James Sawyer was so used to waking up next to Juliet in the little Dharma house he would have found it odd if there wasn't someone in bed next to him every morning.

Except for this morning.

He woke to the sunrise streaming yellow and vermilion through the curtains and was instantly aware of two things; he had a massive, outrageous hangover, and the person next to him was snoring. Loudly.

He grunted and pressed his thumbs against his temples. The room swayed slightly.

"Sawyer?"

Sawyer turned to see Jack Shephard sitting up in bed, looking at him with a confused, pained expression. Judging by the look on his face, he was about as hungover as Sawyer was, if not more so.

"Doc?" Sawyer said, furrowing his brow. "Where's Juliet?"

"What the hell am I doing here?" Jack said to no one in particular.

"What happened last night?" Sawyer said, standing up and pulling a shirt on, having just realized he was wearing nothing but boxers.

"Well, uh," Jack mumbled, "I think I..."

"Fell off the wagon?" Sawyer suggested, pulling some pants on.

Jack glared at him and pulled the covers to his chest. "That's not funny."

"Lighten up, Doc," Sawyer said, holding himself steady as he was hit with a wave of nausea. "Jesus Christ," he muttered, stumbling into the kitchen. Jack followed, pulling on a pair of pants as he went.

"Someone made coffee," Jack noted as he poured himself a cup.

"Yeah," Sawyer said, squinting and looking around the kitchen. No note, no nothing -- where the hell was she? "I have to take a piss," he announced, making his way to the bathroom and fumbling his way to the toilet.

He pulled his shirt up and noticed that there was dried come on his stomach, leaving him even more confused.

Sawyer glanced in the mirror and pushed his hair away from his neck. As he had suspected, there was a hickey there.

He stumbled back out of the bathroom. "I had sex last night," he told Jack. "I think."

Jack's brows knitted. "Okay," he said, slurring a little. "Christ, my head hurts." He continued to sip his coffee.

There was a sort of uneven, overly loud pause, and then Jack spit out a mouthful of coffee.

"What?" Sawyer said, slightly alarmed.

"Oh, God," Jack hissed as he half-ran, half-stumbled into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.

Sawyer heard retching. "You all right in there, Doc?" he said gruffly, pounding on the bathroom door.

He waited a few minutes until Jack opened the door slowly, turned his neck and pointed at a hickey very similar to Sawyer's.

The gears in Sawyer's brain turned slowly. "No," he said stupidly as soon as it clicked. "No, Doc!"

"I'm thinking yes," Jack moaned, easing himself into a chair around the kitchen table.

"No, Doc! We didn't!" Sawyer shouted, waving his arms for emphasis. "You're fucking crazy!"

"Think about it, Sawyer," Jack said slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We both got laid last night. We woke up in the same bed..."

Sawyer choked on his own breath and tried to slow his pounding chest. "I need some fresh air," he barked, storming out of the little house and taking deep breaths.

He had a feeling this was going to be a very bad day.


A/N: I was definitely inspired by the season finale. Sawyer and Jack had such a Draco/Harry thing going on, I couldn't help myself.