The Best Start to the Day - Lost - Jin/Sawyer
Title: The Best Start to the Day
Pairing: Jin/Sawyer
Word Count: 1270
Rating: NC-17
A/N: For citrus_taste's "Table" prompt. AU for S5.
Summary: While living together in the 1970s, Jin and Sawyer just about have time for a quickie before work.
His hand presses hard between Jin's bare shoulder blade to hold him down. Jin's struggles fade fast as he notices who it is: someone familiar. Someone safe.
In their shared kitchen, it isn't safe to do this. There's a wide window nearby, protected only by slatted blinds. Anyone could peak through if they wanted a look at what they were up to. In this hippie commune he'd bet that anyone would wander right into their home like they owned the place. They'd find Sawyer ('James' now, he's back to James, and hell if he doesn't know what to think about that) pinning Jin half-naked over the kitchen table. For their home, it's not exactly unusual.
One thing he's gotta love about living in Dharma-ville is that no one bats an eyelid. Sure, everyone knows that the Chief of Security is banging one of his employees on a regular basis, but this place is all about free love. Who gives a damn?
"I swear you walk around like this just to tempt me," Sawyer complains, lessening his grip on Jin's back. He strokes his hand over his smooth shoulders, walking the sweeping movement of his hand with delight. He loves the way that the slightest touch is enough to make Jin close his eyes and melt. "How am I supposed to head off to work when you're running around half-naked?"
Jin shivers at the sound of his voice. It ain't like his English is perfect - not yet, though they're getting closer - but he can understand more than he can speak. They're both damn good with body language too, and when there's a hard cock rubbing against your ass Sawyer guesses it isn't too hard to work out what's being said.
Jin blurts out a long line of Korean that he's got no hope of understanding, but he finishes it with a few of Sawyer's favourite words - "Please. Sawyer, please."
Sawyer smirks, 'cause he's far too much of a gentleman to resist a request like that. Jin's come a long way from the strict, repressed husband he had been when the plane first crashed. The island has broken him down and he has been forged into something new - something better, as far as Sawyer is concerned. They're all different, now. That doesn't mean they're broken for good.
He pushes the slacks that Jin wears to bed down his thighs, and wastes no time with pushing two fingers inside of him. Jin puffs out a heavy grunt of air at the intrusion, but his fingers cling to the edge of the table and he makes no objection. He's still stretched from last night and half-slick, pliant beneath Sawyer's hands. Backing off to grab some oil from their kitchen cupboards, when he turns around Jin is still there, bent over the table and watching him. Staying right where he was left, as if there is nowhere else in the world that he would rather be.
Sawyer knows that ain't true. He knows Jin would swap him for Sun in a heartbeat if he could, but that's alright. It's no secret.
It takes a second of wriggling before he can get free of his damn jumpsuit, the top half left hanging down at his waist. He hates these uniforms; seems like they were designed purely to make spur-of-the-moment sex much harder than it ought to be. He pulls himself out, naked from the waist up, and strokes slick oil over his member as he stands back and watches Jin wait for him.
Jin is watching him over his shoulder, eyes veiled. It's the kind of sight that makes Sawyer have to swallow, light-headed and out of his depth for once. He doesn't know what he's doing here. All his life, he's known that the best way to get out of a situation unharmed is to be completely in charge of it at all times - and he's lost his grip, now. Jin has made him lose his grip, and he can't even work up the energy to hate him for it. It's damn hard to hate a man when he's looking like that.
"LaFleur," Jin says - like this is all part of the act, all part of their cover story. "Hurry."
He crowds in close against Jin, and holds himself as he pushes inside. Jin groans and it sounds as if the noise has been trapped inside of him all morning, waiting to escape. Makes Sawyer smile to hear him like that, completely unravelled for once. It takes a lot to make Jin lose his composure. Sawyer used to knowing how to push a person's buttons, but with Jin it's difficult. He's got a temper, sure, but hell if Sawyer has been able to work out exactly how to provoke it.
This is better than violence, he thinks.
He glides inside of Jin with one long, smooth thrust, hips pressing against Jin's ass once he's all the way inside. His breath shivers and there's one hell of a smug smile on his face. There's never gonna be a time when doing this ceases to be mind-blowing. Jin trusts him. Trusts him in a way Sawyer's never had anyone do before. It's a power rush, no doubt about that.
They've not got much time, not with Sawyer due at work at any second. Fuck if he cares right now. Their table rocks and shakes, undesigned for this kind of treatment, as he thrusts inside of Jin with the kind of speed and force that he doesn't usually allow himself. Jin's hips, pushing back against his own with every rock, tell him that he doesn't have to hold back. Doesn't have to be careful, not this time.
When he angles his hips just right, he manages to make Jin cry out loud enough that their hippie neighbours are bound to have heard: fuck it. Fuck them. They've definitely heard worse than that, living here. Sawyer finds it hard to have a sense of shame around this place - or ever, actually. He's past it.
Jin releases his grip on the table with one hand in order to reach below and grasp hold of himself. Usually, Sawyer might feel like stopping him: drawing it out, torturing him as best he can. Jin's damn gorgeous when he squirms in denial, even if the look in his eyes is usually murderous. Today they're speeding up out of necessity, a morning quickie, so he doesn't play games.
Feels good when Jin tightens around him, his body jerking and spasming in Sawyer's grasp. Sawyer keeps a hold of him, even when Jin's body goes slack, and it doesn't take long for him to follow after, his entire body pressed as firmly against and into Jin as he can manage. He spills, almost choking on his own air, and he has to rest his forehead against Jin's skin as they both struggle to regain their breath.
When he does so, the first thing that Jin does is laugh. It takes a second for Sawyer to get it, until Jin gestures at the clock that is hanging on their kitchen wall.
He's late. Real late. No surprise there.
"If I get skinned alive, we'll know it's your fault," Sawyer grumbles, but by now they've already worked out that Dharma doesn't have much of a concept of time on a day-to-day basis. He pulls out with a sense of over-sensitive loss, and briefly brushes his lips against the back of Jin's neck. "See you tonight, stud."
After sorting himself out and washing his hands in the sink, he leaves Jin - dazed - in their kitchen.
It's a damn good start to the day.
Pairing: Jin/Sawyer
Word Count: 1270
Rating: NC-17
A/N: For citrus_taste's "Table" prompt. AU for S5.
Summary: While living together in the 1970s, Jin and Sawyer just about have time for a quickie before work.
His hand presses hard between Jin's bare shoulder blade to hold him down. Jin's struggles fade fast as he notices who it is: someone familiar. Someone safe.
In their shared kitchen, it isn't safe to do this. There's a wide window nearby, protected only by slatted blinds. Anyone could peak through if they wanted a look at what they were up to. In this hippie commune he'd bet that anyone would wander right into their home like they owned the place. They'd find Sawyer ('James' now, he's back to James, and hell if he doesn't know what to think about that) pinning Jin half-naked over the kitchen table. For their home, it's not exactly unusual.
One thing he's gotta love about living in Dharma-ville is that no one bats an eyelid. Sure, everyone knows that the Chief of Security is banging one of his employees on a regular basis, but this place is all about free love. Who gives a damn?
"I swear you walk around like this just to tempt me," Sawyer complains, lessening his grip on Jin's back. He strokes his hand over his smooth shoulders, walking the sweeping movement of his hand with delight. He loves the way that the slightest touch is enough to make Jin close his eyes and melt. "How am I supposed to head off to work when you're running around half-naked?"
Jin shivers at the sound of his voice. It ain't like his English is perfect - not yet, though they're getting closer - but he can understand more than he can speak. They're both damn good with body language too, and when there's a hard cock rubbing against your ass Sawyer guesses it isn't too hard to work out what's being said.
Jin blurts out a long line of Korean that he's got no hope of understanding, but he finishes it with a few of Sawyer's favourite words - "Please. Sawyer, please."
Sawyer smirks, 'cause he's far too much of a gentleman to resist a request like that. Jin's come a long way from the strict, repressed husband he had been when the plane first crashed. The island has broken him down and he has been forged into something new - something better, as far as Sawyer is concerned. They're all different, now. That doesn't mean they're broken for good.
He pushes the slacks that Jin wears to bed down his thighs, and wastes no time with pushing two fingers inside of him. Jin puffs out a heavy grunt of air at the intrusion, but his fingers cling to the edge of the table and he makes no objection. He's still stretched from last night and half-slick, pliant beneath Sawyer's hands. Backing off to grab some oil from their kitchen cupboards, when he turns around Jin is still there, bent over the table and watching him. Staying right where he was left, as if there is nowhere else in the world that he would rather be.
Sawyer knows that ain't true. He knows Jin would swap him for Sun in a heartbeat if he could, but that's alright. It's no secret.
It takes a second of wriggling before he can get free of his damn jumpsuit, the top half left hanging down at his waist. He hates these uniforms; seems like they were designed purely to make spur-of-the-moment sex much harder than it ought to be. He pulls himself out, naked from the waist up, and strokes slick oil over his member as he stands back and watches Jin wait for him.
Jin is watching him over his shoulder, eyes veiled. It's the kind of sight that makes Sawyer have to swallow, light-headed and out of his depth for once. He doesn't know what he's doing here. All his life, he's known that the best way to get out of a situation unharmed is to be completely in charge of it at all times - and he's lost his grip, now. Jin has made him lose his grip, and he can't even work up the energy to hate him for it. It's damn hard to hate a man when he's looking like that.
"LaFleur," Jin says - like this is all part of the act, all part of their cover story. "Hurry."
He crowds in close against Jin, and holds himself as he pushes inside. Jin groans and it sounds as if the noise has been trapped inside of him all morning, waiting to escape. Makes Sawyer smile to hear him like that, completely unravelled for once. It takes a lot to make Jin lose his composure. Sawyer used to knowing how to push a person's buttons, but with Jin it's difficult. He's got a temper, sure, but hell if Sawyer has been able to work out exactly how to provoke it.
This is better than violence, he thinks.
He glides inside of Jin with one long, smooth thrust, hips pressing against Jin's ass once he's all the way inside. His breath shivers and there's one hell of a smug smile on his face. There's never gonna be a time when doing this ceases to be mind-blowing. Jin trusts him. Trusts him in a way Sawyer's never had anyone do before. It's a power rush, no doubt about that.
They've not got much time, not with Sawyer due at work at any second. Fuck if he cares right now. Their table rocks and shakes, undesigned for this kind of treatment, as he thrusts inside of Jin with the kind of speed and force that he doesn't usually allow himself. Jin's hips, pushing back against his own with every rock, tell him that he doesn't have to hold back. Doesn't have to be careful, not this time.
When he angles his hips just right, he manages to make Jin cry out loud enough that their hippie neighbours are bound to have heard: fuck it. Fuck them. They've definitely heard worse than that, living here. Sawyer finds it hard to have a sense of shame around this place - or ever, actually. He's past it.
Jin releases his grip on the table with one hand in order to reach below and grasp hold of himself. Usually, Sawyer might feel like stopping him: drawing it out, torturing him as best he can. Jin's damn gorgeous when he squirms in denial, even if the look in his eyes is usually murderous. Today they're speeding up out of necessity, a morning quickie, so he doesn't play games.
Feels good when Jin tightens around him, his body jerking and spasming in Sawyer's grasp. Sawyer keeps a hold of him, even when Jin's body goes slack, and it doesn't take long for him to follow after, his entire body pressed as firmly against and into Jin as he can manage. He spills, almost choking on his own air, and he has to rest his forehead against Jin's skin as they both struggle to regain their breath.
When he does so, the first thing that Jin does is laugh. It takes a second for Sawyer to get it, until Jin gestures at the clock that is hanging on their kitchen wall.
He's late. Real late. No surprise there.
"If I get skinned alive, we'll know it's your fault," Sawyer grumbles, but by now they've already worked out that Dharma doesn't have much of a concept of time on a day-to-day basis. He pulls out with a sense of over-sensitive loss, and briefly brushes his lips against the back of Jin's neck. "See you tonight, stud."
After sorting himself out and washing his hands in the sink, he leaves Jin - dazed - in their kitchen.
It's a damn good start to the day.