Outlaws
Title: Outlaws
Author: cielo_claro
Rating: soft R
Pairing: Sawyer/Charlie, mentions of Charlie/Claire and the Jack/Kate/Sawyer triangle.
Summary: Outlaws have to stick together, even if it's only temporary.
Disclaimer: Lost is property of ABC. I am in no way claiming ownership of any characters involved. I intend to receive no monetary benefit from this work and intend no copyright infringement.
Notes: For toestastegood at the lostsquee Luau, who requested Charlie and likes non-canon pairings. I also totally doubled dipped on this one and used a prompt from truism100, #53. people who go crazy are too sensitive. Set during Charlie and Sawyer's temporary partnership in Season 2.
Also, toestastegood, this really probably isn't what you wanted, but this is where my brain went...
Outlaws
Twang, twang, twang, twaaaang.
"Would you cut that out, Cobain? Tryin' to fuckin' read here."
"You're not suppose to read in dim lighting, it's bad for your eyes."
"And you're not suppose to read with massive, annoyance induced headaches either."
"Oh, so I'm an annoyance now?"
"When did you ever get the impression that you weren't?"
Charlie sighed, sending Sawyer a look that clearly read fine, you win as he roughly shoved his guitar back into its case. Normally, he and Claire would've been putting Aaron down for the night, an occasionally arduous process that involved a whole lot of rocking and humming and just about every lullaby Charlie had ever learned and a few he'd made up on the fly. And though he was sure Claire was perfectly capable of putting Aaron to sleep herself, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something he was suppose to be doing right then. And sitting around playing lone ranger with Sawyer definitely wasn't it.
"Cheer up, kid,"Sawyer said, his eyes never leaving the page he was on, "things'll pick back up sooner or later, and you and Mamacita will go back to playing house like nothing ever happened."
"That so, Sawyer?" Charlie replied with obvious disinterest.
"Look, I told you, this plan is gonna fix a lot of stuff. What do you think Mama Bear is gonna do when she finds out Island Town is under attack? She's gonna run right back into the arms of Papa Bear, that's what."
Charlie looked up, it was the first time such a thought had occurred to him, "What about Locke? And the rest of the A-Team?"
"They'll get put in their place," Sawyer assured him, pausing to lick a finger with which to turn the page, "The Doc and Captain Island are too busy at each others throats to see what's right in front of their eyes, nobody'll suspect a thing."
"You're sure?"
Sawyer peered over at him at last, raising an eyebrow, "I'm sure, Sid Vicious. A con man knows how to con, all you gotta do is play your part and everything'll fall into place. You wanna pinky promise or something?"
"No, I... it's fine, Sawyer. I'll do it."
"Good." Sawyer nodded, turning his attention back to Watership Down, though not without having the last word: "I don't see what you're so worked up over anyways, it's not like anything was going on there anyhow."
"What?"
He looked up again to see Charlie's stare boring deep into his skull. A twitch of a smirk played across Sawyer's lips as he spoke, "Unless I'm mistaken, you still haven't gotten any island nookie."
"What's that got to do with anything?" Charlie's fists inadvertently clenched at his sides, sifting handfuls of sand. The memory of Claire's rejection rang sharp in his mind, her sweet voice twisted with anger. And before he could run it by his brain, his mouth was already blurting out: "It's not like Kate's hopping on your crotch these days."
Now it was Sawyer's turn to send an intimidating glare across the fire, and his jaw became visibly clenched. "Don't talk about what you don't know nothing about, Charlie." His voice hit a warning tone, which Charlie purposefully chose to ignore.
"Right, I don't know anything about how Kate and Jack went golfing just a couple of days ago and-" Before he could finish his thought, however, Sawyer had rounded the fire between them, and was suddenly towering over him, a tight fist around the collar of Charlie's shirt.
For a long moment, they both froze in time. Sawyer red faced, gripping Charlie's front with a death force, and Charlie, stoic and limp against Sawyer's pull.
"I'm going to give you a clue here, Chuckie," Sawyer's voice was low when he finally spoke, and his words were carefully measured in both choice and pace, "right now, the happy residents of Island Town are all a twitter because they think you're some kind of crazy baby snatcher. I am the closest thing to a friend you've got. You wanna piss me off, fine, but you're gonna have to find yourself another island if you do."
His hold released, and Charlie fell back against the sand. He knew Sawyer was right, and he also knew he had no business picking fights if Sawyer was letting him camp by him and take part in what he had referred to as "the long con." It was his only chance of redeeming himself to Claire, and Sawyer was the one providing it.
"Sad, isn't it?" Charlie spoke to his feet, "Even Hurley won't have anything to do with me."
He could hear Sawyer give a bit of a sigh, and then plop down by his side, though Charlie would not meet his eyes. "I told you, compadre, if everything goes according to plan you'll be able to move back into the suburbs in no time."
"Well, it's just..." Charlie bit his lip and gave Sawyer a sideways glance. It seemed like Sawyer was being genuine, but it was hard to tell whether or not his sincereity was just a fleeting fluke, or if Charlie had somehow managed to actually peel back a layer of Sawyer's though skin. But he saw no sarcasm or judgment in his eyes, and so Charlie hesitantly proceeded, "I mean, I don't want to lose what we have. Her and me and Aaron, I think we could make a right good family. I sort of always wanted to have a family."
Sawyer seemed to consider this, as he leaned back and nodded with pursed lips. Charlie was just grateful he hadn't managed to make another embarrassing nickname for himself with his admission.
"You know what your problem is? You're too sensitive."
"Sensitive?" Charlie furrowed his eyebrows at that. While certain he'd written his far share of ballads and had taken an understandable shining to Aaron right from the get go, he could not separate that part of himself from the many mornings he had woken up to not one but two (or more) nameless women and a massive Jack Daniels hangover. He was a former rock star, burn out or not, and sensitivity was simply a non-issue.
"Well for one, you go a big softy when that baby is involved. And for two, you're taking all of this personal. Maybe it's not about you, in fact, better to assume it's not about you because that way you never lose."
"Well, yeah, but..."
"Sensitivity makes a man go crazy," Sawyer continued, "best to just... live above it all."
"You mean, not to to give a damn?"
Sawyer showed a hint of a smile, nodding with satisfaction, "That's right, kid."
As Sawyer had promised, the plan went off without a hitch. The guns and medicine were his now, thanks to Charlie, Locke had been made a proper fool of, and Sawyer had landed himself right back on everybody's most hated list, and for whatever reason, Sawyer seemed just fine with that.
"Looks like this is it, compadre," Sawyer remarked over a bottle of whiskey, the last of his once extensive stash, hidden in a separate part of his tent. Where, Charlie didn't bother to ask, already knowing Sawyer wasn't going to divulge the information after his previous absence had left him robbed.
"What'd'ya mean?" Charlie questioned, taking a long, greedy swig from the bottle, which they had nearly drained as it was. The warm of the whiskey felt good in his stomach, burying the guilt which had brewed deep in his gut all day.
"Pretty soon," Sawyer paused to suppress a hiccup, "everything'll smooth over and you won't be an outlaw no more."
"Yeah, yeah, I reckon so." A smile crossed Charlie's lips at the thought of Claire's welcoming smile. "I've miss her quite a bit, I have to say."
"Course you do, she's your girl!" Sawyer chuckled, throwing an arm around Charlie's shoulders as he did. This was a new side of Sawyer, entirely separate from his early sincereity, and Charlie couldn't say he'd ever seen it before. All drunk and friendly, he seemed to be reveling in the survivors' rediscovered disdain for him, Kate's rejection aside. Charlie wasn't about to complain, though, as having a conversation sans sarcasm and personal digs was treating him just fine.
"What about you, mate? What're you going to do with all the guns and the medicine?"
"People need them, they'll get them, they just have to come to me first."
"But what does that accomplish? You're just doing what Locke and Jack did, only now they can't play Cowboys and Indians without your permission."
"Charlie..." Sawyer sighed, shifting his gaze towards a distant palm tree, "Fifty days ago, give or take, nobody woulda ransacked my tent. Not you, not Jack, not Hugo. People forget who I am, what I've done... it's a matter of respect, that's all."
"But, respect isn't fear and fear isn't respect, pissing people off isn't..." Charlie shook his head, realizing he was too far gone to follow his own train of thought, "Doesn't matter."
They settled into a silence, the alcohol now gone, and the mood effectively killed for the both of them. In that moment, lacking in that constant stream of burning warmth, Charlie could feel his gut already starting to turn, guilt beginning to bubble up, and Jin's devastated face flashed before his eyes, and Sun's terrified screams echoing in his ears. The mental fuzz that had seemed pleasant before turned sickly, as Charlie recalled how Sun had often watched Aaron for them, and how Jin had risked his own life on the raft for all of them. Truthfully, he felt quite nauseous, though an inkling in the back of his mind told him the pain was not simply physical.
"I hurt her." The words seemed to once again bypass his brain and travel straight to his tongue, "I hurt Sun. What kind of man am I?"
"Had to happen," Sawyer relented, though Charlie could see from the frown working its way to the corners of his mouth that he didn't believe a word of what he was saying, "Captain Island and the rest of them, things were getting out of hand..."
"But what if she had died? What if I had killed her?"
"Hey, kid, relax-"
"I can't relax, Sawyer, do you even realize what we did? All the people we could've hurt?"
"Jesus Christ, Charlie!" Sawyer exclaimed, turning to grip Charlie's shoulders forcefully, demanding eye contact between the two of them, "Nothing happened, okay? Everything went off without a hitch, nothing happened."
"I can't do this, Sawyer, I can't-" A sob escaped his throat, and Charlie realized he had begun to cry. Tears had already spilled down his cheeks, wetting the front of his shirt, and he was pretty sure Sawyer was none too impressed that a bottle of whiskey was all it took to turn him into a blubbering idiot.
"Charlie, just take a breath and remember that-" Remember what, Charlie wasn't concerned. His hands, out of what seemed to be their own accord, had come to cup either side of Sawyer's face, and his own lips, out of their own accord as well, came forward to crush their mouths together.
It was a clumsy, bruising kiss, with clashing teeth and an accompanying struggle for power, but it was a sort of kiss not unfamiliar to either of them. And to Charlie's surprise, it was fairly easy to part Sawyer's lips and explore the whiskey flavored cavern of his mouth. In fact, if he wasn't mistaken, Sawyer seemed to be actively kissing back.
Sawyer's stubble was rough against his skin, but his touch was even rougher, his hand had wrapped itself around the back of Charlie's head, holding him firmly in place and pressing them closer to demand more with each passing moment. Their noses knocked and squished against each other uncomfortably, and Charlie's hands fumbled awkwardly with where to hold and grip on a foreign, broad torso, but form was not of concern, and Charlie was more than thankful to at least have that going for him.
"Charlie," Sawyer breathed into his mouth, pulling away as much as their hold on each other allowed, "what are you doing?"
"Don't," Charlie warned, his fingers trailing down from where they had dug hard into Sawyer's shoulder blades, a light, tickling touch now that fell to Sawyer's lap, his intention made obvious.
"Charlie-"
"Don't, Sawyer!" He snapped, giving Sawyer's zipper a rough tug before attacking the button of his pants. For once, Sawyer stayed silent.
He found Sawyer's dick, half hard already, and immediately set about to stroking the organ to full attention, which was surprisingly easy, all things considered. But then again, Charlie supposed, a dick was a dick, and Sawyer's couldn't be that different from his own, could it?
Sawyer writhed under him, and though he was oddly silent, Charlie took his cue from Sawyer's quickened breath, and kept his rhythm steady and his grip firm. Pre-cum was soon leaking from his slit, and Sawyer's eyes fluttered closed as his hips bucked and thrusted with an enthusiasm that Charlie couldn't help but appreciate.
So it was natural then, when Charlie's hand began to cramp and his arm tire, that he wrap his lips around Sawyer's head, and allow his tongue to lap uncertainly at the underside of the other man's cock.
"Teeth," Sawyer panted, the first word he had spoken since Charlie had first shushed him, "teeth."
Charlie remedied that quickly, licking down the length of Sawyer's dick, his technique becoming more and more sure as he went. He returned to the head then, rubbing his thumb across it's swollen tip and smearing the pre-cum which had gathered with surprising speed. All of this caused Sawyer to twitch and spasm in what seemed to be involuntary reactions throughout his body.
"Been a while?" Charlie asked with a bit of a laugh in his tone, though Sawyer gave no response.
He was close now, Charlie was sure. As such, he decided it probably wouldn't hurt to give the sucking another go, and gently lowered his lips around Sawyer, this time careful to mind his teeth. A few well timed swallows and the swirl of his tongue around his slit proved to be all Sawyer needed, and a hot, salty gob of cum was suddenly building in his mouth. The taste was foreign, though not as unpleasant as he might've suspected, had he been thinking at all, and he swallowed with surprising ease.
After Charlie had lowered Sawyer's now flaccid dick from his mouth there was an awkward moment of silence, in which the only sound to be heard was Sawyer's returning breath, following by the quick zip of a zipper.
"Do you... are you...?" Sawyer's expression was difficult to read in the dying light of the fire, but Charlie knew what he meant and only shook his head.
"Should get to sleep then, you know, hatch duty tomorrow and everything." This was a lie, of course, and Charlie was well aware. He decided to let it be, however, and proceeded to make his bed in solemn silence, turning his back to Sawyer as he did, before sending a quick "sorry" God's way and putting his worries to rest. In the morning he would start anew, move his tent away from Sawyer's, and hopefully, find a way to earn Claire's forgiveness.
Author: cielo_claro
Rating: soft R
Pairing: Sawyer/Charlie, mentions of Charlie/Claire and the Jack/Kate/Sawyer triangle.
Summary: Outlaws have to stick together, even if it's only temporary.
Disclaimer: Lost is property of ABC. I am in no way claiming ownership of any characters involved. I intend to receive no monetary benefit from this work and intend no copyright infringement.
Notes: For toestastegood at the lostsquee Luau, who requested Charlie and likes non-canon pairings. I also totally doubled dipped on this one and used a prompt from truism100, #53. people who go crazy are too sensitive. Set during Charlie and Sawyer's temporary partnership in Season 2.
Also, toestastegood, this really probably isn't what you wanted, but this is where my brain went...
Outlaws
Twang, twang, twang, twaaaang.
"Would you cut that out, Cobain? Tryin' to fuckin' read here."
"You're not suppose to read in dim lighting, it's bad for your eyes."
"And you're not suppose to read with massive, annoyance induced headaches either."
"Oh, so I'm an annoyance now?"
"When did you ever get the impression that you weren't?"
Charlie sighed, sending Sawyer a look that clearly read fine, you win as he roughly shoved his guitar back into its case. Normally, he and Claire would've been putting Aaron down for the night, an occasionally arduous process that involved a whole lot of rocking and humming and just about every lullaby Charlie had ever learned and a few he'd made up on the fly. And though he was sure Claire was perfectly capable of putting Aaron to sleep herself, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something he was suppose to be doing right then. And sitting around playing lone ranger with Sawyer definitely wasn't it.
"Cheer up, kid,"Sawyer said, his eyes never leaving the page he was on, "things'll pick back up sooner or later, and you and Mamacita will go back to playing house like nothing ever happened."
"That so, Sawyer?" Charlie replied with obvious disinterest.
"Look, I told you, this plan is gonna fix a lot of stuff. What do you think Mama Bear is gonna do when she finds out Island Town is under attack? She's gonna run right back into the arms of Papa Bear, that's what."
Charlie looked up, it was the first time such a thought had occurred to him, "What about Locke? And the rest of the A-Team?"
"They'll get put in their place," Sawyer assured him, pausing to lick a finger with which to turn the page, "The Doc and Captain Island are too busy at each others throats to see what's right in front of their eyes, nobody'll suspect a thing."
"You're sure?"
Sawyer peered over at him at last, raising an eyebrow, "I'm sure, Sid Vicious. A con man knows how to con, all you gotta do is play your part and everything'll fall into place. You wanna pinky promise or something?"
"No, I... it's fine, Sawyer. I'll do it."
"Good." Sawyer nodded, turning his attention back to Watership Down, though not without having the last word: "I don't see what you're so worked up over anyways, it's not like anything was going on there anyhow."
"What?"
He looked up again to see Charlie's stare boring deep into his skull. A twitch of a smirk played across Sawyer's lips as he spoke, "Unless I'm mistaken, you still haven't gotten any island nookie."
"What's that got to do with anything?" Charlie's fists inadvertently clenched at his sides, sifting handfuls of sand. The memory of Claire's rejection rang sharp in his mind, her sweet voice twisted with anger. And before he could run it by his brain, his mouth was already blurting out: "It's not like Kate's hopping on your crotch these days."
Now it was Sawyer's turn to send an intimidating glare across the fire, and his jaw became visibly clenched. "Don't talk about what you don't know nothing about, Charlie." His voice hit a warning tone, which Charlie purposefully chose to ignore.
"Right, I don't know anything about how Kate and Jack went golfing just a couple of days ago and-" Before he could finish his thought, however, Sawyer had rounded the fire between them, and was suddenly towering over him, a tight fist around the collar of Charlie's shirt.
For a long moment, they both froze in time. Sawyer red faced, gripping Charlie's front with a death force, and Charlie, stoic and limp against Sawyer's pull.
"I'm going to give you a clue here, Chuckie," Sawyer's voice was low when he finally spoke, and his words were carefully measured in both choice and pace, "right now, the happy residents of Island Town are all a twitter because they think you're some kind of crazy baby snatcher. I am the closest thing to a friend you've got. You wanna piss me off, fine, but you're gonna have to find yourself another island if you do."
His hold released, and Charlie fell back against the sand. He knew Sawyer was right, and he also knew he had no business picking fights if Sawyer was letting him camp by him and take part in what he had referred to as "the long con." It was his only chance of redeeming himself to Claire, and Sawyer was the one providing it.
"Sad, isn't it?" Charlie spoke to his feet, "Even Hurley won't have anything to do with me."
He could hear Sawyer give a bit of a sigh, and then plop down by his side, though Charlie would not meet his eyes. "I told you, compadre, if everything goes according to plan you'll be able to move back into the suburbs in no time."
"Well, it's just..." Charlie bit his lip and gave Sawyer a sideways glance. It seemed like Sawyer was being genuine, but it was hard to tell whether or not his sincereity was just a fleeting fluke, or if Charlie had somehow managed to actually peel back a layer of Sawyer's though skin. But he saw no sarcasm or judgment in his eyes, and so Charlie hesitantly proceeded, "I mean, I don't want to lose what we have. Her and me and Aaron, I think we could make a right good family. I sort of always wanted to have a family."
Sawyer seemed to consider this, as he leaned back and nodded with pursed lips. Charlie was just grateful he hadn't managed to make another embarrassing nickname for himself with his admission.
"You know what your problem is? You're too sensitive."
"Sensitive?" Charlie furrowed his eyebrows at that. While certain he'd written his far share of ballads and had taken an understandable shining to Aaron right from the get go, he could not separate that part of himself from the many mornings he had woken up to not one but two (or more) nameless women and a massive Jack Daniels hangover. He was a former rock star, burn out or not, and sensitivity was simply a non-issue.
"Well for one, you go a big softy when that baby is involved. And for two, you're taking all of this personal. Maybe it's not about you, in fact, better to assume it's not about you because that way you never lose."
"Well, yeah, but..."
"Sensitivity makes a man go crazy," Sawyer continued, "best to just... live above it all."
"You mean, not to to give a damn?"
Sawyer showed a hint of a smile, nodding with satisfaction, "That's right, kid."
As Sawyer had promised, the plan went off without a hitch. The guns and medicine were his now, thanks to Charlie, Locke had been made a proper fool of, and Sawyer had landed himself right back on everybody's most hated list, and for whatever reason, Sawyer seemed just fine with that.
"Looks like this is it, compadre," Sawyer remarked over a bottle of whiskey, the last of his once extensive stash, hidden in a separate part of his tent. Where, Charlie didn't bother to ask, already knowing Sawyer wasn't going to divulge the information after his previous absence had left him robbed.
"What'd'ya mean?" Charlie questioned, taking a long, greedy swig from the bottle, which they had nearly drained as it was. The warm of the whiskey felt good in his stomach, burying the guilt which had brewed deep in his gut all day.
"Pretty soon," Sawyer paused to suppress a hiccup, "everything'll smooth over and you won't be an outlaw no more."
"Yeah, yeah, I reckon so." A smile crossed Charlie's lips at the thought of Claire's welcoming smile. "I've miss her quite a bit, I have to say."
"Course you do, she's your girl!" Sawyer chuckled, throwing an arm around Charlie's shoulders as he did. This was a new side of Sawyer, entirely separate from his early sincereity, and Charlie couldn't say he'd ever seen it before. All drunk and friendly, he seemed to be reveling in the survivors' rediscovered disdain for him, Kate's rejection aside. Charlie wasn't about to complain, though, as having a conversation sans sarcasm and personal digs was treating him just fine.
"What about you, mate? What're you going to do with all the guns and the medicine?"
"People need them, they'll get them, they just have to come to me first."
"But what does that accomplish? You're just doing what Locke and Jack did, only now they can't play Cowboys and Indians without your permission."
"Charlie..." Sawyer sighed, shifting his gaze towards a distant palm tree, "Fifty days ago, give or take, nobody woulda ransacked my tent. Not you, not Jack, not Hugo. People forget who I am, what I've done... it's a matter of respect, that's all."
"But, respect isn't fear and fear isn't respect, pissing people off isn't..." Charlie shook his head, realizing he was too far gone to follow his own train of thought, "Doesn't matter."
They settled into a silence, the alcohol now gone, and the mood effectively killed for the both of them. In that moment, lacking in that constant stream of burning warmth, Charlie could feel his gut already starting to turn, guilt beginning to bubble up, and Jin's devastated face flashed before his eyes, and Sun's terrified screams echoing in his ears. The mental fuzz that had seemed pleasant before turned sickly, as Charlie recalled how Sun had often watched Aaron for them, and how Jin had risked his own life on the raft for all of them. Truthfully, he felt quite nauseous, though an inkling in the back of his mind told him the pain was not simply physical.
"I hurt her." The words seemed to once again bypass his brain and travel straight to his tongue, "I hurt Sun. What kind of man am I?"
"Had to happen," Sawyer relented, though Charlie could see from the frown working its way to the corners of his mouth that he didn't believe a word of what he was saying, "Captain Island and the rest of them, things were getting out of hand..."
"But what if she had died? What if I had killed her?"
"Hey, kid, relax-"
"I can't relax, Sawyer, do you even realize what we did? All the people we could've hurt?"
"Jesus Christ, Charlie!" Sawyer exclaimed, turning to grip Charlie's shoulders forcefully, demanding eye contact between the two of them, "Nothing happened, okay? Everything went off without a hitch, nothing happened."
"I can't do this, Sawyer, I can't-" A sob escaped his throat, and Charlie realized he had begun to cry. Tears had already spilled down his cheeks, wetting the front of his shirt, and he was pretty sure Sawyer was none too impressed that a bottle of whiskey was all it took to turn him into a blubbering idiot.
"Charlie, just take a breath and remember that-" Remember what, Charlie wasn't concerned. His hands, out of what seemed to be their own accord, had come to cup either side of Sawyer's face, and his own lips, out of their own accord as well, came forward to crush their mouths together.
It was a clumsy, bruising kiss, with clashing teeth and an accompanying struggle for power, but it was a sort of kiss not unfamiliar to either of them. And to Charlie's surprise, it was fairly easy to part Sawyer's lips and explore the whiskey flavored cavern of his mouth. In fact, if he wasn't mistaken, Sawyer seemed to be actively kissing back.
Sawyer's stubble was rough against his skin, but his touch was even rougher, his hand had wrapped itself around the back of Charlie's head, holding him firmly in place and pressing them closer to demand more with each passing moment. Their noses knocked and squished against each other uncomfortably, and Charlie's hands fumbled awkwardly with where to hold and grip on a foreign, broad torso, but form was not of concern, and Charlie was more than thankful to at least have that going for him.
"Charlie," Sawyer breathed into his mouth, pulling away as much as their hold on each other allowed, "what are you doing?"
"Don't," Charlie warned, his fingers trailing down from where they had dug hard into Sawyer's shoulder blades, a light, tickling touch now that fell to Sawyer's lap, his intention made obvious.
"Charlie-"
"Don't, Sawyer!" He snapped, giving Sawyer's zipper a rough tug before attacking the button of his pants. For once, Sawyer stayed silent.
He found Sawyer's dick, half hard already, and immediately set about to stroking the organ to full attention, which was surprisingly easy, all things considered. But then again, Charlie supposed, a dick was a dick, and Sawyer's couldn't be that different from his own, could it?
Sawyer writhed under him, and though he was oddly silent, Charlie took his cue from Sawyer's quickened breath, and kept his rhythm steady and his grip firm. Pre-cum was soon leaking from his slit, and Sawyer's eyes fluttered closed as his hips bucked and thrusted with an enthusiasm that Charlie couldn't help but appreciate.
So it was natural then, when Charlie's hand began to cramp and his arm tire, that he wrap his lips around Sawyer's head, and allow his tongue to lap uncertainly at the underside of the other man's cock.
"Teeth," Sawyer panted, the first word he had spoken since Charlie had first shushed him, "teeth."
Charlie remedied that quickly, licking down the length of Sawyer's dick, his technique becoming more and more sure as he went. He returned to the head then, rubbing his thumb across it's swollen tip and smearing the pre-cum which had gathered with surprising speed. All of this caused Sawyer to twitch and spasm in what seemed to be involuntary reactions throughout his body.
"Been a while?" Charlie asked with a bit of a laugh in his tone, though Sawyer gave no response.
He was close now, Charlie was sure. As such, he decided it probably wouldn't hurt to give the sucking another go, and gently lowered his lips around Sawyer, this time careful to mind his teeth. A few well timed swallows and the swirl of his tongue around his slit proved to be all Sawyer needed, and a hot, salty gob of cum was suddenly building in his mouth. The taste was foreign, though not as unpleasant as he might've suspected, had he been thinking at all, and he swallowed with surprising ease.
After Charlie had lowered Sawyer's now flaccid dick from his mouth there was an awkward moment of silence, in which the only sound to be heard was Sawyer's returning breath, following by the quick zip of a zipper.
"Do you... are you...?" Sawyer's expression was difficult to read in the dying light of the fire, but Charlie knew what he meant and only shook his head.
"Should get to sleep then, you know, hatch duty tomorrow and everything." This was a lie, of course, and Charlie was well aware. He decided to let it be, however, and proceeded to make his bed in solemn silence, turning his back to Sawyer as he did, before sending a quick "sorry" God's way and putting his worries to rest. In the morning he would start anew, move his tent away from Sawyer's, and hopefully, find a way to earn Claire's forgiveness.