B is for...
Words: 1277
Rating: NC-17; Graphic sex, even if it is pretty short, and mentions of abuse
Summary: Sawyer's broken Charlie, but he can't let himself be too.
Author's Note: I meant for this to be uncaring!Sawyer but somehow it shifted to Sawyer having two personalities. Whatever.
There's been many things that Sawyer's never understood. He never got any of the shit that they taught in high school, because he'd never gone past the ninth grade. He'd never quite got what made women mad, and what made them happy, because sometimes it was the same thing depending on different ones or different times. And he'd never gotten why he wanted to follow in his father's footsteps.
He could still remember the screams of his mother as he beat her, for so many different reasons. Whether it was because dinner hadn't been made, because she had mouthed back, because he suspected her of cheating (long before it had ever actually happened and he had always considered her not at fault, in view of everything), or just because he'd had one too many beers, those days Sawyer'd spent the night with the pillow covering his ears, trying desperately to get to bed.
It wasn't even the screaming that was the worst, but the silence afterwards, because he'd never know if his father had finally gotten rid of her. That had always terrified him, because she was the only person he could trust, the only person he actually cared about. His friends weren't that close, his father was an asshole, but his mother was different.
But he knows he won't hurt Charlie to that point. And it's for justified reasons, too. The man flirts with people, way too much, without ever realizing. He uses his hands a lot during talking, and can barely go five seconds without touching the person he's talking to. If it's Claire, it's fine. Charlie's gay, and he's seen the way the man looked appalled when he'd brought up the topic. If it's Aaron, it's fine. It's not like Charlie was some sick bastard. If it's Jack, or Sayid, or any other mildly-attractive man on the island, it isn't fine.
And today especially hadn't been fine. He'd been walking back from the caves, as he had the duty of getting the water for people, and had noticed Jack and Charlie talking by the fire as the sun began to set. There was way too many small touches from Jack, and Charlie was grinning, a grin he hadn't seen on the other's face in so damn long. Then it'd happened - Jack had leaned forward, after making sure no one was looking, and tried to kiss Charlie. The thing was that Charlie hadn't pulled back in time, had just sat there with wide eyes. Sawyer wasn't sure what would've happened if he hadn't come out at that second and pulled Jack back, only to punch him hard enough to make the other nearly stumble and fall into the fire. That would've been messy, but he hadn't, instead now being the one that was wide-eyed, staring at Charlie.
Charlie had just stood there and shook his head, looking at the ground, fear in his eyes. He was saying 'sorry' under his breath, but Sawyer wasn't sure to who, and he didn't like that. It had only taken five minutes to get the other into the jungle, no one watching or caring anymore, and to deliver the first hit. He knew Claire must've suspected, but she had no proof unless Charlie took off his shirt and pants. Sawyer wasn't stupid, even when he'd dipped into the hatch's liquor supply. Since the man didn't know how to swim - a blessing in disguise - he never undressed in front of her, and she never seemed to bring it up or Charlie never told him about it.
Now they are back in their tent, and Sawyer's inside Charlie. The younger man's face lays awkwardly against the blanket, while his legs are bent, and his ass is raised, exposing himself completely and also making sure that his neck hurts. Quick movements are given, making sure Charlie never gets any real pleasure, while also making sure that he himself gets the best. Charlie doesn't deserve any, but he does; he didn't break up with Charlie.
He can hear the other crying softly, and knows he shouldn't feel guilty for it. Charlie deserved it. He didn't push Jack away, didn't punch him, didn't yell that he was already taken. Yet the crying makes him tilt his hips a bit and go in slightly deeper, hitting a certain spot that makes one soft cry catch in Charlie's throat, and makes his eyes widen. The other looks back at him but all he does is give a small tilt of his lips, resembling the smallest smile.
Hand moving, it soon begins to jerk off Charlie while he moves faster, making sure not to miss the spot anymore. It only takes a minute for Charlie to come with a soft sob, and for Sawyer to follow three thrusts later.
Once they're resituated, Sawyer lying on his back with Charlie's head against his chest, the man does something he hasn't done in ages, not since they first got together. His hand slowly moves through the other's hair and he stares up at the tent, while Charlie softly cries. Now that they aren't fucking (it's never been anything more, or anything less, just fucking) anymore, Sawyer can't look at the other because of the bruises along his chest, the scars along his back, the small burns littering his legs. Instead, he just watches the tent top.
Finally he moves the other some and looks into Charlie's eyes. "So. What've you learned today?" he asks, knowing he has to do this every time he hurts the other. He has to make sure Charlie knows that it isn't because he's just drunken a bit too much, or had something bad happen. If it was because of that, he'd make sure Charlie wasn't the one to be hurt.
"To push Jack away when he kisses me," Charlie murmurs a bit tiredly, everything that had happened during the day exhausting him. Then he adds, "And to stay away from Jack if someone else isn't close by?"
A small nod is given and Sawyer grins some, getting a tiny, matching grin from Charlie as he lets the other's head rest on his chest again. "Yep."
It's only three simple words that Charlie says without any prompting that make Sawyer know he's finally won, he's broken the other and he doesn't have to worry. He's heard the stories of Charlie's past, how he's only really cared about one girl - Lucy, if he remembered right - and how Liam fucked him up, how his father hated him playing music but his mother depended on him for it, how messed up the man's head is from it all. He knows that the three simple words show how much Sawyer's taking advantage of him, because Jack wouldn't do this. If someone kissed him while he was with Jack, and he didn't move away but didn't kiss back, Jack would've just been angry or not talked to him for an hour. Those three words show him how fucked up it is. "I love you."
"Know you do," Sawyer murmurs back and closes his eyes. That's the closest he'll ever get, because he has Charlie broken, but if he says more or shows more, he'll risk being broken too.
Rating: NC-17; Graphic sex, even if it is pretty short, and mentions of abuse
Summary: Sawyer's broken Charlie, but he can't let himself be too.
Author's Note: I meant for this to be uncaring!Sawyer but somehow it shifted to Sawyer having two personalities. Whatever.
There's been many things that Sawyer's never understood. He never got any of the shit that they taught in high school, because he'd never gone past the ninth grade. He'd never quite got what made women mad, and what made them happy, because sometimes it was the same thing depending on different ones or different times. And he'd never gotten why he wanted to follow in his father's footsteps.
He could still remember the screams of his mother as he beat her, for so many different reasons. Whether it was because dinner hadn't been made, because she had mouthed back, because he suspected her of cheating (long before it had ever actually happened and he had always considered her not at fault, in view of everything), or just because he'd had one too many beers, those days Sawyer'd spent the night with the pillow covering his ears, trying desperately to get to bed.
It wasn't even the screaming that was the worst, but the silence afterwards, because he'd never know if his father had finally gotten rid of her. That had always terrified him, because she was the only person he could trust, the only person he actually cared about. His friends weren't that close, his father was an asshole, but his mother was different.
But he knows he won't hurt Charlie to that point. And it's for justified reasons, too. The man flirts with people, way too much, without ever realizing. He uses his hands a lot during talking, and can barely go five seconds without touching the person he's talking to. If it's Claire, it's fine. Charlie's gay, and he's seen the way the man looked appalled when he'd brought up the topic. If it's Aaron, it's fine. It's not like Charlie was some sick bastard. If it's Jack, or Sayid, or any other mildly-attractive man on the island, it isn't fine.
And today especially hadn't been fine. He'd been walking back from the caves, as he had the duty of getting the water for people, and had noticed Jack and Charlie talking by the fire as the sun began to set. There was way too many small touches from Jack, and Charlie was grinning, a grin he hadn't seen on the other's face in so damn long. Then it'd happened - Jack had leaned forward, after making sure no one was looking, and tried to kiss Charlie. The thing was that Charlie hadn't pulled back in time, had just sat there with wide eyes. Sawyer wasn't sure what would've happened if he hadn't come out at that second and pulled Jack back, only to punch him hard enough to make the other nearly stumble and fall into the fire. That would've been messy, but he hadn't, instead now being the one that was wide-eyed, staring at Charlie.
Charlie had just stood there and shook his head, looking at the ground, fear in his eyes. He was saying 'sorry' under his breath, but Sawyer wasn't sure to who, and he didn't like that. It had only taken five minutes to get the other into the jungle, no one watching or caring anymore, and to deliver the first hit. He knew Claire must've suspected, but she had no proof unless Charlie took off his shirt and pants. Sawyer wasn't stupid, even when he'd dipped into the hatch's liquor supply. Since the man didn't know how to swim - a blessing in disguise - he never undressed in front of her, and she never seemed to bring it up or Charlie never told him about it.
Now they are back in their tent, and Sawyer's inside Charlie. The younger man's face lays awkwardly against the blanket, while his legs are bent, and his ass is raised, exposing himself completely and also making sure that his neck hurts. Quick movements are given, making sure Charlie never gets any real pleasure, while also making sure that he himself gets the best. Charlie doesn't deserve any, but he does; he didn't break up with Charlie.
He can hear the other crying softly, and knows he shouldn't feel guilty for it. Charlie deserved it. He didn't push Jack away, didn't punch him, didn't yell that he was already taken. Yet the crying makes him tilt his hips a bit and go in slightly deeper, hitting a certain spot that makes one soft cry catch in Charlie's throat, and makes his eyes widen. The other looks back at him but all he does is give a small tilt of his lips, resembling the smallest smile.
Hand moving, it soon begins to jerk off Charlie while he moves faster, making sure not to miss the spot anymore. It only takes a minute for Charlie to come with a soft sob, and for Sawyer to follow three thrusts later.
Once they're resituated, Sawyer lying on his back with Charlie's head against his chest, the man does something he hasn't done in ages, not since they first got together. His hand slowly moves through the other's hair and he stares up at the tent, while Charlie softly cries. Now that they aren't fucking (it's never been anything more, or anything less, just fucking) anymore, Sawyer can't look at the other because of the bruises along his chest, the scars along his back, the small burns littering his legs. Instead, he just watches the tent top.
Finally he moves the other some and looks into Charlie's eyes. "So. What've you learned today?" he asks, knowing he has to do this every time he hurts the other. He has to make sure Charlie knows that it isn't because he's just drunken a bit too much, or had something bad happen. If it was because of that, he'd make sure Charlie wasn't the one to be hurt.
"To push Jack away when he kisses me," Charlie murmurs a bit tiredly, everything that had happened during the day exhausting him. Then he adds, "And to stay away from Jack if someone else isn't close by?"
A small nod is given and Sawyer grins some, getting a tiny, matching grin from Charlie as he lets the other's head rest on his chest again. "Yep."
It's only three simple words that Charlie says without any prompting that make Sawyer know he's finally won, he's broken the other and he doesn't have to worry. He's heard the stories of Charlie's past, how he's only really cared about one girl - Lucy, if he remembered right - and how Liam fucked him up, how his father hated him playing music but his mother depended on him for it, how messed up the man's head is from it all. He knows that the three simple words show how much Sawyer's taking advantage of him, because Jack wouldn't do this. If someone kissed him while he was with Jack, and he didn't move away but didn't kiss back, Jack would've just been angry or not talked to him for an hour. Those three words show him how fucked up it is. "I love you."
"Know you do," Sawyer murmurs back and closes his eyes. That's the closest he'll ever get, because he has Charlie broken, but if he says more or shows more, he'll risk being broken too.