enough to be considered an invitation inside. However, the debt collector didn’t falter from his position. Rather, he stood waiting, allowing his eyes to glaze over the portion of the flat he could see from his perspective. It was very suave. The cool undertones of the walls perfectly reflected the part of Ross’ personality he actually admired the most.
He really needed to stop thinking of him in that way.
The brunette shortly returned with a stack of money, leaning against the frame once again with that same irritating, monotone look. “Don’t get me wrong, I could do with two hundred quid. Everyone could. But actually, I just wanted to talk. To you. Sober.”
These words had Lisgoe thinking, as if you could actually see the cogs turning in his mind. Once it had processed, an unsure, coarse chuckle was what broke the silence.
“Are you having a laugh?”
Course he wasn’t. It didn’t take a lot of mind to see that Ross was dead serious, and so was the expression on his face. As this realisation came to be, Joseph’s laugh swiftly reduced down to a humoured smirk. “Wow. Shit, you really aren’t pulling my leg. Well,”
He followed these words by forcefully pulling the money back into his own hands, holding it up for Ross to see again. “This is not your plaything, Gaines. You don’t get to take it whenever you please.”
“Maybe if it was easier to talk to you, I wouldn’t have had to do that.”
“Why do you want to know me so fucking bad?”
“Same reason you want to know me.”
There was an uncomfortable pause.
Lisgoe shook his head slowly, letting out a deep huff before fumbling in his pocket. Out he drew a pen. Ross noted this, and went to step indoors. “I can grab you some pape-”
“No need.”
He used his free hand to grab Ross’ jaw quite abruptly. Ross quickly tensed up, and his hand raised, but only to hold onto Lisgoe’s wrist, putting up almost no fight in response. However, instead of going for the option Ross desired deep down, he began to scribble down something quickly across the skin of his neck. The pressure of the tip lightly dug into his jugular, but not enough to cause much harm. Soon after, Lisgoe let go, stuffing the pen back into his pocket. “You want to know me so bad? Start with that.”
If Ross denied not receiving a small sensation from that moment, he would have been lying.
Yet again, there was no goodbye.
Once Ross shut the door, he made his way over to the mirror so he could actually get a sense of what was written : the initials ‘JNL’ and a phone number.
What a character.
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Still can't comment or reply but thank you so much for the support on my last gainesgoe fic mwah LUV YALL hope u like this one
long ass gainesgoe fic
So if you remember my past few fics and you're wondering why I haven't posted it's cus they're all actually parts to one big fic‼️
And I've finished it! There are a few times kips, hopefully they're obvious.
Warning: nsfw at some point 🗣
“How much did you say?” “Two grand. Two fucking bricks!” The chiselled man stuck up two of his fingers, clearly not intending the rude gest
much thanks to @9leaguesofmirrors (hope you don't mind the tag) i decided to do a wee doodle of gainesgoe cus I love their dynamic despite having never met 🫂
little bit inspired off of one of their fics ^^
I CAN COMMENT
VERY overjoyed about this
also while I'm here I noticed that I haven't made any gainesgoe in a while so very sorry about that, will get onto it soon!! Gives me a good opportunity to start exploring the deeper side to their relationship 🫡