#aintheroes

this whole situation is crazy -- and hurley knows crazy. maybe that's a good thing , though , allowing him to go with the flow as he's assigned kitchen duty for the dharma initiative. the dharma freakin' initiative. what was that about crazy ? arms full of orientation paperwork and branded swag , he can't help by gravitate towards a familiar presence. it seems , much to @aintheroes's chagrin.

" can you stop hovering? "

at this point , jack isn't sure why he even bothers taking things out of his pack. once again , there's a need to someone to lead the way and so , once again , he's throwing supplies into a bag , trying to anticipate the unknowable. only partly aware some's approaching , he doesn't even look up at first -- not until the other speaks.

' don't get yourself killed. '

these dharma jabronies sure know how to throw a party , though really it shouldn't surprise miles too much. it is the '70s afterall. after six months , that notion is getting less and less wild -- this whole place starting to feel like home. and not just because he could run into his mom at any moment. she's exactly who he had been avoiding at this little shindig , opting instead for only two drinks ( and a hit off some hippy-ass looking guy's joint ) over the course of the night. can't exactly say the same for his roommate. with things starting to wind down , he'd done the responsible thing and gone to find james. sure enough , the blonde is stumbling around , shitfaced by the looks of things. even then , though , he answers without hesitation to lafleur , carrying on his lie like it's the god's honest truth. miles has to admit , it's impressive. even more impressive is how hot shitfaced looks on him.

arm wrapped around the other man , he guides him outta the rec center and over towards their little yellow house. six months and horace still can't seem to manage the separate quarters promise. miles likes to complain , but really , he doesn't mind it much. not that he'd ever admit it , but he likes spending time with james. they're nearly to the familiar porch when he stops to get a better grip on the blonde and it's then that the man in his arms does something that makes miles freeze. there's a world where what he'd done is innocent enough , but not with the soft groan the accompanies it. miles's mouth , already dry , may as well be the freakin' sahara desert , heat rising to his cheeks. thank god it's night.

sayid patiently waits until locke, or whatever he is, leaves his line of sight before his eyes return to sawyer nearby. his lids are heavy with exhaustion but he refused to sleep just yet. he's fairly certain that if he were to say nothing at all, the two of them would sit in silence with the crackling fire between them, and they would eventually drift off to sleep. but he remains silent, sat on top of a log with his fingers absentmindedly brushing over his bruised knuckles, and his eyes growing distant with thought.