halfdutch (halfdutch) wrote,

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Creature Comfort (Kate/Sawyer fic NC-17)

Title: Creature Comfort
Summary: Half missing scene from "Homecoming," half super smutty Skate smut. Inspired by this promo photo of a scene with Kate and Sawyer (and their guns!) that was not in the episode when "Homecoming" aired.
Rating: NC-17
Note: For foxxcub -- thanks for the title and for convincing me to write het again! (Not exclusively, of course! Still on the J/S slash train. ;->)

Kate was cold and exhausted. She sat shivering in her tent, too tired to wipe the mud off that probably covered her from head to toe. She was soaking wet, but finding dry clothes was just too much of an effort.

It seemed like they had waited for Ethan for hours -- probably because of the cold, relentless rain -- but it was more likely less than one hour.

She should have been thinking about Ethan -- who he was, what he was up to, whether he was alone. Or why Charlie did what he did. Or even Jack, who was the hero of the day for getting the better of Ethan in a fight.

But she couldn’t stop thinking about Sawyer. How he had trusted her to give her a gun when Jack wouldn’t. How he’d kept catching her eye during the stakeout, that look of grim determination softening when he’d glance in her direction.

When she’d seen Ethan, she’d run straight for him, but he had simply backhanded her. He’d hit her so hard, he knocked her breath out. She was on her back, mud in her eyes, just wildly aiming the gun. She’d been terrified. Then she’d heard Sawyer say, “Kate!” and he was there with her, grabbing her arm to let her know it was all right. She’d jumped when he touched her, even though she’d already registered it was him and not Ethan.

He wiped the mud out of her eyes, or tried to. His hands were as muddy as hers, but somehow her vision cleared and she saw his face, the concern on it clear even through all the rain streaming down it.

He steadied her and helped her up, even though she could tell he was spoiling to be in the fight. He’d missed all the action, let Jack take all the glory. She and Sawyer had come running to join the others, but everything was all over. Ethan lay on the ground, beaten.

Like the rest of them, she had her gun drawn, but somehow she found herself looking at Sawyer, not at Ethan. Sawyer’s expression as he aimed his 9mm at Ethan’s head was all business. She imagined that’s the look he’d had when he stood his ground against that polar bear so many weeks ago.

She remembered holding her breath, waiting to see if Ethan would try anything, but he didn’t get the chance. She’d jumped when she heard the shots. They all had. Seeing Ethan lying dead in the mud, all their questions dying unanswered with him, was like being punched in the stomach. The adrenaline that had been pumping through her evaporated. She could see the rest of them, even Claire, slump in disappointment.

There wasn’t anything left to be said as they walked back to camp. Locke and Jack walked with Claire. Charlie walked stiffly on his own. Sayid, Kate, and Sawyer trailed behind, wet, muddy, and thoroughly discouraged.

Jack had gone off to see to Claire or talk to Charlie. Shannon had come running up to greet Sayid and noted with concern the cut on his arm. So they were a couple, Kate thought. Good for them.

But it made her wish ... No. She stopped herself from making wishes she couldn’t have. She didn’t glance over at Sawyer, didn’t see if he went back to his tent or not, as she headed for hers.

Alone in her tent, she listened to the rain falling on the tarp over her head. Kate realized she was still shaking, not just from being soaked to her skin, but from the letdown. She almost felt like crying and that was just not like her. More than anything, she wanted a hot shower, to just let all the mud and disappointment swirl away down the drain.

“Knock, knock.” She looked up to see Sawyer holding back a tent flap. His hair was still dripping rain and his wet clothes clung to every inch of his frame, she couldn’t help but notice. His gun was tucked into the waistband of his jeans. “I thought maybe Miss Misery might like some company,” he said with something bordering on a grin.

She nodded and realized company was exactly what she needed. He stepped inside, and suddenly, her tent didn’t seem quite as cold.

“I was just wishing for a hot shower. Or a bath,” she sighed.

“Sadly, that is just the kind of creature comfort this island is sorely lacking,” he said, with a stab at being his usual jaunty self. He vigorously shook some of the water out of his hair, looking for all the world like a half-drowned mutt. It made her smile.

He sat down across from her and his face grew serious. “Kate. Are you OK?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said, crinkling her forehead and giving him a half smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Gee, I don’t know. Big scary showdown. Shots fired. All that mud.” He was smiling, but his eyes were still serious. “You got hit,” he added, the slightest tremor in his voice.

She nodded again, but he saw it when she shivered.

“Anyone ever tell you you’d catch your death if you sit around in wet clothes?” he asked, still with that grin that was already making her feel warmer.

She bobbed her head, and suddenly she didn’t trust herself to talk. Damn it, she was on the verge of tears in front of Sawyer. When did he start being the kind of guy to watch her so intently and actually care about what she felt?

She dared to meet his eyes, finding it impossible to look away once she did. She knew he was interested in her. She wasn’t an idiot. He’d made that clear several times. She never knew how serious he was, if it was all just a game to get under her skin, the same way he liked to provoke Jack and everyone else with those damn nicknames and cocky grins.

But today had been about something else. He trusted her. More than Jack ever had. He’d cared more about her welfare than catching Ethan.

She could feel the air between them change, feel the tension build. She leaned forward and realized their knees were touching. Her hands were on her thighs and he gently put his hands on top of hers. She shivered again, her legs trembling.

Warmth came off him in waves. Suddenly, the rest of her felt that much colder, as if his touch was siphoning off the rest of her body heat.

He was breathing faster and she could see his pulse throbbing at his neck. She stared at it, fascinated, because she knew the moment she looked away, the moment she met his eyes again, he would know how much she wanted him right now.

“You’re a mess,” he said, and she realized with a start how awful she must look. He brushed her neck, wiping away a patch of mud. She swallowed. His fingers ghosted over her cheek. A bruise was starting to form where Ethan had hit her. Sawyer’s face knit in a frown as he saw it. His hand and his gaze moved up to her forehead, where he smoothed away another smear of dirt.

She caught his wrist, holding his hand in place, and met his eyes at last.

“Kate,” he breathed, his eyes somehow bluer in the dim light. He didn’t need to say anything else. She leaned in, her lips brushing his. A jolt went through her as his tongue darted into her mouth. She tasted mud and knew he did too. Neither one of them cared.

She was embarrassed at the needy sounding half-moan that escaped her. He took it as an encouragement, pulling her to him and nearly crushing her against his chest.

She felt the gun poking her in the abdomen. He must have realized it, too, because he reached into his jeans and took the gun out, setting it aside. He smiled crookedly and then pulled her to him again.

He slipped one hand under the wet tank top that was practically glued to her skin. His touch was electric, so impossibly, deliciously warm.

She dug her fingers into his upper arms, feeling how muscular he had become in these last few weeks. Somehow, she hadn’t noticed how chiseled he was now until she’d seen him pointing that gun like it was an extension of his arm.

His knee was between her legs, rubbing against the seam of her jeans. If she wasn’t wet already ... she thought with a shiver, as his hand stole inside her bra. He cupped her breast gently. A little too gently.

“You won’t break me,” she breathed, her voice strangely husky to her own ears. “I can take you.”

He uttered a low moan and grabbed her to him roughly, his hand closing harder on her breast. Her head fell back and his tongue and teeth worried at her neck. He stopped to spit. “Muddy,” he said, with a grin.

“I’m sorry I’m so dirty,” she said with a wicked smile as she stripped off her shirt.

“I”m not,” he said, flashing his dimples as he took in her almost-bare torso with approval. He ran his hands over her back, unhooking her bra almost as an afterthought. He slid the bra straps down each shoulder slowly, keeping his eyes on hers until the bra was completely off.

She held her breath, surprised how nervous she was to be topless in front of Sawyer. Maybe it was because he took the time to admire her before he touched her again. She certainly hadn’t expected it of him. But his restraint only lasted so long before he cupped her breasts again, taking one nipple in his mouth.

She inhaled sharply, feeling the sensation of his tongue travel through her. She held his head in place, willing him not to stop. He carefully moved to the other breast and she trembled as he teased her other nipple into hardness.

He raised his head, gazing into her eyes as if he were waiting for her permission to go further. She nodded to let him know it was what she wanted. He was what she wanted.

The look of desire he gave her as he laid her down on her bed and lowered himself on top of her made her throb. There was no hesitation now as they fumbled with each other’s jeans. The denim clung to each of them like a second skin and they alternately laughed and cursed until they managed to get both pairs off. Sawyer, she noted with a smile, wore no underwear. He worked her panties down her legs, and she kicked them to the floor impatiently.

Their eyes locked as he positioned himself to enter her. As he pushed inside, she had to break the spell and close her eyes. She had to concentrate on how he felt, how right he felt inside her. She easily adjusted to his rhythm, knowing she was driving him as crazy as he was driving her.

As their bodies heated he increased his pace, pulling out of her almost completely only to slam into her all the harder. She bit her lip, trying to stifle moans that might be overheard from a nearby tent. And then she stopped caring and just gave herself up to him, let herself think that nothing existed beyond the two of them, nothing but his body pounding into her.

She was losing control and she knew he knew it. He pulled out of her and told her to get up. She did and he grabbed her by the waist and turned her around so that she was now on all fours. He held her firmly by the hips and reentered her.

She gasped at how deep he was now, at the intensity as he thrusts got harder and harder. Her legs were shaking by the time he came with a long drawn-out groan.

She drew herself up, rubbing her back against his chest. He was still inside her and she put a hand there to keep him in. She laid her head back against his shoulder and started working her hand in circles around her clit.

“C’mon,” he whispered in her ear as he put one hand over hers and one on her breast, pinching a nipple between his fingers. It didn’t take long for her to come, flushed and panting and shaky. She let him slip out and turned to kiss him. They fell over as they kissed, their hands roaming, clasping over the other’s body, still not having gotten enough of each other.

Finally, they were both still, the exhaustion of the day catching up with them. He ran his fingers through her hair as they lay curled together.

“I wanted to thank you,” she said softly.

“For this?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.

She laughed. “Well, it was very nice. No, I meant for earlier. For coming to help me. And for giving me your gun.”

“My pleasure for all the above, sweetheart.” His face grew serious. “And I could thank you for letting me use your gun.”

My gun?” she asked, not understanding him.

“The guns came from the suitcase, right? Your suitcase.”

She pulled away from him, alarm spreading across her face. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t need to pretend with me, Kate. I guessed your big secret a long time ago.”

She reacted as if he’d hit her, the hurt and anger plain on her face.

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna ask you a bunch of idiot questions. Not my style.”

“You knew and you never said anything?” she asked, shocked. She let it sink in some more. “You knew and you trusted me with a gun?”

“Figured you’d know what you were doing,” he said, wrapping a lock of her hair around his finger. “Look, I don’t care about what you did.”

She continued to stare at him, not sure what to say. Her head spun. “Sawyer,” she said finally, not wanting to meet his gaze. “I’ve done some horrible things.”

“So have I,” he said, forcing her chin up to meet his steely blue eyes. He kissed her on the forehead and pulled her closer to him.

She lay there long after he fell asleep, wondering why he would care about her now that he knew. And there was still so much more he didn't know.
Tags: lost_fic, lost_fic_s1, sawyer/kate

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