kate/jin
kate/jin
R
appx 350 words
ha ha! i'm in the business of strange pairings, so why not go all the way…
Gravity is sometimes kind, but only when it's physical like this. Or Kate thinks maybe it's not gravity-not that instantaneous-but it's entropy: the slow descent into chaos.
Is this chaos? Jin's hands are rough as they slide over her skin. They're tough when they glide over her thighs and they hold her hard as he kisses her. They do kiss, even if it seems incongruous. Aren't they both just satisfying some urge, because the ones they want are gone?
But somehow, this has become a want of its own. They still don't talk about it, because Jin doesn't know much more English than he did but more because it doesn't require talking, just two bodies crashing into each other from time to time, frantic and hard and kisses so deep and wet and hurried she sometimes can't breathe. Total annihilation of the rest of the world for a few minutes. Jin is precise and relentless about making her come, and she likes not having to pretend this is anything other than a means to a very important end.
The end is a kind of chaos, needed, balanced against the destruction around them. They have to go far from camp to do what they do, because they're loud. Out there, they can let go as much as they need, because the only one who will hear doesn't speak the language. She has no idea what he says when he comes, his whole body pulsing on top of her inside her all around her, just the smell of him and his desperate hardness, but he has the good grace not to say his dead wife's name, just as she never calls out for Jack or Sawyer.
She thinks maybe that's why it is the way it is. It's about them now, slowly wrapping tight around each other and going to whatever place this unraveling land is taking them. They think about each other, not the ones who are gone, and she's not sure if it makes things better or worse. She just knows she needs to feel him on top of her, pinning her to the ground: panting, shaking, throbbing; heavy, solid, constant.
R
appx 350 words
ha ha! i'm in the business of strange pairings, so why not go all the way…
Gravity is sometimes kind, but only when it's physical like this. Or Kate thinks maybe it's not gravity-not that instantaneous-but it's entropy: the slow descent into chaos.
Is this chaos? Jin's hands are rough as they slide over her skin. They're tough when they glide over her thighs and they hold her hard as he kisses her. They do kiss, even if it seems incongruous. Aren't they both just satisfying some urge, because the ones they want are gone?
But somehow, this has become a want of its own. They still don't talk about it, because Jin doesn't know much more English than he did but more because it doesn't require talking, just two bodies crashing into each other from time to time, frantic and hard and kisses so deep and wet and hurried she sometimes can't breathe. Total annihilation of the rest of the world for a few minutes. Jin is precise and relentless about making her come, and she likes not having to pretend this is anything other than a means to a very important end.
The end is a kind of chaos, needed, balanced against the destruction around them. They have to go far from camp to do what they do, because they're loud. Out there, they can let go as much as they need, because the only one who will hear doesn't speak the language. She has no idea what he says when he comes, his whole body pulsing on top of her inside her all around her, just the smell of him and his desperate hardness, but he has the good grace not to say his dead wife's name, just as she never calls out for Jack or Sawyer.
She thinks maybe that's why it is the way it is. It's about them now, slowly wrapping tight around each other and going to whatever place this unraveling land is taking them. They think about each other, not the ones who are gone, and she's not sure if it makes things better or worse. She just knows she needs to feel him on top of her, pinning her to the ground: panting, shaking, throbbing; heavy, solid, constant.