Lost fic: Otherwise [Sawyer/Juliet, NC17]
Missing-scene type thing, set during "Through the Looking Glass." Written for the color prompt at Lost Riffs, hosted at lostsquee. Sawyer/Juliet with implied Jack/Sawyer and Jack/Juliet. NC17
Otherwise
by eponine119
January 25, 2008
Maybe he thinks he'll taste Jack on her lips when he kisses her. Maybe it's that they're standing here together and she's just told him there are no guns, so they are walking into an ambush about to die. Maybe it's simply because they're here.
Sawyer leans down to kiss Juliet roughly and she meets him halfway. He didn't expect her to kiss him back, didn't expect her to like it. When he pushes his tongue into her mouth, she puts her hands on his shoulders, pulling herself closer, opening herself up to him. Her breasts press against his chest, full and firm, and he can feel the pulse beat in his throat.
She teased him about wanting sex with Jack. She hasn't had him either, but she's been closer to him than Sawyer. Of course he can't taste Jack on her skin. Her mouth is cool, like water on a hot day, but Jack wouldn't know. When he kissed her it was sweet and chaste, white to Sawyer's black, everything Sawyer is not.
He drags his hand through the silver blonde of her hair, smooth as silk passing between his fingertips. He draws back, holding her face between his hands, deciding whether he's going to do this. Her skin is virgin pale beneath the weathered bronze of his hands, which have been touched by the sun and the mud and the dirt and the blood of the lives he's taken. She arches an eyebrow and he realizes it isn't his decision to make.
They undress quickly; there isn't much time. The rush adds to the excitement. Sawyer's done this before, given into helpless desire on the ground. A day later Ana's skin, the shade of bruised tangerines, had turned gray in death. He and Juliet are probably going to die. They deserve it. They're not good people. Yet there's a faint blush coloring Juliet's skin and Sawyer can feel his own face is hot.
They have only three things in common: they're here, they're about to die, and they love Jack.
Juliet lets out a long, silent breath once he's inside her, not quite a sigh. Her eyes are intensely blue, focused on his. Not letting him forget. Things are going quickly and he thinks she's not going to get much out of this. But then she takes his hands in hers and they move together, wrestling a bit until she's on top of him and in control. Now her eyes close. Sawyer continues to watch her, lying there on his back, admiring the way her thin arms give way to full breasts with pale tips, the long curve of her throat, the way her lips curl as her body trembles all around his. The sun, bright orange in the sky, burns into his retinas as he closes his eyes and lets himself come.
There's not much time for afterwards, either. She lies beside him, not touching him. He wants to, but doesn't dare, cuddle her against him, just for a minute, till the craving for a cigarette to smoke subsides.
Just as well they're going to die, he thinks, watching her walk ahead of him on the way back to their beach, and that's when he realizes she knows it too. Knows it better than he does, she who has held a dozen babies bathed in their dying mothers' blood.
end
Otherwise
by eponine119
January 25, 2008
Maybe he thinks he'll taste Jack on her lips when he kisses her. Maybe it's that they're standing here together and she's just told him there are no guns, so they are walking into an ambush about to die. Maybe it's simply because they're here.
Sawyer leans down to kiss Juliet roughly and she meets him halfway. He didn't expect her to kiss him back, didn't expect her to like it. When he pushes his tongue into her mouth, she puts her hands on his shoulders, pulling herself closer, opening herself up to him. Her breasts press against his chest, full and firm, and he can feel the pulse beat in his throat.
She teased him about wanting sex with Jack. She hasn't had him either, but she's been closer to him than Sawyer. Of course he can't taste Jack on her skin. Her mouth is cool, like water on a hot day, but Jack wouldn't know. When he kissed her it was sweet and chaste, white to Sawyer's black, everything Sawyer is not.
He drags his hand through the silver blonde of her hair, smooth as silk passing between his fingertips. He draws back, holding her face between his hands, deciding whether he's going to do this. Her skin is virgin pale beneath the weathered bronze of his hands, which have been touched by the sun and the mud and the dirt and the blood of the lives he's taken. She arches an eyebrow and he realizes it isn't his decision to make.
They undress quickly; there isn't much time. The rush adds to the excitement. Sawyer's done this before, given into helpless desire on the ground. A day later Ana's skin, the shade of bruised tangerines, had turned gray in death. He and Juliet are probably going to die. They deserve it. They're not good people. Yet there's a faint blush coloring Juliet's skin and Sawyer can feel his own face is hot.
They have only three things in common: they're here, they're about to die, and they love Jack.
Juliet lets out a long, silent breath once he's inside her, not quite a sigh. Her eyes are intensely blue, focused on his. Not letting him forget. Things are going quickly and he thinks she's not going to get much out of this. But then she takes his hands in hers and they move together, wrestling a bit until she's on top of him and in control. Now her eyes close. Sawyer continues to watch her, lying there on his back, admiring the way her thin arms give way to full breasts with pale tips, the long curve of her throat, the way her lips curl as her body trembles all around his. The sun, bright orange in the sky, burns into his retinas as he closes his eyes and lets himself come.
There's not much time for afterwards, either. She lies beside him, not touching him. He wants to, but doesn't dare, cuddle her against him, just for a minute, till the craving for a cigarette to smoke subsides.
Just as well they're going to die, he thinks, watching her walk ahead of him on the way back to their beach, and that's when he realizes she knows it too. Knows it better than he does, she who has held a dozen babies bathed in their dying mothers' blood.
end