Two Luau Drabbles
Title: White Picket Fence
Rating: PG
Pairing: Jack/Sawyer
Summary: Sawyer considers things post-island.
Disclaimer: Lost is property of ABC. I am in no way claiming ownership of any characters involved. I intend to receive no monetary benefit from this work and intend no copyright infringement.
Notes: For inthekeyofd at the Luau who requested Jack/Sawyer, affection and white.
White Picket Fence
It's just an unfortunate coincidence that the bounds of their lawn (typically suburban, golf course neat and chronically over watered) happen to be surrounded by a white picket fence- at least that's what Sawyer tells people before they have the chance to ask.
So maybe they're a little more tame these days than he'd like to admit- Jack with his white collar job and Sawyer with his puttering around the house, reading books and reorganizing sock drawers for the hell of it. Not to say he doesn't get restless every now and then, drive out to the coast and stare out at the water's edge on the horizon, considering a lost sense of adventure, sand and the taset of mangoes- a taste he's sure he'll never get out of his mouth. But the salty air is uncomfortably cold, and the sound of the city far too loud. So he comes home, to Jack and a house and two car garage and that damn white picket fence.
Title: Calling in Sick
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Jack/Sawyer
Summary: Sawyer convinces Jack to play hooky.
Disclaimer: Lost is property of ABC. I am in no way claiming ownership of any characters involved. I intend to receive no monetary benefit from this work and intend no copyright infringement.
Notes: For southernwolfe who requested TLC for Jack.
Calling in Sick
"Sawyer, I really don't think it's neccessary."
Lips trail steadily up the length of his torso, pausing to tongue a nipple, then again to suck on that spot right above his collar bone - oh. "Well, I think it is, Doc. You've been sniffing up a storm all week long."
"It's just allergies, I've had them forever-"
"You're playing hooky then. Now, throw on your best sick voice and pick up the phone." The lips continue in an unbroken line up his neck, the side of his face, across his forehead and down his nose to hover not even an inch over Jack's lips. "I don't see you reaching for that phone, Doc."
Rating: PG
Pairing: Jack/Sawyer
Summary: Sawyer considers things post-island.
Disclaimer: Lost is property of ABC. I am in no way claiming ownership of any characters involved. I intend to receive no monetary benefit from this work and intend no copyright infringement.
Notes: For inthekeyofd at the Luau who requested Jack/Sawyer, affection and white.
White Picket Fence
It's just an unfortunate coincidence that the bounds of their lawn (typically suburban, golf course neat and chronically over watered) happen to be surrounded by a white picket fence- at least that's what Sawyer tells people before they have the chance to ask.
So maybe they're a little more tame these days than he'd like to admit- Jack with his white collar job and Sawyer with his puttering around the house, reading books and reorganizing sock drawers for the hell of it. Not to say he doesn't get restless every now and then, drive out to the coast and stare out at the water's edge on the horizon, considering a lost sense of adventure, sand and the taset of mangoes- a taste he's sure he'll never get out of his mouth. But the salty air is uncomfortably cold, and the sound of the city far too loud. So he comes home, to Jack and a house and two car garage and that damn white picket fence.
Title: Calling in Sick
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Jack/Sawyer
Summary: Sawyer convinces Jack to play hooky.
Disclaimer: Lost is property of ABC. I am in no way claiming ownership of any characters involved. I intend to receive no monetary benefit from this work and intend no copyright infringement.
Notes: For southernwolfe who requested TLC for Jack.
Calling in Sick
"Sawyer, I really don't think it's neccessary."
Lips trail steadily up the length of his torso, pausing to tongue a nipple, then again to suck on that spot right above his collar bone - oh. "Well, I think it is, Doc. You've been sniffing up a storm all week long."
"It's just allergies, I've had them forever-"
"You're playing hooky then. Now, throw on your best sick voice and pick up the phone." The lips continue in an unbroken line up his neck, the side of his face, across his forehead and down his nose to hover not even an inch over Jack's lips. "I don't see you reaching for that phone, Doc."