Lost Fic: "Free To A Good Home" (Jack/Sawyer, PG)
Title: Free To A Good Home
Pairing: Jack/Sawyer
Rating: PG for some mild language, implications
Length: 855 words
Notes: Okay, fine, so I'm already combining some prompts. I'm going to try not to, though, but this one just happened to line up. toestastegood wanted established relationships, and invisiblelove wanted some fluffy Jack/Sawyer, with a special emphasis on Jack.
Summary: "But Jack," Sawyer said, "it followed me home!"
“No way, Sawyer; no way.”
“Oh, excuse me, Mr. ‘I’m the man of the house’. I guess now you’re gonna start up with your ‘not under my roof’ and ‘I pay the bills around here’, huh?”
“That has absolutely nothing to do with it. Now stop trying to get out of this conversation by trying to pick a fight.”
Jack stares at the smelly mutt currently parked on the edge of their front hall carpet. It’s filthy, its shaggy brown and tan fur caked with dirt. Its claws are in bad need of a trim and it has a crooked kink in one ear.
It gazes up at Jack with big, stupid eyes, tongue lolling from the corner of its mouth. Its stumpy tale wags, thumping against the floor.
“Aw, see?” Sawyer gives a lopsided, dimpled grin. “He likes ya.”
“I’m pretty sure, under the layers of filth, that it’s actually a ‘she’,” Jack notes.
Sawyer waves a hand. “Whatever.”
“Sawyer,” Jack says again, seriously. “We are not keeping a dog.”
Sawyer’s face falls. He raises one hand, gaze dropping with something like embarrassment as he rubs the back of his neck.
“It followed me home,” he mutters, gruff.
He’s got that look again: the one that Jack knows he isn’t supposed to find adorable, but really he does.
Jack gives a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut as he kneads the bridge of his nose.
“Alright, look. We’ll take care of it for tonight, but as soon as we find someone else who wants it, or a decent shelter, it’s gone.” He looks up again, meeting Sawyer’s eyes. “Okay?”
Sawyer grins again, instantly brightening. “Sure,” he agrees, nodding.
Jack can’t stand the smell for much longer, so while Sawyer runs out to get some things for their “guest”, he takes the thing out back and attempts to give it a bath.
It’s easy enough filling the tub he found from the hose and coaxing the mutt in (possibly it’s tired of being dirty). He gets a decent scrub going, the dog panting happily as he lathers and works out the caked mud caught in its fur.
And then a squirrel bolts across the yard, and before he knows it the mutt has leaped after it, and he’s chasing a sudsy dog across the lawn until he slips on a patch of wet grass and goes down.
He lies there, listening to the neighbor kids laughing mockingly, and the dog comes back over and starts licking him in the face.
Sawyer returns with an awful lot of supplies for a dog that’s only supposed to be staying here a few days, a week tops. Like a big bag of kibble and some cans of wet food, and two bowls, a leash, a collar, some dog biscuits, a Frisbee, a rawhide bone and several chew toys.
“What?” Sawyer says, as if daring him to say something, as Jack watches him unpack the paper bags.
Jack only sighs. The dog comes and bumps its head against his leg, and he absently scratches it behind the ears.
After dinner, Sawyer takes it out back to play. “Come here, boy!”
“Girl,” Jack corrects him, again.
“Aw, whatever.”
Sawyer runs in circles and wrestles with the dog for almost two hours, until both are exhausted. Jack stands on the back porch and looks on, a beer in his hand.
He can’t help the faint smile that comes as he watches them roll on the ground together.
Later that night, when they’re in bed together and almost sound asleep, the mutt comes bounding into their room, barking.
Sawyer sits up with a groan, his eyes squinted. “Son of a bitch.”
“Yeah, not so cute now, is it?” Jack remarks. He halfheartedly waves at the dog. “Shhh, go lie down.”
It decides to climb up to join them instead.
“Aw, no!” Jack leans back, dismayed. “Come on now!”
“Let it go, Jack.” Sawyer gives him a reproving look, patting the dog along the spine. “What’s it gonna hurt?”
Jack rolls his eyes and sighs, heavily, but it seems he’s been out-voted. The dog lies down on their relatively clean bed sheets.
Jack curls up on his side, as close to Sawyer as he can. The other man wraps arms around him, stubble brushing the back of Jack’s neck.
The dog curls between their legs and settles in, providing a surprisingly comforting warmth.
The next morning, Jack wakes up with a yawn, and discovers the dog is missing. He’s mildly alarmed - until he hears the whining and scratching at their front door.
Jack gives a sigh, his eyes going to the ceiling. But he smiles. Sawyer grins over at him.
“Wanna take her for a walk?”
Jack nods. “Okay. Let’s go.”
Sawyer nods back at him, and sits up on his elbows. He whistles.
“Come here, Kate.”
Jack feels his mouth drop open. He glares at him.
“Sawyer…no.”
“What?” Sawyer gives him a look of poorly-feigned innocence.
“I’m serious. No. We’re not calling her that.”
Sawyer kicks the sheets back and gets out of bed, laughing. “Well. We can always talk about that, later.”
Pairing: Jack/Sawyer
Rating: PG for some mild language, implications
Length: 855 words
Notes: Okay, fine, so I'm already combining some prompts. I'm going to try not to, though, but this one just happened to line up. toestastegood wanted established relationships, and invisiblelove wanted some fluffy Jack/Sawyer, with a special emphasis on Jack.
Summary: "But Jack," Sawyer said, "it followed me home!"
“No way, Sawyer; no way.”
“Oh, excuse me, Mr. ‘I’m the man of the house’. I guess now you’re gonna start up with your ‘not under my roof’ and ‘I pay the bills around here’, huh?”
“That has absolutely nothing to do with it. Now stop trying to get out of this conversation by trying to pick a fight.”
Jack stares at the smelly mutt currently parked on the edge of their front hall carpet. It’s filthy, its shaggy brown and tan fur caked with dirt. Its claws are in bad need of a trim and it has a crooked kink in one ear.
It gazes up at Jack with big, stupid eyes, tongue lolling from the corner of its mouth. Its stumpy tale wags, thumping against the floor.
“Aw, see?” Sawyer gives a lopsided, dimpled grin. “He likes ya.”
“I’m pretty sure, under the layers of filth, that it’s actually a ‘she’,” Jack notes.
Sawyer waves a hand. “Whatever.”
“Sawyer,” Jack says again, seriously. “We are not keeping a dog.”
Sawyer’s face falls. He raises one hand, gaze dropping with something like embarrassment as he rubs the back of his neck.
“It followed me home,” he mutters, gruff.
He’s got that look again: the one that Jack knows he isn’t supposed to find adorable, but really he does.
Jack gives a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut as he kneads the bridge of his nose.
“Alright, look. We’ll take care of it for tonight, but as soon as we find someone else who wants it, or a decent shelter, it’s gone.” He looks up again, meeting Sawyer’s eyes. “Okay?”
Sawyer grins again, instantly brightening. “Sure,” he agrees, nodding.
Jack can’t stand the smell for much longer, so while Sawyer runs out to get some things for their “guest”, he takes the thing out back and attempts to give it a bath.
It’s easy enough filling the tub he found from the hose and coaxing the mutt in (possibly it’s tired of being dirty). He gets a decent scrub going, the dog panting happily as he lathers and works out the caked mud caught in its fur.
And then a squirrel bolts across the yard, and before he knows it the mutt has leaped after it, and he’s chasing a sudsy dog across the lawn until he slips on a patch of wet grass and goes down.
He lies there, listening to the neighbor kids laughing mockingly, and the dog comes back over and starts licking him in the face.
Sawyer returns with an awful lot of supplies for a dog that’s only supposed to be staying here a few days, a week tops. Like a big bag of kibble and some cans of wet food, and two bowls, a leash, a collar, some dog biscuits, a Frisbee, a rawhide bone and several chew toys.
“What?” Sawyer says, as if daring him to say something, as Jack watches him unpack the paper bags.
Jack only sighs. The dog comes and bumps its head against his leg, and he absently scratches it behind the ears.
After dinner, Sawyer takes it out back to play. “Come here, boy!”
“Girl,” Jack corrects him, again.
“Aw, whatever.”
Sawyer runs in circles and wrestles with the dog for almost two hours, until both are exhausted. Jack stands on the back porch and looks on, a beer in his hand.
He can’t help the faint smile that comes as he watches them roll on the ground together.
Later that night, when they’re in bed together and almost sound asleep, the mutt comes bounding into their room, barking.
Sawyer sits up with a groan, his eyes squinted. “Son of a bitch.”
“Yeah, not so cute now, is it?” Jack remarks. He halfheartedly waves at the dog. “Shhh, go lie down.”
It decides to climb up to join them instead.
“Aw, no!” Jack leans back, dismayed. “Come on now!”
“Let it go, Jack.” Sawyer gives him a reproving look, patting the dog along the spine. “What’s it gonna hurt?”
Jack rolls his eyes and sighs, heavily, but it seems he’s been out-voted. The dog lies down on their relatively clean bed sheets.
Jack curls up on his side, as close to Sawyer as he can. The other man wraps arms around him, stubble brushing the back of Jack’s neck.
The dog curls between their legs and settles in, providing a surprisingly comforting warmth.
The next morning, Jack wakes up with a yawn, and discovers the dog is missing. He’s mildly alarmed - until he hears the whining and scratching at their front door.
Jack gives a sigh, his eyes going to the ceiling. But he smiles. Sawyer grins over at him.
“Wanna take her for a walk?”
Jack nods. “Okay. Let’s go.”
Sawyer nods back at him, and sits up on his elbows. He whistles.
“Come here, Kate.”
Jack feels his mouth drop open. He glares at him.
“Sawyer…no.”
“What?” Sawyer gives him a look of poorly-feigned innocence.
“I’m serious. No. We’re not calling her that.”
Sawyer kicks the sheets back and gets out of bed, laughing. “Well. We can always talk about that, later.”