halfdutch (halfdutch) wrote,
halfdutch
halfdutch

Scar Tissue (Sawyer/Sayid) R

Title: Scar Tissue
Pairing: Sawyer/Sayid
Rating: R
Summary: Scars are memories
Note: For zelda_zee who asked for Sawyer and Sayid. You could say this has a happy ending as well. :) Mild spoilers up through "The Brig."



Their scars from the island have long since healed.

They sit naked on the bed, Sawyer’s arms around Sayid, his head resting on Sayid’s shoulder as his fingers play over the scar that brought them together, the line where the bullet tore through Sayid’s arm.

The skin is lighter there, a stark contrast to the dark cocoa color of the rest of Sayid’s body. The skin is also slightly more sensitive, just as it is on Sawyer’s own shoulder, a puckering of the flesh the only sign of the fever that nearly killed him. Sayid’s wound was never life-threatening, but Sawyer bears another scar that was nearly the death of him, the one Sayid gave him. Neither of them say anything when Sayid brushes his fingers over the place on Sawyer’s upper right arm where his knife went in, so many years ago now, but Sawyer shivers, as if remembering.

Jack was the one who stitched Sawyer up that day. He was the one who nursed Sawyer through the fever that followed the gunshot wound. Sayid had no part in saving Sawyer those times, but he had never expected to turn to Sawyer, instead of Jack, to consider him his ally when Jack brought the enemy into their camp.

Sayid hadn’t gone to Jack when his wound started to trouble him, but to Sawyer. The Russian had already sewn up the injury he'd caused, but it needed cleaning and dressing and Sawyer was the most likely to have hydrogen peroxide.

He found Sawyer alone in his tent, bent over his bare feet. He frowned when Sayid entered and tried to hide the sorry state of the soles of his feet, but Sayid had already seen how battered and bleeding they were.

“’s what I get for goin’ on a hike barefoot, like an idiot” Sawyer muttered with a wry laugh.

Sayid did not press him for an explanation. Anyone could tell something had been off about Sawyer these last few days, that he was even more moody and distant than usual. It was none of Sayid’s business, of course. He’d assumed it was Jack’s strange behavior, which was preying on his own mind.

Sawyer did not demand anything in return for the hydrogen peroxide, just distractedly handed it over. It wasn’t until Sayid softly swore as he tried to change the dressing himself that Sawyer seemed to notice he was still there. He gruffly took the bandage from Sayid and saw to it himself, surprisingly as sure and deft as Jack. Sayid nodded in approval when he was done.

“Perhaps I can help with your feet,” he offered. “You must be in a great deal of pain.”

Sawyer shrugged, reaching for a half-empty bottle next to him. “Best painkiller I know,” he pronounced, downing a good portion of what was left of the whiskey

Sayid still isn’t sure exactly how it happened, how a light touch on Sawyer’s arm turned into a kiss, the alcohol from Sawyer’s mouth burning Sayid’s lips, the rush surely responsible for his boldly reaching for Sawyer’s zipper.

He wanted more, wanted to taste all of Sawyer and Sawyer offered no resistance when Sayid pulled down his jeans. Sawyer’s mouth was parted, his eyes bright with excitement as he laid back.

Sayid had made him bleed and now he was going to make him come. Sawyer tasted like salt and sweat and he bucked and moaned when he came, spurting hot and wet into Sayid’s mouth, his hands tangled deep in Sayid’s hair.

Sayid stayed with hiim as he dropped off to sleep. He watched his handsome face slack in sleep, watched Sawyer’s body twitch as a bad dream fell over him. Sayid kept watch over him that night and every night since.

He still didn’t know what was in Sawyer’s nightmares, didn’t know the story behind his bruised and bleeding feet. They had healed, leaving no trace of any trauma. He could have pushed Sawyer for answers if he'd wanted; not all of his skills as an interrogator were brutal ones, but Sayid understands that maybe he can love Sawyer best by letting his past be.

The scars on their flesh are white but they still hide their darkest scars from each other.

When he looks in Sawyer’s eyes, he sees something he never thought he’d see there, not just desire, but trust. Forgiveness. That is what he thinks of when he touches the scars on Sawyer’s body. What Sawyer thinks of, he does not ask.

Tags: lost_fic, sawyer/sayid
Subscribe
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

  • 11 comments