“Fraser, you’re hogging again,” Ray muttered, not for the first time.

Nor even for the tenth, or the hundredth, and really, it was beginning to tax what little patience Fraser still possessed.

“Ray,” Fraser said, barely concealing his exasperation, “I assure you I am not doing it on purpose, and for that matter, have my doubts as to what it is I am ‘hogging’.”

“The covers, Frase, the covers,” Ray grumbled, kicking out one foot. That Fraser did not grunt when it made solid contact with his shin was purely providential.

“Ray,” Fraser said, and truly, was he to be blamed for the tight, pinched quality to his voice? Three weeks into this adventure with Ray, who clearly – despite his adamant and enthusiastic proclamation of ‘Let’s go get us a hand, Fraser!’ – was a poor bedmate. Fraser was ready to turn back in order that Ray might once again have entire rooms full of beds at his disposal.

“In case you are unaware,” Fraser started again, as Ray shifted beside him, “we are in a sleeping bag.”

“Yeah, Fraser, I’m aware of that, thanks,” Ray sneered, kicking out once again with his foot.

“Ray, please!” Fraser exclaimed, twisting his arm down to rub his leg. “As I was saying, we are sharing a sleeping bag, as we agreed upon, in order to conserve body heat, and though I apologize for your delicate sensibilities regarding your sleeping habits, when two men are sharing a sleeping bag – ”

“Delicate sensibi – don’t give me that, Fraser. What I’m sayin’ is you’re hoggin’ the bag and I’m cold and I’m uncomfortable and every time you breath, I can feel it on my neck.”

Fraser folded his hands over his chest. “Such close proximity requires a little allowance,” he said slowly, “and I would think you would be able to sacrifice for a buddy, partner, or any of the various other epithets you have chosen to bestow upon our relationship.”

“Yeah, well I’m gonna bestow something else if you keep using big words when I’m trying to sleep,” Ray muffled as he buried his head under the sleeping bag.

Fraser sighed.

“Understood,” he muttered, rolling on his side, his back to Ray.

“You’re – there you go again, dammit!” Ray exclaimed, twisting furiously to one side as Fraser twisted back.

They both let out exasperated breaths.

“The solution, Ray, is to hold each other,” Fraser stated solemnly.

“What?!” Ray shouted, and Fraser winced. “Uh, no way, uh-uh, not gonna happen.”

Fraser rolled his eyes, though he knew Ray couldn’t see him. “By securing ourselves to one another, it ensures movement from neither of us, thereby allowing you to sleep and me to not ‘hog the covers’, as it were.”

 “I don’t wanna,” Ray said, low.

“But Ray, it clearly seems the best solution – ” Fraser pressed, suddenly weary. He reached out and forcibly turned Ray to face him. “Certainly we have known each other long enough that you don’t need to feel awkward about sleepi – Oh.” Fraser suddenly bit his lip.

Against Fraser’s thigh, Ray’s erection was heavy and hot, unmistakable through the layer of flannel.

“Dammit, Fraser, why did you have to go and do that for, huh?” Ray pushed against Fraser’s chest, but as Fraser could have pointed out, there was no place for Ray to escape.

“Ray, it’s – Ray, stop.” Fraser shook Ray’s shoulders, stilling him. Ray’s eyes were wide and Fraser detected a hint of hysteria.

“Ray,” he said again, softly, “it’s alright.”

Ray closed his eyes and began shaking his head. His skin was drawn tight over his brow, and from this close, Fraser could see the line of stubble from Ray’s chin to lip. “No, no, it’s not alright, Fraser, it’s the farthest thing from right, it’s like so wrong it’s not even – mmrphh.”

It seemed prudent to erase the trace of panic in Ray’s voice, so Fraser kissed him. As well, it did have the advantage of shutting Ray up.

Ray’s lips were chapped and he tasted like three weeks of adventure, but suddenly he kissed Fraser back, and Fraser pulled him close.

“As I was saying, Ray,” Fraser whispered against Ray’s cheek, “This really is the most feasible solution.”

Ray snuffed into Fraser’s neck. “If you say so.”

“Fraser,” Ray panted, hands slipping on the sheets. He was barely able to stay up on his knees, and with Fraser behind him, thrusting harder and deeper, Ray was going to collapse at any moment.

“Oh, god, Fraser, just – keep going. Keep – tell me about the – ” Ray broke off, gripping the headboard. Fraser’s body draped like a blanket over Ray’s back, heavy and warm, sweat sliding between them as Fraser continued to push his way inside. Ray rocked back against him, could feel Fraser’s strong legs against his own, muscles hard and strained.

“According…to the manual,” Fraser grunted out, “the angle and…trajectory – Ray, Ray,” Fraser thrust in hard, “ – should be applied to – ”

“God, Fraser,” Ray moaned, “yes – christ, yes…I…”

“If applied,” Fraser interrupted, leaning over Ray so that his lips were against Ray’s ear, “properly,” he said breathlessly, “the…desired outcome will – ” Fraser’s hand reached under them and gripped Ray’s cock, thumb brushing roughly against the head, “the…outcome – will be achieved.”

“Fuck,” Ray choked out, scrabbling to wrap his fingers around Fraser’s, pulling harder and faster. “More, more – Fraser, don’t…”

“Ray,” Fraser moaned, biting the back of Ray’s neck. “Ray, I’m too close – I…”

“Yeah, yeah, then do it, do it, Fraser,” Ray said, turning to kiss Fraser sloppily on the cheek, finding his lips only when Fraser turned his head, rocking into Ray swift and smooth.

“Yes, yes,” Fraser panted against Ray’s cheek, “it’s all about the precise – application – oh, oh Ray,” Fraser drew in a sharp breath and went silent, his body shuddering against Ray’s through his orgasm.

Ray slumped against the bed, his hand still gripping Fraser’s tightly around his own cock, and together they stroked Ray until he groaned, once, and spilled over their hands.

“Shit, Fraser,” Ray said against the pillow. “That was – ”

“Indeed,” Fraser replied, pulling slowly out of Ray, and rolled over on his back. “In fact,” he said, eyes cloudy with amusement when Ray flopped against him, “perhaps it is not I who is the ‘freak’ in this relationship.”

“What,” Ray said defensively, nudging his nose against Fraser’s chest. “Just cause I get off on – things, I’m a freak?”

“Not at all, Ray,” Fraser said, hand coming to rest on the back of Ray’s neck. Ray felt Fraser kiss the top of his head. “Though I will remember in the future that reading the Mechanics Guide for Proper Installation of Carburetors before bed is the quickest way to get you into the mood.”

Ray grinned against Fraser’s arm and looked up, catching Fraser’s eye. “Y’know, I could say something about The Inuit Guide for Modern Day Gardening,” he said with a challenge.

“Oh, dear,” Fraser replied, blushing faintly. “Let’s not.”

Remus did it just to be infuriating, Sirius was certain. There was simply no bloody good explanation why Sirius - having spent the entire day working hard, earning keep so that the two of them could put food in their mouths - came in from the rain, dripping like a sodden trollop, to find Remus lolled about on the couch, eyes half-closed in some ridiculous drug-induced bliss, chocolate smeared over his lips like an invitation to sex.

"Remus," Sirius said, shaking Remus' shoulder. "C'mon, get up, there." Remus made no move save his fingers curling into the cuff of Sirius' sleeve. "Get up, you wanker," Sirius said again. Remus' head rolled back onto the arm of the sofa.

"Sirius," Remus warbled, chocolate stained mouth curling into a lazy smile. "You're home, then?"

"Yes, I'm home, you stupid git, and soaked to the bone, mind you. Came in expecting to find a warm cup of tea, maybe, or a bit of loaf, but here I find you - completely unreliable, for certain."

"Oh, Sirius," Remus drawled, long fingers wrapping around Sirius' wrist. They were warm and pulled gently. Sirius slumped on the sofa beside Remus, smugly pleased when drops of rain fell onto Remus' cheek. "What have you then, a bit of temper?" Remus laughed softly, nuzzling his cheek against Sirius' arm.

"Oi, temper, yeah," Sirius started, but Remus' face was gentle on his arm, and Remus' other hand had found Sirius' leg. "Temper indeed, and is a cuppa too much to ask of a mate when - "

Remus' fingers were sliding up and down his leg, ever so slowly, and Sirius drew a breath, determined to continue his argument. "As I said - "

Remus' fingers wrapped around Sirius' soft dick, squeezed through the denim. "Yes?" Remus murmured, biting lightly on Sirius' forearm.

To the credit of Sirius' youth, and despite Remus' inept and dazed excuse for seduction, Sirius' dick decided quite immediately that Remus' hand needed to stay where it was, damn the tea.

"The tea, that is," Sirius repeated, but his heart was no longer in it. He leaned down and kissed the side of Remus' mouth, tongue licking away the remains of chocolate. Remus smiled wider, kissed him back with sweet lips, teeth catching at Sirius' bottom lip.

"I made the tea," Remus murmured, "earlier, but you were late." His hand moved up Sirius' chest, circling tiny patterns over Sirius' shirt. "And the loaf is on the sideboard, when you're ready," he added, lips moving slowly over Sirius' jaw.

"That's a mate," Sirius replied, grasping Remus gently by the arms. "It can wait," he decided firmly, and pulled Remus on top of him, kissing away chocolate and rain.

A northeast breeze was coming toward them, blowing between tree trunks; palm fronds bent low and clicked together, disturbed. Overhead, Boone could see the high sun, a hanging orb against the blue sky, sliced apart by the swaying branches.

Beneath his knees the ground was soft. When he looked up, Jack was still there, one hand braced on a tree behind him, nails digging into the bark.

“I – we shouldn’t – ” Jack started.

Boone leaned forward and pressed his face against Jack’s crotch – through his pants, Boone felt Jack get hard, slowly.

“Please,” Boone whispered, “just – let me.”

Jack let out a long breath above him, placed his hands solidly on Boone’s shoulders.

“Boone, we – it’s gone on too long. I just think that – ”

“One more time,” Boone whispered, raising his eyes. “one more time, and then – Jack. Let me do this for you.”

Jack closed his eyes; his fingers traced the edge of Boone’s shoulder, across his collarbone. They were rough and calloused, jagged fingernails scraping lightly over Boone’s neck.

“I want to do this for you, Jack,” Boone said again, pleading. He began to unbutton Jack’s pants, parting them and reaching inside. “There’s no one else,” he whispered.

“Boone, you – god,” Jack replied, desperate. His head fell back against the tree trunk with a muted thunk. “You don’t have to – we never should have started – ”

“Stop,” Boone said, gripping Jack’s hip with one hand. “Just stop talking.”

Jack tasted musty, claustrophobic like the rest of the island – a pinned in world they couldn’t escape. Too long without anything to ground them – yet they were here, again, hidden in a thrush of bushes, Jack with his pants open and Boone with his mouth around the one thing he depended to be real.

Sometimes, Boone thought, it didn’t matter if they never left. It didn’t matter if they were never rescued, because this – this was his, here on the island. Jack was his, and no one else’s. He knew Jack’s body and he knew how to suck, just where to lick and how deep to go, and he knew that Jack would always bite his lip and make no sound when he came.

Jack’s hips moved toward Boone, and Boone pulled him in closer, deeper, concentrating on the warm dick in his mouth, on the whistle of air between Jack’s clenched teeth, on the snap of bark when Jack gripped the trunk too hard.

His fingers on Jack’s hips were going to leave bruises, and Boone’s throat was going to be sore later, but it didn’t matter, because this was real, this was solid, and this was his.

“Maybe never,” Shannon murmured, fingers drawing lazy circles in the sand. Somewhere behind them the ocean slithered its way to shore, drawn by a low, silent moon.

“Maybe never what?” Boone asked. Shannon’s thigh was pale and smooth under his hand; the pink of his fingernails stood out like tiny pebbles.

“Get off, you know – ” she sighed and stretched, waving one arm loosely. “Here,” she finally said, softly, before her hand slid on top of his like water.

Boone said nothing, just turned his hand under hers, traced the blue veins of her wrist with his thumb. “And if we don’t?” he asked, one finger now circling her wrist. Tiny, small motions, tinier than the waves, less infinite than the sea behind them. Her forearm was as soft as her wrist, softer still in the bend of her elbow.

Softer even yet when his lips pressed there; rough lips in the warm curve of her arm.

“Boone,” she said, a whisper, but did not stop him.

He did not look up, not at her eyes, nor her mouth, nor her hair as the wind blew it in long strands of gold against the silver sky.

“Then I – ” she started, but he did not let her finish, kissing her to steal the words, and claim them as his own.

The sand under Kate’s back was scorching. Tiny grains worked under her bra, trapped against her skin. Sawyer’s face was too close, so she closed her eyes and sunspots flared behind her eyelids.

“Such a pretty thing,” Sawyer grunted, hands rounding her hips. “Such a pretty, pretty thing,” he said again, sliding her pants down.

“Just do it,” Kate muttered, lifting up toward him. “Just do it and shut up.”

“Ah, we’re gettin’ feisty, are we? Well, I promise you one thing little lady – ” His fingers dug into her thighs. “Open your eyes,” he said harshly.

When she did, his face was dirty and sweat-streaked, eyes straining against the skin of his cheeks. His grin was feral. “Like I was sayin’, I promise you one thing – ” He leaned down and kissed her, hard. “You’re gonna enjoy this.”

“Yeah?” she challenged, bending up to bite his neck. “Am I?” she asked, nipping him again. Sawyer wrapped his hands in her hair, twisting her curls around his fingers.

“You’re gettin’ the full deal here, Freckles,” he said against her cheek. “I’m the best, and when I say I’m gonna deliver, I do.”

He kissed her again, tongue like a hot arrow in her mouth, and she fought a kiss back. His fingers pulled at her panties, left them torn and wasted beside them he thrust two fingers inside her. Pulled out slow, like the grin spreading across his face, and then leaned down, bit her nipple through the thin material as he thrust in again.

“I’m gonna make you scream,” he said confidently, one hand yanking at the fly of his jeans.

Kate rolled her eyes. “Never heard that cliché,” she said sarcastically. There was no place to put her hands, so they found their way to Sawyer’s back – it was broad and slick; she dug in and held on.

She looked down between their bodies – his jeans were around his knees, his erection prominent, leaking already.

“Commando, huh?” she said, letting her head fall back into the sand.

“Why bother any other way?” Sawyer asked. “Hey, look at me,” he said again, pressing one hand firmly into her chest. His thumb slipped under her bra, tracing around her nipple. “Stop pretending, will ya? You want this as much as I do, and since your precious Jack can’t seem to deliver – ” Sawyer broke off with a harsh laugh. “Then I’m the man for the job, isn’t that right?” His hand wrapped tight around his dick as he stroked up and down, looking at her through the fringe of hair falling into his eyes.

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” she shot back, breathy and deep.

“You don’t have to like it,” he replied, his smile a sharp angle of raw teeth. He leaned in close to her, brushed his lips over her ear. “You just have to come,” he whispered, and entered her in one long thrust.

Lex leaned back in his office chair and tried to think of calculus, of vectors and integers, statistical probabilities. His hand was shaking as he loosened his tie – he managed to get the top button open on his shirt, but he still felt as though he couldn’t breathe.

He knew his feet were on the floor – somewhere down there, expensive Italian loafers were digging in their heels against the plush carpet, but up here, the air was thin and his fingers sought something to grasp.

Between his knees, Clark was a kneeling god, surrounding Lex’s cock with heat that could convert even the most unrepentant.

“God, Clark,” Lex rasped, hands clutching at Clark’s hair. His fingers found soft curls, a brush of silk and he clung to it. “Oh, fuck,” he moaned, as Clark moved up and down, tighter and tighter.

Clark’s tongue licked around the head of Lex’s cock, down again to the base, over and over swirling up and around. Lex dug his nails into Clark’s scalp, hanging on even as Clark’s head moved faster.

“Just – Cla – don’t – ”

Clark’s mouth could bring down empires, Lex thought, as Clark gripped his thighs and went lower, deeper. Vast empires and kingdoms, god yes, and Lex’s cock inside Clark’s mouth was better than million dollar mergers, worth more than any hostile takeover or remote island or corporate coup.

Clark’s mouth could quite possibly bring Lex down, but if Clark would just keep doing that thing he was doing with his tongue, then Lex would walk willingly into the depths. He’d run toward them, just to have Clark like this, on his knees, kneeling before Lex like giving Lex a blowjob was the highest divine form of devotion.

And jesus – Lex shuddered when Clark lightly scraped his teeth along Lex’s dick – Clark’s mouth was fire, it was scorching heat. Lex looked down at the top of Clark’s head – his own fingers were twisted tightly in Clark’s hair, fingers strained and knuckles white.

He tugged, but Clark kept moving, kept stroking one hand over and over Lex’s leg, the other hand sliding under Lex’s balls to lift, caress, and when Clark pressed one finger against him, Lex pulled, hard, at Clark’s head.

“Look…look up,” he panted, “Clark, look…at me.”

Clark looked up then, with heavy, dark eyes, his spit-red lips slowing but not stopping. “You – yeah, oh god, Clark – you – ”

Clark said nothing, but his lips around Lex’s cock curled into a smile, and when he touched one finger to Lex’s cheek, stroked over the curve of Lex’s jaw, Lex came, hard, and Clark lowered his eyes and went still, swallowing until Lex slumped over Clark’s shoulder.

“I’ll let you get back to work now,” Clark murmured playfully, his voice muffled in Lex’s crotch.

“Nnnggghh,” Lex managed, before sliding off the chair, and into Clark’s lap.