Like Old Times - Lost - Jack/Sawyer/Sayid
Title: Like Old Times
Pairing: Jack/Sawyer/Sayid
Word Count: 329
Rating: PG-13
A/N: Written for the Lost Fic Battle.
Summary: They reunite in a hotel room.
As soon as they enter the hotel room, an overwhelming sense of calm washes over him. The steady tension that has built in his shoulders during the long elevator ride to the top of the building begins to release.
"It's been a while," Sawyer says, the first to break their expectant silence after they look around.
"Yes," Sayid agrees. He sheds the jacket from his sleek, tailored suit and hangs it over the back of a chair. Each item of furniture in this suite probably cost more than Sawyer's papa used to make in a month. "It has been."
"My fault," Jack admits sheepishly, raising his hand. He's wearing a fancy-looking suit too. Dark. Looks good on him. Everything looks good on him. "Work's been crazy."
"You're a damn millionaire, doc," Sawyer complains - like he always does. And Jack will defend himself - like he always does. And Sayid will distract them from their bickering in the best way possible - like he, too, always does. "You don’t gotta work all the time."
"It's not about the money." Jack's annoyed expression is so familiar and soothing. Still frustrating as fuck, of course. "It's about helping people. Maybe I shouldn't expect you to-"
"Boys," Sayid says - purrs. His voice might be gentle, might be calm, but it's impossible not to listen to a voice like that. Efficient footsteps bring him to their side and he places a hand on both of their shoulders. His palm is firm and reassuring; Sawyer wishes his clothes weren't in the way so that he could experience the full effect. "Did we come here to fight," he asks, "or did we come here to fuck?"
And damn if Sawyer's dick doesn't start to harden as Sayid's lips wrap around that word - and he sees Jack smiling that sheepish little smile of his and suddenly he knows that he is right where he belongs.
Together again - and the gaps between their meetings are always too damn long.
Pairing: Jack/Sawyer/Sayid
Word Count: 329
Rating: PG-13
A/N: Written for the Lost Fic Battle.
Summary: They reunite in a hotel room.
As soon as they enter the hotel room, an overwhelming sense of calm washes over him. The steady tension that has built in his shoulders during the long elevator ride to the top of the building begins to release.
"It's been a while," Sawyer says, the first to break their expectant silence after they look around.
"Yes," Sayid agrees. He sheds the jacket from his sleek, tailored suit and hangs it over the back of a chair. Each item of furniture in this suite probably cost more than Sawyer's papa used to make in a month. "It has been."
"My fault," Jack admits sheepishly, raising his hand. He's wearing a fancy-looking suit too. Dark. Looks good on him. Everything looks good on him. "Work's been crazy."
"You're a damn millionaire, doc," Sawyer complains - like he always does. And Jack will defend himself - like he always does. And Sayid will distract them from their bickering in the best way possible - like he, too, always does. "You don’t gotta work all the time."
"It's not about the money." Jack's annoyed expression is so familiar and soothing. Still frustrating as fuck, of course. "It's about helping people. Maybe I shouldn't expect you to-"
"Boys," Sayid says - purrs. His voice might be gentle, might be calm, but it's impossible not to listen to a voice like that. Efficient footsteps bring him to their side and he places a hand on both of their shoulders. His palm is firm and reassuring; Sawyer wishes his clothes weren't in the way so that he could experience the full effect. "Did we come here to fight," he asks, "or did we come here to fuck?"
And damn if Sawyer's dick doesn't start to harden as Sayid's lips wrap around that word - and he sees Jack smiling that sheepish little smile of his and suddenly he knows that he is right where he belongs.
Together again - and the gaps between their meetings are always too damn long.