Fic: The Only Way
Title: The Only Way
Pairing: Jack/Sawyer
Rating: NC-17
Summary: PWP. Handcuffs. Sorry for the hatch. Most convenient locale. There is no Recuperating!Sawyer crap, though, K?
Note: Post-"Collision," of necessity, and Pre-"The Long Con," just because that’s our new Sawyer personality marker. This is unbeta’d (as always), but I didn’t take a whole hell of a lot of time editing it myself either, so I apologize for any uneven spots or screw ups. DId this rather than schoolwork; gotta go back to the schoolwork now. :(
For ellel, whose random comment about my last story--asking to see Jack in handcuffs--spawned this. It’s not high on the Jack Snark, but I hope you like it anyway. At least it got my muse back to work again, for which I’m grateful.
The Only Way
Jack never slept. This was something Sawyer knew. He knew because he had spent a lot of time watching him, waiting for the right opening, the right time to claim Jack-because Jack wanted to be claimed. He saw it everyday in the deepness of his eyes, the hardness of his shoulders, the heavy stomp of his walk. Or else the days where he moved like one false step would send him over the edge to doing something he didn’t want to do. But Sawyer knew much better than Jack that he did want to do it-something unexpected, crazy, wild, open, hard, fast, overwhelming.
He also knew that this thing Jack wanted, that he needed, was him. That deep brown gaze stayed on his body too long, and those shoulders seemed to find ways to brush his, for that touch to linger even if it claimed to be aggressive or accidental. And his walk always got heavier when he was trying to get Sawyer to leave him alone. When Jack wasn’t finding excuses to touch Sawyer, he was desperate to get away from him. That was what made Sawyer the most crazy-this uncertainty in Jack’s mind and body, as if he would need to be coaxed, but once coaxed, he would give him something strong and powerful to make Sawyer glad he was this patient. Not that he had a choice in the matter. He had to have Jack. He had to have that combination of goodness and stubbornness, let himself be fucked by this haunted shell of a man who could turn that pain into control as quick as Sawyer would be able to slide a hand down over his crotch and make him respond.
So Sawyer waited. Jack would have to sleep sometime. And when he did, he was sure to sleep like the dead and be awakened like a man at the end of his rope who might go along with things he’d normally be too restrained to allow.
*****
In his nice comfortable cocoon-the bed in the hatch-Jack awoke at the sound of the snap as much as at the feel of it. It was a noise he’d heard before, back in the real world where he saw all sorts of patients come through the hospital, some of them not so nice. Some of them accompanied by a police officer, who stood guard, ready to remove or put on those heavy metal handcuffs that marked them as dangerous. Jack’s eyes had already slammed open now, and he didn’t have to be able to see his hands behind his head to know that he was wearing handcuffs, and if he wasn’t precisely dangerous, this situation was, and it was because he was staring up into the eyes of the only man on the island crazy enough to handcuff a person to a bed frame with a look of lust in his eyes that could make a person nearly lose his mind.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Jack said, hoping to keep that half-panicked squeal out of his voice.
“You.”
“Sawyer…”
But the man simply sat back on his haunches at Jack’s feet, watching him curiously, a smile playing over his face. As if being handcuffed wasn’t a vulnerable enough feeling, Jack was wearing nothing but his boxers. Sawyer was fully clothed in a white t-shirt and his worn jeans, and he seemed perfectly content to stare at Jack with looks that evaluated every inch of his skin, every taut curve of his legs and abs and chest. And the remarkable thing was the look on Sawyer’s face said he liked what he saw, said he couldn’t get enough of staring at Jack. This was sufficient confusion to allow Jack to keep quiet. He needed to wait him out, not betray his fear and uncertainty too much, and certainly not tug at the hard metal around his wrists that had already begun to dig into his skin, bruising him. Jack stared at him for the longest time-his eyes narrowed and spoke threats, Sawyer’s sparkled with lust and self-satisfaction-but neither of them said anything.
Finally, Sawyer moved, sliding his hands up the inside of Jack’s thighs so fast that Jack was startled, but not so startled that he didn’t feel those touches race like fire through his body and straight to his cock. As Sawyer’s hands traveled up and under his boxers, his thumbs settling on the sensitive flesh where his balls met the insides of his thighs, Jack watched helplessly as his cock hardened, aching for Sawyer’s hands to move. One of his fingers brushed the side of his cock, and he found his body stretching up and off the bed, his hips fighting toward his hand. But Sawyer withdrew his hands and smiled, sitting back again.
Jack said, “Take them off.”
Sawyer’s lazy drawl responded: “The boxers or the bracelets?”
“Fuck you, Sawyer. You know what I mean.”
“Fuck me, huh? Sure looks like that’s what you want, don’t it.”
“Let. Me. Go.”
Mocking, Sawyer replied, “No. Way. Jose. Close your eyes.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me! What the fuck is your problem?”
His patience finally giving way, Sawyer snapped, “I’m tired of living with a constant boner from being around your fucking tight ass body, knowing you won’t stop being such a pussy and touch me already. Jesus Christ, I know you want it,” he said, staring at Jack’s erection.
“Not like this,” Jack retorted.
The admission brought a wide smile to Sawyer’s face, and his easy control returned. “No. Exactly like this. Only way you’ll ever let me touch you is against your will. Otherwise, you’d have to be the bossy one, and, no offense, but I’m better at being in charge in this particular situation. So close your eyes.”
“No.”
Sawyer sighed, and he began to crawl up over Jack’s body, pulling his body along Jack’s, and Jack felt the heat from his damp skin and the hard press of his cock, obvious and electric even through the thick denim. The way he kissed him on the neck, his tongue lapping at his skin, made his whole body flutter in anticipation, even if he was still trying to seem calm. Then Sawyer said gently, his drawl slow and deep and taking on something like reverence, “I ain’t gonna hurt you. I wouldn’t hurt something I wanted this bad. You just gotta trust me, Doc. I’m a lot like you. I’m bossy as all holy hell, but I’m sweet, deep down.”
“You are not,” Jack mumbled, needing to sound angry but only succeeding in sounding pathetically needy.
Sawyer responded with a thrust of his hips, and Jack’s mouth was falling open with a gasp of helpless pleasure. He felt Sawyer’s breath on his face as his fingers pushed something into his mouth. He tasted the salt of Sawyer’s sweat as his fingers left his lips, and then the hard square object began to melt and dissolve and he could only groan.
Chocolate.
*****
Sawyer knew Jack would fight him on the sex. He had to. But he wouldn’t feel like giving in to the chocolate was such a dangerous thing. If he’d known it would be that easy to make Jack hot-if he knew all it took was a square of old hatch chocolate on his tongue-he would have done this ages ago just to see his face and feel his body do what it was doing. Jack allowed Sawyer to sink into him, invited it, warm thighs and stomachs and Sawyer’s lips falling on Jack’s neck. Jack’s jaw even relaxed, and soon Sawyer was kissing him, smelling the sugar before he tasted it, then feeling Jack’s mouth open to his and welcome his tongue. His mouth was hot and sticky and he tasted so good that Sawyer had to pull back before he forgot himself completely, forgot what he wanted to do to him. Not that his cock had forgotten, or that Jack’s had either. Jack’s legs opened even more, and his hips shoved up against Sawyer’s as his mouth struggled to capture Sawyer’s again, this time with a hard, sloppy kiss.
Reluctantly, Sawyer broke the kiss and began moving his mouth down Jack’s body. He wanted to taste all of him, and he reveled in the way Jack writhed as he sucked at his collarbone then traced a path down the center of his chest with his tongue. He took one nipple in his mouth, and Jack cursed, which only made Sawyer more eager to lap and bite. The closer he got to Jack’s cock, the more the man moaned at the feel of his tongue, flat and hard and so wet, dragging over his skin. Finally, Sawyer was pulling down his boxers and revealing his hard, pink cock, liquid already waiting at the head. Sawyer had never wanted to suck a man off so badly, to feel every inch of him with his tongue.
As his mouth slid over the soft skin at the head and Jack groaned, he felt a wave of arousal so strong he almost stopped right then and there and pulled out his cock to fuck Jack senseless or at least fist himself shamelessly. But he steadied himself and let his tongue swirl over Jack’s head, the musky smell of Jack’s body and taste of his semen making him too eager. He pulled up on Jack’s hips and took him all the way in, nearly choking on his length but getting off on the feel of his cock filling his mouth, the way Jack jerked against him, the moans he made that told Sawyer how close he already was. He fought not to gag as he felt Jack’s head brush the back of his throat, but he was so turned on by now that he simply sucked harder, making Jack moan longer and deeper until he was nearly begging.
“Oh God, fuck Sawyer, oh fuck, fuck, oh my God,” he groaned. Sawyer heard the clink of the handcuff against the bed frame as Jack wiggled and squirmed and thrust his hips up and into Sawyer’s mouth. “Please, God, please, so good, oh Jesus that’s-shit-oh shit-“ and he stopped making any noise at all as he came, and Sawyer swallowed down his come as it pulsed out of him, sucking him clean and listening to Jack’s breath return to him in gasps.
*****
When Jack’s eyes finally opened again, Sawyer was fumbling with the buttons on his pants, nearly unsuccessfully because he was so aroused. Jack wanted more than anything to have his hands free so he could ravage Sawyer in the way he’d just been taken, but Sawyer didn’t make a move to release him. As Sawyer slipped his jeans down over his hips, revealing his own cock, long and hard, Jack gazed at it hungrily until Sawyer was straddling him and feeding himself into his open mouth.
Sawyer held onto the bedframe as he used his hips to do the work. He didn’t force himself too deep, only allowing Jack to take him halfway in before he pulled back to feel Jack’s tongue push against his head again and again. Jack should have been sated from his own orgasm, but watching Sawyer’s hips move toward his face, his cock, rising up out of dark hair, sliding into his waiting mouth was enough to make him half hard again. When the jerk of Sawyer’s hips became more erratic, he felt Sawyer’s hands gripping and jerking the headboard until they were sliding down next to his, brushing them, and it frustrated him beyond belief that he couldn’t touch him like he wanted to. Except for his cock, so Jack put all his concentration into the movements of his tongue. With a final thrust into his mouth, Sawyer shouted his name, and Jack swallowed down the long, hot spurt of semen as his own body still reeled from hearing and feeling Sawyer’s orgasm.
Jack pulled off his cock, and Sawyer let go of the headboard, and collapsed on top of him with his face resting in the crook of Jack’s neck.
“Damn,” he muttered, still getting his breath back, shaking a little.
“Where in the hell did you get handcuffs?”
“Doesn’t matter. I got the key.”
“Fuck,” Jack said. “I hadn’t even thought about that.”
“I’d venture a guess that you weren’t thinking about much just now.”
“What in the hell was this about?”
Sawyer raised his head and smiled, but only half wickedly this time. He sat up and reached for his discarded pants and groped until he found the wrapped half of a candy bar in the pocket. Peeling back the foil, he snapped off a piece and offered it up to Jack’s lips. This time, he knew what it was, and his face relaxed into the taste of it, cold and sugary before it warmed to his mouth and he let out a long sigh of appreciation.
“That,” Sawyer said.
“That what?”
“That’s what it’s about: you looking satisfied that way.”
He reached up and Jack thought he was moving to let him go, but he simply settled his hands in Jack’s, fingers threading together, as he kissed him, licking the remains of the chocolate from his lips as his hips rocked gently against Jack’s. Then, in his ear, he said, “I told you I was sweet.”
“Don’t act like you didn’t get exactly what you wanted from me.”
With a grin, he tightened his grip on Jack’s hands. “Well, to be honest, exactly what I wanted was to fuck you hard until you didn’t have any more stress in your whole fucking body or any more reason to act like you don’t want me. But for that, I think I’d want you with your hands free.”
“You really get off on seeing me like this, don’t you?”
“Not as much as you think. These,” he said, rattling the handcuffs, “appeal to my contrary nature. What I get off on is you. Now, if this is what I have to suffer through to get you…”
Jack snorted and said, “What can I say to get you to believe you can let me go?”
“Just gotta say you want more.”
“You’re a fucking moron. Of course I want more.”
“Of me, not the chocolate,” he said, raising his eyebrows at Jack.
“Well, in that case,” Jack mumbled.
“Asshole.”
“I’m handcuffed to a bed, and I’m the asshole?”
“Do you want me?”
“Jesus Christ,” Jack grumbled. “Dumb, insecure dick. I want you. Now let me go.”
When Sawyer pulled the key out of his pants pocket, it was a relief, and when the hot metal released his wrists, it was wonderful. His stretched arms pulled back painfully to his chest as he rubbed his palms over his wrists, suddenly feeling self-conscious again. Sawyer took one red, painful wrist gently in his hand and examined it, mumbling, “Fuck, Doc. I didn’t mean…”
“Of course you did.”
“Jack…” He said, but he didn’t look at him.
“I’m not mad, Sawyer. Sore, but not mad.”
Sawyer planted a soft kiss on Jack’s wrist, grimacing at the pink marks crossing over the skin. “I just get impatient when I can’t have what I want.”
“Me too. Remember that next time you decide to give me a blow job and refuse to let me fucking touch you while you’re doing it.”
“Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing and give me some more chocolate.”
“You’re worse than a woman.”
Jack glared at him, but he waited patiently for Sawyer to break off another piece and bring it to his lips. Though his hands were free, it felt more natural now to let Sawyer do the work, take the lead. Jack accepted the chocolate greedily, as well as Sawyer’s fingers, letting them leave his lips slowly with a gentle suck, watching Sawyer’s face the whole time, the way his blue eyes darkened and his full lips parted. Despite his sweetness, the man who had handcuffed him was still there, dangerous and not too far from the surface. Jack found the idea even more intoxicating than the taste of chocolate followed by the slow push of Sawyer’s tongue into his mouth--open, waiting.
Pairing: Jack/Sawyer
Rating: NC-17
Summary: PWP. Handcuffs. Sorry for the hatch. Most convenient locale. There is no Recuperating!Sawyer crap, though, K?
Note: Post-"Collision," of necessity, and Pre-"The Long Con," just because that’s our new Sawyer personality marker. This is unbeta’d (as always), but I didn’t take a whole hell of a lot of time editing it myself either, so I apologize for any uneven spots or screw ups. DId this rather than schoolwork; gotta go back to the schoolwork now. :(
For ellel, whose random comment about my last story--asking to see Jack in handcuffs--spawned this. It’s not high on the Jack Snark, but I hope you like it anyway. At least it got my muse back to work again, for which I’m grateful.
The Only Way
Jack never slept. This was something Sawyer knew. He knew because he had spent a lot of time watching him, waiting for the right opening, the right time to claim Jack-because Jack wanted to be claimed. He saw it everyday in the deepness of his eyes, the hardness of his shoulders, the heavy stomp of his walk. Or else the days where he moved like one false step would send him over the edge to doing something he didn’t want to do. But Sawyer knew much better than Jack that he did want to do it-something unexpected, crazy, wild, open, hard, fast, overwhelming.
He also knew that this thing Jack wanted, that he needed, was him. That deep brown gaze stayed on his body too long, and those shoulders seemed to find ways to brush his, for that touch to linger even if it claimed to be aggressive or accidental. And his walk always got heavier when he was trying to get Sawyer to leave him alone. When Jack wasn’t finding excuses to touch Sawyer, he was desperate to get away from him. That was what made Sawyer the most crazy-this uncertainty in Jack’s mind and body, as if he would need to be coaxed, but once coaxed, he would give him something strong and powerful to make Sawyer glad he was this patient. Not that he had a choice in the matter. He had to have Jack. He had to have that combination of goodness and stubbornness, let himself be fucked by this haunted shell of a man who could turn that pain into control as quick as Sawyer would be able to slide a hand down over his crotch and make him respond.
So Sawyer waited. Jack would have to sleep sometime. And when he did, he was sure to sleep like the dead and be awakened like a man at the end of his rope who might go along with things he’d normally be too restrained to allow.
*****
In his nice comfortable cocoon-the bed in the hatch-Jack awoke at the sound of the snap as much as at the feel of it. It was a noise he’d heard before, back in the real world where he saw all sorts of patients come through the hospital, some of them not so nice. Some of them accompanied by a police officer, who stood guard, ready to remove or put on those heavy metal handcuffs that marked them as dangerous. Jack’s eyes had already slammed open now, and he didn’t have to be able to see his hands behind his head to know that he was wearing handcuffs, and if he wasn’t precisely dangerous, this situation was, and it was because he was staring up into the eyes of the only man on the island crazy enough to handcuff a person to a bed frame with a look of lust in his eyes that could make a person nearly lose his mind.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Jack said, hoping to keep that half-panicked squeal out of his voice.
“You.”
“Sawyer…”
But the man simply sat back on his haunches at Jack’s feet, watching him curiously, a smile playing over his face. As if being handcuffed wasn’t a vulnerable enough feeling, Jack was wearing nothing but his boxers. Sawyer was fully clothed in a white t-shirt and his worn jeans, and he seemed perfectly content to stare at Jack with looks that evaluated every inch of his skin, every taut curve of his legs and abs and chest. And the remarkable thing was the look on Sawyer’s face said he liked what he saw, said he couldn’t get enough of staring at Jack. This was sufficient confusion to allow Jack to keep quiet. He needed to wait him out, not betray his fear and uncertainty too much, and certainly not tug at the hard metal around his wrists that had already begun to dig into his skin, bruising him. Jack stared at him for the longest time-his eyes narrowed and spoke threats, Sawyer’s sparkled with lust and self-satisfaction-but neither of them said anything.
Finally, Sawyer moved, sliding his hands up the inside of Jack’s thighs so fast that Jack was startled, but not so startled that he didn’t feel those touches race like fire through his body and straight to his cock. As Sawyer’s hands traveled up and under his boxers, his thumbs settling on the sensitive flesh where his balls met the insides of his thighs, Jack watched helplessly as his cock hardened, aching for Sawyer’s hands to move. One of his fingers brushed the side of his cock, and he found his body stretching up and off the bed, his hips fighting toward his hand. But Sawyer withdrew his hands and smiled, sitting back again.
Jack said, “Take them off.”
Sawyer’s lazy drawl responded: “The boxers or the bracelets?”
“Fuck you, Sawyer. You know what I mean.”
“Fuck me, huh? Sure looks like that’s what you want, don’t it.”
“Let. Me. Go.”
Mocking, Sawyer replied, “No. Way. Jose. Close your eyes.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me! What the fuck is your problem?”
His patience finally giving way, Sawyer snapped, “I’m tired of living with a constant boner from being around your fucking tight ass body, knowing you won’t stop being such a pussy and touch me already. Jesus Christ, I know you want it,” he said, staring at Jack’s erection.
“Not like this,” Jack retorted.
The admission brought a wide smile to Sawyer’s face, and his easy control returned. “No. Exactly like this. Only way you’ll ever let me touch you is against your will. Otherwise, you’d have to be the bossy one, and, no offense, but I’m better at being in charge in this particular situation. So close your eyes.”
“No.”
Sawyer sighed, and he began to crawl up over Jack’s body, pulling his body along Jack’s, and Jack felt the heat from his damp skin and the hard press of his cock, obvious and electric even through the thick denim. The way he kissed him on the neck, his tongue lapping at his skin, made his whole body flutter in anticipation, even if he was still trying to seem calm. Then Sawyer said gently, his drawl slow and deep and taking on something like reverence, “I ain’t gonna hurt you. I wouldn’t hurt something I wanted this bad. You just gotta trust me, Doc. I’m a lot like you. I’m bossy as all holy hell, but I’m sweet, deep down.”
“You are not,” Jack mumbled, needing to sound angry but only succeeding in sounding pathetically needy.
Sawyer responded with a thrust of his hips, and Jack’s mouth was falling open with a gasp of helpless pleasure. He felt Sawyer’s breath on his face as his fingers pushed something into his mouth. He tasted the salt of Sawyer’s sweat as his fingers left his lips, and then the hard square object began to melt and dissolve and he could only groan.
Chocolate.
*****
Sawyer knew Jack would fight him on the sex. He had to. But he wouldn’t feel like giving in to the chocolate was such a dangerous thing. If he’d known it would be that easy to make Jack hot-if he knew all it took was a square of old hatch chocolate on his tongue-he would have done this ages ago just to see his face and feel his body do what it was doing. Jack allowed Sawyer to sink into him, invited it, warm thighs and stomachs and Sawyer’s lips falling on Jack’s neck. Jack’s jaw even relaxed, and soon Sawyer was kissing him, smelling the sugar before he tasted it, then feeling Jack’s mouth open to his and welcome his tongue. His mouth was hot and sticky and he tasted so good that Sawyer had to pull back before he forgot himself completely, forgot what he wanted to do to him. Not that his cock had forgotten, or that Jack’s had either. Jack’s legs opened even more, and his hips shoved up against Sawyer’s as his mouth struggled to capture Sawyer’s again, this time with a hard, sloppy kiss.
Reluctantly, Sawyer broke the kiss and began moving his mouth down Jack’s body. He wanted to taste all of him, and he reveled in the way Jack writhed as he sucked at his collarbone then traced a path down the center of his chest with his tongue. He took one nipple in his mouth, and Jack cursed, which only made Sawyer more eager to lap and bite. The closer he got to Jack’s cock, the more the man moaned at the feel of his tongue, flat and hard and so wet, dragging over his skin. Finally, Sawyer was pulling down his boxers and revealing his hard, pink cock, liquid already waiting at the head. Sawyer had never wanted to suck a man off so badly, to feel every inch of him with his tongue.
As his mouth slid over the soft skin at the head and Jack groaned, he felt a wave of arousal so strong he almost stopped right then and there and pulled out his cock to fuck Jack senseless or at least fist himself shamelessly. But he steadied himself and let his tongue swirl over Jack’s head, the musky smell of Jack’s body and taste of his semen making him too eager. He pulled up on Jack’s hips and took him all the way in, nearly choking on his length but getting off on the feel of his cock filling his mouth, the way Jack jerked against him, the moans he made that told Sawyer how close he already was. He fought not to gag as he felt Jack’s head brush the back of his throat, but he was so turned on by now that he simply sucked harder, making Jack moan longer and deeper until he was nearly begging.
“Oh God, fuck Sawyer, oh fuck, fuck, oh my God,” he groaned. Sawyer heard the clink of the handcuff against the bed frame as Jack wiggled and squirmed and thrust his hips up and into Sawyer’s mouth. “Please, God, please, so good, oh Jesus that’s-shit-oh shit-“ and he stopped making any noise at all as he came, and Sawyer swallowed down his come as it pulsed out of him, sucking him clean and listening to Jack’s breath return to him in gasps.
*****
When Jack’s eyes finally opened again, Sawyer was fumbling with the buttons on his pants, nearly unsuccessfully because he was so aroused. Jack wanted more than anything to have his hands free so he could ravage Sawyer in the way he’d just been taken, but Sawyer didn’t make a move to release him. As Sawyer slipped his jeans down over his hips, revealing his own cock, long and hard, Jack gazed at it hungrily until Sawyer was straddling him and feeding himself into his open mouth.
Sawyer held onto the bedframe as he used his hips to do the work. He didn’t force himself too deep, only allowing Jack to take him halfway in before he pulled back to feel Jack’s tongue push against his head again and again. Jack should have been sated from his own orgasm, but watching Sawyer’s hips move toward his face, his cock, rising up out of dark hair, sliding into his waiting mouth was enough to make him half hard again. When the jerk of Sawyer’s hips became more erratic, he felt Sawyer’s hands gripping and jerking the headboard until they were sliding down next to his, brushing them, and it frustrated him beyond belief that he couldn’t touch him like he wanted to. Except for his cock, so Jack put all his concentration into the movements of his tongue. With a final thrust into his mouth, Sawyer shouted his name, and Jack swallowed down the long, hot spurt of semen as his own body still reeled from hearing and feeling Sawyer’s orgasm.
Jack pulled off his cock, and Sawyer let go of the headboard, and collapsed on top of him with his face resting in the crook of Jack’s neck.
“Damn,” he muttered, still getting his breath back, shaking a little.
“Where in the hell did you get handcuffs?”
“Doesn’t matter. I got the key.”
“Fuck,” Jack said. “I hadn’t even thought about that.”
“I’d venture a guess that you weren’t thinking about much just now.”
“What in the hell was this about?”
Sawyer raised his head and smiled, but only half wickedly this time. He sat up and reached for his discarded pants and groped until he found the wrapped half of a candy bar in the pocket. Peeling back the foil, he snapped off a piece and offered it up to Jack’s lips. This time, he knew what it was, and his face relaxed into the taste of it, cold and sugary before it warmed to his mouth and he let out a long sigh of appreciation.
“That,” Sawyer said.
“That what?”
“That’s what it’s about: you looking satisfied that way.”
He reached up and Jack thought he was moving to let him go, but he simply settled his hands in Jack’s, fingers threading together, as he kissed him, licking the remains of the chocolate from his lips as his hips rocked gently against Jack’s. Then, in his ear, he said, “I told you I was sweet.”
“Don’t act like you didn’t get exactly what you wanted from me.”
With a grin, he tightened his grip on Jack’s hands. “Well, to be honest, exactly what I wanted was to fuck you hard until you didn’t have any more stress in your whole fucking body or any more reason to act like you don’t want me. But for that, I think I’d want you with your hands free.”
“You really get off on seeing me like this, don’t you?”
“Not as much as you think. These,” he said, rattling the handcuffs, “appeal to my contrary nature. What I get off on is you. Now, if this is what I have to suffer through to get you…”
Jack snorted and said, “What can I say to get you to believe you can let me go?”
“Just gotta say you want more.”
“You’re a fucking moron. Of course I want more.”
“Of me, not the chocolate,” he said, raising his eyebrows at Jack.
“Well, in that case,” Jack mumbled.
“Asshole.”
“I’m handcuffed to a bed, and I’m the asshole?”
“Do you want me?”
“Jesus Christ,” Jack grumbled. “Dumb, insecure dick. I want you. Now let me go.”
When Sawyer pulled the key out of his pants pocket, it was a relief, and when the hot metal released his wrists, it was wonderful. His stretched arms pulled back painfully to his chest as he rubbed his palms over his wrists, suddenly feeling self-conscious again. Sawyer took one red, painful wrist gently in his hand and examined it, mumbling, “Fuck, Doc. I didn’t mean…”
“Of course you did.”
“Jack…” He said, but he didn’t look at him.
“I’m not mad, Sawyer. Sore, but not mad.”
Sawyer planted a soft kiss on Jack’s wrist, grimacing at the pink marks crossing over the skin. “I just get impatient when I can’t have what I want.”
“Me too. Remember that next time you decide to give me a blow job and refuse to let me fucking touch you while you’re doing it.”
“Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing and give me some more chocolate.”
“You’re worse than a woman.”
Jack glared at him, but he waited patiently for Sawyer to break off another piece and bring it to his lips. Though his hands were free, it felt more natural now to let Sawyer do the work, take the lead. Jack accepted the chocolate greedily, as well as Sawyer’s fingers, letting them leave his lips slowly with a gentle suck, watching Sawyer’s face the whole time, the way his blue eyes darkened and his full lips parted. Despite his sweetness, the man who had handcuffed him was still there, dangerous and not too far from the surface. Jack found the idea even more intoxicating than the taste of chocolate followed by the slow push of Sawyer’s tongue into his mouth--open, waiting.