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stefanie_beanChapter 3: Fire on the Mountain
Pairing: Hurley/Sun
Characters: Hugo Reyes, Sun Kwon, Carmen Reyes, David Reyes, Kate Austen
Rating: M
Length: 2059 words
Notes: Complete
A sensual, bittersweet tale of what happened when Hurley went to visit Sun in Seoul.
Chapter 3: Fire on the Mountain
Hugo turned off the television, heart pounding. He swept the remains of his dinner and the congealing nachos onto the room service tray, then nudged the tray in front of the door across the hall, so that it wouldn't look like it was his. Besides his suit, all he had were some t-shirts and some cargo jeans and board shorts. He was still debating which t-shirt to put on when a few gentle knocks echoed on the door. Quickly he grabbed a light brown one festooned with orange palms, and in his nervousness twisted it around his shoulders. He was still trying to get it adjusted around the front when he opened the door.
Sun glided into the room slowly, like a prima ballerina stepping in front of the closed curtain for her final bow. The audience was on its feet, so she could lower herself before the crowd and take all the time she needed. No matter what she did, this night's particular performance was over. There were no more mistakes she could make, at least not during this dance. Tomorrow's performance was a long way away, so for now, at least, she could relax.
“I'm sorry I didn't ring you earlier,” she said as she set down her purse on the coffee table. “I would have liked to invite you to dinner, but I had to be at a board meeting.”
All Hugo could think of was, School board? But that didn't make any sense, because Ji Yeon was a baby. Sun sensed Hugo's confusion, saying, “I run Paik Industries with my father now. There are many meetings.”
All Hugo said was, “Wow.”
She looked around the room as if it was familiar to her. “Are you comfortable here? I can speak to the manager if you aren't.”
“It's all great, Sun.”
She lowered her head in a small half-bow, then raised her eyes to meet his. The glowing smolder in her expression was unmistakable. A wave of déjà vu swept over him, not because he'd ever stayed in this room before, or ever stood in Sun's warm, penetrating gaze. He had imagined it so often that it almost felt like memory.
After the earlier cold dismissal, he wasn't sure if he should hug her. Before he could decide, she put her arms around his shoulders as she had done in her apartment, but this time didn't pull out of the embrace. She stayed close, so close that Hugo once more breathed in the green and herbal fragrance of her hair, and the blood left his head so quickly it made him slightly dizzy.
“Hey, Sun,” he said in a soft muffled voice.
She said back, “Hey, yourself," then stood on tiptoe to reach as high as she could. She didn't quite kiss him, just placed her lips right over his mouth without touching, leaving him to decide whether to fall into the kiss or step back.
It wasn't much of a decision, and Hugo fell into the kiss like a man plunging off a cliff. Her lip gloss tasted like the passion-fruit they used to eat on the Island: exotic at first, then ordinary, but always delicious. She took tender little bites from his lips as he pulled her in as close as he could, painfully and delightfully aware of the length of her all down his body. Back and forth, up and down they went with those long exploring kisses. Then she broke away from him and he felt a swift disappointment. Was that going to be all?
No, she only went to turn out the room lights, leaving the two of them momentarily swathed in thick, velvet darkness. With the same seamless glide she crossed the room as if she knew it by heart, and flung open the tall curtains. The nighttime sky and glittering city filled the darkened room, their twin lights piled like a queen's jewels carelessly tossed aside for something even more fascinating.
Sun ran her hands over Hugo as if wanting to memorize the entire length and breadth and shape of him. The city's glow gleamed on her hair but left her face in shadow, so that he couldn't see her expression. Her rapid breath and her intense, alert stance let him know how interested she was. It was if a long-standing curiosity was finally being satisfied. She traveled over him like an explorer starting the long climb up an unknown landscape, feeling every step along the way, not wanting to miss a single thing.
She peeled off his soft, thin t-shirt like it was a second skin, leaving nowhere to run, no towel or shower curtain to hide behind. By now he didn't care. Nothing stood in the way of her roving palms as they glided over silky hair and delicate nipple, and he was suddenly fiercely, desperately aroused. He covered her mouth again, and now it tasted like her, only her and nothing else, because they'd kissed off all the lipstick flavor.
When she turned her back to him, he thought he would go mad if they had to stop, even though he would have, if that's what she wanted. But no, she only wanted him to unzip her tight linen sheath. At first the zipper stuck because he could barely work his fingers. Finally it pulled free, and the dress slid all the way down past the curve of her bottom and fell to the floor. She stepped out of the collapsed linen pile ivory-pale, entirely naked, and he thought he would drown in a sea of desire.
He had never seen anyone so beautiful. Everything halted like a movie in slow-motion. Not one of those kinds of movies, although he'd seen his share in his time, always layered over with a thin scum of shame and guilt. This was different. Hugo had come to that strange cross-roads where desire mutates into worship, and the only place to go is down on your knees.
There was no rush. Hugo rested his mouth first on one breast, then the other, and once more that long, soft ahhh wrapped itself around his heart even tighter. Her breasts weren't as high and firm as he remembered (oh, he would never forget those sun-drenched glory days on the beach, when he watched her exult in her newfound freedom in a bikini made of fine-woven strings which barely covered anything.) Those perfect globes rested in his hands, beautifully soft from pregnancy.
Down he grazed over her belly, just a bit loose under the navel, the skin laced with tiny delicate ridges to show where Ji Yeon had lain inside her. She parted her thighs as Hugo sank down on his knees to her fountain's edge where first he sipped, then drank until he could hold no more, until her long soft cries circled like birds over the mountains.
The moon rose to fill the night sky, and her face gleamed with pale, wild fire. With the lightest touch on his shoulder, she steered his mass onto the bed. He lay spread out before her vast and helpless, putty in her hands, flesh entirely open to her will, whatever that might be. Ready for anything.
The crinkle of crisp foil brought him back to himself. She knelt next to him on the bed and said, “Pink or green?”
What she was talking about? Was she asking him if he wanted strawberry or lime candy, maybe? Then it hit him, of course they weren't candy. What an idiot he was. “Surprise me,” he murmured.
Laughter shone in her eyes as she started unwrapping. Then her hands wandered all over him again and her mouth besides, until, sprawled out before her, Sun climbed upon Hugo the way an explorer scales the mountain-side. Her tender hands trod like little feet all over his hills and dales. When she reached the summit she lay there quietly for awhile, playing with his breasts, his sides, his soft belly, as he rolled beneath her.
When they cried out in delight, it seemed for an instant that all those months of longing weren't poured into a woman, but some green spirit who might disappear at any moment. The next morning, her gift of emerald and gold might change into a few twigs or an old bird's nest. He held her tighter, as if his grasp could keep that moment at bay.
Hugo must have slept a little, because the next he knew, Sun had untangled herself from his arms and was pulling on her sheath dress. The clock read 2:16. “I have to go," she said in a soft apologetic voice. "They think I am at a party.”
He couldn't begin to imagine the network of obligations which bound her. What an idiot he was, not thinking about how difficult it might have been for her to slip out. “That's cool,” he said, his arms feeling empty already. He helped Sun zip up her dress while she slid her feet into slim, pointed shoes.
“Would you do something for me?” she said. “Ring the front desk, and ask them to call for a taxi for your guest. Don't say my name, just say 'my guest.' Tell them to call your room when the taxi arrives, and put the charge on your bill.” Then, as if she knew how that sounded, she said, “I'm sorry. It's just that—”
“Hey, don't worry about it. I'm going to have to, um, turn on the light. That okay with you?”
Sun nodded, and as Hugo made the call, he noticed for the first time that she wasn't wearing her big gleaming diamond. On the phone, he did as she had told him, only flubbing it up a little. She powdered her face and put on some lipstick in front of the big mirror, its frame made of wood as dark as her hair. Hugo offered her something from the mini-bar, but she refused. He drank a diet soda as they waited without speaking. Then the room phone rang. The taxi had arrived.
“No, don't walk me down,” Sun said as she left. “I'll get in touch with you tomorrow, when I can.”
(continued)
Pairing: Hurley/Sun
Characters: Hugo Reyes, Sun Kwon, Carmen Reyes, David Reyes, Kate Austen
Rating: M
Length: 2059 words
Notes: Complete
A sensual, bittersweet tale of what happened when Hurley went to visit Sun in Seoul.
Chapter 3: Fire on the Mountain
Hugo turned off the television, heart pounding. He swept the remains of his dinner and the congealing nachos onto the room service tray, then nudged the tray in front of the door across the hall, so that it wouldn't look like it was his. Besides his suit, all he had were some t-shirts and some cargo jeans and board shorts. He was still debating which t-shirt to put on when a few gentle knocks echoed on the door. Quickly he grabbed a light brown one festooned with orange palms, and in his nervousness twisted it around his shoulders. He was still trying to get it adjusted around the front when he opened the door.
Sun glided into the room slowly, like a prima ballerina stepping in front of the closed curtain for her final bow. The audience was on its feet, so she could lower herself before the crowd and take all the time she needed. No matter what she did, this night's particular performance was over. There were no more mistakes she could make, at least not during this dance. Tomorrow's performance was a long way away, so for now, at least, she could relax.
“I'm sorry I didn't ring you earlier,” she said as she set down her purse on the coffee table. “I would have liked to invite you to dinner, but I had to be at a board meeting.”
All Hugo could think of was, School board? But that didn't make any sense, because Ji Yeon was a baby. Sun sensed Hugo's confusion, saying, “I run Paik Industries with my father now. There are many meetings.”
All Hugo said was, “Wow.”
She looked around the room as if it was familiar to her. “Are you comfortable here? I can speak to the manager if you aren't.”
“It's all great, Sun.”
She lowered her head in a small half-bow, then raised her eyes to meet his. The glowing smolder in her expression was unmistakable. A wave of déjà vu swept over him, not because he'd ever stayed in this room before, or ever stood in Sun's warm, penetrating gaze. He had imagined it so often that it almost felt like memory.
After the earlier cold dismissal, he wasn't sure if he should hug her. Before he could decide, she put her arms around his shoulders as she had done in her apartment, but this time didn't pull out of the embrace. She stayed close, so close that Hugo once more breathed in the green and herbal fragrance of her hair, and the blood left his head so quickly it made him slightly dizzy.
“Hey, Sun,” he said in a soft muffled voice.
She said back, “Hey, yourself," then stood on tiptoe to reach as high as she could. She didn't quite kiss him, just placed her lips right over his mouth without touching, leaving him to decide whether to fall into the kiss or step back.
It wasn't much of a decision, and Hugo fell into the kiss like a man plunging off a cliff. Her lip gloss tasted like the passion-fruit they used to eat on the Island: exotic at first, then ordinary, but always delicious. She took tender little bites from his lips as he pulled her in as close as he could, painfully and delightfully aware of the length of her all down his body. Back and forth, up and down they went with those long exploring kisses. Then she broke away from him and he felt a swift disappointment. Was that going to be all?
No, she only went to turn out the room lights, leaving the two of them momentarily swathed in thick, velvet darkness. With the same seamless glide she crossed the room as if she knew it by heart, and flung open the tall curtains. The nighttime sky and glittering city filled the darkened room, their twin lights piled like a queen's jewels carelessly tossed aside for something even more fascinating.
Sun ran her hands over Hugo as if wanting to memorize the entire length and breadth and shape of him. The city's glow gleamed on her hair but left her face in shadow, so that he couldn't see her expression. Her rapid breath and her intense, alert stance let him know how interested she was. It was if a long-standing curiosity was finally being satisfied. She traveled over him like an explorer starting the long climb up an unknown landscape, feeling every step along the way, not wanting to miss a single thing.
She peeled off his soft, thin t-shirt like it was a second skin, leaving nowhere to run, no towel or shower curtain to hide behind. By now he didn't care. Nothing stood in the way of her roving palms as they glided over silky hair and delicate nipple, and he was suddenly fiercely, desperately aroused. He covered her mouth again, and now it tasted like her, only her and nothing else, because they'd kissed off all the lipstick flavor.
When she turned her back to him, he thought he would go mad if they had to stop, even though he would have, if that's what she wanted. But no, she only wanted him to unzip her tight linen sheath. At first the zipper stuck because he could barely work his fingers. Finally it pulled free, and the dress slid all the way down past the curve of her bottom and fell to the floor. She stepped out of the collapsed linen pile ivory-pale, entirely naked, and he thought he would drown in a sea of desire.
He had never seen anyone so beautiful. Everything halted like a movie in slow-motion. Not one of those kinds of movies, although he'd seen his share in his time, always layered over with a thin scum of shame and guilt. This was different. Hugo had come to that strange cross-roads where desire mutates into worship, and the only place to go is down on your knees.
There was no rush. Hugo rested his mouth first on one breast, then the other, and once more that long, soft ahhh wrapped itself around his heart even tighter. Her breasts weren't as high and firm as he remembered (oh, he would never forget those sun-drenched glory days on the beach, when he watched her exult in her newfound freedom in a bikini made of fine-woven strings which barely covered anything.) Those perfect globes rested in his hands, beautifully soft from pregnancy.
Down he grazed over her belly, just a bit loose under the navel, the skin laced with tiny delicate ridges to show where Ji Yeon had lain inside her. She parted her thighs as Hugo sank down on his knees to her fountain's edge where first he sipped, then drank until he could hold no more, until her long soft cries circled like birds over the mountains.
The moon rose to fill the night sky, and her face gleamed with pale, wild fire. With the lightest touch on his shoulder, she steered his mass onto the bed. He lay spread out before her vast and helpless, putty in her hands, flesh entirely open to her will, whatever that might be. Ready for anything.
The crinkle of crisp foil brought him back to himself. She knelt next to him on the bed and said, “Pink or green?”
What she was talking about? Was she asking him if he wanted strawberry or lime candy, maybe? Then it hit him, of course they weren't candy. What an idiot he was. “Surprise me,” he murmured.
Laughter shone in her eyes as she started unwrapping. Then her hands wandered all over him again and her mouth besides, until, sprawled out before her, Sun climbed upon Hugo the way an explorer scales the mountain-side. Her tender hands trod like little feet all over his hills and dales. When she reached the summit she lay there quietly for awhile, playing with his breasts, his sides, his soft belly, as he rolled beneath her.
When they cried out in delight, it seemed for an instant that all those months of longing weren't poured into a woman, but some green spirit who might disappear at any moment. The next morning, her gift of emerald and gold might change into a few twigs or an old bird's nest. He held her tighter, as if his grasp could keep that moment at bay.
Hugo must have slept a little, because the next he knew, Sun had untangled herself from his arms and was pulling on her sheath dress. The clock read 2:16. “I have to go," she said in a soft apologetic voice. "They think I am at a party.”
He couldn't begin to imagine the network of obligations which bound her. What an idiot he was, not thinking about how difficult it might have been for her to slip out. “That's cool,” he said, his arms feeling empty already. He helped Sun zip up her dress while she slid her feet into slim, pointed shoes.
“Would you do something for me?” she said. “Ring the front desk, and ask them to call for a taxi for your guest. Don't say my name, just say 'my guest.' Tell them to call your room when the taxi arrives, and put the charge on your bill.” Then, as if she knew how that sounded, she said, “I'm sorry. It's just that—”
“Hey, don't worry about it. I'm going to have to, um, turn on the light. That okay with you?”
Sun nodded, and as Hugo made the call, he noticed for the first time that she wasn't wearing her big gleaming diamond. On the phone, he did as she had told him, only flubbing it up a little. She powdered her face and put on some lipstick in front of the big mirror, its frame made of wood as dark as her hair. Hugo offered her something from the mini-bar, but she refused. He drank a diet soda as they waited without speaking. Then the room phone rang. The taxi had arrived.
“No, don't walk me down,” Sun said as she left. “I'll get in touch with you tomorrow, when I can.”
(continued)