Lost (Sawyer/Sayid)
Jul. 1st, 2007 11:52 pmTitle: Pecking Order
Author:
skitz_phenom
Rating: Hard R
Warnings: Aggressive M/M Smut
Word count: 2,043
Summary: Prompt #43, due July 1, Lost, Sawyer/Sayid: Pack dynamics - "it was all about finally knowing exactly where each stood"
A/N: I’ve still got 10 minutes left of July 1st!
On his back in the sand, Sawyer swiped abraded knuckles across his chin, smearing the trickle of blood that wended its way down from the fresh split on his lip. “Well, well, Abdullah, so that’s the way it’s gonna be now, is it?” He gave a wet smirk to the man standing over him.
Sayid stood stiff, hand balled into a fist and one split knuckle sporting its own bit of red. “Yes.” He said in a matter-of-fact tone that contradicted the heated glare and matching scowl. “That is how it will be.” He shook his head with a ‘tsking’ noise and then turned on a heel and stalked away.
Watching him head back across the beach, Sawyer lifted himself up from where the Iraqi’s fist had sent him sprawling. The sound of approaching footsteps told him that someone was coming over to help, and he had a good idea who it might be. “Back off, Freckles.” He said, levering himself back to his feet. “Don’t need no help from you.”
“Sawyer.” To his surprise he saw that she wasn’t moving to offer help, but instead standing a few feet away with her hands on her hips and brows furrowed.
“What?” He asked innocently, dusting the sand from his jeans.
Kate sniffed. “You know what. Why do you keep messing with Sayid like that? What is going on with you two? This is the third time you two have gone at it in a week.”
Sawyer shrugged. “You know how it is with guys, Freckles.” He grinned smarmily. “Gotta establish the pecking order. Apparently Gandhi don’t want to come second to the likes of me.”
“Doesn’t look like he did.” She retorted, clearly annoyed and in one of her ‘holier than thou’ moods. “Seeing as you were the one knocked on your ass.”
Glowering, Sawyer shot back: “Don’t you got something to be bothering the Doc about?” He almost felt bad when her face fell and she opened her mouth as if to say more but ended up just frowning. Almost. She withdrew just as fast as Sayid had.
He didn’t watch the brunette’s departure, opting instead to head back to his tent. There was a copy of Motor Trend he wanted to reread before he lost the light. Some quiet time in the privacy of his own abode was just what he needed to take his mind off of both of his perpetual conflicts.
Sometime later as the sun drifted low in the sky, sluggishly sinking towards the horizon, Sawyer left his tent. He cast a caution eye about him as he headed toward the trees, but no one seemed to be paying too close of attention to his comings and goings these days. Well, except for Kate, although right now it looked like she was pointedly ignoring him. She’d be stinging about that comment for a few days, he figured.
Slipping into the cool and dim shadows of the trees, Sawyer purposefully made his way along something that was not quite a trail. He was careful when he came this way; careful not to disturb the grasses and branches too much lest the destination become too easily accessible. Locke might have recognized the hidden path for what it was, but he doubted any of the others would see enough of it to follow.
He emerged from the trees nearly twenty minutes later into a small clearing, finding that night had gained dominion of the sky. The sun still put up a token protest, its lingering light fighting against the stars peeking out from the curtain of blue, but dusk held sway. Despite the darkness he made his way with easy familiarity over to a large boulder and took a seat, perching there like a waiting gargoyle.
More time passed in eerie silence, broken only by the whisper of wind through the trees and the skittering noise of an occasional night creature shuffling through the underbrush. It was the sound of the soft crush of grasses underfoot accompanied by the occasional slap of slender branches being carefully pushed aside, that told Sawyer that he was no longer alone. He spotted the intruder as a dark shape emerging from the gloom of the trees. The figure slowly made its way further into the clearing, the light from a waning gibbous and pinpricks of starlight casting it in a chiaroscuro of moonlit angles and splashes of ebon shadow.
“You’re late.” Sawyer drawled.
The figure stopped; turned towards him. “I am not late.” The voice was deep and the accent unmistakable. “You arrived early.”
Moving like quicksilver in the dark, Sawyer sprung from his perch on the rock. His hands unerringly found the other man’s arms and after a quick struggle they were both down on the ground, panting. “I said: you’re late.” Sawyer growled.
Pinned beneath him, one arm crushed beneath his chest and the other craned uncomfortably behind his back, Sayid chuckled breathily even as he squirmed against his confinement. “And I still say that you were early.”
“Oh really?” Sawyer leaned his weight further, pressing down with his hips and pushing up on the arm so that the other man’s hand nearly touched the nape of his neck.
With a hiss of pain, Sayid nodded. “Really.”
Sawyer gave his own laugh, sounding both aggravated and amused. “You know I’m gonna hafta do something about that.”
The next hiss of breath that escaped Sayid’s lips was for an entirely different reason as Sawyer’s mouth latched onto the back of his neck, nipping at the tender skin there. Working one hand free, he threaded fingers up through Sayid’s hair, fisting them to jerk his head aside. His eager mouth moved to attack the exposed throat, tongue laving a path from the curve of one ear down to the taut jugular. He ground his hips against the other man’s ass with a low groan.
Bucking up against the pressure, Sayid managed to get his arm loose and tried to use the leverage to shift the other man off. He succeeding in getting himself flipped, but Sawyer was quick to wrangle his arms yet again, pinning them above his head.
“I don’t think so.” Sawyer barked, his voice low and guttural. “You can play at bein’ the boss of me in front of everyone else.” He wedged a knee between Sayid’s legs, forcing them apart, pressing his thigh against the obvious bulge to drive his point home. “But out here, Sayid. Out here, we know who’s in charge.”
Even in the darkness Sawyer could see that the Iraqi’s expression hovered somewhere between petulant anger and overwhelming passion. “Out here.” He finally spat in reluctant agreement.
Sawyer grinned. “Glad to hear you agree.” His voice was still low but the rough edge had been replaced by a honeyed, whiskey tone. He dipped his head forward, catching Sayid’s mouth in a hungry kiss. His tongue swept out, demanding entrance and the other man was quick to comply.
Writing beneath him, Sayid pulled back after a few minutes, breaking the kiss.
“What?”
“Your lip.” Sayid explained hoarsely. “I taste blood.”
Prodding at the corner of his mouth with the tip of his tongue, Sawyer felt a spot of warm wetness and tasted a coppery tang. He chuckled. “You pack a mean fist sometimes.” He declared before closing the distance again.
Against his mouth, Sayid replied, “Only because you like it.”
Grunting his assent, Sawyer loosed the arms he’d been holding, and worked his hands down the firm chest and rippling abdomen, curling his fingers in the fabric of Sayid’s T-shirt. He tugged at it, pulling his mouth away only long enough to wrangle it over Sayid’s head.
Despite being freed, Sayid made no move to escape and instead followed the other man’s example, his hand frantically scrabbling at the loose, button up shirt that Sawyer so thoughtfully wore unbuttoned. A few minutes of tugging found it tossed carelessly aside.
Their hands met between them as Sawyer shifted to a kneeling position to allow both of them access to each others pants. Once Sayid had his button and zipper down and his jeans rucked around his hips, Sawyer shimmied them the rest of the way down. Meanwhile he worked at Sayid’s belt, grumbling about the inconvenience even as their mouths continued to battle frantically.
He could feel Sayid laughing at his struggles, and he growled again, finally yanking the offending strap free. He pushed at the khakis, sliding them down as far as his arms could reach. Slipping his hands back up the firm thighs, his scowl turned quickly to a grin. “Commando, huh? See you took a lesson from me about your choice of underwear.” He propped himself up on one arm as he slid his other palm over the velvety smooth skin of Sayid’s cock a few times, and then wrapped his fingers around the firm shaft, eliciting a low moan from the other man.
Lowering himself back down, Sawyer pressed his own painfully hard shaft against Sayid’s naked belly. He shifted until he could grip the both of them in his hot fist and he began to rock his hips slowly even as he pumped his hand in steady pace. Their sweat-slick bodies slid together, and Sayid wrapped his arms around Sawyer’s shoulders, hands kneading the muscles that shifted and bunched with every thrust.
Sayids’ groans reverberated in counterpoint to those that rumbled in his own chest, and Sawyer knew the other man was close to coming. He went still suddenly, ceasing the motion of both his hand and his hips. “No.” He declared with a primal grunt. “That’s not how you’re gonna go.” He released both of them, and pushed himself away.
Rocking back on his heels, he spat in the palm of his hand. They were both already slick with sweat and pre-come, but he knew that a little more lubrication would make it easier on the both of them. They both might have liked it rough, but there just certain injuries that were impossible to explain away to Jack.
Lying back in the grass, heavy-lidded and languid, Sayid watched Sawyer as he stroked himself several times, spreading the slickness over his jutting cock. When he was done, he hooked his hands underneath Sayid’s knees and pushed his legs up. Positioning himself, the glistening tip just pressing at the puckered entrance, Sawyer fixed Sayid with a firm glare. “You don’t get to come until I say so.”
Eyes now squeezed shut in anticipation, Sayid merely nodded briefly and bit at his lower lip.
“Good” And with a slow, but firm thrust, Sawyer slid inside. He pushed deep, until his balls pressed against Sayid’s ass, and then he pulled out just as slowly. With each thrust he leaned forward further, pressing Sayid’s own throbbing cock between them. Fingertips pressing with bruising intensity into Sawyer’s hips, Sayid rocked his own body to meet each plunge.
Hips pistoning in a steady rhythm, Sawyer felt the familiar tightening in his abdomen and his balls. He slammed against Sayid almost brutally as the tension spread up from his toes, gathering inwards deep in his belly before exploding outwards with blinding intensity. “Oh fuck.” He hissed through gritted teeth, body losing the steady cadence as his orgasm over took him. “Fuck Sayid, come with me.” He jerked and bucked forward and felt the warm splash of come spatter his chest as Sayid finally let himself go.
Sawyer collapse forward then, letting himself slump against the prone form beneath him while they both gasped and panted and groaned. For a few minutes, the only sounds to part the stillness were tandem inhales and wheezing exhales, until a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a laugh escaped with each of Sawyer’s panting breathes.
“What’s so funny?” Sayid managed after a few deep, shuddering breaths.
Rolling to his side, leaving one leg and one arm draped over the dark-haired man, Sawyer continued to chuckle breathlessly. “Just something I said to Freckles earlier.”
“Oh?” Lazy curiosity infused Sayid’s voice.
“Yeah.” Sawyer explained between breathes. “Told her you didn’t like to come second to me.” Turning a lazy grin on his lover, expression almost hidden in the darkness, he shrugged. “Guess I was wrong.”
Author:
Rating: Hard R
Warnings: Aggressive M/M Smut
Word count: 2,043
Summary: Prompt #43, due July 1, Lost, Sawyer/Sayid: Pack dynamics - "it was all about finally knowing exactly where each stood"
A/N: I’ve still got 10 minutes left of July 1st!
On his back in the sand, Sawyer swiped abraded knuckles across his chin, smearing the trickle of blood that wended its way down from the fresh split on his lip. “Well, well, Abdullah, so that’s the way it’s gonna be now, is it?” He gave a wet smirk to the man standing over him.
Sayid stood stiff, hand balled into a fist and one split knuckle sporting its own bit of red. “Yes.” He said in a matter-of-fact tone that contradicted the heated glare and matching scowl. “That is how it will be.” He shook his head with a ‘tsking’ noise and then turned on a heel and stalked away.
Watching him head back across the beach, Sawyer lifted himself up from where the Iraqi’s fist had sent him sprawling. The sound of approaching footsteps told him that someone was coming over to help, and he had a good idea who it might be. “Back off, Freckles.” He said, levering himself back to his feet. “Don’t need no help from you.”
“Sawyer.” To his surprise he saw that she wasn’t moving to offer help, but instead standing a few feet away with her hands on her hips and brows furrowed.
“What?” He asked innocently, dusting the sand from his jeans.
Kate sniffed. “You know what. Why do you keep messing with Sayid like that? What is going on with you two? This is the third time you two have gone at it in a week.”
Sawyer shrugged. “You know how it is with guys, Freckles.” He grinned smarmily. “Gotta establish the pecking order. Apparently Gandhi don’t want to come second to the likes of me.”
“Doesn’t look like he did.” She retorted, clearly annoyed and in one of her ‘holier than thou’ moods. “Seeing as you were the one knocked on your ass.”
Glowering, Sawyer shot back: “Don’t you got something to be bothering the Doc about?” He almost felt bad when her face fell and she opened her mouth as if to say more but ended up just frowning. Almost. She withdrew just as fast as Sayid had.
He didn’t watch the brunette’s departure, opting instead to head back to his tent. There was a copy of Motor Trend he wanted to reread before he lost the light. Some quiet time in the privacy of his own abode was just what he needed to take his mind off of both of his perpetual conflicts.
Sometime later as the sun drifted low in the sky, sluggishly sinking towards the horizon, Sawyer left his tent. He cast a caution eye about him as he headed toward the trees, but no one seemed to be paying too close of attention to his comings and goings these days. Well, except for Kate, although right now it looked like she was pointedly ignoring him. She’d be stinging about that comment for a few days, he figured.
Slipping into the cool and dim shadows of the trees, Sawyer purposefully made his way along something that was not quite a trail. He was careful when he came this way; careful not to disturb the grasses and branches too much lest the destination become too easily accessible. Locke might have recognized the hidden path for what it was, but he doubted any of the others would see enough of it to follow.
He emerged from the trees nearly twenty minutes later into a small clearing, finding that night had gained dominion of the sky. The sun still put up a token protest, its lingering light fighting against the stars peeking out from the curtain of blue, but dusk held sway. Despite the darkness he made his way with easy familiarity over to a large boulder and took a seat, perching there like a waiting gargoyle.
More time passed in eerie silence, broken only by the whisper of wind through the trees and the skittering noise of an occasional night creature shuffling through the underbrush. It was the sound of the soft crush of grasses underfoot accompanied by the occasional slap of slender branches being carefully pushed aside, that told Sawyer that he was no longer alone. He spotted the intruder as a dark shape emerging from the gloom of the trees. The figure slowly made its way further into the clearing, the light from a waning gibbous and pinpricks of starlight casting it in a chiaroscuro of moonlit angles and splashes of ebon shadow.
“You’re late.” Sawyer drawled.
The figure stopped; turned towards him. “I am not late.” The voice was deep and the accent unmistakable. “You arrived early.”
Moving like quicksilver in the dark, Sawyer sprung from his perch on the rock. His hands unerringly found the other man’s arms and after a quick struggle they were both down on the ground, panting. “I said: you’re late.” Sawyer growled.
Pinned beneath him, one arm crushed beneath his chest and the other craned uncomfortably behind his back, Sayid chuckled breathily even as he squirmed against his confinement. “And I still say that you were early.”
“Oh really?” Sawyer leaned his weight further, pressing down with his hips and pushing up on the arm so that the other man’s hand nearly touched the nape of his neck.
With a hiss of pain, Sayid nodded. “Really.”
Sawyer gave his own laugh, sounding both aggravated and amused. “You know I’m gonna hafta do something about that.”
The next hiss of breath that escaped Sayid’s lips was for an entirely different reason as Sawyer’s mouth latched onto the back of his neck, nipping at the tender skin there. Working one hand free, he threaded fingers up through Sayid’s hair, fisting them to jerk his head aside. His eager mouth moved to attack the exposed throat, tongue laving a path from the curve of one ear down to the taut jugular. He ground his hips against the other man’s ass with a low groan.
Bucking up against the pressure, Sayid managed to get his arm loose and tried to use the leverage to shift the other man off. He succeeding in getting himself flipped, but Sawyer was quick to wrangle his arms yet again, pinning them above his head.
“I don’t think so.” Sawyer barked, his voice low and guttural. “You can play at bein’ the boss of me in front of everyone else.” He wedged a knee between Sayid’s legs, forcing them apart, pressing his thigh against the obvious bulge to drive his point home. “But out here, Sayid. Out here, we know who’s in charge.”
Even in the darkness Sawyer could see that the Iraqi’s expression hovered somewhere between petulant anger and overwhelming passion. “Out here.” He finally spat in reluctant agreement.
Sawyer grinned. “Glad to hear you agree.” His voice was still low but the rough edge had been replaced by a honeyed, whiskey tone. He dipped his head forward, catching Sayid’s mouth in a hungry kiss. His tongue swept out, demanding entrance and the other man was quick to comply.
Writing beneath him, Sayid pulled back after a few minutes, breaking the kiss.
“What?”
“Your lip.” Sayid explained hoarsely. “I taste blood.”
Prodding at the corner of his mouth with the tip of his tongue, Sawyer felt a spot of warm wetness and tasted a coppery tang. He chuckled. “You pack a mean fist sometimes.” He declared before closing the distance again.
Against his mouth, Sayid replied, “Only because you like it.”
Grunting his assent, Sawyer loosed the arms he’d been holding, and worked his hands down the firm chest and rippling abdomen, curling his fingers in the fabric of Sayid’s T-shirt. He tugged at it, pulling his mouth away only long enough to wrangle it over Sayid’s head.
Despite being freed, Sayid made no move to escape and instead followed the other man’s example, his hand frantically scrabbling at the loose, button up shirt that Sawyer so thoughtfully wore unbuttoned. A few minutes of tugging found it tossed carelessly aside.
Their hands met between them as Sawyer shifted to a kneeling position to allow both of them access to each others pants. Once Sayid had his button and zipper down and his jeans rucked around his hips, Sawyer shimmied them the rest of the way down. Meanwhile he worked at Sayid’s belt, grumbling about the inconvenience even as their mouths continued to battle frantically.
He could feel Sayid laughing at his struggles, and he growled again, finally yanking the offending strap free. He pushed at the khakis, sliding them down as far as his arms could reach. Slipping his hands back up the firm thighs, his scowl turned quickly to a grin. “Commando, huh? See you took a lesson from me about your choice of underwear.” He propped himself up on one arm as he slid his other palm over the velvety smooth skin of Sayid’s cock a few times, and then wrapped his fingers around the firm shaft, eliciting a low moan from the other man.
Lowering himself back down, Sawyer pressed his own painfully hard shaft against Sayid’s naked belly. He shifted until he could grip the both of them in his hot fist and he began to rock his hips slowly even as he pumped his hand in steady pace. Their sweat-slick bodies slid together, and Sayid wrapped his arms around Sawyer’s shoulders, hands kneading the muscles that shifted and bunched with every thrust.
Sayids’ groans reverberated in counterpoint to those that rumbled in his own chest, and Sawyer knew the other man was close to coming. He went still suddenly, ceasing the motion of both his hand and his hips. “No.” He declared with a primal grunt. “That’s not how you’re gonna go.” He released both of them, and pushed himself away.
Rocking back on his heels, he spat in the palm of his hand. They were both already slick with sweat and pre-come, but he knew that a little more lubrication would make it easier on the both of them. They both might have liked it rough, but there just certain injuries that were impossible to explain away to Jack.
Lying back in the grass, heavy-lidded and languid, Sayid watched Sawyer as he stroked himself several times, spreading the slickness over his jutting cock. When he was done, he hooked his hands underneath Sayid’s knees and pushed his legs up. Positioning himself, the glistening tip just pressing at the puckered entrance, Sawyer fixed Sayid with a firm glare. “You don’t get to come until I say so.”
Eyes now squeezed shut in anticipation, Sayid merely nodded briefly and bit at his lower lip.
“Good” And with a slow, but firm thrust, Sawyer slid inside. He pushed deep, until his balls pressed against Sayid’s ass, and then he pulled out just as slowly. With each thrust he leaned forward further, pressing Sayid’s own throbbing cock between them. Fingertips pressing with bruising intensity into Sawyer’s hips, Sayid rocked his own body to meet each plunge.
Hips pistoning in a steady rhythm, Sawyer felt the familiar tightening in his abdomen and his balls. He slammed against Sayid almost brutally as the tension spread up from his toes, gathering inwards deep in his belly before exploding outwards with blinding intensity. “Oh fuck.” He hissed through gritted teeth, body losing the steady cadence as his orgasm over took him. “Fuck Sayid, come with me.” He jerked and bucked forward and felt the warm splash of come spatter his chest as Sayid finally let himself go.
Sawyer collapse forward then, letting himself slump against the prone form beneath him while they both gasped and panted and groaned. For a few minutes, the only sounds to part the stillness were tandem inhales and wheezing exhales, until a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a laugh escaped with each of Sawyer’s panting breathes.
“What’s so funny?” Sayid managed after a few deep, shuddering breaths.
Rolling to his side, leaving one leg and one arm draped over the dark-haired man, Sawyer continued to chuckle breathlessly. “Just something I said to Freckles earlier.”
“Oh?” Lazy curiosity infused Sayid’s voice.
“Yeah.” Sawyer explained between breathes. “Told her you didn’t like to come second to me.” Turning a lazy grin on his lover, expression almost hidden in the darkness, he shrugged. “Guess I was wrong.”
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Date: 2007-07-02 10:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-05 04:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-02 12:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-05 04:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-02 02:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-05 04:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-02 11:48 pm (UTC)This delighted the little gay man in me. VERRA HOT!
*flees*
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Date: 2007-07-05 04:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-03 02:39 pm (UTC)Plus, it was really hot.
Thank you so much!
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Date: 2007-07-05 04:08 pm (UTC)Thank you so much for the feedback! I'm so glad to hear that the dialouge and voices were believable! And I'm thrilled you found it hot! :)