Lost, Jack/Boone, PG-13, Kissing, Hot Nights/Days, Scars, Domesticity(ish); 1/3hitlikehammersApril 23 2010, 01:03:38 UTC
The young man’s not even his patient -- it’s only by chance that he even sees the trauma team bring him in; fact was, he’d heard that one of the triage nurses was pregnant, and he’d wanted to stop over on his break to offer his congratulations. They’d slept together his first week, after all
( ... )
Lost, Jack/Boone, PG-13, Kissing, Hot Nights/Days, Scars, Domesticity(ish); 2/3hitlikehammersApril 23 2010, 01:05:32 UTC
Being with Boone is something new, for Jack; something exciting and intimate and rough and above all else, something that makes him feel like there’s a reason, like there’s meaning in the world -- he feels grounded in this, like it balances the untethered parts of his life that float away sometimes, before their time. Boone’s his rock; an island in the center of the ocean, bright and strong and beautiful, young and naive, but somehow the depth of him, the weight of him -- somehow, he’s more than the sum of his parts
( ... )
Lost, Jack/Boone, PG-13, Kissing, Hot Nights/Days, Scars, Domesticity(ish); 3/3hitlikehammersApril 23 2010, 01:05:57 UTC
Boone’s booked to leave for Europe -- some fashion conference that Jack’s inevitably forgotten the details of, beyond the aching knowledge that whatever it is, it means that Boone will be gone and Jack will be alone in the interim.
Something about it doesn’t feel right, though, more than just the separation; and Jack finds himself distracted, his blood pumping harder, faster as his scalpel breaks skin -- so when Ajira 316 lands safely in Milan, there’s a weight that lifts from his shoulders, the text message from Boone’s number comforting, though not as much as his voice through the line minutes later, thousands of miles away, right next to him; his laugh ringing through Jack’s chest as he sighs, as the tension seeps from his pores and he falls into the chair behind his desk, his fingers slicked with sweat from the lights in the OR, from the fear behind his every cut as he runs his hands through his hair and breathes, just breathes.
There was nothing to worry about.
And knowing that, believing that; it feels like a brand new
( ... )
Re: Lost, Jack/Boone, PG-13, Kissing, Hot Nights/Days, Scars, Domesticity(ish); 3/3ozmissageApril 23 2010, 15:31:10 UTC
This may or may not have reduced me to a crying mess of fangirl (it definitely did.)
Everything about this is simply perfect. It's so lyrical and haunting and still sweet and happy. I love the way you fit the two worlds together, how they remember, but don't all at once. So many parts gave me goosebumps, this one in particular made all shivery in the best possible way:
when their gazes meets through glass, something snaps in him, something forgotten, flooding and overflowing; something critical.
Boone, that’s the man’s name; and somehow, when Jack lets the sound, the syllable slip silently through his mind, it falls against the backdrop of rolling waves, the slush of sand underfoot, the rustle of leaves and a heat that’s only half the sun.
This whole fic is simply stunning and it captures everything I love about these two. They feel so settled and oh wait, I have to quote this too because it made me feel so warm and hopeful (and also because this is exactly how I want this show to end, with everyone feeling exactly like this):
Re: Lost, Jack/Boone, PG-13, Kissing, Hot Nights/Days, Scars, Domesticity(ish); 3/3haldoor_honeyApril 28 2010, 07:54:42 UTC
Oh, this is gorgeous! So lush, and beautifully wound together with the Lost we know and yet somehow isn't theirs while still being something they remember. Absolutely gorgeous! ;-)
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Something about it doesn’t feel right, though, more than just the separation; and Jack finds himself distracted, his blood pumping harder, faster as his scalpel breaks skin -- so when Ajira 316 lands safely in Milan, there’s a weight that lifts from his shoulders, the text message from Boone’s number comforting, though not as much as his voice through the line minutes later, thousands of miles away, right next to him; his laugh ringing through Jack’s chest as he sighs, as the tension seeps from his pores and he falls into the chair behind his desk, his fingers slicked with sweat from the lights in the OR, from the fear behind his every cut as he runs his hands through his hair and breathes, just breathes.
There was nothing to worry about.
And knowing that, believing that; it feels like a brand new ( ... )
Reply
Everything about this is simply perfect. It's so lyrical and haunting and still sweet and happy. I love the way you fit the two worlds together, how they remember, but don't all at once. So many parts gave me goosebumps, this one in particular made all shivery in the best possible way:
when their gazes meets through glass, something snaps in him, something forgotten, flooding and overflowing; something critical.
Boone, that’s the man’s name; and somehow, when Jack lets the sound, the syllable slip silently through his mind, it falls against the backdrop of rolling waves, the slush of sand underfoot, the rustle of leaves and a heat that’s only half the sun.
This whole fic is simply stunning and it captures everything I love about these two. They feel so settled and oh wait, I have to quote this too because it made me feel so warm and hopeful (and also because this is exactly how I want this show to end, with everyone feeling exactly like this):
( ... )
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