(no subject)
Lighter
Josh Holloway/Johnny Depp
PG-13
Summary: The castaway bums a smoke from the pirate.
Disclaimer: Made the fuck up.
Feedback: Yes, please! Will love you long time.
For autumn_faerie
Pairing instigated by a comment she made in regard to Exodus!Sawyer looking like a pirate with his hair tied back: “Now all he has to do is find Johnny Depp and they can be sexy pirates of the high seas together.”
And thus Josh/Johnny was borne out of the sea like Venus on the half-shell. Or something.
♥
Lighter
In a dark corner of the stale smoke-dense hall, his fingers twitched involuntarily. He inhaled, filling his lungs with the exhalations of all the lucky bastards around him sucking cigarettes between their lips. The temptation to kiss the nearest person just to get a better secondhand hit intensified his craving, making him lick his lips.
This sensation of withdrawal was as new to Josh as the sense that he was now one of them. Correction: one of them. And that realization made him twitch again. He shoved his hands in his pockets.
Hawaii had been safe, insular yet boundless. Fresh air, a small series of islands separated from the smog-domed suffocation of Los Angeles by a deep blue-green swatch of Pacific. He felt open back there: his hands would splay over and mesh with the sand as he swallowed air clear as the sky with Yessica by his side, her hair tickling his neck, soft as a breeze. Here, though, he felt his chest tighten. The city air stuck to his skin--he imagined it left a fine silt layer he could never wash off. And all night, Yessica clung to his arm, both of them afraid of losing each other in the thick crowd of Hollywood elite and the toadying types jumping at their heels (one nearly indistinguishable from the other). With his wife absent now, gone to the ladies room, Josh felt lost at sea. And wasn’t that damn coincidental?
His fingers picked compulsively at the lint in the pockets of his starched black trousers. He longed for his jeans. He longed for a place to sit down. He longed, more than anything, at this moment, for someone to offer him a cigarette. Maybe Yessica wouldn’t notice. He’d simply have to avoid kissing her until he could find breath mints or hard liquor or both.
It was too late now. Breathless, he scanned the faces around him for the first person he could find with a cigarette hanging from his lips. Or hers. Hell, he’d settle for one coated in waxy red lipstick at this point. He just needed that musky paper between his lips, nicotine burning down his throat and stretching into every corner of his lungs, yellowing him with warmth and comfort.
His gaze locked on a man with a goatee, dark brown hair longish and loosely framing his smooth, angular face under a brown fedora. A vagabond-looking sort.
Aw fuck. He was staring intently at the man’s lips and chewing on his own before recognition hit. Johnny fucking Depp. Really? You’re going to bum a smoke from him, he thought, after you’ve been gazing longingly at his mouth? Smooth one, cracker. Very smooth.
Josh slumped against the wall and shifted his eyes in the direction Yessica had gone, but Johnny loomed in his peripheral vision like a sunspot he couldn’t blink away. His thumb wiped roughly against his bottom lip, fingers shaking slightly.
He had to look again, he had to--he couldn’t help it.
Johnny’s lips were crooked at one end in a faint smirk, eyes glinting toward him. Josh pressed his first two fingers against his lips. Johnny nodded, raising his cigarette as if he was toasting Josh, and strode the few feet between them as if he was skimming through the misty surface of the ocean. He stood before Josh, eyes, deep and fathomless, blinking under dense lashes. He inhaled on his cigarette from the corner of his mouth, exhaled from the same corner.
“I hate to bother-”
Josh cut himself off. Johnny held his cigarette between his thumb and forefinger, twirled around so that the lit end now faced him, the tan papery end now inches in front of Josh’s lips. Josh opened his mouth reflexively. Johnny placed the cigarette on his lips. And Josh inhaled so quickly the room spun for a second. He closed his eyes and drowned himself in the sweet submergent smoke.
When he opened his eyes to exhale, Johnny’s fingers were still holding the cigarette near his lips. He breathed out and Johnny’s moved the cigarette back to the center of his lips. Josh drew in again. Johnny drew closer, leaned over to murmur into his ear.
“You quit?”
Josh imagined Johnny’s breath was more smoke, but thicker, heavier. The sound of his voice came on so light, it took a moment to reach Josh’s ears, curling along the shell and settling into the canal. He smiled and nodded and exhaled. “Yeah, yeah.”
Johnny remained close. Josh couldn’t focus on his eyes from here. Too close.
“How’s that working out for you?”
Josh laughed raggedly, smoke sputtering out of his mouth and nostrils like he was a house caught fire. From the corner of his eye, he could see Johnny bow his head and smile widely. He felt a hand lay heavily on his upper arm, heat radiating through the layers of Josh’s suit jacket and shirt.
Maybe he was on fire.
Johnny tipped backward to look him directly in the eyes once again. “That’s my last one,” he spoke loudly, voice still muddied by the din of the partygoers.
“Oh, oh,” Josh blurted mid-exhale. He moved to pluck the cigarette from his mouth, brushing against Johnny’s fingers still holding the cigarette before him.
Johnny held up his other hand. “Keep it.” He smiled and placed the cigarette against Josh’s lips again. Eyes hard and fiery, Johnny forced Josh to meet his gaze. The end of the cigarette swept slowly over Josh’s bottom lip, paper dragging over the sticky skin. Josh swallowed. Johnny traced his upper lip with the end of the cigarette. Josh swallowed again, three tiny gulps, and Johnny’s eyes shot down toward Josh’s bobbing Adam’s apple. When he looked up again, Josh could see the light of the cigarette reflected in his eyes like twin beacons on a pair of islands hidden in the dark sea of night. There was pure wilderness in those eyes, and Josh felt a sharp ache for Oahu’s sprawling shores. Johnny blinked and dipped his head just the smallest amount, and the fires went black.
Between his parted lips, Josh stuttered out air. Johnny stopped him up, sliding his middle finger into the wet center. And then it was gone, replaced by the cigarette. A wet finger stroked a slick line down the center of Josh’s chin, following the inward slope of his neck, bristling the short hairs of his stubble, circling around the ball of his Adam’s apple.
Hooking his fingertips into the collar of Josh’s shirt, Johnny leaned in once more, this time face to face. He sucked in the air that Josh breathed out, lips hovering an inch or two from Josh’s. Heat, red heat and vapor.
“Enjoy,” Johnny whispered cooly, and walked a step backward, smirking again. And raising his hat like some fucking gentleman cowboy in an old Hollywood western, he turned and walked away.
Josh watched him, holding his breath, but the crowd swallowed his brown hazy form within seconds. The smoke seemed to cool within Josh’s lungs, spicy and dry. He exhaled smoke one last time.
Yessica was now walking toward him. And he couldn’t hide the fire he held.
Josh Holloway/Johnny Depp
PG-13
Summary: The castaway bums a smoke from the pirate.
Disclaimer: Made the fuck up.
Feedback: Yes, please! Will love you long time.
For autumn_faerie
Pairing instigated by a comment she made in regard to Exodus!Sawyer looking like a pirate with his hair tied back: “Now all he has to do is find Johnny Depp and they can be sexy pirates of the high seas together.”
And thus Josh/Johnny was borne out of the sea like Venus on the half-shell. Or something.
♥
Lighter
In a dark corner of the stale smoke-dense hall, his fingers twitched involuntarily. He inhaled, filling his lungs with the exhalations of all the lucky bastards around him sucking cigarettes between their lips. The temptation to kiss the nearest person just to get a better secondhand hit intensified his craving, making him lick his lips.
This sensation of withdrawal was as new to Josh as the sense that he was now one of them. Correction: one of them. And that realization made him twitch again. He shoved his hands in his pockets.
Hawaii had been safe, insular yet boundless. Fresh air, a small series of islands separated from the smog-domed suffocation of Los Angeles by a deep blue-green swatch of Pacific. He felt open back there: his hands would splay over and mesh with the sand as he swallowed air clear as the sky with Yessica by his side, her hair tickling his neck, soft as a breeze. Here, though, he felt his chest tighten. The city air stuck to his skin--he imagined it left a fine silt layer he could never wash off. And all night, Yessica clung to his arm, both of them afraid of losing each other in the thick crowd of Hollywood elite and the toadying types jumping at their heels (one nearly indistinguishable from the other). With his wife absent now, gone to the ladies room, Josh felt lost at sea. And wasn’t that damn coincidental?
His fingers picked compulsively at the lint in the pockets of his starched black trousers. He longed for his jeans. He longed for a place to sit down. He longed, more than anything, at this moment, for someone to offer him a cigarette. Maybe Yessica wouldn’t notice. He’d simply have to avoid kissing her until he could find breath mints or hard liquor or both.
It was too late now. Breathless, he scanned the faces around him for the first person he could find with a cigarette hanging from his lips. Or hers. Hell, he’d settle for one coated in waxy red lipstick at this point. He just needed that musky paper between his lips, nicotine burning down his throat and stretching into every corner of his lungs, yellowing him with warmth and comfort.
His gaze locked on a man with a goatee, dark brown hair longish and loosely framing his smooth, angular face under a brown fedora. A vagabond-looking sort.
Aw fuck. He was staring intently at the man’s lips and chewing on his own before recognition hit. Johnny fucking Depp. Really? You’re going to bum a smoke from him, he thought, after you’ve been gazing longingly at his mouth? Smooth one, cracker. Very smooth.
Josh slumped against the wall and shifted his eyes in the direction Yessica had gone, but Johnny loomed in his peripheral vision like a sunspot he couldn’t blink away. His thumb wiped roughly against his bottom lip, fingers shaking slightly.
He had to look again, he had to--he couldn’t help it.
Johnny’s lips were crooked at one end in a faint smirk, eyes glinting toward him. Josh pressed his first two fingers against his lips. Johnny nodded, raising his cigarette as if he was toasting Josh, and strode the few feet between them as if he was skimming through the misty surface of the ocean. He stood before Josh, eyes, deep and fathomless, blinking under dense lashes. He inhaled on his cigarette from the corner of his mouth, exhaled from the same corner.
“I hate to bother-”
Josh cut himself off. Johnny held his cigarette between his thumb and forefinger, twirled around so that the lit end now faced him, the tan papery end now inches in front of Josh’s lips. Josh opened his mouth reflexively. Johnny placed the cigarette on his lips. And Josh inhaled so quickly the room spun for a second. He closed his eyes and drowned himself in the sweet submergent smoke.
When he opened his eyes to exhale, Johnny’s fingers were still holding the cigarette near his lips. He breathed out and Johnny’s moved the cigarette back to the center of his lips. Josh drew in again. Johnny drew closer, leaned over to murmur into his ear.
“You quit?”
Josh imagined Johnny’s breath was more smoke, but thicker, heavier. The sound of his voice came on so light, it took a moment to reach Josh’s ears, curling along the shell and settling into the canal. He smiled and nodded and exhaled. “Yeah, yeah.”
Johnny remained close. Josh couldn’t focus on his eyes from here. Too close.
“How’s that working out for you?”
Josh laughed raggedly, smoke sputtering out of his mouth and nostrils like he was a house caught fire. From the corner of his eye, he could see Johnny bow his head and smile widely. He felt a hand lay heavily on his upper arm, heat radiating through the layers of Josh’s suit jacket and shirt.
Maybe he was on fire.
Johnny tipped backward to look him directly in the eyes once again. “That’s my last one,” he spoke loudly, voice still muddied by the din of the partygoers.
“Oh, oh,” Josh blurted mid-exhale. He moved to pluck the cigarette from his mouth, brushing against Johnny’s fingers still holding the cigarette before him.
Johnny held up his other hand. “Keep it.” He smiled and placed the cigarette against Josh’s lips again. Eyes hard and fiery, Johnny forced Josh to meet his gaze. The end of the cigarette swept slowly over Josh’s bottom lip, paper dragging over the sticky skin. Josh swallowed. Johnny traced his upper lip with the end of the cigarette. Josh swallowed again, three tiny gulps, and Johnny’s eyes shot down toward Josh’s bobbing Adam’s apple. When he looked up again, Josh could see the light of the cigarette reflected in his eyes like twin beacons on a pair of islands hidden in the dark sea of night. There was pure wilderness in those eyes, and Josh felt a sharp ache for Oahu’s sprawling shores. Johnny blinked and dipped his head just the smallest amount, and the fires went black.
Between his parted lips, Josh stuttered out air. Johnny stopped him up, sliding his middle finger into the wet center. And then it was gone, replaced by the cigarette. A wet finger stroked a slick line down the center of Josh’s chin, following the inward slope of his neck, bristling the short hairs of his stubble, circling around the ball of his Adam’s apple.
Hooking his fingertips into the collar of Josh’s shirt, Johnny leaned in once more, this time face to face. He sucked in the air that Josh breathed out, lips hovering an inch or two from Josh’s. Heat, red heat and vapor.
“Enjoy,” Johnny whispered cooly, and walked a step backward, smirking again. And raising his hat like some fucking gentleman cowboy in an old Hollywood western, he turned and walked away.
Josh watched him, holding his breath, but the crowd swallowed his brown hazy form within seconds. The smoke seemed to cool within Josh’s lungs, spicy and dry. He exhaled smoke one last time.
Yessica was now walking toward him. And he couldn’t hide the fire he held.