Good morning - Let's make this week better!
Today is going to be all about resistance. The muse wants - nay needs - Entourage fic. *sigh* Just what the doctor ordered, another fandom, more slashy boys dividing my attention.
BUT OMG the new season rocks! Ari is like *flails* so Ari. And OMG I'm almost (almost but not quite - Do NOT get excited Jules) almost compelled to try my hand at a little E/Ari.
*resists*
*resists hard*
Where are Jack and Sawyer when you need them? WHERE? I don't need funny, materialistic goofy best friends - I need angsty broody boys fighting each other and their own demons.
Or at the very least skinny boys in the city singing and angsting on rooftops.
But anyway - in case you can't tell - I'm back. Almost at full speed. Talk to me!
But read this first ---> If you want another little bit of fluff on Monday morning.
Title: At St. Francis: 4
Fandom: LOST
Pairing: Jack/Sawyer
Disclaimer: The characters of Lost are not mine, I make no money off their fictional corruption.
Summary: Jack gets a clue! And makes a move!
Warning: More Jack POV. ;)
A/N: I'm not that good at silly and fun but if you guys keep wanting it - I'll keep trying. Lost High! continues per elise_509's request. Hope you like babe!
Previous chapters found here --->Part 1 Part 2, Part 3
“Are you out of your bloody mind?” Charlie asks, in complete seriousness, a look of concern marking his elfish features.
As he runs a shaky hand through his bleached spiky hair Jack notices the black of his finger nails and the new letters penned on the tape around the digits.
Last week they said R-O-C-K R-O-L-L. Today they read B-A-C-K J-A-C-K.
Jack doesn’t know why he likes Charlie, why he’s chosen him for a friend and confidante. They have absolutely nothing in common - but Jack has never been one to doubt his instincts. “He’s nice to me.”
“Well sure- he’s nice to everybody - until…”
“Charlie.”
Charlie stops Jack, and his break neck pace down the hallway, by jumping in front of the taller boy, blocking all progress as best he can with just bravado. “Jack - mate - look. You are new, remember that. He’s Lord High Ruler around here, he’s just trying to lure you in.”
Jack knows Charlie’s been at St. Francis a lot longer, knows that while he parties too hard and studies too little he still doesn’t make a point of lying.
He’s still the only kid Jack has met who actually pays attention in morning chapel.
The words he’s saying, the scenario he’s spinning, could very well be true. Amongst all of the differing cliques and social circles Sawyer has respect. Hell - even Boone goes to him for pilfered liquor and smokes.
It’s possible that he’s just using Jack, trying to play nice so he can manipulate him later. “But what do I have that he’d need?”
Charlie blinks at the question, his conspiracy theory apparently not thought out that far.
Jack shrugs because he doesn't know either and there is no sense in worrying about what may just be his imagination. It was just a little pot, Sawyer probably didn't mean a thing by it.
Charlie seems content to let it go for the meantime, thankfully, turning around to open the double doors in front of them to usher Jack inside.
They aren’t late, but most of the students are already seated. Charlie always wants to sit in the front anyway so Jack follows him, taking a seat to the left out of the many that are available.
It’s never surprising that they are the only ones this far up.
Before St. Francis Jack only went to church at Christmas and Easter, when his mother dressed him and his father up and paraded them around like the happy family they weren’t. Like the perfect family they could never be.
Now it’s once a day, first thing in the morning. Charlie singing hymns beautifully beside him, Jack thumbing through the book in his hands not even seeing the words.
It's a monotonous way to spend an hour and Jack has a sneaking suspicion that most of his fellow classmates sleep through it.
Boone and Shannon are in the second to last row, Jack saw the girl putting on her make-up as they passed. When Jack turns around he can see Hurley on the other side, very back row, head in hand lightly snoring.
As Jack's pretending that he's not looking for someone else the current song ends and a new one begins.
The piano changing tempo from something somber to something a little more uplifting.
And when the page of Jack's hymnal flips of its own accord it startles him, causing him to spin around.
He was so lost in thought he didn't see anyone come up beside him. The smile that forms when Jack sees its Sawyer can't be helped.
Sawyer and Eko fall in beside them, the larger boy looking almost as reverent as Charlie. More so at the moment because Charlie’s quit singing, staring openly at Sawyer like he’s seen a ghost or a three headed woman.
This is just another place that Sawyer never seems to be, another rule that Sawyer breaks.
As the priest motions for them to take a seat Jack notices that Sawyer doesn’t pick up the bible in front of him. He seems content to just sit there like he’s waiting for a bus.
“What are you doing here?” Jack whispers when the question becomes too hard to resist.
Charlie kicks Jack’s foot and raises a finger to his lips when Sawyer laughs out loud.
“I had nothin’ better to do. Wanted to see what all the fuss is about? Eko’s never been very good at paintin’ a picture.”
“Do you mind?” Charlie whispers when Jack and Sawyer both ignore him.
“No go right ahead.” Sawyer concedes like Charlie just asked if he could shine his shoes.
Jack offers an apologetic smile, patting Charlie’s knee before turning his attention back fully to Sawyer.
He’s surprised when he sees Sawyer’s eyes hard on his hand, when Sawyer doesn’t cover it up quick enough and Jack finally gets his answer.
So - Sawyer wants him, not for some power play, not to keep control at a school Jack doesn’t even like, and would certainly never want to rule. He likes Jack.
Just like he said.
Jack couldn’t be more thrilled, can’t stop himself from pulling away from Charlie and scooting closer to Sawyer because he likes Sawyer too.
“You want to skip first period?” Jack asks, like he doesn’t know the answer already and is rewarded with a brilliant smile.
Sawyer would probably go right then. Ready, willing, and able for anything - anytime. Well anything non school related that is. Jack has never seen Sawyer with books.
“What did you have in mind?”
Jack has a lot of things in mind, a lot of things he didn’t expect to find when he got kicked out of California and sent to the big bad East.
Adventure, excitement, action. Sawyer and fun, which are definitely one in the same.
--
They aren’t supposed to go back to their rooms between classes, even if they have a free period. But this isn’t about doing what they are supposed to.
Jack unlocks the door and Sawyer steps in, going straight to Jack’s bed like there is a sign hanging over it pointing the way.
Jack’s side of the room is neat and tidy, the way he usually keeps everything. His wild streak does not extend past his hasty desires to permanently alter his body and his relationship with his father.
Hurley’s bed is covered in clothes and candy bar wrappers, books and comics and video games. Cds take up the entire space beneath.
“So you got me here, now what are you gonna do with me?” Sawyer asks blasé, like whatever Jack has in mind is fine with him.
It was never that easy at home, with girls. Girls make everything complicated. Jack likes Sawyer’s ease, Sawyer’s confidence. But it makes him feel a lot younger than he is in comparison.
Because Jack has never done anything like this. Not even when he snuck out of the house and stole the car and went slumming for his tats. Not even when he went out with the guy that gave them to him and got so drunk he can’t even remember how he got home.
That night had been about going with it, letting it happen - NOT making it happen.
Sawyer’s just sitting there waiting again, giving Jack all the time in the world to make up his mind.
Jack feels all of twelve, like a virgin again, when Sawyer licks his lips. Wanting something, not knowing how to take it. The only thing that propels him foreward is his stubborn refusal to back down from a challenge.
He sits down beside Sawyer, mimicking his pose, leaning his back against the wall and letting his head fall to the right, their eyes meeting and holding.
“Am I reading this situation all wrong?” Jack asks, making sure, trying to get Sawyer to make the first move. “Because I- I-“
“Oh shut up Doc - “
Jack doesn’t have time to wonder at the nickname, when Sawyer leans in and kisses him and takes his breath - and ability for higher brain function - away completely.
Sawyer knows what he’s doing, that much is obvious. He has done this before.
Jack doesn’t have the time or the inclination to wonder if Charlie’s right, if maybe that fact means he should be worried.
He’s lost in the moment, head spinning, taking the opportunity and damning the consequences.
BUT OMG the new season rocks! Ari is like *flails* so Ari. And OMG I'm almost (almost but not quite - Do NOT get excited Jules) almost compelled to try my hand at a little E/Ari.
*resists*
*resists hard*
Where are Jack and Sawyer when you need them? WHERE? I don't need funny, materialistic goofy best friends - I need angsty broody boys fighting each other and their own demons.
Or at the very least skinny boys in the city singing and angsting on rooftops.
But anyway - in case you can't tell - I'm back. Almost at full speed. Talk to me!
But read this first ---> If you want another little bit of fluff on Monday morning.
Title: At St. Francis: 4
Fandom: LOST
Pairing: Jack/Sawyer
Disclaimer: The characters of Lost are not mine, I make no money off their fictional corruption.
Summary: Jack gets a clue! And makes a move!
Warning: More Jack POV. ;)
A/N: I'm not that good at silly and fun but if you guys keep wanting it - I'll keep trying. Lost High! continues per elise_509's request. Hope you like babe!
Previous chapters found here --->Part 1 Part 2, Part 3
“Are you out of your bloody mind?” Charlie asks, in complete seriousness, a look of concern marking his elfish features.
As he runs a shaky hand through his bleached spiky hair Jack notices the black of his finger nails and the new letters penned on the tape around the digits.
Last week they said R-O-C-K R-O-L-L. Today they read B-A-C-K J-A-C-K.
Jack doesn’t know why he likes Charlie, why he’s chosen him for a friend and confidante. They have absolutely nothing in common - but Jack has never been one to doubt his instincts. “He’s nice to me.”
“Well sure- he’s nice to everybody - until…”
“Charlie.”
Charlie stops Jack, and his break neck pace down the hallway, by jumping in front of the taller boy, blocking all progress as best he can with just bravado. “Jack - mate - look. You are new, remember that. He’s Lord High Ruler around here, he’s just trying to lure you in.”
Jack knows Charlie’s been at St. Francis a lot longer, knows that while he parties too hard and studies too little he still doesn’t make a point of lying.
He’s still the only kid Jack has met who actually pays attention in morning chapel.
The words he’s saying, the scenario he’s spinning, could very well be true. Amongst all of the differing cliques and social circles Sawyer has respect. Hell - even Boone goes to him for pilfered liquor and smokes.
It’s possible that he’s just using Jack, trying to play nice so he can manipulate him later. “But what do I have that he’d need?”
Charlie blinks at the question, his conspiracy theory apparently not thought out that far.
Jack shrugs because he doesn't know either and there is no sense in worrying about what may just be his imagination. It was just a little pot, Sawyer probably didn't mean a thing by it.
Charlie seems content to let it go for the meantime, thankfully, turning around to open the double doors in front of them to usher Jack inside.
They aren’t late, but most of the students are already seated. Charlie always wants to sit in the front anyway so Jack follows him, taking a seat to the left out of the many that are available.
It’s never surprising that they are the only ones this far up.
Before St. Francis Jack only went to church at Christmas and Easter, when his mother dressed him and his father up and paraded them around like the happy family they weren’t. Like the perfect family they could never be.
Now it’s once a day, first thing in the morning. Charlie singing hymns beautifully beside him, Jack thumbing through the book in his hands not even seeing the words.
It's a monotonous way to spend an hour and Jack has a sneaking suspicion that most of his fellow classmates sleep through it.
Boone and Shannon are in the second to last row, Jack saw the girl putting on her make-up as they passed. When Jack turns around he can see Hurley on the other side, very back row, head in hand lightly snoring.
As Jack's pretending that he's not looking for someone else the current song ends and a new one begins.
The piano changing tempo from something somber to something a little more uplifting.
And when the page of Jack's hymnal flips of its own accord it startles him, causing him to spin around.
He was so lost in thought he didn't see anyone come up beside him. The smile that forms when Jack sees its Sawyer can't be helped.
Sawyer and Eko fall in beside them, the larger boy looking almost as reverent as Charlie. More so at the moment because Charlie’s quit singing, staring openly at Sawyer like he’s seen a ghost or a three headed woman.
This is just another place that Sawyer never seems to be, another rule that Sawyer breaks.
As the priest motions for them to take a seat Jack notices that Sawyer doesn’t pick up the bible in front of him. He seems content to just sit there like he’s waiting for a bus.
“What are you doing here?” Jack whispers when the question becomes too hard to resist.
Charlie kicks Jack’s foot and raises a finger to his lips when Sawyer laughs out loud.
“I had nothin’ better to do. Wanted to see what all the fuss is about? Eko’s never been very good at paintin’ a picture.”
“Do you mind?” Charlie whispers when Jack and Sawyer both ignore him.
“No go right ahead.” Sawyer concedes like Charlie just asked if he could shine his shoes.
Jack offers an apologetic smile, patting Charlie’s knee before turning his attention back fully to Sawyer.
He’s surprised when he sees Sawyer’s eyes hard on his hand, when Sawyer doesn’t cover it up quick enough and Jack finally gets his answer.
So - Sawyer wants him, not for some power play, not to keep control at a school Jack doesn’t even like, and would certainly never want to rule. He likes Jack.
Just like he said.
Jack couldn’t be more thrilled, can’t stop himself from pulling away from Charlie and scooting closer to Sawyer because he likes Sawyer too.
“You want to skip first period?” Jack asks, like he doesn’t know the answer already and is rewarded with a brilliant smile.
Sawyer would probably go right then. Ready, willing, and able for anything - anytime. Well anything non school related that is. Jack has never seen Sawyer with books.
“What did you have in mind?”
Jack has a lot of things in mind, a lot of things he didn’t expect to find when he got kicked out of California and sent to the big bad East.
Adventure, excitement, action. Sawyer and fun, which are definitely one in the same.
--
They aren’t supposed to go back to their rooms between classes, even if they have a free period. But this isn’t about doing what they are supposed to.
Jack unlocks the door and Sawyer steps in, going straight to Jack’s bed like there is a sign hanging over it pointing the way.
Jack’s side of the room is neat and tidy, the way he usually keeps everything. His wild streak does not extend past his hasty desires to permanently alter his body and his relationship with his father.
Hurley’s bed is covered in clothes and candy bar wrappers, books and comics and video games. Cds take up the entire space beneath.
“So you got me here, now what are you gonna do with me?” Sawyer asks blasé, like whatever Jack has in mind is fine with him.
It was never that easy at home, with girls. Girls make everything complicated. Jack likes Sawyer’s ease, Sawyer’s confidence. But it makes him feel a lot younger than he is in comparison.
Because Jack has never done anything like this. Not even when he snuck out of the house and stole the car and went slumming for his tats. Not even when he went out with the guy that gave them to him and got so drunk he can’t even remember how he got home.
That night had been about going with it, letting it happen - NOT making it happen.
Sawyer’s just sitting there waiting again, giving Jack all the time in the world to make up his mind.
Jack feels all of twelve, like a virgin again, when Sawyer licks his lips. Wanting something, not knowing how to take it. The only thing that propels him foreward is his stubborn refusal to back down from a challenge.
He sits down beside Sawyer, mimicking his pose, leaning his back against the wall and letting his head fall to the right, their eyes meeting and holding.
“Am I reading this situation all wrong?” Jack asks, making sure, trying to get Sawyer to make the first move. “Because I- I-“
“Oh shut up Doc - “
Jack doesn’t have time to wonder at the nickname, when Sawyer leans in and kisses him and takes his breath - and ability for higher brain function - away completely.
Sawyer knows what he’s doing, that much is obvious. He has done this before.
Jack doesn’t have the time or the inclination to wonder if Charlie’s right, if maybe that fact means he should be worried.
He’s lost in the moment, head spinning, taking the opportunity and damning the consequences.