fic, Lost/Firefly fusion: the perks of being a space pirate (Charlie/Desmond, ORGY), light NC17
Oh dear WHAT HAVE I DONE FF WHAT HAVE I DONE. The luau is already making damage here.
Title: the perks of being a space pirate
Rating: light NC17
Pairing: Charlie/Desmond, then ORGY. And when I say ORGY, I mean ORGY. In capital letters.
Words: 6500
Summary: the Lost/Firefly fusion where Sawyer has a ship, Miles is his second-in-command, Desmond is the ship's priest, a bunch of other people are there, the key word on the ship is free love and Charlie is the musician Sawyer just hired. And where the hero of Canton is Sayid, but he hates that song.
Spoilers: er, AU? For Lost none really, for Firefly general premises and some stuff but really, it's a fusion so no one from Firefly actually appears.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Joss Whedon, please forgive me for this. Darlton not so much.
A/N: the gracious Queen toestastegood asked for 'the future' lostsquee luau. Today, I spent six hours in a library copying notes regarding Kant. I had the idea while doing that. Obviously it probably means I need my head checked, but still. I also wrote it while listening on repeat to the original Hero Of Canton song, and I probably shouldn't have. This is crack, sort of, so my only advice would be: don't take it too seriously. And I hope it fits the bill. ;) and since I'm here, using for au_abc, outerspace, and au_bingo, criminals. Oh dear what have I done. Also: all the planet names were used on Firefly and Wikipedia says it. I don't have the imagination for coming up with that kind of stuff.
Some year around 2500, or whatever, take my word for it, in a galaxy far, far away… No, don't worry, I'm not ripping anything else off Star Wars.
--
“He robbed from the rich, and he gave to the poor
Stood up to the man, and gave him what for
Our love for him now ain't hard to explain,
The Hero Of Canton, the man they call Sayid…”
Bloody hell, Charlie thinks as he sings that goddamn ballad for the tenth time today, I hate that song.
If only because he has been playing it for ages and he’s bored to tears of it by now, but it’s always popular and he’s currently stranded on this fucking Persephone planet which he totally doesn’t know and he was supposed to sing for this joint which closed exactly the day after he got here after spending all of his money on the ride.
At times he wonders why he decided to earn his living playing bloody music instead of just learning to shoot as mostly everyone else does where he comes from, but then again Charlie never was a great shot and he hates blood, and if it means playing on some road’s corner hoping to get enough money together to buy some food and possibly a ticket back to some planet he fucking knows, he’ll endure it.
Sure, at times he’d really like a steady job, but musicians don’t get steady job these times and in this solar system, so he’ll just bear it. And well, in two hours of playing the same song without respite he did get enough money to buy himself at least dinner; if his fingers don’t give out or if he doesn’t die of boredom he might even keep that on for another while.
Sounds like a bloody plan.
“Now here is what separates heroes from common folk like you and I, the man they call Sayid, he turned 'round his plane and let that money hit sky…” he keeps on, and he wonders if that story is even real. Most probably it isn’t. And then he realizes a couple of things at once.
Number one: his light is currently blocked by a shadow belonging to someone who is most definitely taller than Charlie is. Number two: this someone threw into his hat an amount of money that would totally cover his meals for another week.
He realizes he shouldn’t have stopped playing exactly when he already has, but before he can blather anything else, the man crouches down and stares at him right in the eyes. Charlie takes a quick look at him: definitely tall, long-ish dark blond hair, light stubble, most definitely piercing green eyes which are way too amused for their own good, used boots, dark flannel, gun on his belt, a brown coat…
Brown coat? Oh, fuck. Everyone that Charlie met who owned one was a bloody criminal or something because it was in the bunch that lost the war and he isn’t exactly sure that he wants to die today. In spite of the lack of excitement in his life lately.
“Don’t fret, midget, I ain’t the one who’s going to end you. I was just merely curious about one thing.”
“Oh. Well. Then ask, mate, I’m, uh, all ears?” Charlie mutters, not caring about how not dignified is the fact that he’s clutching his guitar.
“Where did you learn that song?”
“Around? I’ve never been to Canton or met this Sayid bloke, but it’s popular and I need to buy my lunch.”
“Seems to me like you’re pretty good at this. Miles!”
Charlie hears footsteps from around the corner and oh, fantastic, Mr. Browncoat here has a friend, who is thankfully not as tall, looks definitely from some Chinese-or-close-to-that planet in the system and damn, he has guns too.
“Yeah, Jim?”
“You heard him playing before. I think it was good, wasn’t it?”
“The song? Yes, I’ve got to admit it was. Much better than the usual versions one hears around. Why, are you actually thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Seems like our friend here is lacking means to buy his dinner.”
“Doesn’t sound like a bad idea to me. You want to ask him, just do. You’re the boss, right?”
“Fine. Hey, how are things going inside anyway?”
“All clear. Esau is going to spill for once, or so it seems.”
“Good. Then go finish that, I’ll have a talk with him here. Call me if there’s any trouble.”
“Will do,” the guy, Miles, says before going back inside the joint, and this other one, Jim or whatever, turns towards Charlie again.
“So, let’s say that I got an offer for you. Would you hear that?”
“It’s not like I have an alternative, right?”
“You’re a smart guy. Let’s see if you can guess my job. I ain’t gonna to shoot you if you’re wrong.”
“Oh. Okay. Uhm. Well, this place here isn’t exactly where you go when you want to earn legal money, and I had experiences with people wearing a coat like yours, and your friend was talking about this Esau who apparently is some smuggler from what I heard, which means… whatever you’re doing, that isn’t exactly legal?”
“Why, aren’t you just right,” Jim answers with a slightly amused tone. “Yeah, that ain’t exactly legal. Point is, I got this ship parked here and we stopped to see if Esau has a job for us. Now, we’re nine people in there, and you see, things can get boring at times. Especially when you’re traveling through space without a fucking job and so on.”
“And how does this concern me?”
“We decided that having a musician wouldn’t be that bad of an idea. It could spice things up. Also, it’d save me from everyone else trying to sing stuff, ‘cause I swear, that ship is full of people that can’t hit a fucking note.”
“Wait. You’re asking me to join your crew in mostly illegal activities or I heard wrong?” Charlie asks, and well, he’s actually closer to shrieking, but still.
“Oh, I’m askin’ you to join my crew alright, but I got enough people to cover the illegal business. So? There’s food, a bunk on your own and you get to share whatever money we make outta our business, in the right proportions.”
Charlie thinks about that for a minute. Effectively, if they just didn’t do illegal stuff, it wouldn’t be that bad of an offer. Food and a place to sleep would be enough than his average, and even if he doesn’t get a lot of payment (since he figures that people who actually did the illegal stuff would get a higher share) it still would be money. But the point is, that’d be a ship of bloody criminals.
“Uh. Well. That’s… nice. I guess. But… I should ask you first… how are your mates? Because, uhm, if you’re all mercenaries and former soldiers and stuff, I probably should turn this down, without hard feelings, if…”
That’s when he has to stop because the Jim guy has started laughing. Hard.
“What’s so bloody fun in this?” Charlie snaps after a minute or so, and Jim wipes his eyes still laughing.
“You don’t have a fuckin’ idea of who exactly’s in my ship. Don’t worry, the most dangerous people on there are me, my pal there and our other pal who’s currently inside takin’ care of business, and just one of us is a mercenary if you wanna know it all. And that ain’t me or Miles.”
“Oh. That’s, definitely, uhm, good to know.”
“So? You got about five minutes before they’re done, if not less. And we ain’t exactly the waitin’ kind, if you get what I mean.”
Charlie thinks about it for another thirty seconds and well, if he has to eat it’ll be a month before he has even half the money he’d need for a ride out. Also, his life isn’t what you’d exactly call exciting, especially when he has spent the last six months singing bloody The Hero Of Canton more than anything else. And for being a criminal, this Jim person doesn’t seem that bad, and that Miles person didn’t even, and if they’re fine then the other dangerous one won’t just sneak up on him and kill him, right?
“Fine, I’m taking it,” Charlie says as he stands up quickly, “but please, don’t make me sing that. I mean, nice song and all, but I hate it. Kind of.”
He gets a hard pat on the back at that and he has to cough. Damn guy with the browncoat is strong.
“Oh, don’t worry. I wasn’t gonna ask you that. Actually, you really shouldn’t. You’ll get why in a second. Well, well, then welcome to the team. What’s your name?”
Right. Because Charlie just accepted a job for a criminal without even knowing his proper name.
“Charlie. What about you? Isn’t it Jim?”
“I’m Sawyer. Only Miles gets to call me like that,” Sawyer says rolling his eyes. “Clear?”
“Clear. No Jim. Not ever,” Charlie mutters, and gains another pat on the back. And a second later, Miles gets out of the bar along with a guy with dark skin, clothes similar to Sawyer’s but without the coat, long and curly black hair tied in a ponytail and the hugest shotgun Charlie has ever seen under his arm.
Oh, sweet Jesus, what has he just done?”
“Hey, Miles, everything okay?”
“Yeah, fucker spilled out. So, what about here?”
“We apparently have a new musician,” Sawyer says with a nonchalance that would make Charlie feel quite insulted if we weren’t talking about a guy who could kill him in a split second, and then Miles stares at him raising his eyebrow and then comes closer.
“You didn’t sound that bad before. Well then, I guess you’re coming back with us. You probably guessed my name already, didn’t you?”
“Miles, right? I’m Charlie.”
“Yeah, right. Then I just hope you have a wide repertory. Oh, by the way, he’s Sayid,” he adds with a certain nonchalance, even if his smile as he says it is downright evil.
The black skinned man comes forward, moving sort of really gracelessly, before giving his hand to Charlie to shake.
“Nice to meet you,” he says with a tone that is totally polite and courteous and nice and not like he has probably just threatened to snap someone’s neck inside the…
Wait a second, Sayid?
Charlie mutters an equal introduction and when Sayid goes close to Sawyer apparently discussing what went on inside the bar, Charlie gets closer to Miles and starts whispering, hoping that Sayid doesn’t hear him.
“Hey, mate, sorry, but he’s that Sayid?”
Miles chuckles and nods before taking a step closer to the other two.
“Yep, he is. Just don’t sing that in his presence. He’s kind of sick of it, too,” he says before joining the group, and Charlie thinks that it’s cold sweat running down his neck.
What did he even get into?
--
Two hours later, as the ship flies out into space headed wherever they have business to attend, he thinks he got into the wackiest, craziest crew that ever was.
Fine, you have the captain which is a charming devil and a second mate who’s sarcastic enough for five people and a mercenary with good manners which from what he’s told apologizes to people before breaking their fingers, but that was just the beginning.
The pilot, Frank, is actually quite good if you ask Charlie. He’s friendly, he flies the ship wearing fucking red shirts with flowers printed on them, offered him a drink which was actually bloody good alcohol and he’s nice to talk to. Nothing to say against the pilot.
Then he ended up meeting the local priest, or not really. Because this Desmond fellow apparently was a former monk, then left the monastery for not better specified reasons, goes around the ship with a half-open blue shirt which shows a huge portion of tanned chest and well, apparently Sayid out of everyone wanted a priest on their ship to confess to and considering that they were outlaws and all, they couldn’t get a proper one. Or well, Desmond apparently didn’t have a problem with the criminals part of it. Also, apparently the local priest loves Frank’s whiskey. Also, he’s way too good looking for being a monk or a priest or anything religious, Charlie thinks, but he doesn’t say that when they introduce.
He also tries not to stare at Desmond’s chest too much.
Oh, and the mechanic? The mechanic, Boone, is young, roughly Charlie’s age, and really, at that age one shouldn’t be good enough to manage a complicated engine like that, but the point is, he’s freaking pretty. He has the face of the person with money that goes to parties and marries a nice girl, with his huge blue eyes, pink straight cheekbones, full lips that are apparently always deep red because he keeps on licking them while working on the engine and most definitely lithe body. And from what he says, he used to be high society on some planet Charlie didn’t get, except that right now his face is smeared in grease and his white shirt is too and apparently he thinks it’s the most awesome thing ever.
Just for the record, Charlie wouldn’t even know where to start with engines.
Then he bumped into these two people coming from the same direction, a man and a woman, both dressed properly for a change (actually, way too properly; he wears velvet and she wears silk), both looking like they come from a planet named Gorgeous or Too-Pretty-To-Be-Real. (and they are beautiful, indeed: she’s tall and perfectly proportioned while thin, has long blond hair with stunning blue eyes, and has the kindest voice Charlie ever heard. He’s even taller, with dark eyes and dark hair and lashes so ridiculously thick and long that it looks like he actually used cosmetics on them even if on a closer look he didn’t). They introduce themselves as Juliet and Richard and it takes Charlie about five minutes to realize that they share an entire section of the ship (and that they have their own small airship, from what he gathers from Juliet’s discussion with Boone behind his shoulders) and that they are both companions and that they’re renting that space. Well, Charlie figures, at least they have manners and they’re both awfully nice.
(By the way, the ship is named fucking Watership Down, which is downright ridiculous. A ship named Watership? Seriously? He’d like to ask Sawyer what the hell of a name is it but he kept his mouth shut when he was told the name. He then asks Desmond instead, a couple of days later. Apparently Sawyer likes reading and he has a bunch of books in his cabin, mostly Old Earth books, and that’s a name of his favorite, or one that he really likes. Which he apparently stole from Boone ages ago, but at that point Charlie knows enough.)
(Also, the way Miles and Richard greet each other is way too friendly for Charlie’s standards, but hey, he’s just arrived, it’s not his business.)
Then there’s the doctor, Jack, who is apparently very competent and is quite nice even if he looks kind of broody, and who has a tendency to bicker with Sawyer even if from what Charlie saw it was more friendly bickering than anything else, and who on the other side looks kind of close with at least Boone and Sayid. Which would all be awesome for Charlie, and then he meets his sister.
(Desmond tells him the whole story later. Apparently he sucks at keeping secrets unless it’s something he was told while confessing people.)
So, Claire (who is actually his half-sister, from what Charlie learns from Desmond after their introduction, if you call literally bumping into each other because she was running for some reason introduction and she ran right into him; also she doesn’t look like Jack at all, and it explains a lot) would be a perfectly lovely girl. Her only problems are that she apparently doesn’t like to brush her hair much and that some crazy scientist at her former school started running tests on her bloody brain. Now, when Jack found out (Desmond says) he dropped everything to rescue her, and he did manage to (and they apparently got on the ship in that circumstances), except that for a consequence the girl woke up with mild schizophrenia, at times she gets delusional and she apparently has her share of nightmares. From what Desmond says, because from what Charlie has seen of her she’s perfectly nice and sweet and lovely, with her long blond hair and blue eyes circling a round face with a lovely smile, but then again he has been here for two hours. Also she apparently really likes his singing, which has brought to him spending forty-five minutes of said last two hours in her room showing how exactly good he is at his job, but then again that’s what he was hired for, right? And she seems pretty much okay, as a whole. Hair excluded.
Well, they’re a bunch of peculiar people, but at least Sawyer wasn’t lying when he said that it wasn’t a ship full of mercenaries.
And at least Charlie doesn’t have to sing The Hero Of Canton anymore, or at least he won’t have to for a while.
At this point, he thinks he can pretty much deal with all the rest.
And yes, Claire does seem to have pretty bad nights at times, but apparently she ‘got over the worst of her problems’ lately, according to everyone, and so he just doesn’t mind it.
--
Then he realizes why Desmond doesn’t make a lousy priest, all things considered. Or, not that lousy. Or well, he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s the only one that doesn’t sleep around, but he’s kind of the only person on the ship who doesn’t sleep with at least two others.
More or less.
See, he had thought that Sawyer and Juliet had a certain tension at the beginning, but they didn’t act on that because of, you know, job related matters; except that at one point he had had the same impression about Jack and Juliet, which most definitely didn’t compute.
This until he walked in on Juliet and Sawyer kissing in some hallway of the ship at three AM when he was just going to grab some water because he was goddamn thirsty, and then he had caught Juliet and Jack one afternoon while passing in front of the infirmary’s room, and they were beyond kissing by that point. Saying that it had been mildly confusing is an understatement.
Then one evening during dinner Jack and Sawyer were friendly bickering and at one point in order to shut Sawyer up, instead of just telling him like any normal person, Jack bloody frenched him.
He had ended up with his food half stuck in his mouth, unable to munch on it, until Boone lightly elbows him and Charlie forces himself to swallow. And when he turns to Boone, he’s actually half-smiling and looking pretty amused there. What?
“They do that all the time,” Boone whispers at that point. “They just pretend they don’t like each other.”
“But… aren’t… isn’t one of them with Juliet, too?”
Boone just shakes his head and smiles again. “Man, she needs to realize rooms are there for a reason. But don’t worry, no one is cheating on anyone. Though, do you want some advice?”
“Uh. Well. Yes. Please. Feel free.”
Boone’s voice lowers down a bit. “I think you could use, you know, a hand. You’ve been pretty tense since you got here.”
Charlie almost chokes on his water.
“And with whom, if I may ask?”
Boone doesn’t answer, or at least, he does, but it’s a wink.
And well, Boone is definitely a sight for sore eyes and Charlie hasn’t gotten laid in ages, sadly, which is how it ends with the both of them rutting against each other one hour later in the engine room, and well, if Boone isn’t another whole kind of sight for sore eyes when he comes, Charlie doesn’t know how to describe him.
Also, that mouth of his is fucking skilled.
So, Charlie doesn’t really blush when Boone tells him that it was amazing, and they totally could do it more often.
Then the next day he passes in front of the infirmary again and he has to run when he sees Boone literally sodding riding Jack on a chair, and he bumps into Claire and then he’s too worried apologizing before she rolls her eyes and shrugs at him.
“See that as evening things out, won’t you? After all I ran into you when we met, didn’t we?”
“Oh. Yeah. Right. Well, fine, it’s even now.”
“So, what were you escaping from?”
Charlie thinks that he blushes red, very red, and is only too relieved when she just laughs and shakes her head.
“Oh, I gather you looked into the infirmary? Yeah, well, I usually avoid it because it’s my brother, you know. Kind of freaky. But when he isn’t there… why not sneaking a glimpse?” she winks at him, and Charlie’s jaw drops.
“Why, because… uh. Does someone else use the infirmary?”
Claire heads to the kitchen and gets herself a nice glass of water before turning towards him again. “Uh-huh. You should have had a look when Sawyer and Sayid were in there. Or when Richard and Sayid were. Now that was a sight for sore eyes, if only for a couple of seconds” she sighs, her voice a dreamy tone which Charlie would have found creepy if only Claire wasn’t just so nice, and so he lets that drop and wonders what he could sing tonight after everyone else comes from some not-better-specified job in this godforsaken planet.
The day he realizes that it’s not just a question that goes on between the infirmary, the engine room, random hallways and the five people he thought were involved, it’s when at one point Richard and Miles start kissing, with a certain gusto, during dinner, too (and Charlie was actually singing an awesome rendition of that song from Old Earth that went by, My Darling Clementine. His rendition was also being quite spot on, and it had been hard not to just stop and stare, mostly at how everyone else just totally ignored that). Or well, better: everyone seemed to ignore that except for Frank, who just was looking with a certain glint in his eyes, and when they decided that they were done he fucking gave them both an appointment in the pilot’s cabin.
Charlie totally avoided it on purpose, that evening, and thank fuck for autopilots and for them just heading for Persephone again because they’re jobless and apparently Esau is a bastard that likes to be deceiving but he always has jobs and apparently likes Sawyer a lot.
Well, he’d like to know who doesn’t like Sawyer, and it’s not like he isn’t included in the group because he does like the guy, even if he doesn’t really want to know how exactly illegal his business is.
Then again it sounds like he doesn’t kill anyone for money and he looks like he likes chivalry too much to do it, even if of the entirety of people in the ship the only one who could pull off chivalry would be Richard, in Charlie’s opinion. Sawyer is too rough for that, and if Charlie has to guess he has had a life too rough for that, too; it shows in his face and in the times when he takes off alone to the pilot’s cabin and stares at the sky or brushes his fingers lovingly against the ship like it’s his only home. That makes him human but definitely not suited for chivalry. (Also, he was told of some time when he ended up in a sword duel to apparently defend Juliet’s honor. From what Boone told him, he won that, but it was graceless and not exactly a proper duel. Charlie doesn’t think he wants to imagine it). The rest? Jack just lacks the bedside manner that a doctor would need (the only time Charlie needed stitching up because he fell down some stairs in the ship almost breaking his head, Jack had calmly and nicely said that an inch to his left would have killed him and next time he should pay attention. Not even one at least you’re okay), Desmond and Frank drink too much, Miles swears too much and Boone fixes engines because he didn’t want to do chivalry. And Sayid shoots people for a job, even if he does it with style, Charlie has to give him that. (And at least he’s the only one who doesn’t do the kissing in public thing.)
Figures. Well, he definitely isn’t on a ship where manners are important, not that he cares. It’s a pirate spaceship, right?
Also, it does make sense that Desmond is the only one not fooling around, but it seems like Claire isn’t part of the fun, either.
He sort of tries to ask her. She laughs that nice, lovely, carefree laugh of hers and answers him that when they fuck up with your brain you’d really like to get well first and it might not seem so but she really isn’t totally okay, and furthermore, while Boone is cute and all, and Sawyer does have his charm, no one is her type and so she just likes to guess combinations. And by the way, she was pretty much fucking amazing at anything before, and she’s still a smart cookie now, she’s pretty sure she will recover completely one day, and there hasn’t been a time when she hasn’t guessed. Charlie makes the mistake of asking her what’s the current bet.
Boone and Richard, engine room, in the next two days.
The following day Charlie is playing shit at random just to practice something new, not that far from the engine room, and Richard comes out of it definitely looking like he had a bloody great time. Considering that no one is in that room if Boone isn’t in first, Charlie figures that Claire was right.
He’s also kind of ashamed that this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship made of betting on likely and unlikely combinations and of being the only two people on the ship who didn’t take an oath of chastity and aren’t having sex with anyone.
(Or at least, Charlie still trades handjobs in the engine room pretty much regularly, like, once each week regularly, but just the fact that he does it with just one person and that person is Boone because he’s the only one with whom having sex isn’t an idea that makes Charlie freak out should say enough. Charlie always was a pretty monogamous person, not that he judges everyone else. He’d just rather spend his energies on one relationship, you know.)
Still, it’s a lovely friendship and Claire is actually great, when you don’t care about the fact that she doesn’t brush her hair, and she’s a lot smarter than him and if at times she spaces out or she bites her lip or if her fingers shake and start gripping the hems of the skirts she always wears, Charlie just maybe holds her hand once in a while and doesn’t mind it at all.
--
Still, one day he ends up sharing more than a drink with Desmond.
It’s kind of a long story, but to sum it up: Sayid, Miles and Sawyer were dealing with some current-job-related matter and weren’t bound to be back on the ship until late. Therefore, he’ts at dinner with everyone else when Juliet says that she’d just love to hear that hero of Canton song. Charlie tries to refuse, but you know. Juliet is hard to refuse, with her kind manners, even voice and kind smile, and Sayid isn’t here, so why not?
Except that when he’s at the man they called Sayid stole away our pain and headed for the stars, guess who gets back (earlier) from the job?
Right, Sawyer, Sayid and Miles. While first and third just look amused and obviously bite their tongue in order not to laugh, Sayid glares at him.
Now, there are people who are cut for their job.
Sayid is in the bloody group, because if Charlie decides that he wants to get smashed just because Sayid stared at him for thirty seconds, it means he’s good at what he does.
Also Charlie is pretty sure that he’ll never play that song ever again.
He likes having his fingers too much for that.
Then that evening, while he’s about to reach Desmond in the kitchen, catches a glimpse of Sayid’s room (the door was bloody open!), where, ohdear, Sayid is most definitely kissing Jack who is most definitely taking his shirt off and saying something along the lines of ‘come on, Juliet asked him, you should just make peace with that damned song’.
Charlie goes into the kitchen and shuts the door.
“Hi there brother,” Desmond says from his chair (also: he calls everyone brother because he was adjusted to that in the monastery. Charlie will never not find it creepy). “Is there somethin’ you need?”
“Yes. I need to get bloody wasted.”
Desmond laughs and nods towards the chair next to his. “Then be my guest,” he says, and that’s how Charlie ends up drinking with Desmond and finds out that he really isn’t so bad if you want to have a mostly sane conversation.
And that’s when he has the umpteenth confirm that Desmond has no problem whatsoever with sharing the ship’s facts.
Which is why in the end he decides to ask the question. He’s pretty much drunk enough to.
“Mate, just to know, but how are you okay with this whole thing? I mean, I am, but most other priests I met, they’d run.”
“Brother, the Bible was written too long ago to still read it literarily. And well, they bloody love each other, more or less, let ‘em do their thing. Then again, I’m on a criminal spaceship. I need to be flexible, aye?”
“That’s a point, I guess.”
“Hey, are you from Dyton? Just a guess,” Charlie asks, because he’s pretty sure that it’s the right accent, and it’d be a goddamn fucking relief to know he’s around someone that comes from the first moon you meet flying away from Charlie’s planet.
“You guessed the accent, didn’t you? And I bet you’re from Greenleaf.”
“Bloody hell, yes,” Charlie confirms, and they both toast at that.
--
So, since it wasn’t that bad of an experience, Charlie goes there again the next evening, and the next, until it becomes a tradition.
And well, when you spend most of your free time playing music because it’s what you’re here for, a nice drink is good for your throat.
Also, on this particular evening, Charlie needs to tell Claire that she’s unfair. She bet on Sawyer and Miles while he had on Sayid and Juliet and she totally guessed it. He’s already losing all his fruit rations to her and he still finds it totally unfair.
So yes, more often than not, he needs a drink, and having it in company is definitely nicer than alone. And so he goes to the kitchen and sits next to Desmond and takes his glass, and they toast to whatever happens to be a good subject and they have their drink.
And for some reason Charlie decides to ask the only other question he always refrained from asking because it really was inappropriate.
“Uh, can I ask you something which I really wouldn’t ask if I was completely sober?”
“I much doubt you’ll manage to scare me for life, brother.”
“Since you, uh, have your interpretations of the Bible and you’re totally okay with this whole thing going around on the ship, why don’t you… uh, you know. Considering that you don’t exactly have a robe, you know.”
Desmond lets out a laugh and shakes his head, long brown hair falling over his eyes, and well, he does have a nice smile, Charlie has to admit it.
“And that was supposed to be inappropriate? Come on, you’ve been here for months.”
“Well, yeah, I have, but…”
“Oh, don’t you get that riled up. I just like it best to stick with one person if I have to, the way they do it is sodding work and it’s just not my thing.”
“You know, I’m this close to weeping of joy. I was sure I was the only one with that opinion. Claire not included.”
Which is when he actually realizes that he’s staring at Desmond and that Desmond is staring back, and that Desmond’s shirt has lost another button if Charlie recalls correctly, and well, Desmond is most definitely not hard on the eyes.
Point is, Desmond is looking at him like he’s thinking the same thing, shirt not included.
“What a coincidence,” Desmond says, his voice suddenly lower, and Charlie suddenly realizes that he likes Desmond’s voice.
Or that at least one part of his body, below the waist, likes it even more.
“Isn’t it just?” Charlie echoes lamely, and then Desmond’s chair suddenly moves closer. Bringing Desmond along, of course.
So, it ends with the both of them stumbling towards Desmond’s cabin while kissing, because for some reason kissing Desmond feels great and his lips are soft and his tongue is reaching everywhere inside Charlie’s mouth, and when they’re there Charlie can’t even remember who started taking clothes off first. Which doesn’t really matter because then they’re both naked and Desmond really, really has a nice body, compact and lithe and with soft, tanned skin. His hands aren’t as rough as Charlie’s (playing a guitar for a living will make them rough, though maybe not as much as being a space pirate or what the fuck Sawyer is) but his fingers are long and skilled when they trace random patters on Charlie’s skin or when they close around his cock and Desmond smiles when Charlie starts moaning and has to hide his face into the pillow in order not to wake whoever’s sleeping next room.
Jack, he thinks.
Who cares, anyway. And Desmond gets him off like it’s easy and nice and totally not awkward, and Charlie thinks fuck it, he’s tired of thinking in straight terms about the whole policy going on in this ship. And he liked Des and they apparently have the same idea about how you should do a relationship, and if Charlie always liked women better until now, well, it seems like his head has other ideas and he won’t start having problems with it now. Not when Desmond is still rock hard beneath him, his hips lightly jerking up while he’s rubbing against Charlie’s thigh, and you know, after Desmond made him sort of see stars which aren’t the ones out of the window with his hand… now, it’d be just rude not to reciprocate, right?
And so Charlie drops his head down, takes Desmond in his mouth as graciously as he can manage on a bunk made for one person and even if it tastes strange and bitter and he has never done this before, he has been on the receiving end enough times. He tries not to overthink anything and just starts moving his head slowly, without rush, licking along the head at the same time before taking it deeper, and Desmond fucking hardens further inside his mouth as his hips jerk up without a steady pace.
Charlie smirks internally and proceeds on sucking him off slowly, without a hurry and making sure he does a thorough job, and since he’s there he also lets his hand reach behind the base and rub just underneath. He kind of likes it.
Then he realizes that Desmond likes it too, and when he comes in Charlie’s mouth seconds later, Charlie swallows it all and then, well, if Desmond wants to kiss, who is he to refuse?
And so he doesn’t, and he stays the night, too, and not only because he’s too tired to get back to his own bed.
He doesn’t notice that Claire is sitting outside, on the stairs near the engine room, where you can totally have a good look at Desmond’s room, and while she hasn’t seen anything because they were careful enough to shut the door, she has totally heard enough.
Also, it had totally been on her list, but it’s not like she had exactly shared with Charlie. And so she smiles and watches the stars from the window for another while.
--
Which is how, some five months after accepting a crazy job from a guy with a brown coat and a gun outside that joint in Persephone, Charlie finds himself in a fucking sort of steady relationship with a former monk who confesses Sayid in the morning and has amazing sex with him in the evening and doesn’t have a single problem with it.
Also he still has a job, he isn’t playing Hero Of Canton anymore and he and Sayid are on perfectly nice terms again, he has a bit of money coming in, too, everyone in the ship apparently was just waiting for him to hook up with anyone and loosen up, Sawyer still does illegal shit but he does it happily, he’s still friends with Claire and thankfully Jack is only too happy that they are and he really can’t complain about any of it.
Also, as stated, he’s bloody glad that Desmond is a man of open views.
Then one day Miles tells him that they might need him to come for this job because they need someone to play the civilian, they can’t risk anyone else on the ships for such an easy blitz (and Juliet and Richard are doing their own job anyway), the three of them can’t play civilian anymore (Charlie suspects it’s also because Sawyer can’t ever take off that coat) and he seems like he has guts enough. Is he up for it?
Charlie says yes before actually weighing the consequences, and when he does he realizes that if he does it then he automatically becomes some kind of space pirate, but well. It’ll just make things even with everyone else in the ship (hey, even Claire goes on missions because she’s a valuable asset most times and she’s crazy smart, and in theory she shouldn’t from what she implies).
Also, he won’t ever say it out loud, but since he stopped playing Hero of Canton for good, he has started thinking that being a space pirate is really kind of bloody awesome. And by now, he’s pretty sure of it.
End.
Title: the perks of being a space pirate
Rating: light NC17
Pairing: Charlie/Desmond, then ORGY. And when I say ORGY, I mean ORGY. In capital letters.
Words: 6500
Summary: the Lost/Firefly fusion where Sawyer has a ship, Miles is his second-in-command, Desmond is the ship's priest, a bunch of other people are there, the key word on the ship is free love and Charlie is the musician Sawyer just hired. And where the hero of Canton is Sayid, but he hates that song.
Spoilers: er, AU? For Lost none really, for Firefly general premises and some stuff but really, it's a fusion so no one from Firefly actually appears.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Joss Whedon, please forgive me for this. Darlton not so much.
A/N: the gracious Queen toestastegood asked for 'the future' lostsquee luau. Today, I spent six hours in a library copying notes regarding Kant. I had the idea while doing that. Obviously it probably means I need my head checked, but still. I also wrote it while listening on repeat to the original Hero Of Canton song, and I probably shouldn't have. This is crack, sort of, so my only advice would be: don't take it too seriously. And I hope it fits the bill. ;) and since I'm here, using for au_abc, outerspace, and au_bingo, criminals. Oh dear what have I done. Also: all the planet names were used on Firefly and Wikipedia says it. I don't have the imagination for coming up with that kind of stuff.
Some year around 2500, or whatever, take my word for it, in a galaxy far, far away… No, don't worry, I'm not ripping anything else off Star Wars.
--
“He robbed from the rich, and he gave to the poor
Stood up to the man, and gave him what for
Our love for him now ain't hard to explain,
The Hero Of Canton, the man they call Sayid…”
Bloody hell, Charlie thinks as he sings that goddamn ballad for the tenth time today, I hate that song.
If only because he has been playing it for ages and he’s bored to tears of it by now, but it’s always popular and he’s currently stranded on this fucking Persephone planet which he totally doesn’t know and he was supposed to sing for this joint which closed exactly the day after he got here after spending all of his money on the ride.
At times he wonders why he decided to earn his living playing bloody music instead of just learning to shoot as mostly everyone else does where he comes from, but then again Charlie never was a great shot and he hates blood, and if it means playing on some road’s corner hoping to get enough money together to buy some food and possibly a ticket back to some planet he fucking knows, he’ll endure it.
Sure, at times he’d really like a steady job, but musicians don’t get steady job these times and in this solar system, so he’ll just bear it. And well, in two hours of playing the same song without respite he did get enough money to buy himself at least dinner; if his fingers don’t give out or if he doesn’t die of boredom he might even keep that on for another while.
Sounds like a bloody plan.
“Now here is what separates heroes from common folk like you and I, the man they call Sayid, he turned 'round his plane and let that money hit sky…” he keeps on, and he wonders if that story is even real. Most probably it isn’t. And then he realizes a couple of things at once.
Number one: his light is currently blocked by a shadow belonging to someone who is most definitely taller than Charlie is. Number two: this someone threw into his hat an amount of money that would totally cover his meals for another week.
He realizes he shouldn’t have stopped playing exactly when he already has, but before he can blather anything else, the man crouches down and stares at him right in the eyes. Charlie takes a quick look at him: definitely tall, long-ish dark blond hair, light stubble, most definitely piercing green eyes which are way too amused for their own good, used boots, dark flannel, gun on his belt, a brown coat…
Brown coat? Oh, fuck. Everyone that Charlie met who owned one was a bloody criminal or something because it was in the bunch that lost the war and he isn’t exactly sure that he wants to die today. In spite of the lack of excitement in his life lately.
“Don’t fret, midget, I ain’t the one who’s going to end you. I was just merely curious about one thing.”
“Oh. Well. Then ask, mate, I’m, uh, all ears?” Charlie mutters, not caring about how not dignified is the fact that he’s clutching his guitar.
“Where did you learn that song?”
“Around? I’ve never been to Canton or met this Sayid bloke, but it’s popular and I need to buy my lunch.”
“Seems to me like you’re pretty good at this. Miles!”
Charlie hears footsteps from around the corner and oh, fantastic, Mr. Browncoat here has a friend, who is thankfully not as tall, looks definitely from some Chinese-or-close-to-that planet in the system and damn, he has guns too.
“Yeah, Jim?”
“You heard him playing before. I think it was good, wasn’t it?”
“The song? Yes, I’ve got to admit it was. Much better than the usual versions one hears around. Why, are you actually thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Seems like our friend here is lacking means to buy his dinner.”
“Doesn’t sound like a bad idea to me. You want to ask him, just do. You’re the boss, right?”
“Fine. Hey, how are things going inside anyway?”
“All clear. Esau is going to spill for once, or so it seems.”
“Good. Then go finish that, I’ll have a talk with him here. Call me if there’s any trouble.”
“Will do,” the guy, Miles, says before going back inside the joint, and this other one, Jim or whatever, turns towards Charlie again.
“So, let’s say that I got an offer for you. Would you hear that?”
“It’s not like I have an alternative, right?”
“You’re a smart guy. Let’s see if you can guess my job. I ain’t gonna to shoot you if you’re wrong.”
“Oh. Okay. Uhm. Well, this place here isn’t exactly where you go when you want to earn legal money, and I had experiences with people wearing a coat like yours, and your friend was talking about this Esau who apparently is some smuggler from what I heard, which means… whatever you’re doing, that isn’t exactly legal?”
“Why, aren’t you just right,” Jim answers with a slightly amused tone. “Yeah, that ain’t exactly legal. Point is, I got this ship parked here and we stopped to see if Esau has a job for us. Now, we’re nine people in there, and you see, things can get boring at times. Especially when you’re traveling through space without a fucking job and so on.”
“And how does this concern me?”
“We decided that having a musician wouldn’t be that bad of an idea. It could spice things up. Also, it’d save me from everyone else trying to sing stuff, ‘cause I swear, that ship is full of people that can’t hit a fucking note.”
“Wait. You’re asking me to join your crew in mostly illegal activities or I heard wrong?” Charlie asks, and well, he’s actually closer to shrieking, but still.
“Oh, I’m askin’ you to join my crew alright, but I got enough people to cover the illegal business. So? There’s food, a bunk on your own and you get to share whatever money we make outta our business, in the right proportions.”
Charlie thinks about that for a minute. Effectively, if they just didn’t do illegal stuff, it wouldn’t be that bad of an offer. Food and a place to sleep would be enough than his average, and even if he doesn’t get a lot of payment (since he figures that people who actually did the illegal stuff would get a higher share) it still would be money. But the point is, that’d be a ship of bloody criminals.
“Uh. Well. That’s… nice. I guess. But… I should ask you first… how are your mates? Because, uhm, if you’re all mercenaries and former soldiers and stuff, I probably should turn this down, without hard feelings, if…”
That’s when he has to stop because the Jim guy has started laughing. Hard.
“What’s so bloody fun in this?” Charlie snaps after a minute or so, and Jim wipes his eyes still laughing.
“You don’t have a fuckin’ idea of who exactly’s in my ship. Don’t worry, the most dangerous people on there are me, my pal there and our other pal who’s currently inside takin’ care of business, and just one of us is a mercenary if you wanna know it all. And that ain’t me or Miles.”
“Oh. That’s, definitely, uhm, good to know.”
“So? You got about five minutes before they’re done, if not less. And we ain’t exactly the waitin’ kind, if you get what I mean.”
Charlie thinks about it for another thirty seconds and well, if he has to eat it’ll be a month before he has even half the money he’d need for a ride out. Also, his life isn’t what you’d exactly call exciting, especially when he has spent the last six months singing bloody The Hero Of Canton more than anything else. And for being a criminal, this Jim person doesn’t seem that bad, and that Miles person didn’t even, and if they’re fine then the other dangerous one won’t just sneak up on him and kill him, right?
“Fine, I’m taking it,” Charlie says as he stands up quickly, “but please, don’t make me sing that. I mean, nice song and all, but I hate it. Kind of.”
He gets a hard pat on the back at that and he has to cough. Damn guy with the browncoat is strong.
“Oh, don’t worry. I wasn’t gonna ask you that. Actually, you really shouldn’t. You’ll get why in a second. Well, well, then welcome to the team. What’s your name?”
Right. Because Charlie just accepted a job for a criminal without even knowing his proper name.
“Charlie. What about you? Isn’t it Jim?”
“I’m Sawyer. Only Miles gets to call me like that,” Sawyer says rolling his eyes. “Clear?”
“Clear. No Jim. Not ever,” Charlie mutters, and gains another pat on the back. And a second later, Miles gets out of the bar along with a guy with dark skin, clothes similar to Sawyer’s but without the coat, long and curly black hair tied in a ponytail and the hugest shotgun Charlie has ever seen under his arm.
Oh, sweet Jesus, what has he just done?”
“Hey, Miles, everything okay?”
“Yeah, fucker spilled out. So, what about here?”
“We apparently have a new musician,” Sawyer says with a nonchalance that would make Charlie feel quite insulted if we weren’t talking about a guy who could kill him in a split second, and then Miles stares at him raising his eyebrow and then comes closer.
“You didn’t sound that bad before. Well then, I guess you’re coming back with us. You probably guessed my name already, didn’t you?”
“Miles, right? I’m Charlie.”
“Yeah, right. Then I just hope you have a wide repertory. Oh, by the way, he’s Sayid,” he adds with a certain nonchalance, even if his smile as he says it is downright evil.
The black skinned man comes forward, moving sort of really gracelessly, before giving his hand to Charlie to shake.
“Nice to meet you,” he says with a tone that is totally polite and courteous and nice and not like he has probably just threatened to snap someone’s neck inside the…
Wait a second, Sayid?
Charlie mutters an equal introduction and when Sayid goes close to Sawyer apparently discussing what went on inside the bar, Charlie gets closer to Miles and starts whispering, hoping that Sayid doesn’t hear him.
“Hey, mate, sorry, but he’s that Sayid?”
Miles chuckles and nods before taking a step closer to the other two.
“Yep, he is. Just don’t sing that in his presence. He’s kind of sick of it, too,” he says before joining the group, and Charlie thinks that it’s cold sweat running down his neck.
What did he even get into?
--
Two hours later, as the ship flies out into space headed wherever they have business to attend, he thinks he got into the wackiest, craziest crew that ever was.
Fine, you have the captain which is a charming devil and a second mate who’s sarcastic enough for five people and a mercenary with good manners which from what he’s told apologizes to people before breaking their fingers, but that was just the beginning.
The pilot, Frank, is actually quite good if you ask Charlie. He’s friendly, he flies the ship wearing fucking red shirts with flowers printed on them, offered him a drink which was actually bloody good alcohol and he’s nice to talk to. Nothing to say against the pilot.
Then he ended up meeting the local priest, or not really. Because this Desmond fellow apparently was a former monk, then left the monastery for not better specified reasons, goes around the ship with a half-open blue shirt which shows a huge portion of tanned chest and well, apparently Sayid out of everyone wanted a priest on their ship to confess to and considering that they were outlaws and all, they couldn’t get a proper one. Or well, Desmond apparently didn’t have a problem with the criminals part of it. Also, apparently the local priest loves Frank’s whiskey. Also, he’s way too good looking for being a monk or a priest or anything religious, Charlie thinks, but he doesn’t say that when they introduce.
He also tries not to stare at Desmond’s chest too much.
Oh, and the mechanic? The mechanic, Boone, is young, roughly Charlie’s age, and really, at that age one shouldn’t be good enough to manage a complicated engine like that, but the point is, he’s freaking pretty. He has the face of the person with money that goes to parties and marries a nice girl, with his huge blue eyes, pink straight cheekbones, full lips that are apparently always deep red because he keeps on licking them while working on the engine and most definitely lithe body. And from what he says, he used to be high society on some planet Charlie didn’t get, except that right now his face is smeared in grease and his white shirt is too and apparently he thinks it’s the most awesome thing ever.
Just for the record, Charlie wouldn’t even know where to start with engines.
Then he bumped into these two people coming from the same direction, a man and a woman, both dressed properly for a change (actually, way too properly; he wears velvet and she wears silk), both looking like they come from a planet named Gorgeous or Too-Pretty-To-Be-Real. (and they are beautiful, indeed: she’s tall and perfectly proportioned while thin, has long blond hair with stunning blue eyes, and has the kindest voice Charlie ever heard. He’s even taller, with dark eyes and dark hair and lashes so ridiculously thick and long that it looks like he actually used cosmetics on them even if on a closer look he didn’t). They introduce themselves as Juliet and Richard and it takes Charlie about five minutes to realize that they share an entire section of the ship (and that they have their own small airship, from what he gathers from Juliet’s discussion with Boone behind his shoulders) and that they are both companions and that they’re renting that space. Well, Charlie figures, at least they have manners and they’re both awfully nice.
(By the way, the ship is named fucking Watership Down, which is downright ridiculous. A ship named Watership? Seriously? He’d like to ask Sawyer what the hell of a name is it but he kept his mouth shut when he was told the name. He then asks Desmond instead, a couple of days later. Apparently Sawyer likes reading and he has a bunch of books in his cabin, mostly Old Earth books, and that’s a name of his favorite, or one that he really likes. Which he apparently stole from Boone ages ago, but at that point Charlie knows enough.)
(Also, the way Miles and Richard greet each other is way too friendly for Charlie’s standards, but hey, he’s just arrived, it’s not his business.)
Then there’s the doctor, Jack, who is apparently very competent and is quite nice even if he looks kind of broody, and who has a tendency to bicker with Sawyer even if from what Charlie saw it was more friendly bickering than anything else, and who on the other side looks kind of close with at least Boone and Sayid. Which would all be awesome for Charlie, and then he meets his sister.
(Desmond tells him the whole story later. Apparently he sucks at keeping secrets unless it’s something he was told while confessing people.)
So, Claire (who is actually his half-sister, from what Charlie learns from Desmond after their introduction, if you call literally bumping into each other because she was running for some reason introduction and she ran right into him; also she doesn’t look like Jack at all, and it explains a lot) would be a perfectly lovely girl. Her only problems are that she apparently doesn’t like to brush her hair much and that some crazy scientist at her former school started running tests on her bloody brain. Now, when Jack found out (Desmond says) he dropped everything to rescue her, and he did manage to (and they apparently got on the ship in that circumstances), except that for a consequence the girl woke up with mild schizophrenia, at times she gets delusional and she apparently has her share of nightmares. From what Desmond says, because from what Charlie has seen of her she’s perfectly nice and sweet and lovely, with her long blond hair and blue eyes circling a round face with a lovely smile, but then again he has been here for two hours. Also she apparently really likes his singing, which has brought to him spending forty-five minutes of said last two hours in her room showing how exactly good he is at his job, but then again that’s what he was hired for, right? And she seems pretty much okay, as a whole. Hair excluded.
Well, they’re a bunch of peculiar people, but at least Sawyer wasn’t lying when he said that it wasn’t a ship full of mercenaries.
And at least Charlie doesn’t have to sing The Hero Of Canton anymore, or at least he won’t have to for a while.
At this point, he thinks he can pretty much deal with all the rest.
And yes, Claire does seem to have pretty bad nights at times, but apparently she ‘got over the worst of her problems’ lately, according to everyone, and so he just doesn’t mind it.
--
Then he realizes why Desmond doesn’t make a lousy priest, all things considered. Or, not that lousy. Or well, he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s the only one that doesn’t sleep around, but he’s kind of the only person on the ship who doesn’t sleep with at least two others.
More or less.
See, he had thought that Sawyer and Juliet had a certain tension at the beginning, but they didn’t act on that because of, you know, job related matters; except that at one point he had had the same impression about Jack and Juliet, which most definitely didn’t compute.
This until he walked in on Juliet and Sawyer kissing in some hallway of the ship at three AM when he was just going to grab some water because he was goddamn thirsty, and then he had caught Juliet and Jack one afternoon while passing in front of the infirmary’s room, and they were beyond kissing by that point. Saying that it had been mildly confusing is an understatement.
Then one evening during dinner Jack and Sawyer were friendly bickering and at one point in order to shut Sawyer up, instead of just telling him like any normal person, Jack bloody frenched him.
He had ended up with his food half stuck in his mouth, unable to munch on it, until Boone lightly elbows him and Charlie forces himself to swallow. And when he turns to Boone, he’s actually half-smiling and looking pretty amused there. What?
“They do that all the time,” Boone whispers at that point. “They just pretend they don’t like each other.”
“But… aren’t… isn’t one of them with Juliet, too?”
Boone just shakes his head and smiles again. “Man, she needs to realize rooms are there for a reason. But don’t worry, no one is cheating on anyone. Though, do you want some advice?”
“Uh. Well. Yes. Please. Feel free.”
Boone’s voice lowers down a bit. “I think you could use, you know, a hand. You’ve been pretty tense since you got here.”
Charlie almost chokes on his water.
“And with whom, if I may ask?”
Boone doesn’t answer, or at least, he does, but it’s a wink.
And well, Boone is definitely a sight for sore eyes and Charlie hasn’t gotten laid in ages, sadly, which is how it ends with the both of them rutting against each other one hour later in the engine room, and well, if Boone isn’t another whole kind of sight for sore eyes when he comes, Charlie doesn’t know how to describe him.
Also, that mouth of his is fucking skilled.
So, Charlie doesn’t really blush when Boone tells him that it was amazing, and they totally could do it more often.
Then the next day he passes in front of the infirmary again and he has to run when he sees Boone literally sodding riding Jack on a chair, and he bumps into Claire and then he’s too worried apologizing before she rolls her eyes and shrugs at him.
“See that as evening things out, won’t you? After all I ran into you when we met, didn’t we?”
“Oh. Yeah. Right. Well, fine, it’s even now.”
“So, what were you escaping from?”
Charlie thinks that he blushes red, very red, and is only too relieved when she just laughs and shakes her head.
“Oh, I gather you looked into the infirmary? Yeah, well, I usually avoid it because it’s my brother, you know. Kind of freaky. But when he isn’t there… why not sneaking a glimpse?” she winks at him, and Charlie’s jaw drops.
“Why, because… uh. Does someone else use the infirmary?”
Claire heads to the kitchen and gets herself a nice glass of water before turning towards him again. “Uh-huh. You should have had a look when Sawyer and Sayid were in there. Or when Richard and Sayid were. Now that was a sight for sore eyes, if only for a couple of seconds” she sighs, her voice a dreamy tone which Charlie would have found creepy if only Claire wasn’t just so nice, and so he lets that drop and wonders what he could sing tonight after everyone else comes from some not-better-specified job in this godforsaken planet.
The day he realizes that it’s not just a question that goes on between the infirmary, the engine room, random hallways and the five people he thought were involved, it’s when at one point Richard and Miles start kissing, with a certain gusto, during dinner, too (and Charlie was actually singing an awesome rendition of that song from Old Earth that went by, My Darling Clementine. His rendition was also being quite spot on, and it had been hard not to just stop and stare, mostly at how everyone else just totally ignored that). Or well, better: everyone seemed to ignore that except for Frank, who just was looking with a certain glint in his eyes, and when they decided that they were done he fucking gave them both an appointment in the pilot’s cabin.
Charlie totally avoided it on purpose, that evening, and thank fuck for autopilots and for them just heading for Persephone again because they’re jobless and apparently Esau is a bastard that likes to be deceiving but he always has jobs and apparently likes Sawyer a lot.
Well, he’d like to know who doesn’t like Sawyer, and it’s not like he isn’t included in the group because he does like the guy, even if he doesn’t really want to know how exactly illegal his business is.
Then again it sounds like he doesn’t kill anyone for money and he looks like he likes chivalry too much to do it, even if of the entirety of people in the ship the only one who could pull off chivalry would be Richard, in Charlie’s opinion. Sawyer is too rough for that, and if Charlie has to guess he has had a life too rough for that, too; it shows in his face and in the times when he takes off alone to the pilot’s cabin and stares at the sky or brushes his fingers lovingly against the ship like it’s his only home. That makes him human but definitely not suited for chivalry. (Also, he was told of some time when he ended up in a sword duel to apparently defend Juliet’s honor. From what Boone told him, he won that, but it was graceless and not exactly a proper duel. Charlie doesn’t think he wants to imagine it). The rest? Jack just lacks the bedside manner that a doctor would need (the only time Charlie needed stitching up because he fell down some stairs in the ship almost breaking his head, Jack had calmly and nicely said that an inch to his left would have killed him and next time he should pay attention. Not even one at least you’re okay), Desmond and Frank drink too much, Miles swears too much and Boone fixes engines because he didn’t want to do chivalry. And Sayid shoots people for a job, even if he does it with style, Charlie has to give him that. (And at least he’s the only one who doesn’t do the kissing in public thing.)
Figures. Well, he definitely isn’t on a ship where manners are important, not that he cares. It’s a pirate spaceship, right?
Also, it does make sense that Desmond is the only one not fooling around, but it seems like Claire isn’t part of the fun, either.
He sort of tries to ask her. She laughs that nice, lovely, carefree laugh of hers and answers him that when they fuck up with your brain you’d really like to get well first and it might not seem so but she really isn’t totally okay, and furthermore, while Boone is cute and all, and Sawyer does have his charm, no one is her type and so she just likes to guess combinations. And by the way, she was pretty much fucking amazing at anything before, and she’s still a smart cookie now, she’s pretty sure she will recover completely one day, and there hasn’t been a time when she hasn’t guessed. Charlie makes the mistake of asking her what’s the current bet.
Boone and Richard, engine room, in the next two days.
The following day Charlie is playing shit at random just to practice something new, not that far from the engine room, and Richard comes out of it definitely looking like he had a bloody great time. Considering that no one is in that room if Boone isn’t in first, Charlie figures that Claire was right.
He’s also kind of ashamed that this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship made of betting on likely and unlikely combinations and of being the only two people on the ship who didn’t take an oath of chastity and aren’t having sex with anyone.
(Or at least, Charlie still trades handjobs in the engine room pretty much regularly, like, once each week regularly, but just the fact that he does it with just one person and that person is Boone because he’s the only one with whom having sex isn’t an idea that makes Charlie freak out should say enough. Charlie always was a pretty monogamous person, not that he judges everyone else. He’d just rather spend his energies on one relationship, you know.)
Still, it’s a lovely friendship and Claire is actually great, when you don’t care about the fact that she doesn’t brush her hair, and she’s a lot smarter than him and if at times she spaces out or she bites her lip or if her fingers shake and start gripping the hems of the skirts she always wears, Charlie just maybe holds her hand once in a while and doesn’t mind it at all.
--
Still, one day he ends up sharing more than a drink with Desmond.
It’s kind of a long story, but to sum it up: Sayid, Miles and Sawyer were dealing with some current-job-related matter and weren’t bound to be back on the ship until late. Therefore, he’ts at dinner with everyone else when Juliet says that she’d just love to hear that hero of Canton song. Charlie tries to refuse, but you know. Juliet is hard to refuse, with her kind manners, even voice and kind smile, and Sayid isn’t here, so why not?
Except that when he’s at the man they called Sayid stole away our pain and headed for the stars, guess who gets back (earlier) from the job?
Right, Sawyer, Sayid and Miles. While first and third just look amused and obviously bite their tongue in order not to laugh, Sayid glares at him.
Now, there are people who are cut for their job.
Sayid is in the bloody group, because if Charlie decides that he wants to get smashed just because Sayid stared at him for thirty seconds, it means he’s good at what he does.
Also Charlie is pretty sure that he’ll never play that song ever again.
He likes having his fingers too much for that.
Then that evening, while he’s about to reach Desmond in the kitchen, catches a glimpse of Sayid’s room (the door was bloody open!), where, ohdear, Sayid is most definitely kissing Jack who is most definitely taking his shirt off and saying something along the lines of ‘come on, Juliet asked him, you should just make peace with that damned song’.
Charlie goes into the kitchen and shuts the door.
“Hi there brother,” Desmond says from his chair (also: he calls everyone brother because he was adjusted to that in the monastery. Charlie will never not find it creepy). “Is there somethin’ you need?”
“Yes. I need to get bloody wasted.”
Desmond laughs and nods towards the chair next to his. “Then be my guest,” he says, and that’s how Charlie ends up drinking with Desmond and finds out that he really isn’t so bad if you want to have a mostly sane conversation.
And that’s when he has the umpteenth confirm that Desmond has no problem whatsoever with sharing the ship’s facts.
Which is why in the end he decides to ask the question. He’s pretty much drunk enough to.
“Mate, just to know, but how are you okay with this whole thing? I mean, I am, but most other priests I met, they’d run.”
“Brother, the Bible was written too long ago to still read it literarily. And well, they bloody love each other, more or less, let ‘em do their thing. Then again, I’m on a criminal spaceship. I need to be flexible, aye?”
“That’s a point, I guess.”
“Hey, are you from Dyton? Just a guess,” Charlie asks, because he’s pretty sure that it’s the right accent, and it’d be a goddamn fucking relief to know he’s around someone that comes from the first moon you meet flying away from Charlie’s planet.
“You guessed the accent, didn’t you? And I bet you’re from Greenleaf.”
“Bloody hell, yes,” Charlie confirms, and they both toast at that.
--
So, since it wasn’t that bad of an experience, Charlie goes there again the next evening, and the next, until it becomes a tradition.
And well, when you spend most of your free time playing music because it’s what you’re here for, a nice drink is good for your throat.
Also, on this particular evening, Charlie needs to tell Claire that she’s unfair. She bet on Sawyer and Miles while he had on Sayid and Juliet and she totally guessed it. He’s already losing all his fruit rations to her and he still finds it totally unfair.
So yes, more often than not, he needs a drink, and having it in company is definitely nicer than alone. And so he goes to the kitchen and sits next to Desmond and takes his glass, and they toast to whatever happens to be a good subject and they have their drink.
And for some reason Charlie decides to ask the only other question he always refrained from asking because it really was inappropriate.
“Uh, can I ask you something which I really wouldn’t ask if I was completely sober?”
“I much doubt you’ll manage to scare me for life, brother.”
“Since you, uh, have your interpretations of the Bible and you’re totally okay with this whole thing going around on the ship, why don’t you… uh, you know. Considering that you don’t exactly have a robe, you know.”
Desmond lets out a laugh and shakes his head, long brown hair falling over his eyes, and well, he does have a nice smile, Charlie has to admit it.
“And that was supposed to be inappropriate? Come on, you’ve been here for months.”
“Well, yeah, I have, but…”
“Oh, don’t you get that riled up. I just like it best to stick with one person if I have to, the way they do it is sodding work and it’s just not my thing.”
“You know, I’m this close to weeping of joy. I was sure I was the only one with that opinion. Claire not included.”
Which is when he actually realizes that he’s staring at Desmond and that Desmond is staring back, and that Desmond’s shirt has lost another button if Charlie recalls correctly, and well, Desmond is most definitely not hard on the eyes.
Point is, Desmond is looking at him like he’s thinking the same thing, shirt not included.
“What a coincidence,” Desmond says, his voice suddenly lower, and Charlie suddenly realizes that he likes Desmond’s voice.
Or that at least one part of his body, below the waist, likes it even more.
“Isn’t it just?” Charlie echoes lamely, and then Desmond’s chair suddenly moves closer. Bringing Desmond along, of course.
So, it ends with the both of them stumbling towards Desmond’s cabin while kissing, because for some reason kissing Desmond feels great and his lips are soft and his tongue is reaching everywhere inside Charlie’s mouth, and when they’re there Charlie can’t even remember who started taking clothes off first. Which doesn’t really matter because then they’re both naked and Desmond really, really has a nice body, compact and lithe and with soft, tanned skin. His hands aren’t as rough as Charlie’s (playing a guitar for a living will make them rough, though maybe not as much as being a space pirate or what the fuck Sawyer is) but his fingers are long and skilled when they trace random patters on Charlie’s skin or when they close around his cock and Desmond smiles when Charlie starts moaning and has to hide his face into the pillow in order not to wake whoever’s sleeping next room.
Jack, he thinks.
Who cares, anyway. And Desmond gets him off like it’s easy and nice and totally not awkward, and Charlie thinks fuck it, he’s tired of thinking in straight terms about the whole policy going on in this ship. And he liked Des and they apparently have the same idea about how you should do a relationship, and if Charlie always liked women better until now, well, it seems like his head has other ideas and he won’t start having problems with it now. Not when Desmond is still rock hard beneath him, his hips lightly jerking up while he’s rubbing against Charlie’s thigh, and you know, after Desmond made him sort of see stars which aren’t the ones out of the window with his hand… now, it’d be just rude not to reciprocate, right?
And so Charlie drops his head down, takes Desmond in his mouth as graciously as he can manage on a bunk made for one person and even if it tastes strange and bitter and he has never done this before, he has been on the receiving end enough times. He tries not to overthink anything and just starts moving his head slowly, without rush, licking along the head at the same time before taking it deeper, and Desmond fucking hardens further inside his mouth as his hips jerk up without a steady pace.
Charlie smirks internally and proceeds on sucking him off slowly, without a hurry and making sure he does a thorough job, and since he’s there he also lets his hand reach behind the base and rub just underneath. He kind of likes it.
Then he realizes that Desmond likes it too, and when he comes in Charlie’s mouth seconds later, Charlie swallows it all and then, well, if Desmond wants to kiss, who is he to refuse?
And so he doesn’t, and he stays the night, too, and not only because he’s too tired to get back to his own bed.
He doesn’t notice that Claire is sitting outside, on the stairs near the engine room, where you can totally have a good look at Desmond’s room, and while she hasn’t seen anything because they were careful enough to shut the door, she has totally heard enough.
Also, it had totally been on her list, but it’s not like she had exactly shared with Charlie. And so she smiles and watches the stars from the window for another while.
--
Which is how, some five months after accepting a crazy job from a guy with a brown coat and a gun outside that joint in Persephone, Charlie finds himself in a fucking sort of steady relationship with a former monk who confesses Sayid in the morning and has amazing sex with him in the evening and doesn’t have a single problem with it.
Also he still has a job, he isn’t playing Hero Of Canton anymore and he and Sayid are on perfectly nice terms again, he has a bit of money coming in, too, everyone in the ship apparently was just waiting for him to hook up with anyone and loosen up, Sawyer still does illegal shit but he does it happily, he’s still friends with Claire and thankfully Jack is only too happy that they are and he really can’t complain about any of it.
Also, as stated, he’s bloody glad that Desmond is a man of open views.
Then one day Miles tells him that they might need him to come for this job because they need someone to play the civilian, they can’t risk anyone else on the ships for such an easy blitz (and Juliet and Richard are doing their own job anyway), the three of them can’t play civilian anymore (Charlie suspects it’s also because Sawyer can’t ever take off that coat) and he seems like he has guts enough. Is he up for it?
Charlie says yes before actually weighing the consequences, and when he does he realizes that if he does it then he automatically becomes some kind of space pirate, but well. It’ll just make things even with everyone else in the ship (hey, even Claire goes on missions because she’s a valuable asset most times and she’s crazy smart, and in theory she shouldn’t from what she implies).
Also, he won’t ever say it out loud, but since he stopped playing Hero of Canton for good, he has started thinking that being a space pirate is really kind of bloody awesome. And by now, he’s pretty sure of it.
End.