#thank yoooouuuu as always for the prompt!!! I love writing gary being like 'this is literally not a big deal'

[player1064]

back again with more carraville brain rot 😃 already out and very whipped carraville dealing with open homophobia from their own fans for the first time since coming out knowing it would happen eventually but not being as prepared as they’d thought they were, whether it’s just one or both of them up to you, lots of comfort of course and defense from either people at sky/class of 92 and extended mates etc. :)))))

had a hard time trying to work out the Vibe for this one bc like tbh I can't imagine fans being that bad like surely SURELY in 2024 they've moved on from the classic football homophobia... but then I remembered that people LOVE to hate Gary so of course they would. And Gary doesn't care about people hating him but Jamie is fussy and protective so he's getting all angry on Gary's behalf meanwhile he's out too and everyone is still lovely to him kdsgfjhkdsds.....

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Gary’s not exactly a stranger to getting abuse from the stands. It sort of comes with the job – his name has always been and will continue to be attached to his club, and for every football fan he meets that supports United he’s going to meet another five who hate his guts.

Besides, he was at one point the proud holder of the title ‘most hated footballer in England’. Any cruel chants people can come up with, he’s probably heard it before.

So the first time it happens, he doesn’t even notice.

He’s pitch-side for Monday Night Football, chatting about the upcoming game, when he sees a producer behind the camera shoot a worried look towards the stands before giving him the ‘cut’ gesture.

He’d thought he still had a couple of minutes, was only just getting into the swing of it, but he’s a professional so he winds it up quickly and lets them cut back to studio.

Once the light’s off on the camera, he takes his earpiece out and asks “what was’at about?”

The producer just stares at him for a second, astounded. She blinks, then says “the audio – the mics keep picking up noise from the stands, and obviously – we can’t air that sort of thing.”

With a while to go before kick-off, the stands are still only half-full, and for the first time all evening Gary takes a moment to actually listen to what the home supporters are chanting.

He’s not sure what he’s expecting, maybe to be called a cunt (which he’s always rather enjoyed), but this –

He turns to the producer but she’s on the phone, speaking in harsh whispers. After a minute or two, she strides over to Gary and holds the phone out, scowling.

“Carragher’s threatening to walk off set,” she tells him. “You try talk some sense into him.”

Gary takes the phone, walks a few steps away from the camera set-up and says “Carra, you muppet, what’s this I hear about you walking out mid-show?”

“Someone ‘as to do somethin’,” Jamie says, “Show the fans it’s not okay to –”

“Christ alive, ‘s hardly the first time in my life I’ve been called a fag, now, is it?” Gary says with a strained chuckle, though when he tries to think back he’s not entirely sure that’s true. Still, first time for everything. “An’ what’s you havin’ a hissy fit gonna achieve? It’s Leeds, Jamie, you know they like to try rile me up ‘ere. And you’re a five hour drive away, what exactly d’you think you can do right now, idiot?”

He hears Jamie’s breathing start to slow down. “’s not right, though.”

“Eh, maybe not. But I’ve had worse, and Sky’s not payin’ you a million a year to yell at rowdy fans, are they? So go park yer bum, apologise to David for your tantrum, and get on wit’ show. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

He hangs up, and hands the phone back to the producer with a nod.

“We’re good?” she asks, eyeing him carefully.

“We’re good.” There’s a dull ache starting to build at his temples. This, too, he’s pretty good at ignoring. He smiles. “About time to head up to commentary box, in’t it?”

*

Jamie wants to talk about it on the podcast the next day. Gary tells him to stop being so dramatic.

*

Except, turns out it wasn’t a one-time thing.

It’s funny, the fans mostly leave Jamie alone. It’s Gary they seem to have a problem with, like he, personally, is everything wrong with the world of football. It comes from both sides, too, the small minority who hate him for being gay and the so-called allies who criticise him for daring to come out when he should have known that it’d only aggravate the existing problems in football culture.

Again, Jamie gets none of this. Gary suspects this is because Liverpool is leading the league while United are still stuck mid-table.

He goes out to a pub with his friends one Saturday after Salford’s lost their latest fixture, and he leaves with a black eye.

That’s new.

*

“Put all the make-up on it you want,” Jamie complains while they’re getting set up for the next Stick to Football, “don’t hide the fact that yer eye looks half the size it’s meant to be.”

It’s really not that bad. Gary ignores him and lets the make-up lady continue to work her magic.

“Thoughtful of them to hit the side that’s faced away from camera, wouldn’t you say? ‘sides, it’s not even that bad.” He looks across the table and shrugs. “Is it, Roy?”

Roy’s glare is all the reply he needs.

“This doesn’t feel right, Gal,” says Wrighty, reaching out to touch Gary’s hand. “Are you sure you don’t want to – we’ve got a good audience, here, maybe talking about it would help.”

“This one weren’t even about the gay thing!” he argues. The other four around the table give him disbelieving looks. “It weren’t. It was just post-match frustrations, these things ‘appen.”

“But nobody ever tried to hit you before the fuckin’ gay thing, did they?” Roy says.

Gary sighs, exasperated. “I don’t want it to start a whole conversation, though, do I? Just want things to go back to normal.”

“I, uh,” Jill says, clearing her throat awkwardly. “I don’t think this one’s gonna just ‘go back to normal’, to be fair.”

Well, never let it be said that Gary can’t tell when he’s outnumbered.

“Fine,” he says, raising his hands in surrender. “Fine, we’ll talk about it. But I’m tellin’ you, it won’t change anythin’”

*

“No match commentary, for rest of season. Me as well. Studio only.”

“That’s a nonsense, Jamie, I can try talk them ‘round –”

“It were my idea.”

“James…”

Jamie’s looking at him, face set, stubborn as always. And he’s so stupid, sometimes, so naïve. Ready to go to war over something that Gary’s been treating like nothing more than a minor nuisance.

“You want things to go back to normal?” Jamie argues, voice steady. “Doesn’t get much more normal than me ‘n’ you in studio on a Monday night, does it? It’ll be like old times.”

God, but Gary loves this man.

“Thought they’ve been tryin’ to keep us apart, on screen,” he says lightly, trying for a smirk. His way of telling Jamie fine, you win this one. “Keep us from getting handsy, like.”

Jamie’s face breaks into a grin, his shoulders relaxing. “Speak for yerself, lad, I’m a professional. Think I can keep me hands to meself for an hour or two.”

“Professional my arse,” Gary says, taking a step towards Jamie. “I’d bet you couldn’t last ten minutes.”

Jamie, as if this somehow helps his case, places his hands on Gary’s hips and pulls him closer. Gary, who’s made no such promises of keeping his hands to himself, loops his arms around Jamie’s shoulders and uses one hand to gently bash the back of his head.

Jamie rolls his eyes with a fond smile and leans in to kiss him.

“Uh uh uh,” Gary says, leaning away from him. “Thought you were a professional, like, can’t go kissin’ your co-pundit where anyone might see.”

“You are such a bloody nightmare,” Jamie grumbles, and goes to kiss him again.

This time, Gary lets him.