Fic: Nicotine Stained Papers

This is kind of short (1700 words). I really just wanted to experiment with the Sawyer/Sayid pairing, and well, actually writing Sawyer.

Title: Nicotine Stained Papers
Pairing: Sawyer/Sayid, Charlie/Sayid
Rating: I'd say a hard R, but it borders on NC-17
Disclaimer: So not mine
Summary: Sawyer's never needed anyone but himself.
Note: cross posted to ficinabottle
Archive: A World Away



~*~

He's still holding the apple when Sayid finds him, the sun long since vanishing into the depths of the ocean and the only light on the beach are the dozens of tiny bonfires dotting the horizon. He doesn't say anything, his words carefully guarded as Sayid perches next to him on the log.

For a moment, he doesn't think Sayid's going to speak, his eyes locked out over the waves they can't see. Sawyer can hear them, though, crashing against the rocks, beating out an endless rhythm that's older than time itself. But then Sayid shifts, turning until his profile becomes visible in the light and Sawyer steals himself for the accusations he's sure are to come.

"I don't think I could have done it," Sayid says, his tone neutral, but something close to respect flashes in his eyes and Sawyer releases a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Technically, I didn't," he replies, and he doesn't mean for his words to carry the biting tone of sarcasm, but they do.

"But you did," Sayid counters, nodding his head like the matter is settled.

Sawyer doesn't respond.

~*~

His hand shakes as he lights a half finished cigarette. He's been cutting back, smoking only half before stubbing it out on the sole of his boot, saving the rest for later. It's the only way to ensure they'll last, however long it is they need to. He's not even certain that's enough, because he heard the transmission on the mountain side and sixteen years is a long time.

The others are still sorting through luggage, gathering supplies and he watches Sayid from across the beach. Sayid's a natural leader, Sawyer will give him that, but he's still not certain how much he trusts the other man. He's not certain how much he trusts anyone, but it hardly matters; he only needs to look out for himself.

He sees Sayid glance over his shoulder, his hand still buried to the wrist in someone's bag. Faster then Sawyer thought possible, he tucks something into his pocket before turning back to his sorting. It seems, somewhere deep down inside, they're all the same and Sawyer finds himself smiling.

~*~

Charlie follows Sayid everywhere, except when he's hitting on Shannon. Sawyer wants to tell him not to bother, that her brother will never stand for it, but he doesn't like to think about that fucked up scenario for too long, so he holds his tongue. It bothers him, though, watching Charlie hovering at Sayid's side and, for the life of him, he can't figure out why.

He can feel it, though, some unnamed emotion flickering across his consciousness until he can't think for it. He feels like a voyeur, watching the two of them from his place at the tree line and trying to pretend like he isn't staring. They don't look up, though, and when Charlie says something, earning Sayid's nod before disappearing back into one of the makeshift shelters, Sawyer can't help but feel just a little bit glad.

~*~

He finds Sayid sitting alone, the light of the fire casting shadows across his face. He doesn't comment as he sits cross-legged next to him, staring into the flames and trying not to ask questions he doesn't have words for. He can feel Sayid's eyes, staring at his profile until the heat of his gaze far surpasses the flames of the fire.

Something lands by his feet and it takes him a moment to process that it came from Sayid. He doesn't pause before reaching forward, wrapping long, scarred fingers around a carton of cigarettes before turning to offer Sayid a questioning look.

"I found them, in one of the suitcases," Sayid explains, and Sawyer flashes back to that morning.

"Thanks," he replies, tearing open the package and pulling out one of the packs.

He offers one to Sayid, but Sayid shakes his head, turning to glance back at the fire, so Sawyer shrugs and lights one.

~*~

He hates this place.

Hates everything about it, but mostly, he hates the lack of privacy. He's tried several times to find a secluded corner to jerk off, but every time he does, one of the others interrupts him. He's starting to think he's never going to come again.

It's frustrating, annoying in a way that leaves him permanently tense and when he hears Sayid call his name, he doesn't bother stopping. He knows Sayid's watching, his face expressionless as Sawyer comes against the backdrop of leaves, milky white staining vibrant green.

"Coming," he says, zipping his jeans and laughing.

~*~

Sayid's built some kind of power booster. Something that might actual be strong enough to overpower the signal already running. They won't know until they try, though, which means heading back up the mountain side and Sawyer's not certain how he feels about that. He volunteers anyway, mostly to give him something to do. Sayid nods his welcome before turning back to the others and waiting for their response.

Jack's preoccupied with Charlie, easing him off whatever drug he had in his system, so Sawyer knows he won't join them on the trip. There aren't many others who can handle the climb, and after the last time, he knows Boone and Shannon won't be accompanying them. It leaves him and Kate, but Kate's been acting strange since the Marshall's death, so he's not surprised when she doesn't volunteer. In the end, it comes down to just the two of them.

He doesn't even really mind, and while he can't explain it, he almost looks forward to traipsing up the mountain alone with Sayid.

~*~

The damn transmission is still blocking their signal, cutting through it regardless of what they try and Sawyer knows the only way they'll get anything out is to find the original signal and shut it down. He almost suggests doing just that, but he knows the others are expecting them, and besides, Sayid's already heading back toward the beach, so Sawyer's left with little choice but to follow.

They haven't spoken much, but then again, they rarely speak under normal circumstances so Sawyer's not really expecting anything. It's not until they're sitting around the fire at their makeshift came, the same location they used the last time, that Sayid finally says something.

"You know, those will kill you."

Sawyer shakes his head, inhaling a little deeper and relishing the way the smoke curls around his lungs, nicotine rushing into his bloodstream until his entire body is humming. He's starting to understand Charlie's drug addiction.

"Trust me, that's the last of my worries," he replies, exhaling a cloud of smoke, watching it drift out and vanish into the darkness beyond the firelight.

~*~

Sayid snores, softly, but Sawyer can't sleep for the sound. It doesn't help that Sayid's pressed against him, sharing warmth and it's been far too long since Sawyer was this close with anyone. It makes him want things he knows he shouldn't want, and he curses his body's reaction to the presence of another body.

Before he can move, Sayid shifts, bringing them even closer and Sawyer tenses as Sayid's eyes blink open. He can see the reflection of the moon in their depths, shining like the fire that's long since died and Sawyer doesn't think before leaning forward, pressing their lips together and taking everything he's always denied himself.

It doesn't surprise him when Sayid's tongue slides into his mouth.

~*~

They haven't talked about it, but Sawyer remembers. It still makes him flush with shame, anger coiling in the pit of his stomach every time he recalls the feel of Sayid's hands sliding across his body. It doesn't stop him from picturing those hands whenever he does manage to find a secluded place to masturbate. Doesn't stop him remembering the way Sayid's fingers curled around his cock or the even the breathless moan Sayid gave when Sawyer finally managed to bring him to orgasm. It only makes the situation worse, and every time it happens, he promises himself it's the last time.

~*~

Sayid's been spending a lot of time with Charlie lately. He knows it's only because Charlie's still going through the last stages of withdrawal and needs a support system, but it bothers him all the same. He sees the way they interact, the looks that pass between them and he can't help but wonder if they're fucking. Probably, and when Sayid drapes an arm around Charlie's shoulder, Sawyer's hand clenches, involuntarily crushing the unlit cigarette between his fingers.

He curses, tossing the wrecked smoke into the sand before pulling a fresh one out of his pack. He's long since given up smoking half; most of the time one isn't even enough. His Zippo is running out of fluid, and he knows it's only a matter of time before he has to start lighting his smokes off the fire. They keep it constantly burning now, the supply of matches running low and the supply of trees boundless. It almost makes him consider giving up smoking.

He wonders if Sayid would support him through that withdrawal.

~*~

There's no letter this time.

No tearful words of apology or regret and Sawyer doesn't know why he was expecting anything, because, technically, they didn't have anything to begin with. It doesn't ease the hurt of finding them together, Charlie's legs thrown over Sayid's shoulder as they moved together, sweat running down the line of Sayid's back.

They didn't see him, but Sawyer's not certain he'd care if they did. He tells himself it's better this way, because the last thing he needs is a complicated relationship in this place. He's already stinging from the last one and he exhales a plume of smoke before digging into his pocket, retrieving the letter from his ex-wife before crumpling it in his fist and tossing it into the fire.

Besides, he only needs to look out for himself. He's fairly certain, one of these days, he's actually going to start believing that.

Fin.