Okay. So I've been stalking this for a while. Loved this chapter - I have this unhealthy love for angst, especially when I know it will end happily. The boys are pretty when they're suffering.
I love that Jack wants to understand Sawyer and fight for Sawyer.
Sawyer had known even then that it was the last time, even as he’d stopped fighting Jack and given in. He closes his eyes, needing to hold on to the memory of Jack’s body, of Jack’s hands pushing him down onto the bed, of himself already hard from all the fighting that came before, both of them so hard and ready, Jack tearing blindly at his clothes, too impatient to wait for them each to undress themselves, trying to strip them both bare at the same time. Sawyer had stopped struggling, had given in, not out of lust though there was plenty of that, but because he’d wanted to give Jack that one last night of happiness before he destroyed what they had forever. He’d wanted to give it to Jack, but even more than that, he’d needed to take it for himself.
Oh God.
By the way, if by Staffordshire figurine you mean Staffordshire in England, chances are it was made in my home town. Stoke is where Wedgewood and Royal Doulton started and even though a lot of the old pot banks have closed, we're still called The Potteries.
Hee, it makes me smile to know my story has stalkers. :)
Poor Jack, understanding Sawyer is a JOB. But I love our stubborn Doc, he doesn't give up easily. Sawyer might've just met his match!
And yes, I DID mean Staffordshire in England! I hostess in an antebellum home every spring, and the lady whose home I give tours of has a collection of Staffordshire dogs. And I have Wedgewood china. That is so interesting to know that it comes from your home town! And another coincidence? I grew up on Staffordshire Blvd. in, um, Sawyer's hometown! Honestly, it seems like everything having to do with Lost is all about fate.
Jack's stubborness is something I identify with, and therefore can never dislike in him. I have moments when I briefly consider falling out of love with him, but Jack and I always pull through.
I have this thing where I'm a huge fangirl of my hometown and will gladly talk anyone's ear off about it for hours. I get it from my grandmothers - one was the pillar-of-the-community type in a hundred clubs and committees, the other is a local history buff. But yes, the city of Stoke's main claim to fame is the beautiful china, especially Wedgewood. We also use the word 'duck' as an endearment. Which I'm told is strange, but that the cute accent makes up for it. :)
I love that Jack wants to understand Sawyer and fight for Sawyer.
Sawyer had known even then that it was the last time, even as he’d stopped fighting Jack and given in. He closes his eyes, needing to hold on to the memory of Jack’s body, of Jack’s hands pushing him down onto the bed, of himself already hard from all the fighting that came before, both of them so hard and ready, Jack tearing blindly at his clothes, too impatient to wait for them each to undress themselves, trying to strip them both bare at the same time. Sawyer had stopped struggling, had given in, not out of lust though there was plenty of that, but because he’d wanted to give Jack that one last night of happiness before he destroyed what they had forever. He’d wanted to give it to Jack, but even more than that, he’d needed to take it for himself.
Oh God.
By the way, if by Staffordshire figurine you mean Staffordshire in England, chances are it was made in my home town. Stoke is where Wedgewood and Royal Doulton started and even though a lot of the old pot banks have closed, we're still called The Potteries.
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Poor Jack, understanding Sawyer is a JOB. But I love our stubborn Doc, he doesn't give up easily. Sawyer might've just met his match!
And yes, I DID mean Staffordshire in England! I hostess in an antebellum home every spring, and the lady whose home I give tours of has a collection of Staffordshire dogs. And I have Wedgewood china. That is so interesting to know that it comes from your home town! And another coincidence? I grew up on Staffordshire Blvd. in, um, Sawyer's hometown! Honestly, it seems like everything having to do with Lost is all about fate.
I'm so glad you're reading and liking! *hugs*
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I have this thing where I'm a huge fangirl of my hometown and will gladly talk anyone's ear off about it for hours. I get it from my grandmothers - one was the pillar-of-the-community type in a hundred clubs and committees, the other is a local history buff. But yes, the city of Stoke's main claim to fame is the beautiful china, especially Wedgewood. We also use the word 'duck' as an endearment. Which I'm told is strange, but that the cute accent makes up for it. :)
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