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In This Mess of Flesh (Five Ways Claire Forgets)
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100_situations yet again. Part of what I’m calling the names and curses verse. Two more stories in this verse can be found here and here.
Title: In This Mess of Flesh (Five Ways that Claire Forgets)
Fandom: LOST
Characters: Claire, Jack, Sawyer
Table: table-5
Prompt: Cliff, Music, Want, Treatment, Film
Word Count: (177, 185, 156, 118, 183) 819 TOTAL
Rating: NC-17 for sex & language
Summary: She can never hold on tight enough, not even in her dreams. She hears him from her tent one night. She wishes it were the both of them. This is her cure. One morning, she wakes up first.
Author's Notes: Thank you so much to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kmousie for the beta and for the wonderful encouragement! ♥!
Warnings: Jawyercita, Jawyer, ConMama
Feedback: Pretty please? *grovels* ConCrit Welcome!
Verse: Names & Curses
1.
She can never hold on tight enough, not even in her dreams.
Aaron drowns at sea and it is Jack who picks up the pieces. This is after Charlie – bullet to the head, vengeance for a man named Ethan – and before they know the truth, that the same blood runs through their veins. This will always be the moment that defines everything before and since.
How can they lose so carelessly?
They’re high up on the rocks. It’s afternoon, not even raining, hasn’t for days, and suddenly that thing is coming. She doesn’t know then that it can go only so far. She kisses his forehead, doesn’t think to say goodbye or even I love you, and jumps, with him in her arms, but it isn’t tight enough.
It’s never tight enough, not even in her dreams.
Those first nights afterwards, it rains – a week, maybe more – and he just holds her. She feels so small in his big arms under that tarp, so small she could almost disappear. And maybe… maybe that’s exactly what she wants.
2.
She hears him from his tent one night.
She knows he doesn’t mean to, but he stops coming to her after they learn the truth. The ones they call the others, they seem to get some kind of satisfaction out of this, disrupting lives and loves, and all the things that they keep hidden.
And now he won’t meet her eyes, won’t touch her, and pushes her away when she finds her way into his tent at night, crushing her lips so desperately to his. He tells her he needs time, it isn’t healthy, and says How can we explain this?
She tells him she doesn’t care, that no one knows and even if they did, so be it. She’s lost everything, can’t she just have him?
She’s long known who else Jack shares his nights with. (There aren’t a lot of secrets left on this island.) She hears him singing from his tent one night while she lies in hers. It’s soft and comforting, and she works her hand between her legs, comes to the sound of Sawyer’s song. And for now, it’s enough.
3.
She wishes it was the both of them.
In the first house, he avoids her, despite his promise not to. It’s not as though she hasn’t touched him since they’ve known. But in this house, he feels it too domestic, too dysfunctional, too sinful.
This is the real world now.
She understands. She feels it too, misses the musty ground of the jungle and the waves, crashing as she comes, his hands digging into her thighs.
Nights, she hears them, Sawyer sneaking into his room, soft moans, the sounds of their collision, names and curses. These expensive, heavy walls aren’t much use for keeping the noise out if you can’t manage to keep a door closed.
Over breakfast, she tells him with her eyes that she’s tired of just listening in. He waits for Sawyer to leave, fucks her on the kitchen counter, calls her name, and it’s almost like before. She doesn’t tell him then she wishes it was the both of them.
4.
This is her cure.
The first few nights, they’re gentle with her; after that, they don’t bother. Everyone’s always seen her as such a fragile thing, but not them.
This is their shared experience. This is why no one else will ever know her fully. They fell from the sky together (and that is really just the beginning) and lived to tell the tale. Only they don’t tell it, because there is no happy ending here.
Not even in these nights spent together, intertwined, limbs and hands and mouths, moving together in some kind of fucked up harmony. And in this mess of flesh is the place where she finds her peace, as unlikely as it may seem.
This is her cure.
5.
One morning, she wakes up first.
One morning, she wakes up first, slips out of bed and snaps a photograph, the instant film ejecting noisily, her place beside them empty as they spoon. They don’t wake, they don’t stir, just slumber on.
Maybe it’s to remember them by, in case they ever decide to leave her, but she knows they won’t. No, they’ll leave that up to her. She can see it when they look at her, knows she’ll never let them go.
She puts the photo away, half-developed, hides it in a pocket, and slips back into bed. Her place is still warm, and Sawyer’s hands immediately find her, curling around her stomach, his lips brushing her neck.
Some weeks are easier than others, richer than others, poorer than others. And the thought makes her laugh, makes her think of wedding vows. But it also rings of truth. She closes her eyes, sinks back further into Sawyer’s arms, Jack’s hand brushing her thigh, and feels safer than she has since before the crash. And it is at this moment that she knows.
She is going to be okay.
100_situations yet again. Part of what I’m calling the names and curses verse. Two more stories in this verse can be found here and here. Title: In This Mess of Flesh (Five Ways that Claire Forgets)
Fandom: LOST
Characters: Claire, Jack, Sawyer
Table: table-5
Prompt: Cliff, Music, Want, Treatment, Film
Word Count: (177, 185, 156, 118, 183) 819 TOTAL
Rating: NC-17 for sex & language
Summary: She can never hold on tight enough, not even in her dreams. She hears him from her tent one night. She wishes it were the both of them. This is her cure. One morning, she wakes up first.
Author's Notes: Thank you so much to
kmousie for the beta and for the wonderful encouragement! ♥! Warnings: Jawyercita, Jawyer, ConMama
Feedback: Pretty please? *grovels* ConCrit Welcome!
Verse: Names & Curses
She can never hold on tight enough, not even in her dreams.
Aaron drowns at sea and it is Jack who picks up the pieces. This is after Charlie – bullet to the head, vengeance for a man named Ethan – and before they know the truth, that the same blood runs through their veins. This will always be the moment that defines everything before and since.
How can they lose so carelessly?
They’re high up on the rocks. It’s afternoon, not even raining, hasn’t for days, and suddenly that thing is coming. She doesn’t know then that it can go only so far. She kisses his forehead, doesn’t think to say goodbye or even I love you, and jumps, with him in her arms, but it isn’t tight enough.
It’s never tight enough, not even in her dreams.
Those first nights afterwards, it rains – a week, maybe more – and he just holds her. She feels so small in his big arms under that tarp, so small she could almost disappear. And maybe… maybe that’s exactly what she wants.
She hears him from his tent one night.
She knows he doesn’t mean to, but he stops coming to her after they learn the truth. The ones they call the others, they seem to get some kind of satisfaction out of this, disrupting lives and loves, and all the things that they keep hidden.
And now he won’t meet her eyes, won’t touch her, and pushes her away when she finds her way into his tent at night, crushing her lips so desperately to his. He tells her he needs time, it isn’t healthy, and says How can we explain this?
She tells him she doesn’t care, that no one knows and even if they did, so be it. She’s lost everything, can’t she just have him?
She’s long known who else Jack shares his nights with. (There aren’t a lot of secrets left on this island.) She hears him singing from his tent one night while she lies in hers. It’s soft and comforting, and she works her hand between her legs, comes to the sound of Sawyer’s song. And for now, it’s enough.
She wishes it was the both of them.
In the first house, he avoids her, despite his promise not to. It’s not as though she hasn’t touched him since they’ve known. But in this house, he feels it too domestic, too dysfunctional, too sinful.
This is the real world now.
She understands. She feels it too, misses the musty ground of the jungle and the waves, crashing as she comes, his hands digging into her thighs.
Nights, she hears them, Sawyer sneaking into his room, soft moans, the sounds of their collision, names and curses. These expensive, heavy walls aren’t much use for keeping the noise out if you can’t manage to keep a door closed.
Over breakfast, she tells him with her eyes that she’s tired of just listening in. He waits for Sawyer to leave, fucks her on the kitchen counter, calls her name, and it’s almost like before. She doesn’t tell him then she wishes it was the both of them.
This is her cure.
The first few nights, they’re gentle with her; after that, they don’t bother. Everyone’s always seen her as such a fragile thing, but not them.
This is their shared experience. This is why no one else will ever know her fully. They fell from the sky together (and that is really just the beginning) and lived to tell the tale. Only they don’t tell it, because there is no happy ending here.
Not even in these nights spent together, intertwined, limbs and hands and mouths, moving together in some kind of fucked up harmony. And in this mess of flesh is the place where she finds her peace, as unlikely as it may seem.
This is her cure.
One morning, she wakes up first.
One morning, she wakes up first, slips out of bed and snaps a photograph, the instant film ejecting noisily, her place beside them empty as they spoon. They don’t wake, they don’t stir, just slumber on.
Maybe it’s to remember them by, in case they ever decide to leave her, but she knows they won’t. No, they’ll leave that up to her. She can see it when they look at her, knows she’ll never let them go.
She puts the photo away, half-developed, hides it in a pocket, and slips back into bed. Her place is still warm, and Sawyer’s hands immediately find her, curling around her stomach, his lips brushing her neck.
Some weeks are easier than others, richer than others, poorer than others. And the thought makes her laugh, makes her think of wedding vows. But it also rings of truth. She closes her eyes, sinks back further into Sawyer’s arms, Jack’s hand brushing her thigh, and feels safer than she has since before the crash. And it is at this moment that she knows.
She is going to be okay.
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LOVE YOU!
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And did I mention how hot this is? Because, seriously. Yum.
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I may do more with this series, or come at Jawyercita from another angle. I'm loving it though! Truly!
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Thank you for writing and posting!!
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Eventually I may return to my roots and do the long thing. But for now I'm having fun with this!
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I really like this, and it's not dark ENOUGH for ME! Bwahahaha. And you can just come to England and sit my English exams for me k? :D
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Elle! You're reading my Jawyercita! *blushes* Hee. But as long as you're reading, go read the other two parts.
I'll try to make it darker for you next time LOL.
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I love.this.fic. Actually I love all your Jawyercita fics, they are simply magical!
This Claire one just kills me so many different ways!
Way #1 : You do angst like no other. I know this one isn't as dark as a whole as some of the other ones, but there are lots of awesome parts that are...
She kisses his forehead, doesn’t think to say goodbye or even I love you, and jumps, with him in her arms, but it isn’t tight enough.
Love it!
Way #2 : Umm the smut? *dies*. The part about Claire doing..umm..stuff..while listening to Sawyer's song. Wow, jsut guh!
Way #3: Who can do angst AND fluff?! KC can! KC can!
The last one..about the picture. Is just soo adorable. And she knows she's going to be okay. Happy endings, I love it! :) I love YOU!
This comment box isnt' nearly big enough to contain all the things i'd like to say about this fic, so I just kept it short and sweet lol
More jawyercita please! With a cherry on top!
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*is evil*
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This will always be the moment that defines everything before and since.
Perfect!
Nights, she hears them, Sawyer sneaking into his room, soft moans, the sounds of their collision, names and curses. These expensive, heavy walls aren’t much use for keeping the noise out if you can’t manage to keep a door closed.
Pure pleasure to read such a thing. And the way you've described them living together... I'm totally buying it!
Please, keep writing!
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I'm not gonna lie...I'm loving this crack pairing(s)
Can i add you?
<3
Very good *goes to find the other stories*
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i lokimikoj
(Anonymous) 2007-09-22 07:30 am (UTC)(link)I'm really impressed!
Re: i lokimikoj
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