janie_tangerine (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
janie_tangerine) wrote2009-03-31 10:37 pm
janie_tangerine) wrote2009-03-31 10:37 pm
three ficlets for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
un_love_you, all Boone related
Well, I am brain-dead and I need to start with the dump. Sorry in advance, but this will be the only one for today.
Title: Not What It Seems
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Sawyer/Boone
Words: 677
Summary: Contrary to appearances, Boone Carlyle does not fuck like a girl. Hell, no.
Spoilers: none if you have seen S1.
Disclaimer: Lost is not mine and I'm sure you didn't expect it.
A/N: written ages ago for thelostsquee fic battle, for the prompt like fucking a girl; using for un_love_you #26, I can be like you.
Contrary to appearances, Boone Carlyle does not fuck like a girl. Hell, no.
Sawyer isn’t one to change his opinion about something often, but this time he has. Because the only thing that Boone Carlyle and a girl could have in common while fucking is the position.
A woman is curves and breasts and soft skin, a woman likes to be worshiped and cherished and to feel like she’s the only one for you, a woman will be wet and ready just after you sweet-talk her a bit. With that ridiculously pretty face Boone has, Sawyer had always figured he’d be the same.
He was wrong all over the line; because Boone is all lithe muscles and warm, tanned skin, not as soft as a woman’s though; he isn’t at all submissive, he doesn’t like any kind of sweet talking (all the contrary; that mouth might be pretty, but it surely knows how to be fucking filthy), he doesn’t want attentions or any kind of worship. It’s clear for the first time that all he wants is a good fuck and he doesn’t make things easy. Sawyer might be inside him and Boone will push his hips up and meet him there, he will be the one deciding the rhythm and the pace and that’s not what Sawyer had been expecting. Sawyer never was with a woman with a mouth as pretty as Boone’s and no woman he ever fucked was as good as giving head as Boone is. It’s quite the sight, those pretty, full, soft lips taking his cock in and then Boone’s tongue will flicker and he will take him deeper than any woman ever has and Sawyer will come in a short while with an undignified cry because he’s just too fucking good at it to last much.
Women want men to search for them; wrong again because he never went searching for Boone. He always was the one who searched for him. Not that Sawyer minds at all.
Women usually needed to be treated with care. Sawyer won’t give a damn about care, or so he learned after the first time; with Boone, he just fucks him hard and fast and rough because he won’t let him do it any other way. Sure, it’s not like Sawyer would have considered another way, but still, he just doesn’t give him a choice.
Women want to talk after sex, they want to be held, they want a sort of sweet aftermath to be there after everything it’s done; Boone never says anything and Sawyer, who never was one for words, doesn't talk. Over the course of the years he has whispered endless meaningless and false sweet nothings in the ears of endless women, who all believed him, not even suspecting that he was just conning them, after all; he can do without talking. What unsettles him is that Boone just looks straight at him and sometimes says out of the blue that it’s still just sex; like he knew already that Sawyer is terrified of this becoming something more than sex. But more than this, he’s terrified because it doesn’t seem like it and he might look like your usual clueless girl, but Boone isn’t clueless at all and Sawyer knows he’d know it right away if there was some sort of con going on. There isn’t and that’s also why fucking Boone isn’t like fucking a woman. There isn’t a woman who wasn’t a hooker, in the last fifteen years of his life, whom Sawyer hasn’t screwed in order to con her; with Boone, there’s really nothing behind it if not whatever physical attraction is between them and he figures an easy way to have some release. Easy because Sawyer won’t tell and Boone won’t tell and no one knows and no one has to know. And it feels good to have sex with someone with, really, no strings attached.
No, Sawyer thinks, fucking Boone Carlyle isn’t like fucking a girl at all; and that’s exactly the reason why it’s the best he has had since a long time.
End.
Title: Such A Tease
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Boone/Charlie
Words: 1005
Summary: While he can get someone being annoyed, Charlie is being a pain instead of cooperating here and no, the fact that it's Charlie's back being pushed on the blanket full of holes doesn't mean that he's going to justify him much longer just because of that.
Spoilers: none if you have seen S1.
Disclaimer: Lost is not mine and I'm sure you didn't expect it.
A/N: written ages ago for thelostsquee fic battle, for the prompt S1 sex with snark; using for un_love_you #24, I want you to hate me.
The blanket is rough and full of holes; the tent is small and it's three in the afternoon and it's hot and there's this pretty irksome fly buzzing around and they can't exactly crush it considering the position they're in.
This is why he hasn't still snapped because hell, while he can get someone being annoyed, Charlie is being a pain instead of cooperating here and no, the fact that it's Charlie's back being pushed on the blanket full of holes doesn't mean that he's going to justify him much longer just because of that.
"Mate, you sure you can't do anything about that pesky bloody..."
"Charlie, I'd love to, but if you... ah... haven't noticed, have a look at where my finger are and tell me if I can crush a fly."
Because that's pretty much hard to do when your finger, carefully covered in Shannon's sunscreen which you kind of stole from her this morning, is busy with another task, precisely, stretching Charlie open as Boone lies over him, both of them mostly naked except for their shirts. And it'd be even harder now since he's about to add the second one; Charlie can't ask that of him right now.
"Well, I figure that yes, it'd be quite the obstacle, but still, that thing's really..."
"Oh, shut up."
"Why, doesn't it bother you?"
"Yes, but I don't make a tenth of the fuss you're making over it. It'll fly out on its own eventually. And anyway, I bet that in a minute you won't be thinking about it."
Charlie's grin suddenly widens, a sort of challenging edge in his expression.
"Really?"
"You bet," Boone spells out before adding a second finger and pushing further; he smiles in satisfaction when Charlie's expression suddenly changes and the legs spread wider on automatic. A moan escapes Charlie's lips when he slowly spreads his fingers, just like a scissor, then pulls them together again, then repeats the gesture, only faster. He kisses Charlie, drinking the now helpless moans, feeling him shiver under his frame, definitely satisfied with himself. He isn't nowhere near done, anyway.
"I think you should... ah... control yourself. Someone's going to hear."
"Oh, bugger off. I don't... oh, you... are you doing..."
"I'm doing exactly what you think I'm doing," Boone whispers in his hear trying not to sound like he's having too much fun as he pushes his fingers a bit further while still scissoring, changing the pace randomly. He doesn't warn Charlie when he suddenly pulls them out.
"Oh, you wanker, what the..."
"Why, I could keep on with that, but I figured you'd want to take the next step."
He winks as he says it, his face merely inches from Charlie's, and he notices too well when Charlie's lips suddenly get dry as soon as he's finished talking.
"Oh, so it looks like you do want it after all."
"You know what, mate, you're the worst sodding tease I've ever..."
"I've been told that I am," he keeps on smoothly, keeping his voice even. "It doesn't really change much. Come on, you just need to ask me nicely. And to admit that you aren't thinking about the fly."
"What sodding fl... oh, you..."
"Knew it. So, ask nicely? You know it'll be worthy."
"Just... just fuck me already, damn you and..."
"I said nicely."
"Please. That alright for His Prettiness?"
"Why, if you make me royalty, too, now that's enough indeed."
Satisfied with the way things are going, Boone is fast when he has to grab the sunscreen again; he pours probably half of the bottle in his hands (he'll bribe Sawyer later for another; some things are worth suffering for), letting out a sigh when he's done slicking his cock. He might tease himself, but it's not like meanwhile he didn't get harder than he was before, and he was. Indeed.
There has been too much teasing already, they're both ready and they both want it; no sense in taking it too slowly. It takes just one thrust and then he's inside Charlie and it's tight and warm and oh, it feels just so good. Charlie's fingers run over his back and oh, Boone loves how the calloused skin of his left feels. Legs hook up behind his waist and he keeps on thrusting then, small shallow ones at first and then faster and harder; Charlie's hips push up against him meeting rhythm, so he figures he doesn't need to slow down. His hands go to Charlie's face and grab it just when he know he's about to come; he kisses him then, feels Charlie moaning helplessly, plunges his tongue forward, aware that Charlie's hands are on his hips right now and he'll have bruises showing tomorrow.
Who cares. He comes in a blind rush, eyelids closed, pleasure running through every inch of his body, feeling Charlie coming too against his stomach and it just feels incredible and he won't ever tell Charlie, but as he eases out and drops next to him on the blanket, he thinks that he hasn't had sex as good as this for months. He feels great and since Charlie isn't moving much and hasn't even opened his eyes he figures he has every reason to feel satisfied with himself. The fly is still buzzing somewhere, but Boone doesn't even have the strength to locate it.
"That was sodding good. Hate to admit it, and you talk way too much and tease way too much, but sure as bloody hell you know what you're doing."
"Hate to break it to you, but I wasn't the one talking in the beginning."
"Why, you weren't?"
"If you hadn't start complaining about everything I wouldn't have."
"Was I?"
"Sure. Already forgotten the fly?"
"Oh, you are a tease."
"You can’t really hate me that much."
"I bloody do. And you did a sodding great job in making me."
But then Charlie just proceeds on kissing the hell out of him after and Boone figures he wasn't that wrong.
End.
Title: Annunciation
Rating: PG
Characters: Ben, dead!Boone
Words: 728
Summary: Ben figures this guy is just your usual arts student whom you always meet in the Tate gallery and turns his attention back on the painting, feeling his cell phone in his pocket. The call should arrive any second.
Spoilers: mostly for S4 including the finale. I wrote it before S5 aired so take it as an AU even if it's technically set in S5.
Disclaimer: Lost is not mine and I'm sure you didn't expect it.
A/N: written for my interview at thethequillstation, using for un_love_you #18, I pity you.
“Beautiful painting, isn’t it?”
Ben’s eyes quickly shift from Magritte’s Annunciation to the young man on his left, who is observing that same painting. Ben doesn’t spare him more than a glance: average tall, in his early twenties, Grateful Dead shirt and jeans jacket, long-ish brown hair and huge blue eyes. Looks like a Woodstock reject, only forty years too late. Ben figures this guy is just your usual arts student whom you always meet in the Tate gallery and turns his attention back on the painting, feeling his cell phone in his pocket. The call should arrive any second.
“I think that the chess pieces are really what sells it.”
“Maybe,” Ben answers, not bothering to hide his annoyance. He doesn’t want to talk with art students right now, not when Sayid is supposed to tell him any second he has finally done it and...
“Mr. Linus, you’re wasting your time. He won’t be calling. You asked too much of him, if I can share my opinion.”
Ben jerks and takes a better look at the student; he hadn’t noticed that he had bare feet and that the corner of his lips is curled up into a smirk. How did they let him in with bare feet?
“How do you know... and wait a second, who are you?”
“I was on Oceanic Flight 815.”
This doesn’t really sound right. Not at all.
“It can’t be. I don’t know you. You...”
“I never had a file.”
Ben’s mouth opens and closes without finding anything to say; it’s ridiculous.
“If you want to know how I know, Alex told me.”
“Alex?”
“Fine, we never met, but I know you by fame and let me tell you, I pictured you smarter. You really haven’t figured it out yet?”
“You’re dead?”
“Yeah, and I’m also here. Sucks, but you know, so does fate. As I was saying before, Sayid won’t be calling. Goes unsaid that if you want Penny Widmore dead you’ll have to get your own hands dirty, but regarding just that, Alex said you really shouldn’t. See, she doesn’t exactly feel like seeing you herself, but she wanted her message to come through anyway. She doesn’t want anyone to die.”
“This is nonsense.”
“Free to believe what you want, Mr. Linus, but you’ll just make her more miserable than she is. And I assure you that death makes you miserable indeed.”
“But who are you?” Ben hisses, figuring that if someone saw him they’d think he was talking on his own. “And what do you want?”
“How rude, I forgot to introduce. I’m Boone, and we are working to sort out the mess you and John made. I hope you can guess who we are.”
Ben barely nods, trying not to move or to show any reaction; he figures that we equals dead, whoever they are.
“Good, at least I won’t waste more time than I already have. Anyway, forget about Penny Widmore. You need to go back, all of you, and we really wish no one else joined us in the process. So, Mr. Linus, if I can give you some friendly advice, clean up your own mess, put your head to some intelligent use and see to use your knowledge to get back.”
“The island moved, if you don’t know.”
“Of course I know,” he replies, his voice pretty sarcastic, like Ben had just stated the existence of hot water, “and I took care of that too, since you’re not the only one who has to clean up his own mess here. Well, I need to go now. I have places to be in, you know. Just one last thing. When you see John, because you will very soon, tell him that this time he really needs to clean up his own mess. You know, he tends to forget.”
He smiles for a second, even if it’s more of a smirk; then he’s suddenly gone, vanished into thin air like he never was there in the first place; Ben takes the phone out with trembling hands, his eyes fixed on Magritte. Someone sent a text; it reads I won’t do it and when he tries calling Sayid he meets a dead line. He doesn’t turn when he hears a soft noise coming from behind him. He can recognize the sound of a wheelchair being pushed on a clean floor.
End.
Title: Not What It Seems
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Sawyer/Boone
Words: 677
Summary: Contrary to appearances, Boone Carlyle does not fuck like a girl. Hell, no.
Spoilers: none if you have seen S1.
Disclaimer: Lost is not mine and I'm sure you didn't expect it.
A/N: written ages ago for the
lostsquee fic battle, for the prompt like fucking a girl; using for un_love_you #26, I can be like you.Contrary to appearances, Boone Carlyle does not fuck like a girl. Hell, no.
Sawyer isn’t one to change his opinion about something often, but this time he has. Because the only thing that Boone Carlyle and a girl could have in common while fucking is the position.
A woman is curves and breasts and soft skin, a woman likes to be worshiped and cherished and to feel like she’s the only one for you, a woman will be wet and ready just after you sweet-talk her a bit. With that ridiculously pretty face Boone has, Sawyer had always figured he’d be the same.
He was wrong all over the line; because Boone is all lithe muscles and warm, tanned skin, not as soft as a woman’s though; he isn’t at all submissive, he doesn’t like any kind of sweet talking (all the contrary; that mouth might be pretty, but it surely knows how to be fucking filthy), he doesn’t want attentions or any kind of worship. It’s clear for the first time that all he wants is a good fuck and he doesn’t make things easy. Sawyer might be inside him and Boone will push his hips up and meet him there, he will be the one deciding the rhythm and the pace and that’s not what Sawyer had been expecting. Sawyer never was with a woman with a mouth as pretty as Boone’s and no woman he ever fucked was as good as giving head as Boone is. It’s quite the sight, those pretty, full, soft lips taking his cock in and then Boone’s tongue will flicker and he will take him deeper than any woman ever has and Sawyer will come in a short while with an undignified cry because he’s just too fucking good at it to last much.
Women want men to search for them; wrong again because he never went searching for Boone. He always was the one who searched for him. Not that Sawyer minds at all.
Women usually needed to be treated with care. Sawyer won’t give a damn about care, or so he learned after the first time; with Boone, he just fucks him hard and fast and rough because he won’t let him do it any other way. Sure, it’s not like Sawyer would have considered another way, but still, he just doesn’t give him a choice.
Women want to talk after sex, they want to be held, they want a sort of sweet aftermath to be there after everything it’s done; Boone never says anything and Sawyer, who never was one for words, doesn't talk. Over the course of the years he has whispered endless meaningless and false sweet nothings in the ears of endless women, who all believed him, not even suspecting that he was just conning them, after all; he can do without talking. What unsettles him is that Boone just looks straight at him and sometimes says out of the blue that it’s still just sex; like he knew already that Sawyer is terrified of this becoming something more than sex. But more than this, he’s terrified because it doesn’t seem like it and he might look like your usual clueless girl, but Boone isn’t clueless at all and Sawyer knows he’d know it right away if there was some sort of con going on. There isn’t and that’s also why fucking Boone isn’t like fucking a woman. There isn’t a woman who wasn’t a hooker, in the last fifteen years of his life, whom Sawyer hasn’t screwed in order to con her; with Boone, there’s really nothing behind it if not whatever physical attraction is between them and he figures an easy way to have some release. Easy because Sawyer won’t tell and Boone won’t tell and no one knows and no one has to know. And it feels good to have sex with someone with, really, no strings attached.
No, Sawyer thinks, fucking Boone Carlyle isn’t like fucking a girl at all; and that’s exactly the reason why it’s the best he has had since a long time.
End.
Title: Such A Tease
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Boone/Charlie
Words: 1005
Summary: While he can get someone being annoyed, Charlie is being a pain instead of cooperating here and no, the fact that it's Charlie's back being pushed on the blanket full of holes doesn't mean that he's going to justify him much longer just because of that.
Spoilers: none if you have seen S1.
Disclaimer: Lost is not mine and I'm sure you didn't expect it.
A/N: written ages ago for the
lostsquee fic battle, for the prompt S1 sex with snark; using for un_love_you #24, I want you to hate me.The blanket is rough and full of holes; the tent is small and it's three in the afternoon and it's hot and there's this pretty irksome fly buzzing around and they can't exactly crush it considering the position they're in.
This is why he hasn't still snapped because hell, while he can get someone being annoyed, Charlie is being a pain instead of cooperating here and no, the fact that it's Charlie's back being pushed on the blanket full of holes doesn't mean that he's going to justify him much longer just because of that.
"Mate, you sure you can't do anything about that pesky bloody..."
"Charlie, I'd love to, but if you... ah... haven't noticed, have a look at where my finger are and tell me if I can crush a fly."
Because that's pretty much hard to do when your finger, carefully covered in Shannon's sunscreen which you kind of stole from her this morning, is busy with another task, precisely, stretching Charlie open as Boone lies over him, both of them mostly naked except for their shirts. And it'd be even harder now since he's about to add the second one; Charlie can't ask that of him right now.
"Well, I figure that yes, it'd be quite the obstacle, but still, that thing's really..."
"Oh, shut up."
"Why, doesn't it bother you?"
"Yes, but I don't make a tenth of the fuss you're making over it. It'll fly out on its own eventually. And anyway, I bet that in a minute you won't be thinking about it."
Charlie's grin suddenly widens, a sort of challenging edge in his expression.
"Really?"
"You bet," Boone spells out before adding a second finger and pushing further; he smiles in satisfaction when Charlie's expression suddenly changes and the legs spread wider on automatic. A moan escapes Charlie's lips when he slowly spreads his fingers, just like a scissor, then pulls them together again, then repeats the gesture, only faster. He kisses Charlie, drinking the now helpless moans, feeling him shiver under his frame, definitely satisfied with himself. He isn't nowhere near done, anyway.
"I think you should... ah... control yourself. Someone's going to hear."
"Oh, bugger off. I don't... oh, you... are you doing..."
"I'm doing exactly what you think I'm doing," Boone whispers in his hear trying not to sound like he's having too much fun as he pushes his fingers a bit further while still scissoring, changing the pace randomly. He doesn't warn Charlie when he suddenly pulls them out.
"Oh, you wanker, what the..."
"Why, I could keep on with that, but I figured you'd want to take the next step."
He winks as he says it, his face merely inches from Charlie's, and he notices too well when Charlie's lips suddenly get dry as soon as he's finished talking.
"Oh, so it looks like you do want it after all."
"You know what, mate, you're the worst sodding tease I've ever..."
"I've been told that I am," he keeps on smoothly, keeping his voice even. "It doesn't really change much. Come on, you just need to ask me nicely. And to admit that you aren't thinking about the fly."
"What sodding fl... oh, you..."
"Knew it. So, ask nicely? You know it'll be worthy."
"Just... just fuck me already, damn you and..."
"I said nicely."
"Please. That alright for His Prettiness?"
"Why, if you make me royalty, too, now that's enough indeed."
Satisfied with the way things are going, Boone is fast when he has to grab the sunscreen again; he pours probably half of the bottle in his hands (he'll bribe Sawyer later for another; some things are worth suffering for), letting out a sigh when he's done slicking his cock. He might tease himself, but it's not like meanwhile he didn't get harder than he was before, and he was. Indeed.
There has been too much teasing already, they're both ready and they both want it; no sense in taking it too slowly. It takes just one thrust and then he's inside Charlie and it's tight and warm and oh, it feels just so good. Charlie's fingers run over his back and oh, Boone loves how the calloused skin of his left feels. Legs hook up behind his waist and he keeps on thrusting then, small shallow ones at first and then faster and harder; Charlie's hips push up against him meeting rhythm, so he figures he doesn't need to slow down. His hands go to Charlie's face and grab it just when he know he's about to come; he kisses him then, feels Charlie moaning helplessly, plunges his tongue forward, aware that Charlie's hands are on his hips right now and he'll have bruises showing tomorrow.
Who cares. He comes in a blind rush, eyelids closed, pleasure running through every inch of his body, feeling Charlie coming too against his stomach and it just feels incredible and he won't ever tell Charlie, but as he eases out and drops next to him on the blanket, he thinks that he hasn't had sex as good as this for months. He feels great and since Charlie isn't moving much and hasn't even opened his eyes he figures he has every reason to feel satisfied with himself. The fly is still buzzing somewhere, but Boone doesn't even have the strength to locate it.
"That was sodding good. Hate to admit it, and you talk way too much and tease way too much, but sure as bloody hell you know what you're doing."
"Hate to break it to you, but I wasn't the one talking in the beginning."
"Why, you weren't?"
"If you hadn't start complaining about everything I wouldn't have."
"Was I?"
"Sure. Already forgotten the fly?"
"Oh, you are a tease."
"You can’t really hate me that much."
"I bloody do. And you did a sodding great job in making me."
But then Charlie just proceeds on kissing the hell out of him after and Boone figures he wasn't that wrong.
End.
Title: Annunciation
Rating: PG
Characters: Ben, dead!Boone
Words: 728
Summary: Ben figures this guy is just your usual arts student whom you always meet in the Tate gallery and turns his attention back on the painting, feeling his cell phone in his pocket. The call should arrive any second.
Spoilers: mostly for S4 including the finale. I wrote it before S5 aired so take it as an AU even if it's technically set in S5.
Disclaimer: Lost is not mine and I'm sure you didn't expect it.
A/N: written for my interview at the
thequillstation, using for un_love_you #18, I pity you.“Beautiful painting, isn’t it?”
Ben’s eyes quickly shift from Magritte’s Annunciation to the young man on his left, who is observing that same painting. Ben doesn’t spare him more than a glance: average tall, in his early twenties, Grateful Dead shirt and jeans jacket, long-ish brown hair and huge blue eyes. Looks like a Woodstock reject, only forty years too late. Ben figures this guy is just your usual arts student whom you always meet in the Tate gallery and turns his attention back on the painting, feeling his cell phone in his pocket. The call should arrive any second.
“I think that the chess pieces are really what sells it.”
“Maybe,” Ben answers, not bothering to hide his annoyance. He doesn’t want to talk with art students right now, not when Sayid is supposed to tell him any second he has finally done it and...
“Mr. Linus, you’re wasting your time. He won’t be calling. You asked too much of him, if I can share my opinion.”
Ben jerks and takes a better look at the student; he hadn’t noticed that he had bare feet and that the corner of his lips is curled up into a smirk. How did they let him in with bare feet?
“How do you know... and wait a second, who are you?”
“I was on Oceanic Flight 815.”
This doesn’t really sound right. Not at all.
“It can’t be. I don’t know you. You...”
“I never had a file.”
Ben’s mouth opens and closes without finding anything to say; it’s ridiculous.
“If you want to know how I know, Alex told me.”
“Alex?”
“Fine, we never met, but I know you by fame and let me tell you, I pictured you smarter. You really haven’t figured it out yet?”
“You’re dead?”
“Yeah, and I’m also here. Sucks, but you know, so does fate. As I was saying before, Sayid won’t be calling. Goes unsaid that if you want Penny Widmore dead you’ll have to get your own hands dirty, but regarding just that, Alex said you really shouldn’t. See, she doesn’t exactly feel like seeing you herself, but she wanted her message to come through anyway. She doesn’t want anyone to die.”
“This is nonsense.”
“Free to believe what you want, Mr. Linus, but you’ll just make her more miserable than she is. And I assure you that death makes you miserable indeed.”
“But who are you?” Ben hisses, figuring that if someone saw him they’d think he was talking on his own. “And what do you want?”
“How rude, I forgot to introduce. I’m Boone, and we are working to sort out the mess you and John made. I hope you can guess who we are.”
Ben barely nods, trying not to move or to show any reaction; he figures that we equals dead, whoever they are.
“Good, at least I won’t waste more time than I already have. Anyway, forget about Penny Widmore. You need to go back, all of you, and we really wish no one else joined us in the process. So, Mr. Linus, if I can give you some friendly advice, clean up your own mess, put your head to some intelligent use and see to use your knowledge to get back.”
“The island moved, if you don’t know.”
“Of course I know,” he replies, his voice pretty sarcastic, like Ben had just stated the existence of hot water, “and I took care of that too, since you’re not the only one who has to clean up his own mess here. Well, I need to go now. I have places to be in, you know. Just one last thing. When you see John, because you will very soon, tell him that this time he really needs to clean up his own mess. You know, he tends to forget.”
He smiles for a second, even if it’s more of a smirk; then he’s suddenly gone, vanished into thin air like he never was there in the first place; Ben takes the phone out with trembling hands, his eyes fixed on Magritte. Someone sent a text; it reads I won’t do it and when he tries calling Sayid he meets a dead line. He doesn’t turn when he hears a soft noise coming from behind him. He can recognize the sound of a wheelchair being pushed on a clean floor.
End.
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That said, good to know that there's drooling going around! ;) The Ben-and-Boone thing was so good to write. It just felt so good to write it, seriously. And ha, well, I had to arrive to the naughty stuff, I mean, I wrote it in my language and it was way more embarrassing, it had to happen sooner or later, but thanks so much again, much glad I gave your glands a nice workout!!
(and yeah, he's so pretty. *sigh*)