fic, Lost. Your Ex-Lover Is Dead (Desmond/Sayid), R, for lostpicksix
Apologizes in advance for the spamming. I have two ficlets for that meme and probably something else later when I'm done with Medieval Philosophy class.
Title: Your Ex-Lover Is Dead
Rating: R
Pairing: Desmond/Sayid (implied Desmond/Penny)
Words: 1694
Summary: Sayid still looks at him, his stare meaning nothing and everything; Desmond doesn’t know what he should do, maybe say strange to see you again, maybe let him go, but he doesn’t want to.
Spoilers: goes AU from 5x06, 316.
Disclaimer: haaa, no, not mine. Yeah, really.
A/N: for tellshannon815 who wanted wish for the alphabet meme and lostpicksix 13, chance encounter. I do realize that if this happened then everything that happened in S5 would be fucked up, but that's exactly why, frankly, I don't give a damn. Title stolen from Stars and yes, everything but a ficlet. *cough*
What Desmond still feels as he makes his way back to the docks, is rage. He can’t believe he went as far as Los Angeles just to deliver a message that apparently didn’t have any kind of use. Not to mention that he also had to see that woman again and sincerely, Desmond could have done without it. He wishes he never told Penny and never decided to go through with Faraday’s request, also because it looks to him like no one wants his life saved here. They’re all bloody suicidal, that’s what they are. That’s what he thinks as he walks; he could stop a taxi, but he needs to move. Maybe he won’t be as angry when he reaches Penny.
He bumps into someone as he walks, and hard; the street is dark, this person was dressed in black and Desmond hadn’t really seen anyone as he strode by.
“Sorry, brother,” he mutters, “it’s been… Sayid?”
Desmond stops dead in his tracks and blinks; it indeed is Sayid in front of him, with his hair half-straightened wearing a leather jacket (leather jacket? Desmond can’t picture him in anything other than a tank top really) and looking at him with an expression that Desmond figures mirrors his own, except that Desmond has a place to go and it’s clear on Sayid’s face that he doesn’t.
“What are you doing here?” they ask at the same time, and any other time it’d be the moment to laugh and clap each other on the shoulder and go to have a drink or maybe two, but they remain deadly serious. Sayid doesn’t look like someone in the mood for a joke and Desmond isn’t either. When Sayid doesn’t say a thing, Desmond looks nervously around and stuffs his hands into the pocket of his jeans.
“I… had this dream. Memory. Or something. Faraday told me that I needed to go warn his mother that if she didn’t help you lot get back to the island everyone there would have died. So it goes and his mother is in here. But it looks like she was helping already.”
“Really?”
“Aye. There were… Jack, Sun and Ben with her.” Desmond doesn’t miss the way Sayid winces as he pronounces Ben’s name. “All discussing the way they should return to the island. I told them they were all nuts and probably bein’ played around and she said the island wasn’t done with me. And then I left ‘cause sure as hell I’m done with it.”
“I cannot really blame you,” Sayid answers softly. “Actually, I should have been there, too. I just left before they even started for the place you found them in, I would guess.”
“They’ll get on some plane tomorrow.”
“Fine for them. I do not want part of any of this anymore.”
Desmond doesn’t miss how weary Sayid’s voice is, how different from the man he came to know on the freighter; it looks like the same person, but it isn’t. And then he remembers about what he had read about his wife some two years ago and how he had tried to send condolences but couldn’t; he thinks about what would happen if he ever lost Penny that way and suddenly he realizes why it looks like at least part of the man in front of him is dead.
Suddenly he remembers one messy night on the freighter which in the morning was called one time thing and just because it happened, but which had been anything but something he hadn’t wanted.
(He’s ashamed to admit it, but it had been three days, Penny wasn’t there, his head still didn’t feel exactly fixed and there were rats nesting in one of their bunks, he can’t remember whose. It happened, and Sayid had been extremely clear on the fact that he wanted it, too.)
And the idea that the person with whom not only he shared a bed, sheets, a couple of handjobs, more than a couple of conversation, at least one session of kissing that will always be there, imprinted on the back of his mind, but who had also practically saved his life and allowed him to be with Penny again (by the way, she knows. He told her two weeks after the rescuing), looking that way, like he’s barely there anymore, is enough to make Desmond shiver and feel sick.
Even if he, well, he has changed too, and he has his skeletons in the closet, and the sheer gratitude he feels in Charlie’s regards still becomes remorse sometimes when he thinks about a piece of paper stuck in between the pages of his brand new copy of Our Mutual Friend. Maybe the person Sayid met on the freighter is changed, too; the one he met for the first time when they fished him out of his boat when he was drunk out of his mind is… well, Desmond doesn’t know. He doesn’t even know if he could ever admit such a thing.
Sayid still looks at him, his stare meaning nothing and everything; Desmond doesn’t know what he should do, maybe say strange to see you again, maybe let him go, but he doesn’t want to. There’s something in Sayid’s stance that doesn’t click, something that tells Desmond that if they part ways now they might as well never see each other again and while guilt eats him up thinking about where he should go now, he takes a step forward.
“What about something to drink?” he asks, his throat dry.
“Shouldn’t you be heading back to your wife?” Sayid asks, and Desmond doesn’t want to know how he knows.
“Well, I… didn’t tell her how long it’d take. I can spare some time.”
Desmond has rarely wished so hard for something as he wishes for Sayid to say yes even if nothing like the freighter can happen and maybe Desmond doesn’t even want to.
“Very well then, let’s have one.”
Desmond doesn’t trust himself answering and just nods. Then he clears his throat and says there had seen a bar further up on the road.
--
It starts with Sayid ordering MacCutcheon and Desmond would laugh, if there was any irony in that; he orders tonic water. He isn’t up for alcohol, and not that brand of everything. There’s this girl with caramel-colored skin who obviously tries to hit on Sayid a couple of times but he doesn’t even look at her; once in a while he looks at Desmond though, and the stare is so intense that Desmond has to hope he isn’t blushing.
It follows up in the restroom, with Sayid’s leather jacket clenched in Desmond’s fingers and Sayid’s hand trailing down his cheek as he says that it’s strange to see him cleanly shaven. Desmond would answer that it’s strange seeing Sayid’s hair straight, but doesn’t do it and instead closes the distance between them, silencing the reproaching voice in the back of his mind and kissing Sayid, trying to do it the same way they did it that night. Sayid’s hair is soft between his fingers, and his tongue warm and his mouth tastes of something that reminds Desmond of every single failure of his life, but it’s the way it has to taste. It couldn’t possibly taste good, not when Desmond has wished to run his tongue along Sayid’s lips for half of this evening, and it’s right. Really. He wouldn’t want it to taste good. It’d make him forget what he’s doing.
It ends with Sayid resting against the door of the tiny toilet, Desmond resting heavily upon him, his hand sticky and barely out of Sayid’s jeans.
“What will you do?” Desmond asks, and he knows what it means, especially because Sayid at one point in between was drunk enough, or loosened enough, to spill everything, and that’s another reason why Desmond should just leave.
He can’t. Not when they both were on that boat and Desmond got a happy ending with his beloved and a beautiful family even when he still had something to be done before really deserving it and Sayid, who really did deserve it, only got his for one year before the utter despair that stands in front of Desmond’s eyes.
“I do not know. He said do whatever you want, but… maybe I should just take that plane.”
“No.” Desmond has an idea that the last thing he should do is boarding Ajira flight 316.
“What, then?”
“Just… I don’t know. Come. For a while. You can also leave next week, whatever you like. Penny won’t mind.”
Sayid looks nothing but plainly shocked. “You surely do not mean it.”
“No, I mean it. Another person for a while would break the monotony. Also, she knows about the freighter, if you were wonderin’.”
“Didn’t you say you two had a son, now?”
“Aye, but there’s still room. ‘Course, this doesn’t happen anymore if you agree.”
“No. But would she know?”
Good question. Desmond surely isn’t proud, here.
“I… maybe I’ll tell her. No, for now. But… just… don’t take that flight, brother.”
Desmond just can’t explain why he feels like none of them should board it, and he knows that he shouldn’t do this, that it’s wrong under every aspect and it’ll probably end up being more of a mess than he’s making it come across, but for some reason it looks like the sanest solution. And he really wishes that…
“If you really are sure and if she agrees with it… I would not think I deserve it, but…”
“That’s it then. Let’s just… clean up.”
They do, and they leave the bar, and Desmond will explain things and doesn’t really think that him and Sayid on a boat again is a really good idea, but he’ll worry about it later. He can’t even name that certain itch he feels that tells him he did something which will have repercussions, and heavy, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t really care, and not caring for once feels not too bad. When Sayid’s shoulder bumps with his by chance, he doesn’t do a thing to put a distance between them.
End.
Title: Your Ex-Lover Is Dead
Rating: R
Pairing: Desmond/Sayid (implied Desmond/Penny)
Words: 1694
Summary: Sayid still looks at him, his stare meaning nothing and everything; Desmond doesn’t know what he should do, maybe say strange to see you again, maybe let him go, but he doesn’t want to.
Spoilers: goes AU from 5x06, 316.
Disclaimer: haaa, no, not mine. Yeah, really.
A/N: for tellshannon815 who wanted wish for the alphabet meme and lostpicksix 13, chance encounter. I do realize that if this happened then everything that happened in S5 would be fucked up, but that's exactly why, frankly, I don't give a damn. Title stolen from Stars and yes, everything but a ficlet. *cough*
What Desmond still feels as he makes his way back to the docks, is rage. He can’t believe he went as far as Los Angeles just to deliver a message that apparently didn’t have any kind of use. Not to mention that he also had to see that woman again and sincerely, Desmond could have done without it. He wishes he never told Penny and never decided to go through with Faraday’s request, also because it looks to him like no one wants his life saved here. They’re all bloody suicidal, that’s what they are. That’s what he thinks as he walks; he could stop a taxi, but he needs to move. Maybe he won’t be as angry when he reaches Penny.
He bumps into someone as he walks, and hard; the street is dark, this person was dressed in black and Desmond hadn’t really seen anyone as he strode by.
“Sorry, brother,” he mutters, “it’s been… Sayid?”
Desmond stops dead in his tracks and blinks; it indeed is Sayid in front of him, with his hair half-straightened wearing a leather jacket (leather jacket? Desmond can’t picture him in anything other than a tank top really) and looking at him with an expression that Desmond figures mirrors his own, except that Desmond has a place to go and it’s clear on Sayid’s face that he doesn’t.
“What are you doing here?” they ask at the same time, and any other time it’d be the moment to laugh and clap each other on the shoulder and go to have a drink or maybe two, but they remain deadly serious. Sayid doesn’t look like someone in the mood for a joke and Desmond isn’t either. When Sayid doesn’t say a thing, Desmond looks nervously around and stuffs his hands into the pocket of his jeans.
“I… had this dream. Memory. Or something. Faraday told me that I needed to go warn his mother that if she didn’t help you lot get back to the island everyone there would have died. So it goes and his mother is in here. But it looks like she was helping already.”
“Really?”
“Aye. There were… Jack, Sun and Ben with her.” Desmond doesn’t miss the way Sayid winces as he pronounces Ben’s name. “All discussing the way they should return to the island. I told them they were all nuts and probably bein’ played around and she said the island wasn’t done with me. And then I left ‘cause sure as hell I’m done with it.”
“I cannot really blame you,” Sayid answers softly. “Actually, I should have been there, too. I just left before they even started for the place you found them in, I would guess.”
“They’ll get on some plane tomorrow.”
“Fine for them. I do not want part of any of this anymore.”
Desmond doesn’t miss how weary Sayid’s voice is, how different from the man he came to know on the freighter; it looks like the same person, but it isn’t. And then he remembers about what he had read about his wife some two years ago and how he had tried to send condolences but couldn’t; he thinks about what would happen if he ever lost Penny that way and suddenly he realizes why it looks like at least part of the man in front of him is dead.
Suddenly he remembers one messy night on the freighter which in the morning was called one time thing and just because it happened, but which had been anything but something he hadn’t wanted.
(He’s ashamed to admit it, but it had been three days, Penny wasn’t there, his head still didn’t feel exactly fixed and there were rats nesting in one of their bunks, he can’t remember whose. It happened, and Sayid had been extremely clear on the fact that he wanted it, too.)
And the idea that the person with whom not only he shared a bed, sheets, a couple of handjobs, more than a couple of conversation, at least one session of kissing that will always be there, imprinted on the back of his mind, but who had also practically saved his life and allowed him to be with Penny again (by the way, she knows. He told her two weeks after the rescuing), looking that way, like he’s barely there anymore, is enough to make Desmond shiver and feel sick.
Even if he, well, he has changed too, and he has his skeletons in the closet, and the sheer gratitude he feels in Charlie’s regards still becomes remorse sometimes when he thinks about a piece of paper stuck in between the pages of his brand new copy of Our Mutual Friend. Maybe the person Sayid met on the freighter is changed, too; the one he met for the first time when they fished him out of his boat when he was drunk out of his mind is… well, Desmond doesn’t know. He doesn’t even know if he could ever admit such a thing.
Sayid still looks at him, his stare meaning nothing and everything; Desmond doesn’t know what he should do, maybe say strange to see you again, maybe let him go, but he doesn’t want to. There’s something in Sayid’s stance that doesn’t click, something that tells Desmond that if they part ways now they might as well never see each other again and while guilt eats him up thinking about where he should go now, he takes a step forward.
“What about something to drink?” he asks, his throat dry.
“Shouldn’t you be heading back to your wife?” Sayid asks, and Desmond doesn’t want to know how he knows.
“Well, I… didn’t tell her how long it’d take. I can spare some time.”
Desmond has rarely wished so hard for something as he wishes for Sayid to say yes even if nothing like the freighter can happen and maybe Desmond doesn’t even want to.
“Very well then, let’s have one.”
Desmond doesn’t trust himself answering and just nods. Then he clears his throat and says there had seen a bar further up on the road.
--
It starts with Sayid ordering MacCutcheon and Desmond would laugh, if there was any irony in that; he orders tonic water. He isn’t up for alcohol, and not that brand of everything. There’s this girl with caramel-colored skin who obviously tries to hit on Sayid a couple of times but he doesn’t even look at her; once in a while he looks at Desmond though, and the stare is so intense that Desmond has to hope he isn’t blushing.
It follows up in the restroom, with Sayid’s leather jacket clenched in Desmond’s fingers and Sayid’s hand trailing down his cheek as he says that it’s strange to see him cleanly shaven. Desmond would answer that it’s strange seeing Sayid’s hair straight, but doesn’t do it and instead closes the distance between them, silencing the reproaching voice in the back of his mind and kissing Sayid, trying to do it the same way they did it that night. Sayid’s hair is soft between his fingers, and his tongue warm and his mouth tastes of something that reminds Desmond of every single failure of his life, but it’s the way it has to taste. It couldn’t possibly taste good, not when Desmond has wished to run his tongue along Sayid’s lips for half of this evening, and it’s right. Really. He wouldn’t want it to taste good. It’d make him forget what he’s doing.
It ends with Sayid resting against the door of the tiny toilet, Desmond resting heavily upon him, his hand sticky and barely out of Sayid’s jeans.
“What will you do?” Desmond asks, and he knows what it means, especially because Sayid at one point in between was drunk enough, or loosened enough, to spill everything, and that’s another reason why Desmond should just leave.
He can’t. Not when they both were on that boat and Desmond got a happy ending with his beloved and a beautiful family even when he still had something to be done before really deserving it and Sayid, who really did deserve it, only got his for one year before the utter despair that stands in front of Desmond’s eyes.
“I do not know. He said do whatever you want, but… maybe I should just take that plane.”
“No.” Desmond has an idea that the last thing he should do is boarding Ajira flight 316.
“What, then?”
“Just… I don’t know. Come. For a while. You can also leave next week, whatever you like. Penny won’t mind.”
Sayid looks nothing but plainly shocked. “You surely do not mean it.”
“No, I mean it. Another person for a while would break the monotony. Also, she knows about the freighter, if you were wonderin’.”
“Didn’t you say you two had a son, now?”
“Aye, but there’s still room. ‘Course, this doesn’t happen anymore if you agree.”
“No. But would she know?”
Good question. Desmond surely isn’t proud, here.
“I… maybe I’ll tell her. No, for now. But… just… don’t take that flight, brother.”
Desmond just can’t explain why he feels like none of them should board it, and he knows that he shouldn’t do this, that it’s wrong under every aspect and it’ll probably end up being more of a mess than he’s making it come across, but for some reason it looks like the sanest solution. And he really wishes that…
“If you really are sure and if she agrees with it… I would not think I deserve it, but…”
“That’s it then. Let’s just… clean up.”
They do, and they leave the bar, and Desmond will explain things and doesn’t really think that him and Sayid on a boat again is a really good idea, but he’ll worry about it later. He can’t even name that certain itch he feels that tells him he did something which will have repercussions, and heavy, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t really care, and not caring for once feels not too bad. When Sayid’s shoulder bumps with his by chance, he doesn’t do a thing to put a distance between them.
End.