Well, uh . . . thanks for the response? I. . . I'm flattered. Really. Truly. How many of you would guess that I was male? Surprise! Yeah. Uhh, that was really a one-shot, but, because of (unexpected but not unwanted) reader response, I'm gunna see if I can do the morning after. I will try. If you like it, you like it, if you don't, you don't. . . need to tell me.
Also, be aware, as the last chapter was rated for language, this one is rated for skating around sex to the point of teasing my readers. I like power. :)
Disclaimer: Well, I forgot to put it in the last chapter, so. . . I own nothing! Nothing at all. Nope. Not a thing. Except for the $0.25 Canadian to my name. Yep.
He awoke with a start. He blearily sat up, and cast his hands about. Blankets. . . check. Wreckage pieces. . . check. Sand. . . check. Woman. . . still no. Hurley sighed. He opened his eyes and looked around. It was still dark out. He could see the stars through the leaves over his wreckage.
He lay back down and stared into space, wishing that he could see Starla again. Or any woman. At all. Ever. He thought as he stared into space, Jeez, Charlie's the closest thing I have to a girlfriend on this island, and he can't believe that. . . Hurley sighed again. He rubbed his eyes, and figured out that he wasn't getting to sleep any time before dawn. Hurley got up and lumbered outside.
Hurley stretched and took in a deep breath. He loved the smell of the sea at night, and ever since the wreckage was washed away, he could enjoy it without the smell of burnt metal. But, he thought he smelled something funny just the same. Like the wreckage, only. . . was that bamboo?
Hurley looked up and down the beach. Up, he saw Kate's shelter, with the remains of a fire in front of it. He looked at it by the dim moonlight, and couldn't see any burnt metal. . . or anything that would stink so bad anyway. Down, he saw the remains of a considerably larger fire, that looked like it was made on a piece of wing with a bench set up in front of it. He looked at the embers, still burning, and started walking.
Hurley stared at the fire in confusion. Why would anyone build so big? Or so. . . a bench? On the beach? Hurley took the fire as granted, another weird thing on this island and sat to ponder the beach and the night.
And that's where he awoke two hours later as the sun was coming up.
Claire woke up gradually, feeling the warm ache inside her and the warm light outside of her. She moaned as she stretched with her eyes closed. Once satisfied that her muscles were sufficiently stretched, she lay back down and breathed in the air. As she did so, she realized two things: Charlie's fire smelled horrible the morning after and OH MY GOD DID I JUST SPEND THE NIGHT WITH CHARLIE!
Her eyes shot open as she remembered that her shelter only had three walls and anyone who walked by could see her. . . anything! She scurried back under the blankets and started casting about for clothes on the beach ground. Underwear, outerwear, robes, anything to walk outside and find her top in.
She eventually found a buttoned shirt and a pair of shorts in a pile of clean clothes in the back corner. As she hurriedly put them on, she stood, and tip-toed out onto the beach. As she turned to see Charlie's fire–long out by now–she saw that someone was in the way.
Claire wondered for a brief moment what in god's name Hurley was doing sitting on Charlie's bench. Then wondered what in god's name Hurley was doing SLEEPING on Charlie's bench. Then, as she scanned the beach, she wondered where the hell she'd left her top the last night.
She tip-toed past the sleeping giant, got down on her knees and started sifting through the sand for her shirt. Or her bra. That might be just as important. Claire started to look a lot faster.
Charlie awoke gradually, feeling the ground shift beneath him. He had a moment of morning amnesia where he half-thought, But bedrock doesn't shift! and then assumed he was on the beach, again. He scolded himself for sleeping down the beach from her, again, but he had to make sure she was alright.
Charlie started to shift around, when he felt that he was in a blanket. He moaned in confusion, and felt around under his head, where there was a pillow. His confusion grew when he realized he was naked. That was when his eyes shot open and he was staring at the bottom of a crib.
He closed his eyes in thought and tried to remember how he'd ended up here. After a moment's consideration, the entire night came back to him in one rush of images: Claire, topless, heading back to her shelter, running to her, ripping his own clothes off, leaving the fire outside alone, the fire in him stoked enough already. After that, it was a hazy blur of pale skin, soft lips and heat, so much heat, that he wondered why he wasn't burned to a crisp.
At the moment of realization, Charlie sat up faster than he should've, and hit his cut on the bottom of the crib, moaning in the back of his throat in agony. All told, this was better than him sitting up very fast, not hitting anything and shouting "WHOA!" like he would've had there been no crib. Because then, Hurley would have heard Charlie and seen Claire sneaking back into her shelter with her clothes.
Thankfully, Claire was able to travel back into her shelter silently and without Hurley's realization that she and Charlie had. . . hoo, oh, not thinking about that outside again. She stepped carefully, avoiding sticks and other debris that would break and make noises to wake Hurley. Claire stepped inside, and straddled an addled Charlie.
"Claire! Wh–" Charlie blurted too loudly.
Claire pressed a hand over his mouth and a finger over her lips. They both stayed perfectly still until she was certain she hadn't heard Hurley move. She removed the finger from her lips and the hand from his mouth. She leaned over, and whispered in his ear, "Charlie, Hurley is asleep on your bench right outside. Just keep quiet until he walks away again, then we can talk out loud, kay?"
"Kay," Charlie whispered back. He could barely stand the feel of her against him, afraid he might make a terribly loud noise and smother all of her in kisses.
"Good," Claire whispered, and on impulse licked his earlobe. She felt him shudder beneath her, kissed his ear and sat back up to full straddling position.
Hurley slowly woke up at the crack of dawn, feeling the sun warm him up. He stretched for the second time that morning, feeling his back crack as he leaned backwards, hands barely avoiding brushing Claire's wall. He put his hands back in his lap, and sighed in contentment, feeling that something was right with the morning. He stared at the ocean as it came alive, sparkling with life. He sat, and stared, unaware that Claire was searching for her underwear behind him under the impression that he was asleep. He took a deep breath–he wasn't a yawner–and just felt good. A couple minutes later, Hurley got up, stretched and walked on down the beach, never having seen the shelter behind him once that night.
Charlie spent a minute and a half with Claire on top of him, occasionally running her fingers over his chest, intertwining her fingers with his or making sure his hands didn't wander anywhere that would make her laugh or squeal too loud. So, after a minute and a half of sparse moans, giggles, squeals, and one snort which nearly led to an all out laugh breakdown, Claire decided to check if Hurley was even there anymore.
As she worked her way back off of Charlie's legs, she leaned out and looked at the bench, which was surprisingly empty, with a set of deep footprints leading off up the beach. She crawled back up onto his legs, and ran her fingers down his chest again.
"The sleeping giant has moved back to his shelter," Claire said, seeking out his hands again to hold and to touch and to feel and. . . well. . . several other things that led down the same road that normally ended in Charlie topless, but since last night ended in Sexual-Satisfaction Country. She'd made up in her mind that Ookyville was far, far away, and would stay there.
Charlie looked her up and down, from her eyes to where she sat on top of him and back. "You know," he said, "it's a little obvious that you aren't wearing any underwear."
Claire looked down and, not to much surprise, saw that her nipples had stiffened underneath her shirt, peaking the thin fabric. Charlie's hands came up to her chest and began to unbutton her shirt. Claire leaned forward until her mouth was at Charlie's ear again, and whispered, "It's also a little obvious that you're turned on."
Claire trailed her hands down his chest, past his waist and started to rub him through the blanket, as Charlie's hands continued to work. As she worked him faster and faster, she whispered, "After this, you get your clothes, dress and go back to the caves. We have to act like nothing happened last night. If anyone asks, we sat and watched the fire together, then you left. Deal?"
Charlie's breathing got faster and heavier as she rubbed him harder and harder. The only response he could give was to moan into her shoulder as he came. A few seconds later, he managed to breathe out, "Deal."
Claire kissed him as hard as she could, opening her mouth to his and tonguing his lips, begging entrance. A heartbeat later, he was kissing her furiously, one hand holding her to him, and the other tracing circles around her bare nipple.
She broke the kiss off with a short moan. She looked him in the eye and said, "You really have to go. If someone sees us like this. . ."
"Yes, yes, Ookyville and suchlike," Charlie said. "Can we do this again?"
"I'm free tonight if you are," Claire said, smiling.
"I can reschedule my golf tournament," Charlie laughed. He kissed her neck, trailing down to nibble on her collarbone. All he wanted was to taste and feel her for the next. . . ever.
Claire tried not to moan or breathe too loudly. "Here," she said, passing him his underwear, "take these, find your pants, and next time I leave you with my top and my bra, take them inside with you."
Charlie hurriedly started putting his pants on. "Do you know where I left my shirt by any chance?"
Claire crawled around on the sand. "I think it's under. . ." she paused, feeling under the blanket, "here." Her hand re-emerged with his shirt. She passed it to him as the both stood.
"Thanks," he muttered, and threw it on. He straightened out his shirt, looked at her and smiled. "Your shirt's still. . ."
Claire looked down and realized her shirt was open and she was totally exposed. "Oh, thanks," she said as she quickly buttoned it back up. When she was done, she looked Charlie in the eye again. They stayed that way for a while.
"So. . ." Charlie began. "Uhh. . . goodbye?" He nervously walked over to her and kissed her.
Claire broke it off after a few seconds. "Bye, Charlie." Charlie hurried out of the shelter, and started to jog back to the caves. A couple meters away, he turned around.
"Tell me if you find my shoes, yeah?" He asked, nervous.
"Oh! Of course." Claire said. They both felt like they weren't saying something that needed to be said. They both stared at the ground in awkward silence.
"Well, seeya tonight!" Charlie said.
"I'd better!" Claire laughed. They both sighed, and Charlie ran off.
So, that's the morning after. I think this actually has legs! I thank my reviewers, LunaAqua and ladydragon99 for the encouragement, cos otherwise, this would never get off the ground. Ever. It would've been a oneshot, and I have you guys to thank for the second chapter. (And third and fourth it looks like. Though, I'm not telling you what's in those. . . ;))