Pairing: Charlie/Boone/Shannon, hints of Charlie/Liam
Notes: For the fabulous themoononastick's day as queen at lostsquee! I hope you enjoy it, hon! Thanks so much to philomel and zelda_zee for betaing! *smooches*
Warnings: Twice the incest! (Even if one of them is fauxcest.)
Her blonde hair spills out over the dirty floor of the jungle, her head thrown back in abandon, her mouth hanging open, gasping. She just wants to be touched and you just want to touch her.
It’s just the drugs, but you’ll take her any way you can get her.
She doesn’t care about the leaves in her hair or the dirt under her fingernails from where she dug in when you made her come. All she cares about is feeling good right now, this instant. She says yes to everything, everything but you inside her.
The next day she shows up with Boone and, for a second, you think he might offer to blow you, too. Before he can even speak, you’re picturing those reddened lips around your cock, those enormous blue eyes closing and opening as you stroke his hair and you’re just as hard as you were yesterday when she fell to her knees for you.
Then he grins, that smug little rich boy grin, and produces a bag of weed and a few miniature bottles of booze. Now you picture him kneeling in front of Sawyer instead, Sawyer’s hands ruffling that dark hair, Boone’s hands digging into the backs of his thighs and you know just how each one would sound as their moans bleed into each other.
You have to excuse yourself for a minute. When you come back, Boone’s rolled a joint and he and Shannon are giggling like five-year-olds. Boone passes it to you, wincing as he tries to hold in the smoke. It’s a party.
No one cares that you three are out here, day after day, getting high, getting away from it all. No one misses Shannon lying in the sun all day. No one misses Boone trying to be Jack, Jr. No one misses you playing your guitar. Claire and Hurley wouldn’t approve of these little get-togethers, so sod ‘em.
You’re the cool kids. Let the rest of them run around and build shelters and send signals and hunt bloody boar or stare at the ocean like they can see home from here.
You’re having too much fun, the three of you.
They fall against each other, legs tangling up, laughing at some private joke, and you’re back to being the bloody third wheel.
It was just the once then, just to get you to share. You should have said no, you should have set your terms, should be cutting them off now. But you were never good at saying no, never good at refusing anyone.
Go-Along-to-Get-Along Charlie. Sometimes I think you’ll let me do anything to you. He’d say that with a smile and that made it hurt more. Because you never could tell him no. You even smiled when you said yes.
They’re too wrapped up in each other to hear you when you come back from taking a piss. Her skirt is up around her waist, so you can see every movement of his hand, can practically see how wet she is from here. They’re staring into each other’s eyes, their mouths open, mirroring each other. But they’re not kissing. Her hand is on his cock and he’s leaning forward at an awkward angle, like a glass wall is stopping him from getting closer.
“Let me inside you, Shan. Let me come inside you.” Boone’s voice throbs with hurt. He’s begging her, like he must have begged her a hundred times.
“NO. You know why.” She shakes her head slowly, staring him down. He sighs like he’s breaking and just rests his forehead against hers.
Her eyes flutter as she gets close and then she looks straight at you. She sees you. Her mouth falls open but her cry of alarm just means she’s coming.
Boone comes a second later, a loud groan swallowed up in the emptiness of the jungle. He falls against her, burying his face in her chest.
You might as well not exist, except that she’s still staring at you. Her face twists like she might cry and then she drops her head, hiding in his hair.
It’s funny how you already knew.
“He’s not really my brother, OK?” She’s run after you, her panties probably still laying crumpled in the dirt, her skirt barely pushed down. No leaves in her hair today, but she’s wild-eyed, frantic. Her eyes are red, tears threatening to spill over. “We’re not even related. So it’s not what you think.”
You tell her it’s all right, you won’t tell anyone. She bites her finger and she starts to cry anyway, even though she’s nodding like she believes you. You start to tell her, not about Liam, but just all the crazy things you’ve done. All the drugs. Blowing some guy for a hit. Shagging some bird and her mother at the same time. She makes a face and then she starts to laugh.
“Thank you, Charlie,” she says, kind of solemnly and then she takes your face in your hands. She looks at you for a minute with those big brown eyes, reading your thoughts, and then she kisses you, softly. She didn’t even kiss Boone.
She opens her mouth wider, moaning as your tongues meet. Her hands are combing wildly through your hair and you both fall to your knees. She takes your hand and places it between her legs and then she lies back. She nods, chin jutting out a little like she’s scared. “I’m so fucking tired of it. I don’t care what happens. We’re all going to die here anyway,” she cries, her voice breaking. “Please, just fuck me. Just fuck me.”
You’re only too ready. You’ve been hard this whole time. You just need to get your bloody jeans off and then you’re inside her and she’s wrapping those gorgeous long legs around you and pulling you in deeper and she’s saying she doesn’t want to feel empty anymore.
You’re trying to go slow, make it last, savor the feel of her trembling around you, when you should have realized this was stolen time.
“Jesus, Shan, you’re FUCKING him? You’re FUCKING HIM?!!”
Boone is standing a yard off, his hands pulling at his hair. He looks like he might be ill. “What, is this to shut him up?”
“I don’t care. I don’t care anymore,” Shannon sobs, covering her face.
“Shannon, Jesus.” It’s all Boone can say, over and over.
By now, you’ve got your trousers back on and you’re trying to figure out if Boone is going to hit you or hit her or maybe go running off into the forest, never to be seen again.
“I won’t say anything. Honest. And she wanted me to ...”
“Don’t. Just don’t say another word.” The high spots on Boone’s cheeks are a vivid red, but the rest of his face is white.
Shannon goes over to Boone and at first he won’t let her touch him. He cringes as she tries to put her arms around him. “Boone, it’s OK. I’ll let you fuck me. OK? I’ll let you fuck me.”
You should leave, really, you should. But even as she’s talking low in his ear, she’s beckoning to you.
“I’ll let you fuck me if you let Charlie fuck you.”
Your jaw drops and it’s a mirror of Boone’s.
He was almost calm, but now he starts at her words, fists drawn.
“You want to know what it feels like to me, what it feels like to be me,” she says, running her fingers over his arm, standing so they’re thigh to thigh. “You can fuck me in the ass, we can feel it together. I want this Boone. I want you.” She keeps talking into his ear, words meant only for him, threats or promises or both.
His body is tense, like he wants to run, but he doesn't. He starts to sag a little as she talks, as those fingers raise goosebumps on his arms. His eyes close as he listens to her, his lashes improbably long against those high cheekbones and you know he’s going to give in.
Because you’ve been him.
You want to leave, you don’t want to be part of this. Except that you do want it.
Boone’s head drops and he mumbles, “OK.” When he lifts his head, his eyes are dazed and not just from the drugs.
They both just assume you’re going to play along. You move toward them, feeling like you’re walking under water. You think you might be higher now than when you took that hit an hour ago.
Shannon starts to kiss Boone as she lifts up his T-shirt. He raises his arms, surrendering to her touch. Of course this has to be skin to skin. You’re shrugging off your hoodie and your T-shirt in one go and then you reach for Boone’s belt. He looks over his shoulder at you, and puts his hand over yours. You stop as those ice-blue eyes freeze you. Shannon puts one hand on his face and you do the same. He nods and then you’re both helping him off with his jeans. He's the only one who's naked.
His cock is hard, the tip already wet, as he kisses Shannon. His eyes are closed tight as he eases her skirt down her legs and raises her shirt over her head. She’s not wearing a bra or panties. He pulls her to him, hands cupping her ass as they kiss. Her hands run through his hair and he moans a little. You’ve got your shoes and jeans off and you start to stroke yourself, watching them.
Shannon pulls back. “You ready?” she asks breathlessly and they both turn to look at you, heads swiveling in unison. She lies down on her skirt and reaches between her legs with those long, delicate fingers. “God, I’m wet enough for all of us,” she moans.
She rubs the slickness over your cock. You close your eyes and shiver. This is really happening. She slicks her hand over Boone next and she smiles to see how he trembles.
He takes her legs and places them on his shoulders. He dips his fingers into her, smearing the moisture lower. She nods and bites her lip as he thrusts inside her.
Her eyes are shut tight and she’s panting but she waves her hand and tells you, “Wait.” She grips your cock hard, in time with Boone’s thrusts. He moans just like you imagined and you’re not sure you can last. “Now!” she finally says and you move behind Boone. You grab his hip with one hand and your cock with the other and then you’re inside, and god, he’s so tight.
He stops moving with a strangled cry, tensing so hard you think he might break you. “Easy, easy,” you manage to gasp, your touch gentle on his hip. “Breathe. Just breathe.”
He takes a deep breath and starts to move again, as he adjusts to your rhythm. You wish you could see his face. But you can see hers. Her eyes are bright and wide and her mouth is open and she’s panting, matching breaths with Boone. He bends as low to her as he can, until their foreheads are touching again. He’s sliding his fingers into her and rubbing her clit with his thumb and she throws back her head, breaking contact.
“This is what it feels like. This is what it’s like when you fuck me,” she gasps out between breaths, and it’s just for Boone. “Just ... fuck me... fuck me...”
“Yes,” he gasps. “Shan, God.” His breath is ragged and he’s starting to shake. He’s thrusting erratically and then his whole body clenches and he cries out and pulls you over the edge with him. You fall across his bowed back, your chin on his shoulder. He’s still shuddering between you. A line of sweat runs down his back and down your stomach and you both shiver a little.
You take your time disentangling yourselves because now you don’t want to meet each other’s eyes. “I’m just gonna go then,” you say unnecessarily once you’ve got your clothes back on.
You leave them alone, naked and cradling each other.
You should have known better, but when you go out to your regular spot the next day, neither one of them is there. You had some vague idea that this would be a regular thing now, that instead of sneaking out here to get high, you’d sneak out here to fuck each other silly. But of course that’s nonsense.
It’s a bloody small island, but it should be easy enough to avoid them. Pretend nothing happened. You’re all experts at that already.
But when you come back and see Boone standing at the ocean’s edge, tossing stones in, you don’t stay away. You’ve never really seen him alone before.
“Hey,” you say and he glances up and then away quickly.
“I don’t know what else you want,” he says coldly. “If you want to blackmail me for sex every day...”
“No. No. ‘Course not.” You toe the sand. “I just wanted to say ... well, that’s usually me getting fucked.”
He snorts. “Yeah, I’ll bet. “ After a beat, he turns to really look at you. “You mean you’re always getting screwed over or you take it in the ass all the time?”
“Well, bit o’ both, really.”
“Huh.” But, then he starts to laugh. “Well, this time it was me. It’s always me, one way or another.” He gives you a lopsided smile and he looks perilously close to crying.
“Look, I don’t know if ... I mean, if you ever want to, you could ...”
Boone tilts his head, as if he’s not sure he heard you right. “Wait. Are you offering to let me fuck you?”
“Yeah, I am,” you offer up a sheepish smile. “I kind of owe you. And ... well, I wouldn’t mind.”
“So you really like guys?” He hurls another rock, watches until it falls and breaks the surface. “You had a boyfriend?”
You pick up a rock, weigh it in your hand. “Kind of. It was just incredibly fucked-up.”
“Did he love you?”
You grip the rock tight, trying to find the words. “Not enough,” you finally say.
“Yeah.” His voice is brittle, like he’s still holding back tears. “Never enough.”