various ficlets for today's meme and that other meme (Lost, Heroes/Supernatural crossover)
Forgive me the heavy load of stuff here but I swear it's all short stuff. And I guess it'll be the last post before I go so Merry Christmas meanwhile. ;)
Non Lost:
Title: Unchanging (Heroes/Supernatural crossover)
Pairing: John Winchester/Adam Monroe
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Pff. Seriously. If Heroes was mine it'd be a way better show. And if SPN was mine JDM would appear as the monthly angel or something.
Word count: 517
Spoilers: the pilot for SPN and... well, if you know who Adam is, you're good.
Summary: His name was Adam and even if he had always considered their... well, their business either one of those crushes that comes one day and is gone the other or a way to avoid going definitely mad in that hell on earth, John had always remembered him clearly.
A/N: for toestastegood who 'forced' me on the meme down here.
So, there’s something that is not right, here. John takes a sip from his drink as he pretends to listen to what the man next to him is saying.
It’s not like he’s having a drink with a total stranger because the man is not a total stranger. He's the man who was in his unit and slept in the bunk next to his on the way to Vietnam and then well, since they ended up talking to each other before they arrived their sleeping places had stuck and then when after one night their physical contact became more intimate than just John’s back pressed against his companion’s back. It lasted until John got shipped back home.
His name was Adam and even if he had always considered their... well, their business either one of those crushes that comes one day and is gone the other or a way to avoid going definitely mad in that hell on earth, John had always remembered him clearly. Such a slender and well-built figure, with blond hair which never seemed to get dirty, a nice smile, pretty smug attitude and a helluva luck, since he was the only person John knew in their unit who never got a single scar.
And now he’d really like to listen to what Adam has to say after meeting him out of the blue in this bar in Louisiana where he had decided to have a drink in order to celebrate his latest accomplished hunting job (it was already late at night, Dean was probably having Sam under control and anyway home was too far for him to drive since he felt weak and was drinking alcohol), except that he can’t because something is not right. What is not right is that John remembers Adam and the Adam in front of him is exactly the same as John remembered.
Which is crazy. Right, there are people who age slowly, but dammit, Dean is twelve just to say one thing. One can’t just look twenty-two twelve years later. Maybe his perception is twisted because John himself has changed, changed so much, well, after the last six years everyone would have, but seeing Adam like that in front of him just puzzles him so much that he just can’t listen to what Adam says. And he realizes that it’s not polite, not at all (but it’s not like John is the definition of polite, or at least not anymore), but...
“You haven’t heard a thing, right?”
He doesn’t even try to deny it.
“Sorry. You’re just... it seems like you haven’t changed. While I did. I guess I can’t wrap my head around it.”
“I wouldn’t blame you. It’s just that... let’s say nature has been generous with me.”
“I bet it has. Not with me, though.”
“Not at all. You look good.”
John hides the small smile tugging at his lips behind the glass.
“You don’t want to know.”
“Oh, I do. Very much, actually.”
John finds himself telling him and wondering how much Adam didn’t exactly change. God help him, he finds himself eager to find out.
End.
Title: Brokeback
Pairing: faaaaaint Tim/Jason
Rating: PG?
Disclaimer: Friday Night Lights is not mine. Especially because if it was they wouldn't have done what they did and I'd be watching it regularly, not trying to gather the courage to catch up.
Word count: 386
Spoilers: the Brokeback episode. ;)
Summary: He isn’t sure the position means anything but that handful of words does, it does so much, especially after all that happened what seems ages ago and what happened just now.
A/N: for lasamy who 'forced' me on the meme down here. ♥ First time I write FNL ever. God. Go me.
So he doubts that Tim will ever get it. He might crack the Brokeback jokes but Jason is pretty sure he hasn’t even seen that movie (well, he’d know of everyone if he had, right?). Or maybe he might and Bill is the only one who knows. That’s a possibility.
He wonders if it means he could actually just go and say it. He wonders if that joke is a cover. It probably isn’t. Well, they were joking about problems and bi-polarism and thirty year old neighbors and then the chair won as usual; yeah, the chair. Can’t beat that, right?
Saracen and Smash are there passed out and yeah, well, it’s very Brokeback except that if they took it to the letter than Brokeback would be close to vanilla in comparison (yeah, why, Jason has seen it).
And then it’s friends? and yeah, always and Texas forever and while Jason does notice the irony of the situation (you don’t say that after a Brokeback joke) he can’t help also noticing that they’re in one of the few positions where, chair or not, he’s taller than Tim.
He isn’t sure the position means anything but that handful of words does, it does so much, especially after all that happened what seems ages ago and what happened just now. He doesn’t miss her. He had missed Tim. Oh, so much. He wonders if it came through. He figures it did, at least by looking at Tim’s faint smile which might be faint but is there in the soft light of dawn, his hair barely shaken by cold breeze.
For a second he wishes the field was a mountain and that there was a tent, but it’s just dumb. After all, there’s still the chair in between, which makes any possible dumb fantasy of that kind impossible.
Still, he gasps a bit when Tim’s right hand silently reaches his left one, covering it with cold, freezing fingers. He lets the other one shake while he keeps his left steady or so he tries as the air doesn’t suddenly seem so chilly.
Well, yeah, might be so Brokeback but he wouldn’t ever renounce this. He just hopes it might happen again. Maybe when they are alone. Maybe after all it might be a hint. Maybe.
For now it’s enough.
End.
Lost:
Title: Disadvantages Occurring When You Start Naming Too Many Stars
Characters: Karl, who's having sort of a bit of a crush on Sawyer.
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Lost is nooot mine. Canon wouldn't have happened.
Word count: 517
Spoilers: If Lost was mine, what Did Not Happen wouldn't have happened.
Summary: Karl is also sure he looks like an idiot whenever he’s around him. The worst thing is that Alex kind of joked about it once and said he didn’t have bad taste.
A/N: For bachlava who did asked for one of the sane family in another meme. by the way, what Did Not Happen Does Not Happen after this. ;) the title is mine for once. Shows because it's horrible.
Okay, so, Karl doesn’t have an idea of what is happening. Not-at-all.
He doesn’t know when it started. Wait. No. He knows. Maybe. Probably when he came to warn the survivors of the attack. Yeah, that, probably. Because you see, for a second he had thought that the Iraqi was seriously going to make his neck snap before he could even say you’re screwed. And then yeah, fine, sure, Sawyer came and sure, Karl had kind of looked like your usual damsel in distress but he hadn’t exactly minded (especially since after he said what he had to say people had more pressing matters to care about).
Oh, hell, the problem is that whenever Sawyer is around he sneaks glances and blushes and wants to break his head against a wall and this is seriously not supposed to be happening because he loves Alex, he really does and he’s sure of his feelings, hell, after all he’d name a dumb start after her and...
That wasn’t what he was supposed to think. Oh, great.
He’s also sure he looks like an idiot whenever he’s around him. The worst thing is that Alex kind of joked about it once and said he didn’t have bad taste. What the hell? Right, fine, it was a joke, but still. And Sawyer seems to know that he has at least some effect on him and of course he always has to be a smartass and smile when he’s around and being slightly nicer to him than to anyone else crossing his path except Hurley. He doesn’t know what the hell is happening. He doesn’t have an idea. He wishes he knew. Maybe he should just stop thinking about it. Yeah, easy, when you live in a bunch of houses all near to each other and when you end up seeing the man at least twice each day.
Still, it feels wrong but it feels right too and blame him if there’s something he can’t renounce about that subtle way in which Sawyer shows that he’s at least giving a damn about what he does, where he goes and what happens. Especially when Alex is with Danielle, it’s not like there’s anyone else here he really knows or who tried anything besides introducing. Or something. It’s just that Sawyer is there cranking some jokes if he wants to talk or not saying anything if Karl just feels like being around someone without talking, he’s around when Locke lets Ben out, he was always around when there was the need and when it wasn’t and Karl didn’t even know it until he actually thought about it.
Not to mention that he actually wants Sawyer to be around and oh, damn, he doesn’t even want to try to realize what it is. It’s there and it won’t go away and well, he’s not ever going to tell Sawyer he named a star after him. Smaller than Alex’s, though.
Well, why, he’s in love with Alex. One can love someone else while being in love, right? Right? It’s not like he’s ever going to say it to a soul anyway.
End.
Title: The Man In Black Fled Across The Desert
Characters: Sawyer
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Lost is not mine, The Dark Tower isn't either.
Word count: 319
Spoilers: ppf, nothing? Well, the first two lines of the first Dark Tower book aren't a spoiler. I hope.
Summary: Sawyer doesn’t like Stephen King. Correction: Sawyer hates Stephen King.
A/N: for thespiansparkle who asked for a drabble too and gets this because I thought it was a good idea.
Sawyer doesn’t like Stephen King.
Correction: Sawyer hates Stephen King. He read a couple of books of his in prison, thick and heavy stuff it was, and just because someone forgot them under his bunk (he tried not to think about how could someone forget books under a bunk. However). And he had hated them. Cheap paperback shit with nice characters made to be liked (some) and hated (some), with some pretty unjust killing in the end (usually never of the protagonist) and usually a horrible end anyway.
So yeah, fine, Sawyer hates King.
Except that he found this Gunslinger thing among some books he took from a suitcase, he has kind of finished his stash (which isn’t as big as people though, at least not in relation to books) and now he rolls his eyes and says fine, whatever, let’s give it a shot. He’s dying of boredom anyway.
So here it’s page one and it’s The man in black fled across the desert and the gunslinger followed and suddenly he needs to correct his judgment, because the problem is that it isn’t a good starting sentence. It’s a fucking brilliant starting sentence. He doesn’t need to read further down to envision the scene; he sees the black point fleeing across the horizon raising small clouds of sand, he sees this other Clint Eastwood shaped silhouette following him maybe with a gun drawn in his hand, he can feel the hot sun burning over his skin and then he blinks and snaps out into reality. He’s sitting in his tent, it’s cool outside, it’s almost sunset for that matter. No desert, no gunslinger, no man in black.
He thinks that maybe he should check the plot on the back cover.
But then again, why? That’d be no surprise, right?
The desert was the apotheosis of all deserts, huge, standing to the sky for what looked like eternity in all directions.
End.
Title: Whirl Away
Pairing: Desmond/Sayid
Rating: light NC17
Disclaimer: This is me being hopeful. Of course Lost isn't mine.
Word count: 647
Spoilers: S4 finale.
Summary: He isn't doing this just because he's so desperate that he'll take any kind of comfort that brings his mind away from the real world, but also because they have been sharing the cabin for a week and Sayid has barely given a sign of acknowledging he's here at all.
A/N: originally for erika325 for that trick and treat fic post. Using for lostpicksix #2, kissing. Title stolen from Patti Smith.
It happens in a second or something like it. Desmond can't remember. He knows that one moment they were talking, or better, he was saying something once in a while and Sayid was staying in silence, and the other one they were sitting on his bed in his and Sayid's shared cabin on the ship returning them to his personal hell. Penny isn't here, of course; but of course saving her life was worth enough going back with them. After all, he was given a choice and if it was either you come back or Ben goes along with his plan and you’ll be able to escape until a certain point was enough.
He knows he has business to fix himself; but he doesn't think about it now, not as Sayid's lips cover his, moving slowly against them, and as he can't help doing anything but reciprocate, his fingers running easily through Sayid's long, straight, raven-black strands of hair.
He isn't doing this just because he's so desperate that he'll take any kind of comfort that brings his mind away from the real world, but also because they have been sharing the cabin for a week and Sayid has barely given a sign of acknowledging he's here at all. From nothing to this, that's quite the jump and Desmond doesn't really think that it'd be wise to stop. Especially if it manages to get Sayid out of this bloody mood which will probably end up rubbing on him soon, like he doesn’t have his own problems (not least one named Claire and he wants to punch himself for behaving the way he did) and like Sayid needs it anyway.
So they kiss; Sayid's lips are just so soft and Desmond shivers as Sayid's tongue runs across his bottom lip and then as Sayid lightly bites it; there's a shiver running down his spine and Desmond's other hand goes to Sayid's cheek, feeling his beard not as accurately trimmed as he would have thought, but after all it's not like he's taking much care of such things these days, either.
The kiss doesn't break and it's still slow; Sayid tastes of that spicy meat they had at dinner (that someone had at dinner; Jack didn’t touch food, for example) and Desmond's hands fall further down, around Sayid's waist, pulling him closer, feeling him moan into the kiss and pushing Sayid just a bit against him; Desmond's fingers find silk and expensive cloth and he can't just place it, not with the Sayid he had briefly known on that freighter.
But things have changed and he hopes Penny would understand if he's doing this right now, as his hand opens up Sayid's expensive, black trousers; as he takes him into his hand, as Desmond's thigh rubs against Sayid's leg and his hand gets Sayid off while Sayid's lips hover along his neck.
Sayid comes not much later and Desmond can't help feeling some kind of relief when he sees that those bloody expensive trousers which don't feel like Sayid at all are ruined. As he lies on the bed, waiting for Sayid to strip him down, he wonders whether this night they'll share the bunk or not. That feels more of a betrayal than anything else, but he feels like he needs it and like Sayid needs it; he doesn't even know if he'll see her again and he can't just stand the thought. He figures he and Sayid are both on their own right now; might as well being on their bloody own together, he thinks as Sayid's hands close over his hips and then his mind goes a completely different way until he comes, and comes hard as his body is shaken by countless shivers.
They do share the bunk, in the end. It's narrow, it's uncomfortable, the blanket is too small. It doesn't matter at all.
End.
Title: Here I Go And I Don't Know Why
Pairing: Boone/Claire
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Ha, Lost is not mine. What news.
Word count: 749
Spoilers: White Rabbit? Is that a spoiler?
Summary: It starts the day when he apologizes to her for the water. He’s really sorry and absolutely ashamed and the way Arzt looks at him when he says he’s sorry surely doesn’t make things easier.
A/N: for lenina20 who 'forced' me on the meme down here. ♥ Using for un_love_you #11, Thought I needed this. Uhm, did I really finally tried the pairing? Title stolen from Patti Smith.
It starts the day when he apologizes to her for the water. He’s really sorry and absolutely ashamed and the way Arzt looks at him when he says he’s sorry surely doesn’t make things easier.
But while he’s sorry and ashamed, he’s also sincere and completely miserable and it doesn’t take a degree to realize how uncomfortable this business is making him. Claire answers that of course he didn’t need to apologize, he was just trying to help and she really feels uncomfortable too because he really didn’t deserve the cold shoulder treatment he’s receiving. He just nods telling him he’ll just try not to bother her anymore and then she says he doesn’t really bother her and that he can drop by anytime he wants.
Yeah, that’s probably when it starts.
--
He does drop by. They talk usually about nothing too important and it’s fine; Claire is really okay with talking shop. God knows she could use more.
Then one day she thinks that he really is cute. Well, okay, cute in regards to the attitude. He brings her a small bottle of water from the caves any time he passes by, he’s just so nice while at the same time looking somewhat sad, even if she can’t exactly place why. But well, she has to be fair: there’s something to him which isn’t necessarily in the fact that well, the man is indeed good looking. Maybe it’s because of the way his eyes smile when he does, or because of that melancholy that comes with him like it was part of just the way he is.
Also, while he’s nice to her he actually doesn’t treat her like she’s made of glass. She appreciates it.
--
Then one day when there’s nobody around except for the sea (she had asked him if he’d like to take a walk and he had said sure) there’s that something about him again which draws her like a magnet even more, maybe because it’s sunset and he looks a bit ethereal in that rosy-golden light and so she just does the thing she had sort of wished she could do since she watched Bridget Jones’ Diary with her best friend years ago (when if someone told her she’d be pregnant while doing it she’d have laughed, or something). She just stops, takes his head in her hands and kisses him.
She’s the most shocked one when he kisses back.
--
And then she learns something that Shannon would have told her at once, if she had thought to ask her.
If there’s one thing Boone Carlyle is incapable of doing, is saying no (especially when you’re a girl, you’re a blonde and with a completely different attitude from his sister’s, but Claire doesn’t know this and it doesn’t matter anyway, since the other thing about Boone Carlyle is that he always does what he does sincerely).
The thing, Claire thinks, is that pregnancy makes people think you don’t have any kind of desire of that kind. Wrong, because the thing is that she has. She has and while Boone has said that fingers is the farthest he will go, that’s enough. More than enough.
Because apart from that he never says no, he’s careful. And delicate. And considerate. And he kisses her thoroughly, and he tastes just so good, and his mouth always hovers near her lips when those fingers of his do something and she comes with a sigh, her arms around his neck and those eyes of his staring straight into hers, blue and clear and hazy and concentrated just on her, his hand maybe slowly brushing her swollen belly.
--
It has started and it still isn’t over even if Claire figures it will have to be. She just thinks she will miss the way his eyes always lit up as soon as he sees her smile at him.
End.
Title: Revenge Is A Kind of Wild Justice
Pairing: Boone/Shannon
Rating: light R
Disclaimer: It should be clear that Lost isn't mine.
Word count: 580
Spoilers: In Traslation maybe?
Summary: She wants him to hate her because it’s not fair that she needs to hate him and and he just doesn’t get it. She needs someone to have her revenge on and since she won’t ever get any on Sabrina, it’s got to be him. Even if he doesn’t really have much of a fault.
A/N: uhm, this one is for me I guess, because I like myself Boone angst. ;) ;) seriously, I wrote it in class, has been sitting for a while and since I was having the ficlet dump.. using for un_love_you #16, I want to break you. Title stolen from some Francis Bacon quote. I'm not worthy.
It’s not really surprising that after his (pretty expected) impetuosity as soon as he gave in and kissed her back, she’s the one ending up on top.
Well, since it’s Boone we’re talking about, Shannon isn’t really surprised. Maybe he needs it because he doesn’t want to think he has any control over this. Fine. Not a problem at all.
His touches are gentle, his hands are warm, he kisses her deeply and slowly, he takes every inch of her in with his eyes and his fingers like he can’t see her and touch her enough; she hates it. She wants this to be hard and quick and painful, not the perfect fuck he’s aiming at.
Because every touch speaks volumes and every touch says that he loves her and that’s not what she wants. She wants him to hate her because it’s not fair that she needs to hate him and and he just doesn’t get it. She needs someone to have her revenge on and since she won’t ever get any on Sabrina, it’s got to be him. Even if he doesn’t really have much of a fault.
She doesn’t listen to some inner voice telling her to call this off and walk away and spare him what’s coming after because he doesn’t deserve it; she meets his hips as they thrust up, she meets his lips and lets him kiss her as he likes.
She lets him have his perfect fuck and plays along. She moves the same way, adjusts to his rythm, digs her nails into his skin, sure that they’ll leave marks. She comes just after he does, she lets him hold her for a while.
Then she tells him that they’ll go back to what it was and she thinks she can hear the sound of his heart shattering and breaking and crumbling into little pieces.
She takes a breath and pretends she doesn’t give a damn. After all that’s what she wanted. It’s her revenge, and what an exquisitely achieved one.
--
Then they crash and she realizes that nothing has changed really, because he still loves her anyway like the hopeless moron he is, except that now he’s beyond any repair. While he’s always the same now there’s a certain frailty to the way he acts, a certain urgency and desperation and helplessness in everything he does. He had always wanted to be the hero of the day who saves the damsel in distress, but not in the obsessive compulsive way he tries now. Not to mention that the effort he puts in his trying is in inverse proportion to his success, since there isn’t a single time he hasn’t fucked things up one way or the other.
Then everything changes just like that and one day he just gives her the cold shoulder and practically disappears from her life. He barely talks to her now, he isn’t around anymore, sometimes he does speak to her and she can sense just how unhappy he is now as he was before.
Then stuff happens and she accepts from Sayid what she has never accepted from him. She can’t help wondering how deep she exactly hurt him; what she knows for sure, though, and what hurts her to some degree (and well, now that isn’t exactly the outcome she’d have predicted), is that even if Boone wasn’t beyond repair (and she can just sense he is), it’d hardly be her job to undo what she’s done.
End.
Oh wow. That was hard. Okay, I'm done. ;)
Non Lost:
Title: Unchanging (Heroes/Supernatural crossover)
Pairing: John Winchester/Adam Monroe
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Pff. Seriously. If Heroes was mine it'd be a way better show. And if SPN was mine JDM would appear as the monthly angel or something.
Word count: 517
Spoilers: the pilot for SPN and... well, if you know who Adam is, you're good.
Summary: His name was Adam and even if he had always considered their... well, their business either one of those crushes that comes one day and is gone the other or a way to avoid going definitely mad in that hell on earth, John had always remembered him clearly.
A/N: for toestastegood who 'forced' me on the meme down here.
So, there’s something that is not right, here. John takes a sip from his drink as he pretends to listen to what the man next to him is saying.
It’s not like he’s having a drink with a total stranger because the man is not a total stranger. He's the man who was in his unit and slept in the bunk next to his on the way to Vietnam and then well, since they ended up talking to each other before they arrived their sleeping places had stuck and then when after one night their physical contact became more intimate than just John’s back pressed against his companion’s back. It lasted until John got shipped back home.
His name was Adam and even if he had always considered their... well, their business either one of those crushes that comes one day and is gone the other or a way to avoid going definitely mad in that hell on earth, John had always remembered him clearly. Such a slender and well-built figure, with blond hair which never seemed to get dirty, a nice smile, pretty smug attitude and a helluva luck, since he was the only person John knew in their unit who never got a single scar.
And now he’d really like to listen to what Adam has to say after meeting him out of the blue in this bar in Louisiana where he had decided to have a drink in order to celebrate his latest accomplished hunting job (it was already late at night, Dean was probably having Sam under control and anyway home was too far for him to drive since he felt weak and was drinking alcohol), except that he can’t because something is not right. What is not right is that John remembers Adam and the Adam in front of him is exactly the same as John remembered.
Which is crazy. Right, there are people who age slowly, but dammit, Dean is twelve just to say one thing. One can’t just look twenty-two twelve years later. Maybe his perception is twisted because John himself has changed, changed so much, well, after the last six years everyone would have, but seeing Adam like that in front of him just puzzles him so much that he just can’t listen to what Adam says. And he realizes that it’s not polite, not at all (but it’s not like John is the definition of polite, or at least not anymore), but...
“You haven’t heard a thing, right?”
He doesn’t even try to deny it.
“Sorry. You’re just... it seems like you haven’t changed. While I did. I guess I can’t wrap my head around it.”
“I wouldn’t blame you. It’s just that... let’s say nature has been generous with me.”
“I bet it has. Not with me, though.”
“Not at all. You look good.”
John hides the small smile tugging at his lips behind the glass.
“You don’t want to know.”
“Oh, I do. Very much, actually.”
John finds himself telling him and wondering how much Adam didn’t exactly change. God help him, he finds himself eager to find out.
End.
Title: Brokeback
Pairing: faaaaaint Tim/Jason
Rating: PG?
Disclaimer: Friday Night Lights is not mine. Especially because if it was they wouldn't have done what they did and I'd be watching it regularly, not trying to gather the courage to catch up.
Word count: 386
Spoilers: the Brokeback episode. ;)
Summary: He isn’t sure the position means anything but that handful of words does, it does so much, especially after all that happened what seems ages ago and what happened just now.
A/N: for lasamy who 'forced' me on the meme down here. ♥ First time I write FNL ever. God. Go me.
So he doubts that Tim will ever get it. He might crack the Brokeback jokes but Jason is pretty sure he hasn’t even seen that movie (well, he’d know of everyone if he had, right?). Or maybe he might and Bill is the only one who knows. That’s a possibility.
He wonders if it means he could actually just go and say it. He wonders if that joke is a cover. It probably isn’t. Well, they were joking about problems and bi-polarism and thirty year old neighbors and then the chair won as usual; yeah, the chair. Can’t beat that, right?
Saracen and Smash are there passed out and yeah, well, it’s very Brokeback except that if they took it to the letter than Brokeback would be close to vanilla in comparison (yeah, why, Jason has seen it).
And then it’s friends? and yeah, always and Texas forever and while Jason does notice the irony of the situation (you don’t say that after a Brokeback joke) he can’t help also noticing that they’re in one of the few positions where, chair or not, he’s taller than Tim.
He isn’t sure the position means anything but that handful of words does, it does so much, especially after all that happened what seems ages ago and what happened just now. He doesn’t miss her. He had missed Tim. Oh, so much. He wonders if it came through. He figures it did, at least by looking at Tim’s faint smile which might be faint but is there in the soft light of dawn, his hair barely shaken by cold breeze.
For a second he wishes the field was a mountain and that there was a tent, but it’s just dumb. After all, there’s still the chair in between, which makes any possible dumb fantasy of that kind impossible.
Still, he gasps a bit when Tim’s right hand silently reaches his left one, covering it with cold, freezing fingers. He lets the other one shake while he keeps his left steady or so he tries as the air doesn’t suddenly seem so chilly.
Well, yeah, might be so Brokeback but he wouldn’t ever renounce this. He just hopes it might happen again. Maybe when they are alone. Maybe after all it might be a hint. Maybe.
For now it’s enough.
End.
Lost:
Title: Disadvantages Occurring When You Start Naming Too Many Stars
Characters: Karl, who's having sort of a bit of a crush on Sawyer.
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Lost is nooot mine. Canon wouldn't have happened.
Word count: 517
Spoilers: If Lost was mine, what Did Not Happen wouldn't have happened.
Summary: Karl is also sure he looks like an idiot whenever he’s around him. The worst thing is that Alex kind of joked about it once and said he didn’t have bad taste.
A/N: For bachlava who did asked for one of the sane family in another meme. by the way, what Did Not Happen Does Not Happen after this. ;) the title is mine for once. Shows because it's horrible.
Okay, so, Karl doesn’t have an idea of what is happening. Not-at-all.
He doesn’t know when it started. Wait. No. He knows. Maybe. Probably when he came to warn the survivors of the attack. Yeah, that, probably. Because you see, for a second he had thought that the Iraqi was seriously going to make his neck snap before he could even say you’re screwed. And then yeah, fine, sure, Sawyer came and sure, Karl had kind of looked like your usual damsel in distress but he hadn’t exactly minded (especially since after he said what he had to say people had more pressing matters to care about).
Oh, hell, the problem is that whenever Sawyer is around he sneaks glances and blushes and wants to break his head against a wall and this is seriously not supposed to be happening because he loves Alex, he really does and he’s sure of his feelings, hell, after all he’d name a dumb start after her and...
That wasn’t what he was supposed to think. Oh, great.
He’s also sure he looks like an idiot whenever he’s around him. The worst thing is that Alex kind of joked about it once and said he didn’t have bad taste. What the hell? Right, fine, it was a joke, but still. And Sawyer seems to know that he has at least some effect on him and of course he always has to be a smartass and smile when he’s around and being slightly nicer to him than to anyone else crossing his path except Hurley. He doesn’t know what the hell is happening. He doesn’t have an idea. He wishes he knew. Maybe he should just stop thinking about it. Yeah, easy, when you live in a bunch of houses all near to each other and when you end up seeing the man at least twice each day.
Still, it feels wrong but it feels right too and blame him if there’s something he can’t renounce about that subtle way in which Sawyer shows that he’s at least giving a damn about what he does, where he goes and what happens. Especially when Alex is with Danielle, it’s not like there’s anyone else here he really knows or who tried anything besides introducing. Or something. It’s just that Sawyer is there cranking some jokes if he wants to talk or not saying anything if Karl just feels like being around someone without talking, he’s around when Locke lets Ben out, he was always around when there was the need and when it wasn’t and Karl didn’t even know it until he actually thought about it.
Not to mention that he actually wants Sawyer to be around and oh, damn, he doesn’t even want to try to realize what it is. It’s there and it won’t go away and well, he’s not ever going to tell Sawyer he named a star after him. Smaller than Alex’s, though.
Well, why, he’s in love with Alex. One can love someone else while being in love, right? Right? It’s not like he’s ever going to say it to a soul anyway.
End.
Title: The Man In Black Fled Across The Desert
Characters: Sawyer
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Lost is not mine, The Dark Tower isn't either.
Word count: 319
Spoilers: ppf, nothing? Well, the first two lines of the first Dark Tower book aren't a spoiler. I hope.
Summary: Sawyer doesn’t like Stephen King. Correction: Sawyer hates Stephen King.
A/N: for thespiansparkle who asked for a drabble too and gets this because I thought it was a good idea.
Sawyer doesn’t like Stephen King.
Correction: Sawyer hates Stephen King. He read a couple of books of his in prison, thick and heavy stuff it was, and just because someone forgot them under his bunk (he tried not to think about how could someone forget books under a bunk. However). And he had hated them. Cheap paperback shit with nice characters made to be liked (some) and hated (some), with some pretty unjust killing in the end (usually never of the protagonist) and usually a horrible end anyway.
So yeah, fine, Sawyer hates King.
Except that he found this Gunslinger thing among some books he took from a suitcase, he has kind of finished his stash (which isn’t as big as people though, at least not in relation to books) and now he rolls his eyes and says fine, whatever, let’s give it a shot. He’s dying of boredom anyway.
So here it’s page one and it’s The man in black fled across the desert and the gunslinger followed and suddenly he needs to correct his judgment, because the problem is that it isn’t a good starting sentence. It’s a fucking brilliant starting sentence. He doesn’t need to read further down to envision the scene; he sees the black point fleeing across the horizon raising small clouds of sand, he sees this other Clint Eastwood shaped silhouette following him maybe with a gun drawn in his hand, he can feel the hot sun burning over his skin and then he blinks and snaps out into reality. He’s sitting in his tent, it’s cool outside, it’s almost sunset for that matter. No desert, no gunslinger, no man in black.
He thinks that maybe he should check the plot on the back cover.
But then again, why? That’d be no surprise, right?
The desert was the apotheosis of all deserts, huge, standing to the sky for what looked like eternity in all directions.
End.
Title: Whirl Away
Pairing: Desmond/Sayid
Rating: light NC17
Disclaimer: This is me being hopeful. Of course Lost isn't mine.
Word count: 647
Spoilers: S4 finale.
Summary: He isn't doing this just because he's so desperate that he'll take any kind of comfort that brings his mind away from the real world, but also because they have been sharing the cabin for a week and Sayid has barely given a sign of acknowledging he's here at all.
A/N: originally for erika325 for that trick and treat fic post. Using for lostpicksix #2, kissing. Title stolen from Patti Smith.
It happens in a second or something like it. Desmond can't remember. He knows that one moment they were talking, or better, he was saying something once in a while and Sayid was staying in silence, and the other one they were sitting on his bed in his and Sayid's shared cabin on the ship returning them to his personal hell. Penny isn't here, of course; but of course saving her life was worth enough going back with them. After all, he was given a choice and if it was either you come back or Ben goes along with his plan and you’ll be able to escape until a certain point was enough.
He knows he has business to fix himself; but he doesn't think about it now, not as Sayid's lips cover his, moving slowly against them, and as he can't help doing anything but reciprocate, his fingers running easily through Sayid's long, straight, raven-black strands of hair.
He isn't doing this just because he's so desperate that he'll take any kind of comfort that brings his mind away from the real world, but also because they have been sharing the cabin for a week and Sayid has barely given a sign of acknowledging he's here at all. From nothing to this, that's quite the jump and Desmond doesn't really think that it'd be wise to stop. Especially if it manages to get Sayid out of this bloody mood which will probably end up rubbing on him soon, like he doesn’t have his own problems (not least one named Claire and he wants to punch himself for behaving the way he did) and like Sayid needs it anyway.
So they kiss; Sayid's lips are just so soft and Desmond shivers as Sayid's tongue runs across his bottom lip and then as Sayid lightly bites it; there's a shiver running down his spine and Desmond's other hand goes to Sayid's cheek, feeling his beard not as accurately trimmed as he would have thought, but after all it's not like he's taking much care of such things these days, either.
The kiss doesn't break and it's still slow; Sayid tastes of that spicy meat they had at dinner (that someone had at dinner; Jack didn’t touch food, for example) and Desmond's hands fall further down, around Sayid's waist, pulling him closer, feeling him moan into the kiss and pushing Sayid just a bit against him; Desmond's fingers find silk and expensive cloth and he can't just place it, not with the Sayid he had briefly known on that freighter.
But things have changed and he hopes Penny would understand if he's doing this right now, as his hand opens up Sayid's expensive, black trousers; as he takes him into his hand, as Desmond's thigh rubs against Sayid's leg and his hand gets Sayid off while Sayid's lips hover along his neck.
Sayid comes not much later and Desmond can't help feeling some kind of relief when he sees that those bloody expensive trousers which don't feel like Sayid at all are ruined. As he lies on the bed, waiting for Sayid to strip him down, he wonders whether this night they'll share the bunk or not. That feels more of a betrayal than anything else, but he feels like he needs it and like Sayid needs it; he doesn't even know if he'll see her again and he can't just stand the thought. He figures he and Sayid are both on their own right now; might as well being on their bloody own together, he thinks as Sayid's hands close over his hips and then his mind goes a completely different way until he comes, and comes hard as his body is shaken by countless shivers.
They do share the bunk, in the end. It's narrow, it's uncomfortable, the blanket is too small. It doesn't matter at all.
End.
Title: Here I Go And I Don't Know Why
Pairing: Boone/Claire
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Ha, Lost is not mine. What news.
Word count: 749
Spoilers: White Rabbit? Is that a spoiler?
Summary: It starts the day when he apologizes to her for the water. He’s really sorry and absolutely ashamed and the way Arzt looks at him when he says he’s sorry surely doesn’t make things easier.
A/N: for lenina20 who 'forced' me on the meme down here. ♥ Using for un_love_you #11, Thought I needed this. Uhm, did I really finally tried the pairing? Title stolen from Patti Smith.
It starts the day when he apologizes to her for the water. He’s really sorry and absolutely ashamed and the way Arzt looks at him when he says he’s sorry surely doesn’t make things easier.
But while he’s sorry and ashamed, he’s also sincere and completely miserable and it doesn’t take a degree to realize how uncomfortable this business is making him. Claire answers that of course he didn’t need to apologize, he was just trying to help and she really feels uncomfortable too because he really didn’t deserve the cold shoulder treatment he’s receiving. He just nods telling him he’ll just try not to bother her anymore and then she says he doesn’t really bother her and that he can drop by anytime he wants.
Yeah, that’s probably when it starts.
--
He does drop by. They talk usually about nothing too important and it’s fine; Claire is really okay with talking shop. God knows she could use more.
Then one day she thinks that he really is cute. Well, okay, cute in regards to the attitude. He brings her a small bottle of water from the caves any time he passes by, he’s just so nice while at the same time looking somewhat sad, even if she can’t exactly place why. But well, she has to be fair: there’s something to him which isn’t necessarily in the fact that well, the man is indeed good looking. Maybe it’s because of the way his eyes smile when he does, or because of that melancholy that comes with him like it was part of just the way he is.
Also, while he’s nice to her he actually doesn’t treat her like she’s made of glass. She appreciates it.
--
Then one day when there’s nobody around except for the sea (she had asked him if he’d like to take a walk and he had said sure) there’s that something about him again which draws her like a magnet even more, maybe because it’s sunset and he looks a bit ethereal in that rosy-golden light and so she just does the thing she had sort of wished she could do since she watched Bridget Jones’ Diary with her best friend years ago (when if someone told her she’d be pregnant while doing it she’d have laughed, or something). She just stops, takes his head in her hands and kisses him.
She’s the most shocked one when he kisses back.
--
And then she learns something that Shannon would have told her at once, if she had thought to ask her.
If there’s one thing Boone Carlyle is incapable of doing, is saying no (especially when you’re a girl, you’re a blonde and with a completely different attitude from his sister’s, but Claire doesn’t know this and it doesn’t matter anyway, since the other thing about Boone Carlyle is that he always does what he does sincerely).
The thing, Claire thinks, is that pregnancy makes people think you don’t have any kind of desire of that kind. Wrong, because the thing is that she has. She has and while Boone has said that fingers is the farthest he will go, that’s enough. More than enough.
Because apart from that he never says no, he’s careful. And delicate. And considerate. And he kisses her thoroughly, and he tastes just so good, and his mouth always hovers near her lips when those fingers of his do something and she comes with a sigh, her arms around his neck and those eyes of his staring straight into hers, blue and clear and hazy and concentrated just on her, his hand maybe slowly brushing her swollen belly.
--
It has started and it still isn’t over even if Claire figures it will have to be. She just thinks she will miss the way his eyes always lit up as soon as he sees her smile at him.
End.
Title: Revenge Is A Kind of Wild Justice
Pairing: Boone/Shannon
Rating: light R
Disclaimer: It should be clear that Lost isn't mine.
Word count: 580
Spoilers: In Traslation maybe?
Summary: She wants him to hate her because it’s not fair that she needs to hate him and and he just doesn’t get it. She needs someone to have her revenge on and since she won’t ever get any on Sabrina, it’s got to be him. Even if he doesn’t really have much of a fault.
A/N: uhm, this one is for me I guess, because I like myself Boone angst. ;) ;) seriously, I wrote it in class, has been sitting for a while and since I was having the ficlet dump.. using for un_love_you #16, I want to break you. Title stolen from some Francis Bacon quote. I'm not worthy.
It’s not really surprising that after his (pretty expected) impetuosity as soon as he gave in and kissed her back, she’s the one ending up on top.
Well, since it’s Boone we’re talking about, Shannon isn’t really surprised. Maybe he needs it because he doesn’t want to think he has any control over this. Fine. Not a problem at all.
His touches are gentle, his hands are warm, he kisses her deeply and slowly, he takes every inch of her in with his eyes and his fingers like he can’t see her and touch her enough; she hates it. She wants this to be hard and quick and painful, not the perfect fuck he’s aiming at.
Because every touch speaks volumes and every touch says that he loves her and that’s not what she wants. She wants him to hate her because it’s not fair that she needs to hate him and and he just doesn’t get it. She needs someone to have her revenge on and since she won’t ever get any on Sabrina, it’s got to be him. Even if he doesn’t really have much of a fault.
She doesn’t listen to some inner voice telling her to call this off and walk away and spare him what’s coming after because he doesn’t deserve it; she meets his hips as they thrust up, she meets his lips and lets him kiss her as he likes.
She lets him have his perfect fuck and plays along. She moves the same way, adjusts to his rythm, digs her nails into his skin, sure that they’ll leave marks. She comes just after he does, she lets him hold her for a while.
Then she tells him that they’ll go back to what it was and she thinks she can hear the sound of his heart shattering and breaking and crumbling into little pieces.
She takes a breath and pretends she doesn’t give a damn. After all that’s what she wanted. It’s her revenge, and what an exquisitely achieved one.
--
Then they crash and she realizes that nothing has changed really, because he still loves her anyway like the hopeless moron he is, except that now he’s beyond any repair. While he’s always the same now there’s a certain frailty to the way he acts, a certain urgency and desperation and helplessness in everything he does. He had always wanted to be the hero of the day who saves the damsel in distress, but not in the obsessive compulsive way he tries now. Not to mention that the effort he puts in his trying is in inverse proportion to his success, since there isn’t a single time he hasn’t fucked things up one way or the other.
Then everything changes just like that and one day he just gives her the cold shoulder and practically disappears from her life. He barely talks to her now, he isn’t around anymore, sometimes he does speak to her and she can sense just how unhappy he is now as he was before.
Then stuff happens and she accepts from Sayid what she has never accepted from him. She can’t help wondering how deep she exactly hurt him; what she knows for sure, though, and what hurts her to some degree (and well, now that isn’t exactly the outcome she’d have predicted), is that even if Boone wasn’t beyond repair (and she can just sense he is), it’d hardly be her job to undo what she’s done.
End.
Oh wow. That was hard. Okay, I'm done. ;)