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janie_tangerineThe rest is definitely coming tomorrow.
Title: Surprises
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Boone/Jack/Sawyer
Word counting: 1060
Disclaimer: not mine, it'd have happened.
Summary: The first surprise is finding out that the doc and Craphole Island’s prettiest resident are screwing.
A/N: written for the prompt surprises all around, using for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
lostpicksix #8, threesome.
Title: I Give You My All
Rating: hard R
Pairing: Jack/Boone
Word counting: 1221
Disclaimer: not mine, it'd have happened and we would have seen it.
Summary: He had been too worried trying not to say anything stupid when Charlie had started playing somewhere over there and suddenly there was music; he and Jack had shared the last small bottle left and then before he knew it one of them had decided they should go and dance.
A/N: written for the prompt slow dancing on the beach, using forlostpicksix #24, dancing.
Title: The Everlasting Yes And No
Rating: Pg13
Pairing: Jack/Boone
Word counting: 446
Disclaimer: not mine, we all know it.
Summary: It's ironic, how you always answered no when he asked you a question about... well, about whatever it was between the both of you and how he always answered no when you were the one asking.
A/N: written for the prompt no.
Title: What Works Best
Rating: Pg13
Pairing: Jack/Boone
Word counting: 747
Disclaimer: not mine, it'd have happened.
Summary: Any other time he might have burst out laughing because seriously, a pen can't work better than another, especially when you don't need one.
A/N: written for the prompt there's more to life than finding pens.
Title: Someone Wants To See You
Rating: Pg13
Characters: Jack; Ana Lucia, Shannon, Charlie, Christian, Boone (some very faint-platonic Jack/Boone going on)
Word counting: 1301
Disclaimer: if it happens in canon I'll scream. Mostly because we'd probably see only the first part of it.
Summary: When he will open his eyes again, he will be on the island still, but it'll be... different. It'll be the same but the sun will be shining up in the sky, the sound of the waves will be soothing, the jungle won't look much dangerous anymore.
A/N: written for the prompt five people you'll meet in heaven. Warning: character death, but well, it was the prompt.
Title: Surprises
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Boone/Jack/Sawyer
Word counting: 1060
Disclaimer: not mine, it'd have happened.
Summary: The first surprise is finding out that the doc and Craphole Island’s prettiest resident are screwing.
A/N: written for the prompt surprises all around, using for
lostpicksix #8, threesome.The first surprise is finding out that the doc and Craphole Island’s prettiest resident are screwing. Not that Sawyer hadn’t suspected it in Boone’s regards, but Jack had really been a surprise there. Fine, considering that the man was a self-righteous, stubborn and uptight rich son of a bitch that should have also been straight as an arrow, it wasn’t too surprising to find that he swung the way he shouldn’t have been swinging. But Sawyer wouldn’t have really pictured Boone for his type; too young, pretty face maybe but not that interesting, not too bright from what he had seen, no personality whatsoever and also annoying, since he wouldn’t have wanted around someone who wants to help at all costs and ends up screwing things. But one day he catches them screwing in the jungle and well, fine. He was surprised.
The second surprise is finding that he was completely wrong about the metro. Because someone who wasn’t bright and who didn’t have a spine wouldn’t have come to his tent asking if he had enjoyed the sight that afternoon; and second-and-a-half surprise, Sawyer lets him get away from his tent without reacting.
The third surprise is seeing that Jack suddenly chuckles any time that he’s near Sawyer. Sawyer doesn’t push it.
The fourth surprise is that Sawyer suddenly finds himself casting glances from behind his book at the both of them instead of glancing in Kate’s or Shannon’s direction.
The fifth surprise is when one night he finds Boone outside his tent telling him that if he’s so desperate for a fuck he could always ask nicely. Sawyer asks him what the hell he’s thinking about and Boone answers that considering the way he’s looking at both him and Jack one would have to be Arzt not to notice that he is desperate for one.
Sixth and a half surprise, five minutes later Boone is beneath him in his tent, his hips thrusting up and grinding against his and his lips nibble over Sawyer’s neck and that tongue doesn’t show any mercy when Boone kisses him as they’re coming, hard and fast and just so good, and Boone had known that he was really desperate for it while he couldn’t admit it himself.
Note to sixth and a half surprise, Boone does have personality indeed, at least in bed.
The seventh surprise is when Jack doesn’t only chuckle anymore when he’s around Sawyer; he looks pretty much like he’s having fun and the uptight stubborn bastard never looks like he has fun. So Sawyer asks him what’s so strange and Jack winks and tells him that after all it looks like he really isn’t after Kate. Sawyer doesn’t know if he has to be more surprised because Jack knew he screwed the same guy Jack screwed or because Jack winked.
The eight is when he finds them both outside his tent and Boone says well, as long as you admit it, I think that we could do it. Could we, Jack?, and Jack nods and licks his lips and says I definitely think we do.
The ninth is that they weren’t joking at all; and thankfully his tent is big enough for three.
The tenth surprise is that Jack and Boone are not fucking. Not really.
Jack all is strong arms and slender fingers; his hands are careful and skilled as they roam over Sawyer’s skin, his mouth insistent over his own as they kiss and Boone silently watches while he strips down.
Sawyer realizes soon enough that it’s no match; the doc isn’t one who doesn’t want to be on top (what a surprise) and alright, fine, he doesn’t care because those hands are touching him just in the right way and as soon as one of them wraps around his cock Sawyer gasps and can’t believe that Jack is just that good at giving handjobs but he is and then as he opens his eyes he sees Jack kissing Boone slowly, tenderly even. His hand is moving in fast and strong jerks though, enough to make Sawyer writhe and swear and moan and then Boone is kissing him as he comes against Jack’s hand just like that (he can’t seriously believe it was enough to make him so fucking undone) and it’s just like fucking Boone some days before was; Sawyer doesn’t have much of a choice here. He doesn’t know if he should be worried that he had obviously wanted Jack’s hands on him like this, or if he should be because then Jack’s lips are over his, drawing them in a lazy, satisfied kiss; Sawyer doesn’t know what to make of it.
He lays spent on a blanket as Jack moves over Boone and they, they, shit, he can’t bring himself to say it, but it’s all in the gestures; their hands are slow as they touch each other, Boone’s fingers in Jack’s hair trace random patterns for some time as Jack slowly stretches him open and meanwhile they kiss, small, greedy kisses, like they just can’t not do it. Jack takes his time and Boone doesn’t have any of the snark and initiative that he had with Sawyer; he lets Jack decide, he doesn’t rush anything, like he can’t get enough of this either. No, Sawyer thinks as Jack slowly gives the first thrust and Boone meets him eagerly, this ain’t fucking. Not at all. Still, he won’t say it. He just can’t. They are just two words, but Sawyer can’t or won’t pull them together next to each other and let himself think it. He lays there, spent and breathing heavily as he watches them come maybe seconds apart and kiss after, a slow, sensual kiss and suddenly his lips are dry.
Eleventh surprise: they don’t leave. It’s a minute before he feels Jack’s lips brushing over his and Boone’s soon after and he’s too dizzy and dazed not to go along with anything they might have in mind. He doesn’t tell them to go and they don’t ask to stay, but he has two spare blankets and it ends with Jack between them, Sawyer’s hand on his stomach and Boone’s draped over his chest and the blankets covering them all.
Well, Sawyer thinks before he just can’t keep his eyes open anymore, it surely was a week full of surprises. Indeed.
End.
The second surprise is finding that he was completely wrong about the metro. Because someone who wasn’t bright and who didn’t have a spine wouldn’t have come to his tent asking if he had enjoyed the sight that afternoon; and second-and-a-half surprise, Sawyer lets him get away from his tent without reacting.
The third surprise is seeing that Jack suddenly chuckles any time that he’s near Sawyer. Sawyer doesn’t push it.
The fourth surprise is that Sawyer suddenly finds himself casting glances from behind his book at the both of them instead of glancing in Kate’s or Shannon’s direction.
The fifth surprise is when one night he finds Boone outside his tent telling him that if he’s so desperate for a fuck he could always ask nicely. Sawyer asks him what the hell he’s thinking about and Boone answers that considering the way he’s looking at both him and Jack one would have to be Arzt not to notice that he is desperate for one.
Sixth and a half surprise, five minutes later Boone is beneath him in his tent, his hips thrusting up and grinding against his and his lips nibble over Sawyer’s neck and that tongue doesn’t show any mercy when Boone kisses him as they’re coming, hard and fast and just so good, and Boone had known that he was really desperate for it while he couldn’t admit it himself.
Note to sixth and a half surprise, Boone does have personality indeed, at least in bed.
The seventh surprise is when Jack doesn’t only chuckle anymore when he’s around Sawyer; he looks pretty much like he’s having fun and the uptight stubborn bastard never looks like he has fun. So Sawyer asks him what’s so strange and Jack winks and tells him that after all it looks like he really isn’t after Kate. Sawyer doesn’t know if he has to be more surprised because Jack knew he screwed the same guy Jack screwed or because Jack winked.
The eight is when he finds them both outside his tent and Boone says well, as long as you admit it, I think that we could do it. Could we, Jack?, and Jack nods and licks his lips and says I definitely think we do.
The ninth is that they weren’t joking at all; and thankfully his tent is big enough for three.
The tenth surprise is that Jack and Boone are not fucking. Not really.
Jack all is strong arms and slender fingers; his hands are careful and skilled as they roam over Sawyer’s skin, his mouth insistent over his own as they kiss and Boone silently watches while he strips down.
Sawyer realizes soon enough that it’s no match; the doc isn’t one who doesn’t want to be on top (what a surprise) and alright, fine, he doesn’t care because those hands are touching him just in the right way and as soon as one of them wraps around his cock Sawyer gasps and can’t believe that Jack is just that good at giving handjobs but he is and then as he opens his eyes he sees Jack kissing Boone slowly, tenderly even. His hand is moving in fast and strong jerks though, enough to make Sawyer writhe and swear and moan and then Boone is kissing him as he comes against Jack’s hand just like that (he can’t seriously believe it was enough to make him so fucking undone) and it’s just like fucking Boone some days before was; Sawyer doesn’t have much of a choice here. He doesn’t know if he should be worried that he had obviously wanted Jack’s hands on him like this, or if he should be because then Jack’s lips are over his, drawing them in a lazy, satisfied kiss; Sawyer doesn’t know what to make of it.
He lays spent on a blanket as Jack moves over Boone and they, they, shit, he can’t bring himself to say it, but it’s all in the gestures; their hands are slow as they touch each other, Boone’s fingers in Jack’s hair trace random patterns for some time as Jack slowly stretches him open and meanwhile they kiss, small, greedy kisses, like they just can’t not do it. Jack takes his time and Boone doesn’t have any of the snark and initiative that he had with Sawyer; he lets Jack decide, he doesn’t rush anything, like he can’t get enough of this either. No, Sawyer thinks as Jack slowly gives the first thrust and Boone meets him eagerly, this ain’t fucking. Not at all. Still, he won’t say it. He just can’t. They are just two words, but Sawyer can’t or won’t pull them together next to each other and let himself think it. He lays there, spent and breathing heavily as he watches them come maybe seconds apart and kiss after, a slow, sensual kiss and suddenly his lips are dry.
Eleventh surprise: they don’t leave. It’s a minute before he feels Jack’s lips brushing over his and Boone’s soon after and he’s too dizzy and dazed not to go along with anything they might have in mind. He doesn’t tell them to go and they don’t ask to stay, but he has two spare blankets and it ends with Jack between them, Sawyer’s hand on his stomach and Boone’s draped over his chest and the blankets covering them all.
Well, Sawyer thinks before he just can’t keep his eyes open anymore, it surely was a week full of surprises. Indeed.
End.
Title: I Give You My All
Rating: hard R
Pairing: Jack/Boone
Word counting: 1221
Disclaimer: not mine, it'd have happened and we would have seen it.
Summary: He had been too worried trying not to say anything stupid when Charlie had started playing somewhere over there and suddenly there was music; he and Jack had shared the last small bottle left and then before he knew it one of them had decided they should go and dance.
A/N: written for the prompt slow dancing on the beach, using for
lostpicksix #24, dancing.Boone can barely hear Charlie playing; he has to be further on up the beach, far, but not enough not to be heard. It’s Led Zeppelin, Thank You; he can hardly distinguish the words, after all he is far; but it’s fine like this because if he wasn’t he’d see them and maybe it isn’t such a good idea.
He had gone searching for Jack that evening since he wanted to apologize for the morning before (you don’t lash at someone because he saves your life) and also kind of thank him for the evening before. The water, you see. He had found Jack on the beach with a number of small bottles of vodka with Oceanic written on the label, the ones that they shouldn’t give you on the plane; he hadn’t asked where Jack had found them. He had said what he needed to say and then Jack had brought out another bottle from his pocket and asked him if he felt like sharing. He didn’t sound drunk but surely not totally sober either; he also looked dead tired and Boone could understand it, indeed.
He had accepted and it had kind of felt strange; thinking about it, he hadn’t drunk anything stronger than a beer for a while. It went to his head; maybe he shouldn’t have drunk it in one shot, but by that point he felt positively dizzy and maybe warm and kind of giddy, too. He had been too worried trying not to say anything stupid when Charlie had started playing somewhere over there and suddenly there was music; he and Jack had shared the last small bottle left and then before he knew it one of them had decided they should go and dance.
It’s bad enough that he can’t even remember if it was him suggesting it or if it was Jack; but considering that Jack had had considerably more to drink than Boone and he was trying not to do anything too stupid himself, he figures it probably had been Jack. Small consolation. At least he’s good at it, he was always good at dancing even if right now he isn’t in his best shape. For that matter neither is Jack, who is doing surprisingly well on his part, considering that Boone is kind of leading even if he’s the shorter one and they aren’t in any real position.
His arms are one around Jack’s waist and one draped over his shoulder instead of just his hand touching it while Jack is pretty much mirroring it. And so Boone’s lips are right there over Jack’s neck; soft skin, not pale but not exactly dark either. He wonders what would have happened if he just licked it, but he doesn’t, not until they’re still dancing at least. The kind of miracle here is that while they’re both half drunk they still haven’t treaded on each other’s feet. The other thing is that they haven’t really said anything up to now. It’s fine, though. He doesn’t feel any need to speak right now. He isn’t even as freaked out as he should be.
Suddenly Charlie’s voice is louder, maybe he decided to use it after all; he distinguishes you to me are the only one and he knows that happiness, I’m glad or something similar is supposed to be after but then Jack suddenly changes opinion about the pace they’re going at and when the arm is tighter around his waist and Jack suddenly moves harshly Boone guesses he was attempting to swirl him around. The attempt doesn’t work though; their feet collide and tread on each other and suddenly Boone finds himself lying on the damp sand, a cool, lazy wave touching his feet, and Jack falls on top of him quite unceremoniously, but he realizes he doesn’t mind and he doesn’t protest.
The music is gone and Boone kind of misses it actually.
“Oh God. I… sorry. I got… got carried away.”
“Guess you did,” Boone answers, but the problem here is that Jack sounds half drunk and he sounds like his first girlfriend sounded when he asked her out the first time.
“Was good. Before. I mean.”
“Mm, yeah. Guess it was.”
“Y’know, this isn’t… convenient,” Jack suddenly says after a minute during which neither of them moved. “And… uhm, sorry. I just… maybe you didn’t want… I just… y’know, hard day. Needed it.”
“Don’t care. And if I hadn’t wanted I wouldn’t have. I guess. And I know you had one. You always have.”
“Y’know, you really should push me away now.”
“I really don’t think I want to.”
And he doesn’t. It feels good. It feels fine. And fuck, let’s admit it, he had been thinking about how just perfectly Jack’s arm had felt around his waist since last morning and fuck, yes, he’ll admit it too, he kind of likes the guy. He really kind of does.
“We’re drunk.”
“Yeah. I know. Guess not too much if… mm, if you acknowledge… it.”
“I should go.”
“If you wanted you would already have done it.”
“And you aren’t moving.”
“Am not. And just… do whatever the fuck you want. It’s fine.”
“Oh, no. Just, I can’t, not… you’re… I’m…”
Jack tries to stand up but Boone catches his wrist and Jack falls down next to him in the sand; the sea is still touching his feet as he brings a hand behind Jack’s neck and kisses him firmly; he doesn’t meet much resistance and then his tongue meets Jack’s and oh, he just tastes so good, that vodka and one of the last portions of chocolate cake salvaged from what remains of their plane and its food trails, and then Jack’s hand is on the small of his back bringing him forward and the next minute they are still kissing but Boone’s knees are around Jack’s tights, sand under his feet and on Jack’s skin, while his jeans are half wet because of the hot water and he just can’t get enough. He’s breathless when they part and Jack’s half smiling beneath him and Boone is really glad that he came to search for Jack this evening and that he isn’t drunk enough to mess this up. Indeed.
“Now you’re… mm, not playing fairly here.” Jack’s voice is low and almost flirty and Boone startles for a second. He always sounds so serious, but this is definitely a change. Well, he can get used to it.
“Well, you wouldn’t…” - he says as he presses his lips along Jack’s neck, - “… do the same…” – he bites the skin he just kissed lightly and a blissful moan fills his ears – “… with me before. You could have played as unfairly... as you wished.”
“And so what, you want to take advantage of me now?”
“Looks like you want it.”
And then he drops his head down and kisses Jack again as his hand works on opening Jack’s trousers, feeling his cock hard against his thigh, Jack’s hips grinding against his. Oh, yes, he thinks as Jack’s small moans of pleasure reach his ear as soon as he takes him in hand and starts stroking slowly, before his head drops down again to drink that blissful sound from Jack’s lips.
He needs to find a way to thank Charlie tomorrow.
End.
He had gone searching for Jack that evening since he wanted to apologize for the morning before (you don’t lash at someone because he saves your life) and also kind of thank him for the evening before. The water, you see. He had found Jack on the beach with a number of small bottles of vodka with Oceanic written on the label, the ones that they shouldn’t give you on the plane; he hadn’t asked where Jack had found them. He had said what he needed to say and then Jack had brought out another bottle from his pocket and asked him if he felt like sharing. He didn’t sound drunk but surely not totally sober either; he also looked dead tired and Boone could understand it, indeed.
He had accepted and it had kind of felt strange; thinking about it, he hadn’t drunk anything stronger than a beer for a while. It went to his head; maybe he shouldn’t have drunk it in one shot, but by that point he felt positively dizzy and maybe warm and kind of giddy, too. He had been too worried trying not to say anything stupid when Charlie had started playing somewhere over there and suddenly there was music; he and Jack had shared the last small bottle left and then before he knew it one of them had decided they should go and dance.
It’s bad enough that he can’t even remember if it was him suggesting it or if it was Jack; but considering that Jack had had considerably more to drink than Boone and he was trying not to do anything too stupid himself, he figures it probably had been Jack. Small consolation. At least he’s good at it, he was always good at dancing even if right now he isn’t in his best shape. For that matter neither is Jack, who is doing surprisingly well on his part, considering that Boone is kind of leading even if he’s the shorter one and they aren’t in any real position.
His arms are one around Jack’s waist and one draped over his shoulder instead of just his hand touching it while Jack is pretty much mirroring it. And so Boone’s lips are right there over Jack’s neck; soft skin, not pale but not exactly dark either. He wonders what would have happened if he just licked it, but he doesn’t, not until they’re still dancing at least. The kind of miracle here is that while they’re both half drunk they still haven’t treaded on each other’s feet. The other thing is that they haven’t really said anything up to now. It’s fine, though. He doesn’t feel any need to speak right now. He isn’t even as freaked out as he should be.
Suddenly Charlie’s voice is louder, maybe he decided to use it after all; he distinguishes you to me are the only one and he knows that happiness, I’m glad or something similar is supposed to be after but then Jack suddenly changes opinion about the pace they’re going at and when the arm is tighter around his waist and Jack suddenly moves harshly Boone guesses he was attempting to swirl him around. The attempt doesn’t work though; their feet collide and tread on each other and suddenly Boone finds himself lying on the damp sand, a cool, lazy wave touching his feet, and Jack falls on top of him quite unceremoniously, but he realizes he doesn’t mind and he doesn’t protest.
The music is gone and Boone kind of misses it actually.
“Oh God. I… sorry. I got… got carried away.”
“Guess you did,” Boone answers, but the problem here is that Jack sounds half drunk and he sounds like his first girlfriend sounded when he asked her out the first time.
“Was good. Before. I mean.”
“Mm, yeah. Guess it was.”
“Y’know, this isn’t… convenient,” Jack suddenly says after a minute during which neither of them moved. “And… uhm, sorry. I just… maybe you didn’t want… I just… y’know, hard day. Needed it.”
“Don’t care. And if I hadn’t wanted I wouldn’t have. I guess. And I know you had one. You always have.”
“Y’know, you really should push me away now.”
“I really don’t think I want to.”
And he doesn’t. It feels good. It feels fine. And fuck, let’s admit it, he had been thinking about how just perfectly Jack’s arm had felt around his waist since last morning and fuck, yes, he’ll admit it too, he kind of likes the guy. He really kind of does.
“We’re drunk.”
“Yeah. I know. Guess not too much if… mm, if you acknowledge… it.”
“I should go.”
“If you wanted you would already have done it.”
“And you aren’t moving.”
“Am not. And just… do whatever the fuck you want. It’s fine.”
“Oh, no. Just, I can’t, not… you’re… I’m…”
Jack tries to stand up but Boone catches his wrist and Jack falls down next to him in the sand; the sea is still touching his feet as he brings a hand behind Jack’s neck and kisses him firmly; he doesn’t meet much resistance and then his tongue meets Jack’s and oh, he just tastes so good, that vodka and one of the last portions of chocolate cake salvaged from what remains of their plane and its food trails, and then Jack’s hand is on the small of his back bringing him forward and the next minute they are still kissing but Boone’s knees are around Jack’s tights, sand under his feet and on Jack’s skin, while his jeans are half wet because of the hot water and he just can’t get enough. He’s breathless when they part and Jack’s half smiling beneath him and Boone is really glad that he came to search for Jack this evening and that he isn’t drunk enough to mess this up. Indeed.
“Now you’re… mm, not playing fairly here.” Jack’s voice is low and almost flirty and Boone startles for a second. He always sounds so serious, but this is definitely a change. Well, he can get used to it.
“Well, you wouldn’t…” - he says as he presses his lips along Jack’s neck, - “… do the same…” – he bites the skin he just kissed lightly and a blissful moan fills his ears – “… with me before. You could have played as unfairly... as you wished.”
“And so what, you want to take advantage of me now?”
“Looks like you want it.”
And then he drops his head down and kisses Jack again as his hand works on opening Jack’s trousers, feeling his cock hard against his thigh, Jack’s hips grinding against his. Oh, yes, he thinks as Jack’s small moans of pleasure reach his ear as soon as he takes him in hand and starts stroking slowly, before his head drops down again to drink that blissful sound from Jack’s lips.
He needs to find a way to thank Charlie tomorrow.
End.
Title: The Everlasting Yes And No
Rating: Pg13
Pairing: Jack/Boone
Word counting: 446
Disclaimer: not mine, we all know it.
Summary: It's ironic, how you always answered no when he asked you a question about... well, about whatever it was between the both of you and how he always answered no when you were the one asking.
A/N: written for the prompt no.
It's ironic, how you always answered no when he asked you a question about... well, about whatever it was between the both of you and how he always answered no when you were the one asking. One figures a relationship is made of affirmative answers. This time, not exactly.
He would ask, You sure? You want to call everything off? I'd understand it if... and you'd answer no. You would ask him Do you realize how crazy is this?, and he'd answer no, he didn't. Then he'd say it wasn't crazy; he'd say it was good and you really wouldn't mind staying a while this time?, you'd answer no, I don't mind, and you would stay the night.
You would ask him, are you sure you aren’t making a mistake?; after all, there were people on the island which you thought were more suited. Who weren't absent most of the day, who didn't have fifteen years on him and who could give him the attention you couldn't, even if you wanted; the answer was always no, I know I'm not, and you could never guess why, you never asked him what he saw in you that was so charming, but you never questioned if. He would ask you whether you felt uncomfortable with the arrangements, and you'd answer no, you were fine with any arrangement.
You never had much experience with men. Fooling around in med school and that was it. He might have been younger than you but surely he was far more skilled in the department. He'd ask you, am I going too far?, and you'd answer no. He couldn't even if he wanted, maybe because you kind of couldn't get enough of him.
Sometimes he'd look pensive, sometimes he wouldn't come to the caves because he was out all day with Locke and he said he was dead tired; you never asked what they were doing out there. Your mistake.
Sometimes you would ask him whether something was wrong; because sometimes he just looked so incredibly sad that something had to be wrong. He'd always answer maybe, but it wasn't related to... you and you both. In that case, when you were specific, he always said no and kissed you senseless after. You surely never minded that turn of events.
The irony is in the fact that you said yes just once. Or better, you never said it but behaved as you had. It was when he told you to let him go and you did, figuring that in the end he was right and you were just denying the inevitable.
More than once, after, you thought you should have just said no.
End.
He would ask, You sure? You want to call everything off? I'd understand it if... and you'd answer no. You would ask him Do you realize how crazy is this?, and he'd answer no, he didn't. Then he'd say it wasn't crazy; he'd say it was good and you really wouldn't mind staying a while this time?, you'd answer no, I don't mind, and you would stay the night.
You would ask him, are you sure you aren’t making a mistake?; after all, there were people on the island which you thought were more suited. Who weren't absent most of the day, who didn't have fifteen years on him and who could give him the attention you couldn't, even if you wanted; the answer was always no, I know I'm not, and you could never guess why, you never asked him what he saw in you that was so charming, but you never questioned if. He would ask you whether you felt uncomfortable with the arrangements, and you'd answer no, you were fine with any arrangement.
You never had much experience with men. Fooling around in med school and that was it. He might have been younger than you but surely he was far more skilled in the department. He'd ask you, am I going too far?, and you'd answer no. He couldn't even if he wanted, maybe because you kind of couldn't get enough of him.
Sometimes he'd look pensive, sometimes he wouldn't come to the caves because he was out all day with Locke and he said he was dead tired; you never asked what they were doing out there. Your mistake.
Sometimes you would ask him whether something was wrong; because sometimes he just looked so incredibly sad that something had to be wrong. He'd always answer maybe, but it wasn't related to... you and you both. In that case, when you were specific, he always said no and kissed you senseless after. You surely never minded that turn of events.
The irony is in the fact that you said yes just once. Or better, you never said it but behaved as you had. It was when he told you to let him go and you did, figuring that in the end he was right and you were just denying the inevitable.
More than once, after, you thought you should have just said no.
End.
Title: What Works Best
Rating: Pg13
Pairing: Jack/Boone
Word counting: 747
Disclaimer: not mine, it'd have happened.
Summary: Any other time he might have burst out laughing because seriously, a pen can't work better than another, especially when you don't need one.
A/N: written for the prompt there's more to life than finding pens.
Jack feels bad. Really, he feels bad. Fine, he has his reasons. Boone was doing everything wrong and he didn't need anyone in the way; when he had told him to go get the pens, it was just because then he'd have been alone and also because he hadn't really thought that he would actually do it.
Wrong. Because then Boone had found him with the goddamn pens. They were all carefully held in his hand; Jack had distinguished two fountain pens, three sharpies, six ballpoint ones and then he had realized, looking better at it, that Boone had actually divided them; all the fountain ones were near each other as the sharpies and the ballpoint ones. And then...
"I didn't know which one would work best."
Any other time he might have burst out laughing because seriously, a pen can't work better than another, especially when you don't need one. But he hadn't and not only because he was too tired and suddenly his wound hurt all over, but also because the tone was so earnest and Boone was so serious about it that he couldn't find it in himself to laugh. Not really. He had muttered something like they're all good, had taken a couple because he felt like he had to and then had left.
Now he realizes that he had been quite a jerk; he hadn't then but still, better than laughing out loud, right?
He should have forgotten about it. But then it comes back and as soon as he doesn't have life-threatening situations on his hands he can only think about the pens. Those damned pens and how wide and blue and hopeful Boone's eyes were as he handed them over. And he feels guilty because maybe he could have been nicer. Right, bedside manners never were his strong point, but still, it wouldn't have taken much to... well, it had shown that he had never really needed any. He could have put a bit of an effort pretending he could have used them.
Then the mess with the water happens and he waits for Sawyer to leave Boone alone. Then he waits another five minutes or so to make sure no one is around.
Then he comes closer. Boone is still sitting on the beach, looking at the dark sea in front of him. He probably isn't seeing much.
"Hi."
Not exactly the most brilliant start, but still.
"Sorry for today. I was a jerk."
Jack sits down, too, not too close and not too far.
"Well, I was too. With the pens, I mean. I guess we're even."
"Even? Man, you saved my life and I brought you a bunch of useless things. Doesn't really make it even."
"Why not? Actually, I lost those two. The ones I took, I mean. I think I might need another."
Boone turns in his direction and blinks a couple of times.
"You can't be serious."
Well, fine, maybe he isn't because he doesn't really need a pen right now and he hasn't even lost those other two, but this isn't the point of this conversation.
"I am."
Jack suddenly wonders if Boone is blushing, it's too dark to notice, as he searches for something into his pocket and tosses it in his direction. Jack catches a black ballpoint pen.
"There you go. Last one I had, though."
"Well, I guess you can't spend your life searching for pens."
"If there wasn't more to life than that, it'd be a problem."
Jack nods, suddenly shifting closer; he doesn't even know why. Boone doesn't move. He raises his head in Jack's direction and Jack realizes he had been holding his breath. Having eyes like those staring at you will make it happen.
"So, we're... well, no hard feelings?"
"There... there never were any," Boone barely whispers and Jack doesn't know how his lips end up covering Boone's or how the kiss actually deepened or how from tentative it became almost frantic. He doesn't try to stop a thing, maybe because he's just too tired or maybe because it feels too good to stop thinking about all the reasons for which it shouldn't happen (the place they are in not least). Not even when things end up with him laying on top of Boone in the sand, hands pulling his shirt open and his own fumbling with Boone's jeans in order to get rid of them.
There's definitely more to life than finding pens indeed.
End.
Wrong. Because then Boone had found him with the goddamn pens. They were all carefully held in his hand; Jack had distinguished two fountain pens, three sharpies, six ballpoint ones and then he had realized, looking better at it, that Boone had actually divided them; all the fountain ones were near each other as the sharpies and the ballpoint ones. And then...
"I didn't know which one would work best."
Any other time he might have burst out laughing because seriously, a pen can't work better than another, especially when you don't need one. But he hadn't and not only because he was too tired and suddenly his wound hurt all over, but also because the tone was so earnest and Boone was so serious about it that he couldn't find it in himself to laugh. Not really. He had muttered something like they're all good, had taken a couple because he felt like he had to and then had left.
Now he realizes that he had been quite a jerk; he hadn't then but still, better than laughing out loud, right?
He should have forgotten about it. But then it comes back and as soon as he doesn't have life-threatening situations on his hands he can only think about the pens. Those damned pens and how wide and blue and hopeful Boone's eyes were as he handed them over. And he feels guilty because maybe he could have been nicer. Right, bedside manners never were his strong point, but still, it wouldn't have taken much to... well, it had shown that he had never really needed any. He could have put a bit of an effort pretending he could have used them.
Then the mess with the water happens and he waits for Sawyer to leave Boone alone. Then he waits another five minutes or so to make sure no one is around.
Then he comes closer. Boone is still sitting on the beach, looking at the dark sea in front of him. He probably isn't seeing much.
"Hi."
Not exactly the most brilliant start, but still.
"Sorry for today. I was a jerk."
Jack sits down, too, not too close and not too far.
"Well, I was too. With the pens, I mean. I guess we're even."
"Even? Man, you saved my life and I brought you a bunch of useless things. Doesn't really make it even."
"Why not? Actually, I lost those two. The ones I took, I mean. I think I might need another."
Boone turns in his direction and blinks a couple of times.
"You can't be serious."
Well, fine, maybe he isn't because he doesn't really need a pen right now and he hasn't even lost those other two, but this isn't the point of this conversation.
"I am."
Jack suddenly wonders if Boone is blushing, it's too dark to notice, as he searches for something into his pocket and tosses it in his direction. Jack catches a black ballpoint pen.
"There you go. Last one I had, though."
"Well, I guess you can't spend your life searching for pens."
"If there wasn't more to life than that, it'd be a problem."
Jack nods, suddenly shifting closer; he doesn't even know why. Boone doesn't move. He raises his head in Jack's direction and Jack realizes he had been holding his breath. Having eyes like those staring at you will make it happen.
"So, we're... well, no hard feelings?"
"There... there never were any," Boone barely whispers and Jack doesn't know how his lips end up covering Boone's or how the kiss actually deepened or how from tentative it became almost frantic. He doesn't try to stop a thing, maybe because he's just too tired or maybe because it feels too good to stop thinking about all the reasons for which it shouldn't happen (the place they are in not least). Not even when things end up with him laying on top of Boone in the sand, hands pulling his shirt open and his own fumbling with Boone's jeans in order to get rid of them.
There's definitely more to life than finding pens indeed.
End.
Title: Someone Wants To See You
Rating: Pg13
Characters: Jack; Ana Lucia, Shannon, Charlie, Christian, Boone (some very faint-platonic Jack/Boone going on)
Word counting: 1301
Disclaimer: if it happens in canon I'll scream. Mostly because we'd probably see only the first part of it.
Summary: When he will open his eyes again, he will be on the island still, but it'll be... different. It'll be the same but the sun will be shining up in the sky, the sound of the waves will be soothing, the jungle won't look much dangerous anymore.
A/N: written for the prompt five people you'll meet in heaven. Warning: character death, but well, it was the prompt.
Jack doesn't know anything yet, as his shoes sink into the white sand covering the beach. Well, wait, he knows something. He knows he's going to die here and there's no question about it; after all, Ben said it. They won't be going back now. There's no going back at all. He might die tomorrow or fifty years from now. He doesn't know.
He won't die tomorrow, but he doesn't have much time in front of him, either. He will die exactly two weeks from now, because there will be some shootout and Ben will have a gun and it will be aimed at Sawyer; he won't even think about it. He will just run forward and take the bullet instead. And it will be quick and painless.
But even now, Jack doesn't think there will be an heaven for him. In truth, he believes there will be just... nothing. And that's fine with him. That's just what he wishes for.
He's wrong.
--
When he will open his eyes again, he will be on the island still, but it'll be... different. It'll be the same but the sun will be shining up in the sky, the sound of the waves will be soothing, the jungle won't look much dangerous anymore. He will stand up and he will see Sawyer shouting over his dead body, cursing and telling him he had no right to be the hero of the situation even if he could barely walk straight. Kate will be standing there next to him, her face pale as a sheet. Sayid will have knocked Ben out someway (too late, but still).
He will wonder for one second if this is heaven.
"Well, it is. If you don't have high expectations, that is."
Jack turns and Ana Lucìa is standing behind him, jeans and tank top and bare feet, black raven hair shining in the sunlight and not tied up, dark eyes looking up at him. Her skin almost glows.
"Ana...? What..."
"I meant... heaven. This isn't... well, what you'd call heaven exactly, but it can work."
"Oh. So I'm really..."
"Yeah. Sorry. You'll get adjusted."
"I guess I will," he will mutter for an answer, realizing that he's wearing clean clothes. Or at least they will feel clean.
"Come on. Someone wants to see you," she will say, extending her hand, and Jack will take it. No reason to stay behind.
--
Ana will disappear when they made their way into the jungle; she'll leave him near a sort of cabin which will look old and about to fall on itself.
"Out with a bang, I see."
Shannon will appear next to him and Jack won't feel surprised; he will kind of expect to see everyone, eventually.
"You could say that."
"Well, not that different from me. Except that you went out as a hero and I went out as the damsel in distress."
"Does it make a difference?"
"Whatever. I guess it doesn't."
She will look straight at him, her expression suddenly softer, her eyes suddenly warm, as a light breeze messes her hair up. It's longer, Jack will think, longer than he remembered.
"It sucked," she will say after a while, as her bare feet shift in the dirt of the jungle floor while not getting dirty at all. "Dying, I mean. It wasn't even dignified."
"No one thought it wasn't."
"Doesn't mean a thing. Well, someone wants to see you. Catch you later."
Her fingers will slightly caress his cheek, not more than a feather touch. She will be gone, too, just after.
--
"Bollocks, I had bet on you."
"What?"
Charlie will be sitting on a rock nearby, guitar hanging at his side, shorter hair, leather jacket, looking at him with half disappointment and half resignation.
"We bet on who's going to stay alive for longer. And mate, I thought you would have been the one left. What a bummer, now I owe Shannon."
"You really did?"
"Sure. Hey, you always were reliable, right?"
Suddenly Charlie will laugh and at least it'll be genuine. For a second, Jack will think he had missed that sound. "Sorry. Well, I did lose the bet, but I can't exactly blame you. Staying alive here? Mate, that's quite the catch."
Jack will smile in return, not much of a smile to be honest, but still. Better than nothing.
"Well, figures I should say glad to have you here. Since, you know, it's done."
"Yeah. And I don't regret it."
"That's better. Regretting it makes things harder. Well, I gotta go. Someone wants to see you."
And he will be gone, too.
--
Jack won't say anything when his father will show up in front of him, dressed with some old, worn out clothes and half a smile on his face. If this is heaven... well, Jack wouldn't have expected to find him here. His dad never was the person who ends up in heaven. But after all, he was told not to keep his expectations high.
"You finally came back."
Not a question and Jack would rather not answer, but it wouldn't do. "Yeah, I did." And what good was it, he will think but won't say.
Christian will nod and place a hand on his shoulder for a fleeting second, then remove it. Jack won't move.
"What I told your friend... the one you saved just now... well, it was true."
He’s proud of him. And he loves him., Jack will remember, and it’ll hurt.
"Why would you tell me now?" he will ask, trying not to scream.
"I owe you. And I think I should go. Someone wants to see you."
He will disappear soon after and Jack will wonder what's going on. He had thought they meant him, his father. That he was the one wanting to see him. Who else could it be?
--
"Hi, Jack."
Jack will gasp and turn on his side; Boone will be standing there, looking at the ground, slightly longer hair, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He will raise his head and look straight at Jack next, blue eyes wide and strangely watery. He will blink a couple of times and when he will say that he's sorry Jack won't doubt it for a second.
"Well, can't say I'm thrilled. I guess it had..."
"Don't say it had to happen. I know, but... just don't say it."
Jack will nod and Boone will come closer, standing in front of him.
"I guess I can at least thank you in person."
"Thank me...?"
"Jack, you know."
And Jack will suddenly know and will barely nod; Boone will bite his lip and shrug just after, suddenly uncomfortable.
"It's just... I didn't want you to. You shouldn't be here."
"You shouldn't either," Jack will answer, his voice low, and he will mean it. He will really mean it. Boone shouldn't have been there. He also could not have been, if Locke just hadn't...
"Don't think about it. It's done, right?"
"Right. So... you wanted to see me just to say thanks?"
"Not really. I just... wanted to see you."
Boone's arms will be around his shoulders then, the touch tentative, and Jack will just lose it and practically crush him to his chest. His heart doesn't beat and Jack's doesn't either, but for the rest Boone just feels as a living person would, his skin warm, his body real and there and mostly important, whole. He won't care about much else. And then Boone will whisper against his neck, "You still haven't seen much. Of... well, this," and Jack will answer "Fine, then just show me," and Boone will nod and take his wrist and lead him further into the jungle. Jack won't know what awaits him, but it won't really matter.
End.
He won't die tomorrow, but he doesn't have much time in front of him, either. He will die exactly two weeks from now, because there will be some shootout and Ben will have a gun and it will be aimed at Sawyer; he won't even think about it. He will just run forward and take the bullet instead. And it will be quick and painless.
But even now, Jack doesn't think there will be an heaven for him. In truth, he believes there will be just... nothing. And that's fine with him. That's just what he wishes for.
He's wrong.
--
When he will open his eyes again, he will be on the island still, but it'll be... different. It'll be the same but the sun will be shining up in the sky, the sound of the waves will be soothing, the jungle won't look much dangerous anymore. He will stand up and he will see Sawyer shouting over his dead body, cursing and telling him he had no right to be the hero of the situation even if he could barely walk straight. Kate will be standing there next to him, her face pale as a sheet. Sayid will have knocked Ben out someway (too late, but still).
He will wonder for one second if this is heaven.
"Well, it is. If you don't have high expectations, that is."
Jack turns and Ana Lucìa is standing behind him, jeans and tank top and bare feet, black raven hair shining in the sunlight and not tied up, dark eyes looking up at him. Her skin almost glows.
"Ana...? What..."
"I meant... heaven. This isn't... well, what you'd call heaven exactly, but it can work."
"Oh. So I'm really..."
"Yeah. Sorry. You'll get adjusted."
"I guess I will," he will mutter for an answer, realizing that he's wearing clean clothes. Or at least they will feel clean.
"Come on. Someone wants to see you," she will say, extending her hand, and Jack will take it. No reason to stay behind.
--
Ana will disappear when they made their way into the jungle; she'll leave him near a sort of cabin which will look old and about to fall on itself.
"Out with a bang, I see."
Shannon will appear next to him and Jack won't feel surprised; he will kind of expect to see everyone, eventually.
"You could say that."
"Well, not that different from me. Except that you went out as a hero and I went out as the damsel in distress."
"Does it make a difference?"
"Whatever. I guess it doesn't."
She will look straight at him, her expression suddenly softer, her eyes suddenly warm, as a light breeze messes her hair up. It's longer, Jack will think, longer than he remembered.
"It sucked," she will say after a while, as her bare feet shift in the dirt of the jungle floor while not getting dirty at all. "Dying, I mean. It wasn't even dignified."
"No one thought it wasn't."
"Doesn't mean a thing. Well, someone wants to see you. Catch you later."
Her fingers will slightly caress his cheek, not more than a feather touch. She will be gone, too, just after.
--
"Bollocks, I had bet on you."
"What?"
Charlie will be sitting on a rock nearby, guitar hanging at his side, shorter hair, leather jacket, looking at him with half disappointment and half resignation.
"We bet on who's going to stay alive for longer. And mate, I thought you would have been the one left. What a bummer, now I owe Shannon."
"You really did?"
"Sure. Hey, you always were reliable, right?"
Suddenly Charlie will laugh and at least it'll be genuine. For a second, Jack will think he had missed that sound. "Sorry. Well, I did lose the bet, but I can't exactly blame you. Staying alive here? Mate, that's quite the catch."
Jack will smile in return, not much of a smile to be honest, but still. Better than nothing.
"Well, figures I should say glad to have you here. Since, you know, it's done."
"Yeah. And I don't regret it."
"That's better. Regretting it makes things harder. Well, I gotta go. Someone wants to see you."
And he will be gone, too.
--
Jack won't say anything when his father will show up in front of him, dressed with some old, worn out clothes and half a smile on his face. If this is heaven... well, Jack wouldn't have expected to find him here. His dad never was the person who ends up in heaven. But after all, he was told not to keep his expectations high.
"You finally came back."
Not a question and Jack would rather not answer, but it wouldn't do. "Yeah, I did." And what good was it, he will think but won't say.
Christian will nod and place a hand on his shoulder for a fleeting second, then remove it. Jack won't move.
"What I told your friend... the one you saved just now... well, it was true."
He’s proud of him. And he loves him., Jack will remember, and it’ll hurt.
"Why would you tell me now?" he will ask, trying not to scream.
"I owe you. And I think I should go. Someone wants to see you."
He will disappear soon after and Jack will wonder what's going on. He had thought they meant him, his father. That he was the one wanting to see him. Who else could it be?
--
"Hi, Jack."
Jack will gasp and turn on his side; Boone will be standing there, looking at the ground, slightly longer hair, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He will raise his head and look straight at Jack next, blue eyes wide and strangely watery. He will blink a couple of times and when he will say that he's sorry Jack won't doubt it for a second.
"Well, can't say I'm thrilled. I guess it had..."
"Don't say it had to happen. I know, but... just don't say it."
Jack will nod and Boone will come closer, standing in front of him.
"I guess I can at least thank you in person."
"Thank me...?"
"Jack, you know."
And Jack will suddenly know and will barely nod; Boone will bite his lip and shrug just after, suddenly uncomfortable.
"It's just... I didn't want you to. You shouldn't be here."
"You shouldn't either," Jack will answer, his voice low, and he will mean it. He will really mean it. Boone shouldn't have been there. He also could not have been, if Locke just hadn't...
"Don't think about it. It's done, right?"
"Right. So... you wanted to see me just to say thanks?"
"Not really. I just... wanted to see you."
Boone's arms will be around his shoulders then, the touch tentative, and Jack will just lose it and practically crush him to his chest. His heart doesn't beat and Jack's doesn't either, but for the rest Boone just feels as a living person would, his skin warm, his body real and there and mostly important, whole. He won't care about much else. And then Boone will whisper against his neck, "You still haven't seen much. Of... well, this," and Jack will answer "Fine, then just show me," and Boone will nod and take his wrist and lead him further into the jungle. Jack won't know what awaits him, but it won't really matter.
End.
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no subject
Date: 2009-02-02 09:22 pm (UTC)Surprises & I give you my all: Way beyond hot. Wow.
The Everlasting Yes And No: I really like what you did with the prompt on this one. Really nice.
What Works Best: This was really sweet, but those two just are the way you write them.
Someone Wants To See You: This makes the afterlife look hopeful, but I really hope this does not happen.
You're on a roll!
no subject
Date: 2009-02-02 10:00 pm (UTC)Thank you so much, very glad you liked these! I kind of like how the no one came out so glad to hear it worked with the prompt. And aw, hearing they're like that makes me indeed a happy camper.
Also? I've written that one just because I had an excuse to reunite them but like I was going to kill Jack otherwise. I definitely hope it doesn't happen INDEED. Thanks again, glad you enjoyed them! ♥
no subject
Date: 2009-03-13 10:36 pm (UTC)Lol
I love them all. Any Jack/Boone fic gets to my hearth right away.
:D
no subject
Date: 2009-03-16 12:00 pm (UTC)