Fic: Give and Take
For the good folks who answered my poll…
Title: Give and Take (sequel to The Only Way)
Pairing: Jack/Sawyer
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Going with the idea that Jack sorta likes being submissive for Sawyer. I will warn y’all that this is a little darker than the first story, more intense. But I gotta follow my muse, and this is still in general a happy, well-adjusted piece of smut.
Note: holycitygirl wanted a sequel, and I like to make my new friends happy. :D
I’ve been kicking this around in my head since her comment, but it’s only been on the screen for a couple of days. I just don’t have the patience to pour over my smut until it’s perfect (that just makes me feel worse and worse about it until I think it’s not hot and get insecure about posting it). I hope I didn’t make too many flubs.
Give and Take
Jack was gone for two days. They were the longest two days of Sawyer’s life. At first, he thought maybe Jack had freaked out on him. Maybe he decided he wasn’t okay with being handcuffed to a bed and liking it. Sawyer was still surprised by it, still adjusting to Jack’s need to be dominated. But he was willing to go with it, because there had been no mistake about what was going on between them. Jack had looked at Sawyer like he would do anything he wanted, and dammit if Sawyer hadn’t wanted to do just about anything to make him harder, hotter, crazier, more satisfied. Even if Jack had delusions stronger than any normal man could maintain, this one was gone, permanently. Sawyer was sure. Jack would not-could not-act like he didn’t want him anymore.
But, still, he was gone for two days, hiking around the island with Ana Lucia, and it made Sawyer insane. The woman wanted Jack, and it sickened him to think she was out there, bonding over this army bullshit with him, sliding that small, tight body closer and closer to him until he gave in. Jack liked bossy; Sawyer saw that now. Maybe he wasn’t particular about who it was doing the bossing. Maybe he’d taken what Sawyer gave him readily enough without thinking about it as coming from Sawyer.
So for two days, Sawyer’s head swam with guesses and second-guesses and paranoia, and a jealousy like he hadn’t experienced in a long time and never thought he’d feel with Jack. He had been so sure before, and now he wasn’t. There was Ana Lucia, all dark eyes and toughness. There was Jack letting himself go with her. There was Jack maybe lying through his fucking teeth about wanting Sawyer, just to get away so he could go into the jungle with the bitch and get what he really wanted. If Sawyer had been slightly bothered by Jack’s flirtation with Kate, he was now to the point of rage about his mysterious camaraderie with Ana Lucia. And the worst part was, he knew that there was no real reason to worry. He’d had to tie Jack up to get him to give it up. Ana Lucia was stubborn, but she wasn’t nearly as fucking determined as Sawyer, or half as charming. Sawyer knew that all his wondering and fearing wasn’t real-it was just a symptom of something he should have already known: he fucking needed Jack.
It wasn’t just sex. Planning his bondage ambush, he had thought it was. Seeing Jack take him in his mouth was lust and heat enough to fuel his fantasies for a very long time. Knowing that he was forcing Jack and that, at the same time, Jack was giving it to him-it was enough to make his head spin, really; make him flushed and dizzy. The remarkable thing was how Sawyer could still feel the muscles in Jack’s arms straining against the handcuffs, just like he could feel the veins in Jack wrist, hot under his lips, as he tried to soften the pain. Sawyer had never had a more contradictory or more fascinating set of impulses in his life-to control, to protect; to hurt, to love; to take, to give. It gave him a headache. It made him resent Jack’s absence. And it made him morose until Jack and Ana Lucia materialized that second evening, all smiles, sweaty like they’d been in the jungle fucking and making a mockery of Sawyer’s feelings. Not that he could put a finger on what those feelings were-but they were true and right and certainly more important than whatever Queen Bitch’s aspirations were to get her hands on Jack’s dick, probably to drag him around the island like a fucking pet. He hated the thought that Jack would be anybody’s pet, except maybe his. And he did not want Jack docile without first having the fire.
Not a quarter of an hour after Jack returned and said hello to everybody, Jack was filling up his water bottle at the cave-side watering hole. Sawyer stalked up to him.
“Where have you been?”
“I’d think by now you would know,” Jack said calmly, meeting his gaze without betraying any hint of lust, certainly nothing like the fire that raced through Sawyer’s veins, primed for sex or violence, either one as good as the other.
“You couldn’t fucking tell me you were going?”
“It’s not that big a deal. I was gone two days. Your arm is fine now, and-“
“You know this ain’t about my arm,” he said through gritted teeth.
“What’s the problem, Sawyer?” His tone was as close to patronizing as Jack ever dared with him.
Sawyer stepped closer, saying, “I was worried.”
Jack’s face quirked into a smile, but it was not an easy one. It hid something, Sawyer didn’t know what. “What? Did you think somebody might tie me up without you there to take advantage?”
Sawyer was unable to move, so he watched Jack saunter off into the trees, into the shadowy twilight of the jungle. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t this casual mention of what Sawyer considered some of the best sex of his life. After a minute or so, he followed him, his heart pounding like a hammer through his body.
He called out to Jack’s retreating back, “You scared of me now or something?”
“No, Sawyer,” Jack said. “You gave me the handcuffs, if you’ll remember.”
“But I have the key. And I’m still faster and stronger than you.”
“I don’t know what your problem is, but-“
“Don’t act like you don’t know what the fuck I’m following you for!”
“What, Sawyer?” he said. Every time he said his name, it added this slow, sensual, knowing sort of coda to whatever flippant or condescending thing he’s just said. Jack was taunting him, now that he wasn’t stuck in that hatch bed, at Sawyer’s mercy. Sawyer quickened his pace until he was behind Jack, throwing his arms around him from behind, pinning Jack’s arms to his sides.
“You want it, Doc,” he whispered in his ear roughly.
“If I want it so bad, why haven’t I come after it?” he said, his body stiffening against Sawyer’s.
Sawyer stroked his hand down and over Jack’s crotch, and he growled as he found Jack’s cock was already hard, and Jack was already breathing fast enough to belie his earlier nonchalance. Sawyer said, “You are afraid of me, Doc.”
“What makes you think you can treat me like this?”
“Precedent,” he replied. “But if you’re suddenly too fucking afraid...” Sawyer let him go then, standing stock still and waiting for Jack to turn around and argue with him, but he didn’t. He simply walked on into the jungle, so slowly, confidently, that Sawyer couldn’t stop himself. Grabbing him by his shirt, he pushed Jack against the nearest tree. Jack’s back hit with a thud, and he let out a gasp. Sawyer was soon in his face, feeling the man’s breath, smelling the smell of him, and it was the smell of sex. Everything about Jack screamed sex to him-sex wanted, needed-and Sawyer knew he had been absolutely right about Jack, maybe simply underestimating his ability to be stubborn. He opened his mouth to say something to that effect, but then he saw that look that passed over Jack’s face. It was absolutely feral and desperate at the same time. He looked both hungry and relieved. Jack closed his eyes and Sawyer mumbled, “Fuck, Doc. You want it, don’t you?”
“God,” Jack said, leaning his forehead into Sawyer’s, his breath now a pant. “Yes.”
Sawyer pulled his face away and looked him in the eyes, mesmerized for a moment by how deep brown they were. “How bad? How long?”
“So long. Always,” he mumbled, pulling his lips toward Sawyer’s face, hovering there.
“Tell me why I should touch you.”
“I need you, Sawyer.” This time, his name was a different sort of coda, a shock of heat that seemed to bypass his hearing and shoot straight to his cock. “Now,” Jack added.
”You left me,” Sawyer growled in reply.
“I know.”
“You should be sorry.”
Jack’s hips bucked into his. “Fuck. Make me sorry.”
Jack’s lips strained in anticipation toward his-his whole body begging for Sawyer but waiting for him to make the move. Sawyer slid his tongue into that hot, wet mouth, and as Jack responded, as he opened his mouth and his hips to Sawyer’s assault, it all came together in Sawyer’s brain-so fast he almost fucked it all up and said something that sounded like surprise and amazement and his own surrender.
*****
It shouldn’t have felt so good. Jack had spent two days hard up and miserable, but he kept to his purpose. It had to be done. He thought leaving camp would be easier, but it wasn’t. He lay a few feet from Ana Lucia, hearing her breathe, thinking about Sawyer, desperate to jerk off, knowing that even doing that would be unsatisfying. He was dizzy with desire as he ran through his plan again, seeing the future. But it couldn’t compare to the reality of making Sawyer hard and needy and most of all angry. Nothing in the world was better than Sawyer’s soft, full lips pulling at his own and sucking them raw. Sawyer’s body pinned his into the trunk of the tree, and he felt absolutely owned. And this time, he could even use his arms to fight against it, to make Sawyer push harder and kiss deeper, to make Sawyer rock his body into his cock with such force that it almost hurt.
Sawyer scraped his teeth along Jack’s shoulder. “You can’t fucking run off like that without telling me.”
“You don’t own me,” he mumbled, nearly unsuccessfully because his head was falling back against the tree with the feel of Sawyer’s mouth along his collarbone.
“Oh yes I fucking do. You belong to me. You got that? You come and go when I say so.” Sawyer was forcing down his zipper, and the feel of his hand brushing over his boxers, over his cock, made Jack weak. He decided it was probably time to be weak anyway.
“Say you’re mine,” Sawyer said.
“Yours. God, yes.”
“You want me so bad you’d do anything right now, wouldn’t you?”
“Anything,” he said, and Sawyer’s rough hand plunged into his boxers and closed around his cock.
“What if I want you to suck me off?”
“Yes.”
“What if I want you on all fours, shoving my cock up your ass, making you scream?”
“Please.”
Sawyer’s other hand shook as his slipped it around the back of his neck. Jack thought he saw something in Sawyer start to crack and break, but he steadied himself with a long, wet kiss on Jack’s mouth. He pulled back, those blue eyes so dark in the diminishing light of evening, and said, “Tell me you want it,” and he gave Jack’s cock a squeeze.
Jack was tired of all the talking, impatient with the inadequacy of words. In answer, he pulled Sawyer to him, the tension in his arms reverberating up and through Sawyer’s body, making him hold Jack tighter. He saw a darkness now in Sawyer’s whole face, and then he was pulling him from the tree, pushing him onto his knees, forcing his jeans down his hips, and telling him to get on his hands and knees. Jack’s arms and legs trembled with anticipation as he heard a rustle of clothes and then felt Sawyer’s finger slide into his entrance. After another finger, there was a pause as Sawyer spit into his hands and coated his cock the best he could. As soon as Sawyer’s cock was brushing his asshole, Jack was shoving backward, feeling Sawyer fill him, hearing him curse before he started his fast thrusts.
Jack’s cock hung between his legs untouched as Sawyer grunted and thrust into him, sometimes cursing him-all because of his two day absence from the camp. Jack knew this anger was part of the game, but it was also real. Jack’s trickery only worked because it really did make Sawyer horny and worried, incensed at his loss of control. But Jack gave it all back to him, moving his hips with the tug of Sawyer’s hands, accepting him deeper and deeper until Sawyer was slowing down, fucking him harder. His fingers dug into Jack’s hips, maybe hard enough to leave bruises, and Jack knew that he was close. So Jack begged him, told him how bad he needed it-how bad he’d wanted it for the entire fucking two days he’d been hiding in the jungle from a need like this, which was all too true-and then Sawyer thrust into him and came with a shudder.
Sawyer pulled out and watched with gasps of breath as Jack turned himself over and lay on his back, almost as spent as Sawyer. Sawyer’s eyes tried to focus on his face, squinting at him through the almost darkness, but they kept closing, against what Jack wasn’t sure. Jack thought maybe he should be asking Sawyer for what he wanted, and he was prepared to ask in whatever way he needed to that would relieve the deep ache in his body, made visible by his still-hard, now painful, cock. But all of a sudden, Sawyer was on his stomach between Jack’s legs, taking him in so fast he bucked up with his hips, making Sawyer grip his waist, digging his thumbs into the flesh about Jack’s hipbones. Fiercely, his breath hot against Jack’s cock, he said, “Don’t you fucking move. Not your hips, your arms, your legs, nothing. You got that?”
“Fuck, yes,” he replied, waiting for the assault, but there was none. Sawyer simply let go of his hips and moved slowly, gently to take him in again, sucking his cock softly and leisurely and letting his hands roam over Jack’s sweat-slick body. One hand traced patterns along his thigh before he teased at his asshole, still sensitive. The other pushed up and over his stomach and took hold of a nipple, tweaking it lightly. It felt astoundingly good, but it wasn’t enough.
“Oh, God,” he moaned. “Harder. Please-shit-fuck-oh, fuck. Make me come. Please, Sawyer, make me come.” Sawyer’s mouth came alive then, but no so much with pressure as intensity; his tongue traced a path along the underside of his cock until he came to the head, and he stayed there, sucking and swirling his tongue until Jack was whimpering, and then he took him all the way in. Suddenly, all the sensation in his body rushed to where Sawyer’s mouth was on him, and as he felt Sawyer swallow him, he came, his whole body writhing with it, with an explosive heat that seemed to course through him erratically even as Sawyer’s mouth still worked him. The world seemed to disappear for a moment, blink away into a swift, enveloping blackness, then he was feeling his body sinking limp into the ground and Sawyer’s fingers stroking his stomach and kneading the soft flesh of his inner thigh.
Sawyer lay his head on Jack’s thigh, and he was quiet for a long time. Then he mumbled, “This would be easier if you would just say this is what you want, instead of doing stubborn things like taking hiking trips just to piss me off.”
“I just don’t see how…”
“Ain’t much gotta change. People would worry if you started acting all soft. Be pig-headed and bossy like you always are, and it’ll be a good excuse for me to throw you down and fuck your brains out again, like this. Or, hell, you come crawling into my tent with those handcuffs, and I think I can put them to use. It can always be like this-us together, alone, being like this with each other-if you want it to be. It can be real and good without being… this real.”
Sawyer’s voice had grown serious, and not in some grave, fake bossy way. This was one of those fleeting moments they sometimes shared of complete, if not grudging, reciprocity.
Jack asked, “Is that what you want?”
“It works,” he said. “Yeah. It works pretty well for me.”
Jack said, “You’ve done this before.”
“No. Not exactly.”
“What?”
“I once met a woman who liked to show me how much she was in charge of me, and with as many props as she could get her hands on. So I’ve been where you are. Don’t forget that.” He turned his head and looked Jack in the eyes. “You gotta believe I know what you want, what you need.”
Jack simply nodded, because saying he trusted Sawyer was not what this situation required, even if that was the real question hanging between them. Of course he trusted him to know what Jack needed and to give it to him. The particulars…well, Jack had no idea what Sawyer was capable of, what he might consider fair game. But perhaps that was the point.
“Come here,” Sawyer said, pulling himself into a sitting position, then tugging at Jack’s arms. “Let’s get you off your back.”
He settled himself against the tree and pulled Jack to him. Jack let his lower back sink into Sawyer’s stomach as his arms draped over Sawyer’s legs, and he dropped his head forward while Sawyer’s hands went to work over his scalp. Jack felt warm and somehow safe under Sawyer’s care. The muscles he’d stretched while they were fucking began to release, and Jack gave himself permission to relax, body and mind, because both were now thoroughly exhausted.
“Damn fool idiot,” Sawyer mumbled.
“Umm hmm.”
“You’d never let her touch you, would you?” he asked.
Sawyer’s hand stopped moving at the question, and Jack thought about it for a moment. He finally said, “I don’t know,” which was not in the least bit true.
“No. You wouldn’t,” he said, his voice halfway between a growl and a soothing murmur. Then it turned smooth and seductive, with an undertone of ferocity that made Jack shiver: “There ain’t nothing she can give you better than what I can.”
Jack smiled as Sawyer’s thumbs dug into the tight muscles of his neck. He thought, fuck no.
Title: Give and Take (sequel to The Only Way)
Pairing: Jack/Sawyer
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Going with the idea that Jack sorta likes being submissive for Sawyer. I will warn y’all that this is a little darker than the first story, more intense. But I gotta follow my muse, and this is still in general a happy, well-adjusted piece of smut.
Note: holycitygirl wanted a sequel, and I like to make my new friends happy. :D
I’ve been kicking this around in my head since her comment, but it’s only been on the screen for a couple of days. I just don’t have the patience to pour over my smut until it’s perfect (that just makes me feel worse and worse about it until I think it’s not hot and get insecure about posting it). I hope I didn’t make too many flubs.
Give and Take
Jack was gone for two days. They were the longest two days of Sawyer’s life. At first, he thought maybe Jack had freaked out on him. Maybe he decided he wasn’t okay with being handcuffed to a bed and liking it. Sawyer was still surprised by it, still adjusting to Jack’s need to be dominated. But he was willing to go with it, because there had been no mistake about what was going on between them. Jack had looked at Sawyer like he would do anything he wanted, and dammit if Sawyer hadn’t wanted to do just about anything to make him harder, hotter, crazier, more satisfied. Even if Jack had delusions stronger than any normal man could maintain, this one was gone, permanently. Sawyer was sure. Jack would not-could not-act like he didn’t want him anymore.
But, still, he was gone for two days, hiking around the island with Ana Lucia, and it made Sawyer insane. The woman wanted Jack, and it sickened him to think she was out there, bonding over this army bullshit with him, sliding that small, tight body closer and closer to him until he gave in. Jack liked bossy; Sawyer saw that now. Maybe he wasn’t particular about who it was doing the bossing. Maybe he’d taken what Sawyer gave him readily enough without thinking about it as coming from Sawyer.
So for two days, Sawyer’s head swam with guesses and second-guesses and paranoia, and a jealousy like he hadn’t experienced in a long time and never thought he’d feel with Jack. He had been so sure before, and now he wasn’t. There was Ana Lucia, all dark eyes and toughness. There was Jack letting himself go with her. There was Jack maybe lying through his fucking teeth about wanting Sawyer, just to get away so he could go into the jungle with the bitch and get what he really wanted. If Sawyer had been slightly bothered by Jack’s flirtation with Kate, he was now to the point of rage about his mysterious camaraderie with Ana Lucia. And the worst part was, he knew that there was no real reason to worry. He’d had to tie Jack up to get him to give it up. Ana Lucia was stubborn, but she wasn’t nearly as fucking determined as Sawyer, or half as charming. Sawyer knew that all his wondering and fearing wasn’t real-it was just a symptom of something he should have already known: he fucking needed Jack.
It wasn’t just sex. Planning his bondage ambush, he had thought it was. Seeing Jack take him in his mouth was lust and heat enough to fuel his fantasies for a very long time. Knowing that he was forcing Jack and that, at the same time, Jack was giving it to him-it was enough to make his head spin, really; make him flushed and dizzy. The remarkable thing was how Sawyer could still feel the muscles in Jack’s arms straining against the handcuffs, just like he could feel the veins in Jack wrist, hot under his lips, as he tried to soften the pain. Sawyer had never had a more contradictory or more fascinating set of impulses in his life-to control, to protect; to hurt, to love; to take, to give. It gave him a headache. It made him resent Jack’s absence. And it made him morose until Jack and Ana Lucia materialized that second evening, all smiles, sweaty like they’d been in the jungle fucking and making a mockery of Sawyer’s feelings. Not that he could put a finger on what those feelings were-but they were true and right and certainly more important than whatever Queen Bitch’s aspirations were to get her hands on Jack’s dick, probably to drag him around the island like a fucking pet. He hated the thought that Jack would be anybody’s pet, except maybe his. And he did not want Jack docile without first having the fire.
Not a quarter of an hour after Jack returned and said hello to everybody, Jack was filling up his water bottle at the cave-side watering hole. Sawyer stalked up to him.
“Where have you been?”
“I’d think by now you would know,” Jack said calmly, meeting his gaze without betraying any hint of lust, certainly nothing like the fire that raced through Sawyer’s veins, primed for sex or violence, either one as good as the other.
“You couldn’t fucking tell me you were going?”
“It’s not that big a deal. I was gone two days. Your arm is fine now, and-“
“You know this ain’t about my arm,” he said through gritted teeth.
“What’s the problem, Sawyer?” His tone was as close to patronizing as Jack ever dared with him.
Sawyer stepped closer, saying, “I was worried.”
Jack’s face quirked into a smile, but it was not an easy one. It hid something, Sawyer didn’t know what. “What? Did you think somebody might tie me up without you there to take advantage?”
Sawyer was unable to move, so he watched Jack saunter off into the trees, into the shadowy twilight of the jungle. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t this casual mention of what Sawyer considered some of the best sex of his life. After a minute or so, he followed him, his heart pounding like a hammer through his body.
He called out to Jack’s retreating back, “You scared of me now or something?”
“No, Sawyer,” Jack said. “You gave me the handcuffs, if you’ll remember.”
“But I have the key. And I’m still faster and stronger than you.”
“I don’t know what your problem is, but-“
“Don’t act like you don’t know what the fuck I’m following you for!”
“What, Sawyer?” he said. Every time he said his name, it added this slow, sensual, knowing sort of coda to whatever flippant or condescending thing he’s just said. Jack was taunting him, now that he wasn’t stuck in that hatch bed, at Sawyer’s mercy. Sawyer quickened his pace until he was behind Jack, throwing his arms around him from behind, pinning Jack’s arms to his sides.
“You want it, Doc,” he whispered in his ear roughly.
“If I want it so bad, why haven’t I come after it?” he said, his body stiffening against Sawyer’s.
Sawyer stroked his hand down and over Jack’s crotch, and he growled as he found Jack’s cock was already hard, and Jack was already breathing fast enough to belie his earlier nonchalance. Sawyer said, “You are afraid of me, Doc.”
“What makes you think you can treat me like this?”
“Precedent,” he replied. “But if you’re suddenly too fucking afraid...” Sawyer let him go then, standing stock still and waiting for Jack to turn around and argue with him, but he didn’t. He simply walked on into the jungle, so slowly, confidently, that Sawyer couldn’t stop himself. Grabbing him by his shirt, he pushed Jack against the nearest tree. Jack’s back hit with a thud, and he let out a gasp. Sawyer was soon in his face, feeling the man’s breath, smelling the smell of him, and it was the smell of sex. Everything about Jack screamed sex to him-sex wanted, needed-and Sawyer knew he had been absolutely right about Jack, maybe simply underestimating his ability to be stubborn. He opened his mouth to say something to that effect, but then he saw that look that passed over Jack’s face. It was absolutely feral and desperate at the same time. He looked both hungry and relieved. Jack closed his eyes and Sawyer mumbled, “Fuck, Doc. You want it, don’t you?”
“God,” Jack said, leaning his forehead into Sawyer’s, his breath now a pant. “Yes.”
Sawyer pulled his face away and looked him in the eyes, mesmerized for a moment by how deep brown they were. “How bad? How long?”
“So long. Always,” he mumbled, pulling his lips toward Sawyer’s face, hovering there.
“Tell me why I should touch you.”
“I need you, Sawyer.” This time, his name was a different sort of coda, a shock of heat that seemed to bypass his hearing and shoot straight to his cock. “Now,” Jack added.
”You left me,” Sawyer growled in reply.
“I know.”
“You should be sorry.”
Jack’s hips bucked into his. “Fuck. Make me sorry.”
Jack’s lips strained in anticipation toward his-his whole body begging for Sawyer but waiting for him to make the move. Sawyer slid his tongue into that hot, wet mouth, and as Jack responded, as he opened his mouth and his hips to Sawyer’s assault, it all came together in Sawyer’s brain-so fast he almost fucked it all up and said something that sounded like surprise and amazement and his own surrender.
*****
It shouldn’t have felt so good. Jack had spent two days hard up and miserable, but he kept to his purpose. It had to be done. He thought leaving camp would be easier, but it wasn’t. He lay a few feet from Ana Lucia, hearing her breathe, thinking about Sawyer, desperate to jerk off, knowing that even doing that would be unsatisfying. He was dizzy with desire as he ran through his plan again, seeing the future. But it couldn’t compare to the reality of making Sawyer hard and needy and most of all angry. Nothing in the world was better than Sawyer’s soft, full lips pulling at his own and sucking them raw. Sawyer’s body pinned his into the trunk of the tree, and he felt absolutely owned. And this time, he could even use his arms to fight against it, to make Sawyer push harder and kiss deeper, to make Sawyer rock his body into his cock with such force that it almost hurt.
Sawyer scraped his teeth along Jack’s shoulder. “You can’t fucking run off like that without telling me.”
“You don’t own me,” he mumbled, nearly unsuccessfully because his head was falling back against the tree with the feel of Sawyer’s mouth along his collarbone.
“Oh yes I fucking do. You belong to me. You got that? You come and go when I say so.” Sawyer was forcing down his zipper, and the feel of his hand brushing over his boxers, over his cock, made Jack weak. He decided it was probably time to be weak anyway.
“Say you’re mine,” Sawyer said.
“Yours. God, yes.”
“You want me so bad you’d do anything right now, wouldn’t you?”
“Anything,” he said, and Sawyer’s rough hand plunged into his boxers and closed around his cock.
“What if I want you to suck me off?”
“Yes.”
“What if I want you on all fours, shoving my cock up your ass, making you scream?”
“Please.”
Sawyer’s other hand shook as his slipped it around the back of his neck. Jack thought he saw something in Sawyer start to crack and break, but he steadied himself with a long, wet kiss on Jack’s mouth. He pulled back, those blue eyes so dark in the diminishing light of evening, and said, “Tell me you want it,” and he gave Jack’s cock a squeeze.
Jack was tired of all the talking, impatient with the inadequacy of words. In answer, he pulled Sawyer to him, the tension in his arms reverberating up and through Sawyer’s body, making him hold Jack tighter. He saw a darkness now in Sawyer’s whole face, and then he was pulling him from the tree, pushing him onto his knees, forcing his jeans down his hips, and telling him to get on his hands and knees. Jack’s arms and legs trembled with anticipation as he heard a rustle of clothes and then felt Sawyer’s finger slide into his entrance. After another finger, there was a pause as Sawyer spit into his hands and coated his cock the best he could. As soon as Sawyer’s cock was brushing his asshole, Jack was shoving backward, feeling Sawyer fill him, hearing him curse before he started his fast thrusts.
Jack’s cock hung between his legs untouched as Sawyer grunted and thrust into him, sometimes cursing him-all because of his two day absence from the camp. Jack knew this anger was part of the game, but it was also real. Jack’s trickery only worked because it really did make Sawyer horny and worried, incensed at his loss of control. But Jack gave it all back to him, moving his hips with the tug of Sawyer’s hands, accepting him deeper and deeper until Sawyer was slowing down, fucking him harder. His fingers dug into Jack’s hips, maybe hard enough to leave bruises, and Jack knew that he was close. So Jack begged him, told him how bad he needed it-how bad he’d wanted it for the entire fucking two days he’d been hiding in the jungle from a need like this, which was all too true-and then Sawyer thrust into him and came with a shudder.
Sawyer pulled out and watched with gasps of breath as Jack turned himself over and lay on his back, almost as spent as Sawyer. Sawyer’s eyes tried to focus on his face, squinting at him through the almost darkness, but they kept closing, against what Jack wasn’t sure. Jack thought maybe he should be asking Sawyer for what he wanted, and he was prepared to ask in whatever way he needed to that would relieve the deep ache in his body, made visible by his still-hard, now painful, cock. But all of a sudden, Sawyer was on his stomach between Jack’s legs, taking him in so fast he bucked up with his hips, making Sawyer grip his waist, digging his thumbs into the flesh about Jack’s hipbones. Fiercely, his breath hot against Jack’s cock, he said, “Don’t you fucking move. Not your hips, your arms, your legs, nothing. You got that?”
“Fuck, yes,” he replied, waiting for the assault, but there was none. Sawyer simply let go of his hips and moved slowly, gently to take him in again, sucking his cock softly and leisurely and letting his hands roam over Jack’s sweat-slick body. One hand traced patterns along his thigh before he teased at his asshole, still sensitive. The other pushed up and over his stomach and took hold of a nipple, tweaking it lightly. It felt astoundingly good, but it wasn’t enough.
“Oh, God,” he moaned. “Harder. Please-shit-fuck-oh, fuck. Make me come. Please, Sawyer, make me come.” Sawyer’s mouth came alive then, but no so much with pressure as intensity; his tongue traced a path along the underside of his cock until he came to the head, and he stayed there, sucking and swirling his tongue until Jack was whimpering, and then he took him all the way in. Suddenly, all the sensation in his body rushed to where Sawyer’s mouth was on him, and as he felt Sawyer swallow him, he came, his whole body writhing with it, with an explosive heat that seemed to course through him erratically even as Sawyer’s mouth still worked him. The world seemed to disappear for a moment, blink away into a swift, enveloping blackness, then he was feeling his body sinking limp into the ground and Sawyer’s fingers stroking his stomach and kneading the soft flesh of his inner thigh.
Sawyer lay his head on Jack’s thigh, and he was quiet for a long time. Then he mumbled, “This would be easier if you would just say this is what you want, instead of doing stubborn things like taking hiking trips just to piss me off.”
“I just don’t see how…”
“Ain’t much gotta change. People would worry if you started acting all soft. Be pig-headed and bossy like you always are, and it’ll be a good excuse for me to throw you down and fuck your brains out again, like this. Or, hell, you come crawling into my tent with those handcuffs, and I think I can put them to use. It can always be like this-us together, alone, being like this with each other-if you want it to be. It can be real and good without being… this real.”
Sawyer’s voice had grown serious, and not in some grave, fake bossy way. This was one of those fleeting moments they sometimes shared of complete, if not grudging, reciprocity.
Jack asked, “Is that what you want?”
“It works,” he said. “Yeah. It works pretty well for me.”
Jack said, “You’ve done this before.”
“No. Not exactly.”
“What?”
“I once met a woman who liked to show me how much she was in charge of me, and with as many props as she could get her hands on. So I’ve been where you are. Don’t forget that.” He turned his head and looked Jack in the eyes. “You gotta believe I know what you want, what you need.”
Jack simply nodded, because saying he trusted Sawyer was not what this situation required, even if that was the real question hanging between them. Of course he trusted him to know what Jack needed and to give it to him. The particulars…well, Jack had no idea what Sawyer was capable of, what he might consider fair game. But perhaps that was the point.
“Come here,” Sawyer said, pulling himself into a sitting position, then tugging at Jack’s arms. “Let’s get you off your back.”
He settled himself against the tree and pulled Jack to him. Jack let his lower back sink into Sawyer’s stomach as his arms draped over Sawyer’s legs, and he dropped his head forward while Sawyer’s hands went to work over his scalp. Jack felt warm and somehow safe under Sawyer’s care. The muscles he’d stretched while they were fucking began to release, and Jack gave himself permission to relax, body and mind, because both were now thoroughly exhausted.
“Damn fool idiot,” Sawyer mumbled.
“Umm hmm.”
“You’d never let her touch you, would you?” he asked.
Sawyer’s hand stopped moving at the question, and Jack thought about it for a moment. He finally said, “I don’t know,” which was not in the least bit true.
“No. You wouldn’t,” he said, his voice halfway between a growl and a soothing murmur. Then it turned smooth and seductive, with an undertone of ferocity that made Jack shiver: “There ain’t nothing she can give you better than what I can.”
Jack smiled as Sawyer’s thumbs dug into the tight muscles of his neck. He thought, fuck no.