All Tied Up
Title: All Tied Up
Pairing: Jack/Sawyer
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: None - AU
Disclaimer: Not Mine!
A/N: It’s the A Pain That I'm Used To boys again. I can't help myself!
Dedication: To zelda_zee, because she is the best.
“Did you go grocery shopping?”
“What?” Sawyer doesn’t get up from his place on the couch as Jack’s voice echoes into the living room.
“Did you go grocery shopping?” Jack asks again, appearing at the entryway to the kitchen. Sawyer twists his head to look at him, smirking slightly at the completely perplexed look on Jack’s face.
“Yeah, I went grocery shoppin’.” Sawyer chuckles, and slips a finger into the pages of his novel as to not lose his page before setting it down in his lap. “Why the hell d’ya look so surprised?”
Jack glances back toward the kitchen, as if still not sure he hadn’t imagined the fridge and cupboards being restocked, the fresh fruit sitting in the basket on the counter.
“No, I’m not…I’m not surprised, I just…” The fact that Jack takes yet another look back might offend Sawyer if Jack didn’t look so damned adorable in his bewilderment. “You hate grocery shopping, that’s all. I didn’t expect you to…you didn’t have to do that.”
Sawyer cocks an eyebrow in Jack’s direction.
“I eat here, don’t I?” He points out. Jack nods, his brow remaining furrowed in confusion.
“Yeah, you do.”
“You been busy. We needed food, I went to the store. Pretty simple scenario, Doc.”
“Well…thanks. Thank you.” Jack sounds polite and awkward, not like he’s speaking to the man who has been sharing his bed for the past six months. He nods again and then turns on his heel, goes back to the kitchen. Sawyer laughs lightly to himself and picks up his book, settling back into the pillows.
He never would’ve thought that running a few errands would upset Jack’s balance so much. Sawyer considers playing affronted, milking Jack’s amazement for a few minutes of glee in making him feel guilty for no reason, but he decides against it. It doesn’t really bother him; after all, it is the first time he has gone shopping alone.
Jack comes back into the living room, a small container in his hand.
“You bought mint chocolate chip?” Sawyer turns his head again, pulling his glasses down his nose to look at Jack over their frame.
“That’s what you like, right?” Sawyer replies. Jack again looks dumbfounded. He reads the label on the pint of ice cream again, and smiles a faint, shy smile.
“Yeah, I like it, but you didn’t have to buy it for me.”
“Hell Jack, I can buy you some danged ice cream if I want to, can’t I?” Sawyer retorts, grinning. He tosses his book onto the coffee table and pushes himself up to sit a bit higher against the arm of the couch. “Instead a standing here gapin’ at it, why don’t you grab a couple a spoons and come on over here?”
“Now?” Jack actually looks at the clock. It’s 5:30 in the evening, and Sawyer almost thinks that the next words out of Jack’s mouth will be something terribly mature along the lines of: But what about dinner? Remarkably, Jack only eyes him again to make sure he’s being serious, and then goes back to the kitchen.
He returns with two spoons clinking in his hand, the ice cream in the other. Sawyer smiles as Jack circles the end of the couch and sits down by his feet, settling in almost before Sawyer has the thought to move them. He slides his legs upward, bending his knees to give Jack some room. Jack extends a spoon out to him and then leans forward as Sawyer takes it, resting his forearms over Sawyer’s knees. He holds the small container of ice cream between their bodies and peels off the lid, setting it on the coffee table on top of Sawyer’s book.
Jack offers Sawyer the first bite but Sawyer tilts the container back toward him. He wants to watch Jack eat, slip the spoon past his lips and lick the smooth ice cream from it with his tongue. He wants to watch Jack’s cheeks flush pink with the dash of cold and the flash of satisfaction.
He’s still getting used to this, to finding joy in these small little moments, to doing things for no other reason than to make Jack happy. It’s strange but exhilarating to feel the rush of a natural high based only off of Jack’s smile.
When Jack swallows, he notices Sawyer staring at him intently.
“What?” Jack starts to ask but barely gets it out before Sawyer leans forward, kissing him gently. With Jack not expecting it, Sawyer dominates the kiss with no force at all, Jack’s mouth relaxed and open for the taking.
He licks his lips as he pulls away, tasting the mint of the ice cream and the mint of Jack’s toothpaste. Jack always brushes after lunch, in the bathroom at the hospital. Worried that he’ll go to see some patient with spinach in his teeth or something. Sawyer teases him about it, but he’d started using Jack’s fancy pricey toothpaste too, just to have the taste of him in his mouth all day long.
“Your lips are cold,” Sawyer murmurs. Jack smiles and dips his spoon in for another scoop, this time offering it to Sawyer. Sawyer almost laughs and resists the potential cheesiness of the moment; he can’t think of the last time he fed someone or let himself be fed like this, without it being a part of some romantic sham, a pathetic scam. But instead he only opens his mouth and keeps his eyes trained on Jack as he sucks the ice cream from the spoon slowly.
When Jack takes the spoon away, he reaches over with his hand and brushes his thumb over Sawyer’s bottom lip, very softly. Then he draws it back, his tongue flicking out to catch the wayward drop from his skin.
“Tease,” Sawyer says and Jack grins, his eyes dancing with laughter.
“Says the man who licked the spoon like that,” Jack replies. Sawyer sits up a little further, taking the spoon and the ice cream from Jack.
“I licked the spoon like what, Doc?” Sawyer prompts him to be explicit, wondering if he’ll do it. Jack doesn’t answer but he looks at him, brown eyes warm and alight. Sawyer realizes that Jack doesn’t think he’s serious, doesn’t think he actually wants an answer.
So Sawyer lets it go, though he kind of longed to hear Jack tell him that he wanted his tongue to move like that on his cock, right here, right now, his mouth still chilled and his lips still wet. He wanted Jack to tell him dirty things, like how he’d rather have his mouth full of the bitter tang of his come than the sweet slide of ice cream any day.
For Jack to become aggressively sexual, he usually needs to be really angry. He needs some overriding emotion to get him over the initial embarrassment of being totally open, totally honest about what he wants and needs. Sometimes when he’s really tired, he’ll let his guard down too, or if Sawyer has him worked up so much that he simply can’t deny how much he needs it or wants it any longer. But now, curled up on the couch beside him, barely home from work and just beginning to relax, Sawyer knows Jack will remain mum.
Sawyer takes another helping of ice cream and lets the companionable silence continue. Jack rubs his hands over Sawyer’s knees and then down the legs of his jeans to his ankles, before he leans back himself against the pillows at his end of the couch. He sinks into them with a contented sigh.
“What do you want to do for dinner?” He asks, loosening his tie. Sawyer shrugs.
“I bought stuff to make chicken and broccoli casserole, that recipe you got from Emma. We could do that,” Sawyer suggests. Jack stretches his legs out along either side of Sawyer’s body and Sawyer smiles, depositing the spoon back into the container, balancing it on the surface of which they’ve barely made a dent. “Or we could just stay here on the couch for now.”
Sawyer puts the ice cream on the coffee table and then moves to kneel between Jack’s knees.
“Dinner can wait until later,” he says, smoothing his hands up the soft material of Jack’s black slacks, his fingers rubbing against Jack’s thighs. Jack shifts into his touch. His teeth catch the edge of his thin bottom lip as he lets his gaze drift over Sawyer’s face. Sawyer feels warmer just because of that look. “Yeah, dinner can wait.”
Sawyer presses his palm between Jack’s legs, cupping the curve of his cock underneath his pants. He rubs over it slowly, enjoying how the slight swell fits perfectly against his hand. Tracing the outline of it with his fingers, Sawyer takes his time, his touch lingering and languorous.
Jack sighs a little, his legs spreading almost imperceptibly wider to encourage Sawyer along. Sawyer doesn’t change what he’s doing, doesn’t move faster or slower. He seems content to remain as he is, rubbing the soft fabric, occasionally brushing over the sharp steel of the zipper, as Jack grows hard under his touch.
Feeling Jack responding to him sends a surge of adrenaline through Sawyer’s body. It’s nothing rare or surprising these days, and every time Sawyer wonders why he’s still so thrilled by it, why it still feels unexpected. He falls asleep every night with Jack beside him and more often than not they’re both naked and sweaty, tangled together under the sheets. It should no longer be a shock that Jack wants him the way he does.
“You think about me at all at work today, Doc?” Sawyer asks, his voice smoky and dark. He moves his hand a little harder and Jack’s eyes drift closed. “Sometimes I think of you at the big desk of yours, think of you pullin’ down your zipper, wrappin’ your hand around yourself and gettin’ off right there. Or maybe layin’ down on that couch there, your shirt unbuttoned, pulling and stroking till you shout out, comin’ hot all over.”
“Sawyer,” Jack says his name and he can’t tell which way he means it until Jack sits up slightly and reaches for him, pulling him down on top of his body. “Come here.” Jack kisses him, immediately taking it deep. Sawyer lets his weight rest down on top of Jack, his hardness insistent against Jack’s.
“So do you?” Sawyer whispers against his lips when he pulls back, rolling his hips downward, pushing against Jack.
“Do I what?” Jack’s eyes aren’t really focusing on anything and he grunts softly in a mixture of pleasure and pain as Sawyer rocks over him.
“Think about me. At work.” Jack replies by nodding a little and then lifting his head from the pillows and kisses Sawyer again by way of response.
“I don’t do anything about it though,” he adds.
“Wish you would,” Sawyer murmurs, slipping his hand down between their bodies and trying to unbutton the top of Jack’s pants. “Wish you would, then come home and tell me all about it.” Sawyer dips his head, lets his lips brush against Jack’s neck as he speaks.
“Sawyer…”
“Or better yet, call me while you’re doin’ it. Let me hear you.”
Jack takes Sawyer’s wrist, pulling it away from his body. Sawyer snaps his eyes toward Jack’s face and finds Jack’s gaze intense but not angry, not frustrated.
“Let’s go upstairs.”
Sawyer stops moving, a tad confused by Jack’s suggestion. Not that he had a problem with it, but he didn’t have a problem with how they were right then, either.
“Okay…” He shakes his head but smiles at the same time, showing Jack that he finds the sudden request odd. He pulls back from Jack, resting his weight on his heels, and Jack climbs out from underneath him. “I thought you kinda liked doin’ it on the couch.”
Jack ducks his head, smiling. He rubs the back of his neck and then ventures a glance at Sawyer.
“Yeah, I kinda do. But I have something else in mind.”
“You got something in mind?” Sawyer repeats, pleased. “And what’s that?”
“Come upstairs and find out,” Jack retorts. He heads for the staircase, tossing a look back over his shoulder at Sawyer. Sawyer quickly slaps the lid on the ice cream and stands up.
“Well, I’ll be right up, Doc,” He watches Jack go up the stairs and then practically runs to the kitchen, shoving the ice cream back in the freezer and throwing the spoons in the sink with a loud clatter. He hurries up to their bedroom with undignified eagerness.
Jack is standing at his closet, his shirt unbuttoned and his tie undone, hanging loose. Sawyer pauses in the doorway and much too late tries to play it cool, leaning against the frame and taking a deep breath.
Jack unzips the suit bag that is hanging from the closet door and pulls something out before turning to Sawyer.
“You didn’t have to pick up my drycleaning too.”
Sawyer shrugs and walks toward him.
“I was nearby. Made sense,” he states and looks at the tie in Jack’s hands. “They get the stain out?”
“Yeah,” Jack replies. “All better.”
“Good.” Sawyer moves closer. Jack smiles and Sawyer’s own lips quirk upward as Jack tugs off the tie he’s wearing and then holds both ties in his hands, staring at them. “What is it?”
“Nothing, I just…”
“No, Jack, what is it?” Sawyer asks again, intrigued by the expression on Jack’s face.
“Have you ever been tied up?” Jack blurts out.
“Tied up?” Sawyer’s voice raises an octave, his eyebrows shooting upward. He hadn’t seen that one coming.
“In bed.”
“Um, yeah…” Sawyer coughs, sputtering. Jack nods, looking down. He looks a bit disappointed. “You want to tie me up in bed?”
“No, I…”
“You want me to tie you up?”
“You wanted to know what I was thinking about at work, well…that’s it.” Jack says, his tone slightly flat. Sawyer can see him start to shut down, withdraw, thinking that Sawyer’s surprised tone is a bit joking. Sawyer realizes that maybe it might have been, since he’d never imagined Jack saying these things in earnest.
“Get undressed,” Sawyer slips the ties from Jack’s grasp as his voice drops low and serious. Jack hesitates and Sawyer starts undoing his pants for him impatiently. This seems to set Jack back at ease and he quickly takes back over, stripping down without a second thought.
Sawyer’s gaze caresses Jack’s body, sweeping over his bare skin, taking in every inch of him with a carefully studying stare. Sawyer revels in the moment. Before he’d been with Jack, he’d thought this was how he’d always be, confident, maybe even arrogant. He’d imagined Jack’s sexuality to be unapologetic, that he’d be take charge in the bedroom the way he was in other aspects of his life.
But Jack is shy, not as assured as he expected. Sawyer wishes that he’d known this side of him on the island, because he would’ve understood him so much better. He would’ve seen that Jack’s position as leader was something that came to him both naturally and unnaturally; something in him made people expect that confidence and leadership, but he himself was uncomfortable with it. But back then, before he understood even his own feelings for Jack, maybe Sawyer wasn’t ready to see that.
Now, he loves it, that wavering push and pull between Jack’s natural charisma and his lingering self-doubt.
When he finally makes his way up Jack’s body to his face, he finds Jack looking at him expectantly, a bit nervously. Sawyer can feel the lust pool in his stomach, sure that his eyes just darkened with pure desire as they met Jack’s.
“On the bed,” he commands, jerking his head in that direction. Jack obeys him and Sawyer follows, waiting until Jack lies flat on the mattress before climbing on top of him, straddling his waist. His rough jeans rub against Jack’s skin and he feels Jack shudder underneath him.
Gently he guides Jack’s arm back above his head and wraps the navy blue tie around his wrist, tethering him to one of the slats of their headboard. The fabric is silky and slightly slippery; he has to pull and knot it very tightly to have it remain fastened firmly. He looks to Jack, worried it’s too much.
“That feel okay?” Jack nods, swallowing hard. Sawyer repeats the same thing to his left wrist, again checking to make sure everything’s all right. He pauses to survey his work, wondering if it will hold, and then slowly slinks back off of the mattress.
Sawyer stands at the foot of the bed and looks at Jack lying out before him, barely believing how good this evening has gotten. Half an hour ago he’d been bored and lonely, reading a terrible book, not wanting to cook dinner but looking forward to spending time with Jack.
Now Jack’s naked in their bed: long, muscular legs stretched out, leading up to his sharp hips and his beautifully hard cock, his arousal displayed out for the taking. His broad chest and flat stomach rise and fall quickly, his breathing fast. Jack’s strong arms are twisted over his head, the swirls and stars on his inner arm bright against his pale skin. His perfect hands grasp the headboard, fingers curling around the rungs.
His lips are parted and his eyes are dark, his cheeks rosy. Sawyer can’t decide what he wants to do first. He can do anything to Jack that he wants and he is paralyzed with indecision, wanting to do all of it but knowing he can’t.
“Sawyer?” Jack’s voice is soft, vulnerable.
“I’m just lookin’ at you,” Sawyer says weakly, not realizing until then that he’d forgotten to breathe for a moment. “Damn, Jack.” He grabs the hem of his own loose blue t-shirt and pulls it off over his head, then finds the zipper of his jeans. He tries to gather his thoughts as he tugs his clothes off, but his mind is filled only with the pounding of his blood, the throbbing of his cock. He can feel his whole body pulsing with want.
“What do you want me to do?” Sawyer finally asks Jack, unable to decide on his own.
“Anything you want.”
Sawyer closes his eyes, trying to get ahold of himself.
“Fuck,” he mumbles as he crawls back onto the bed, kneeling between Jack’s legs. He sets his hands on Jack’s ankles and guides his feet up the bed, bending Jack’s legs, then places his palms on Jack’s inner thighs, easing his legs further apart.
He lets his lips take the place of his hands, laying gently moving kisses over Jack’s skin, caressing each of his thighs with his mouth before moving to the cut lines of his hip bones, tracing the curve of muscle leading down to his groin on each side.
Jack lifts his hips toward Sawyer’s searching mouth and Sawyer smiles, knowing he’s already making Jack want more. He denies Jack’s straining erection the touch that it craves and instead moves higher, his lips and tongue following the trail of hair on Jack’s lower abs up to the darker tangles of hair over his wide chest.
He can feel Jack’s cock pressing to his chest as he hovers above Jack, the feel of it hard and soft all at once as the wet tip brushes against his skin. He hums over Jack’s throat as his mouth moves upward, finding Jack’s pulse thrumming steadily underneath his lips. Jack tilts his head back as Sawyer mouths along his jaw line; Sawyer’s soft hair brushes over his skin, tickling him in the way that doesn’t make him giggle but makes him sigh.
Jack feels completely relaxed in the moment, like putty in his hands. Sawyer wonders at being trusted so completely; Jack is calm and cool, not straining against the bindings around his wrists at all. If it weren’t for the insistent push of his hard-on trapped between their bodies, Sawyer would think he was on the verge of sleep, drowsy and content.
Sawyer inches a little higher along Jack’s long body and finds the inked colors of Jack’s tattoo with his tongue. The vivid stars and lines never stop being a fascination for him, their meaning still a mystery to him even after all this time. He gets the feeling that if he asked Jack when and why he got them, Jack would tell him, but Sawyer thinks maybe he prefers not knowing. He kind of likes it better that way.
With one hand he holds Jack’s wrists, his fingers wrapping around the cool fabric of the ties, while the other slinks down Jack’s body, blindly reaching for his hardness. He strokes upward, thumb circling Jack’s sensitive head. Jack exhales sharply and his muscles tighten underneath Sawyer’s mouth, his bicep bulging.
Not so relaxed now.
Sawyer pulls back and smiles down at Jack, taking advantage of his position straddling Jack’s thighs to roll his hips downward, rub his body along Jack’s as his hand works over his length. He touches him firmly, purposefully, knowing exactly what movement will garner which reaction. Sawyer considers making Jack come just like this, get him so riled up that he’ll be thrusting into his fist and then pumping out all over his fingers, but he thinks better of it.
With Jack tied up, it would hardly make sense to let him off easy, give him release nice and fast. He’s supposed to make this last.
Sawyer smoothes his hands over Jack’s lower stomach, angling out to grab Jack’s hips. He pauses to toss a few wayward strands of his long hair out of his eyes with a sharp shake of his head, and then shoots Jack a knowing smile. Jack shivers as Sawyer moves his thumbs in small circles over his hip bones, pressing down hard but not too hard.
“You want me to suck you, Doc? Take you all the way down?” Usually he holds off on the dirty talk unless Jack initiates it, but he knows this time he’s calling all the shots. He pointedly makes it obvious as he glances down from Jack’s face to his straining cock, which Sawyer probably wouldn’t be able to keep himself from even if Jack said that’s not what he wanted.
Jack nods once. Sawyer shakes his head no.
“Say it, Jack. Tell me.”
“Sawyer, I…”
“C’mon, I know you can do it, I’ve heard you do it before…tell me what you want,” Sawyer prods him coyly.
Jack closes his eyes tightly, turning his head to the side. Sawyer waits, knowing Jack will stop being ashamed about it if he just gives him a moment. A soft kiss to the inside of Jack’s thigh earns the return of his heated gaze.
There’s a drop of moisture gathering on Jack’s tip, and it takes everything Sawyer has not to bend forward and lick it away. Jack must read the lust that comes over him because in the next moment he blurts out what Sawyer wants to hear.
“God damn, Sawyer…suck me off, please…put me in your mouth…” Sawyer can’t tell if he’s cheeks flush pink with desire or embarrassment, but either way, he’s gorgeous. Jack’s voice wavers a little and he closes his eyes again. “I need you.”
“Hell, Doc, you sound like a right ol’ porn star,” Sawyer teases to keep Jack from taking it too seriously. “I gotta say, I fuckin’ love words like that comin’ outta your mouth.” Sawyer leans forward, runs his tongue up the underside of Jack’s swollen length, rewarding Jack for playing by his rules. “Words like suck…” He circles the head with the tip of his tongue and feels Jack shiver. “Cock…” Sawyer lifts his eyes to watch Jack’s reaction as he closes his lips over him, finally tasting the bite of pre-come there. Jack’s lids blink open and his pupils are dilated, black and wide. Sawyer takes a good long time dragging off of him. “And when you tell me you’re coming, all I wanna do is fuck you until you’re coming all over again.”
“I never say that…” Jack mumbles.
“Say what?”
“Say when I’m coming.” His words are barely intelligible and he pulls slightly on his bonds with what Sawyer reads as a bit of stubborn petulance.
“You did once,” Sawyer replies, licking back down the throbbing vein. “It was just ‘bout the damn sexiest thing I ever heard.”
Jack makes a strangled noise as Sawyer drifts lower, taking Jack’s balls into his mouth. Sawyer can feel them tighten, draw up, and for a second he wonders if Jack’s going to come right then. He hears the headboard knock against the wall and Jack hisses. But he stays in control.
Sawyer runs his palms up and down Jack’s thighs, his touch light as if he’s soothing sore muscles. He stares down at Jack like this is the best thing he could ever think to do, just sit back on his heels and look at Jack laid out before him, naked and aroused and completely at his mercy.
He’s played games of dominance before but not anything like this. The excitement isn’t borne out of risk. They’re not teetering on the edge of something dangerous. And this, tying Jack up to their bed, barely even feels kinky. Jack trusts him and wants Sawyer to drive him crazy; to be overcome with the urge to touch him by being denied that simple luxury. Taking that away makes Sawyer realize just how amazing it is when Jack’s hands are on him and will make it all the more thrilling when Jack’s fingers finally reconnect with his skin.
Sawyer eases Jack’s legs further apart and prompts Jack to lift his hips so he can slide a pillow underneath his body. His own cock is achingly hard and as he kneels between Jack’s spread legs he considers how much longer he can deny Jack, much less deny himself.
He can feel the want surging through every inch of his body, warming him from head to toe. He feels feverish, cold and hot at the same time. Jack is so beautiful, and he’s his.
Sawyer reaches down and sets one hand gently on the base of Jack’s erection, the heel of his palm brushing low against his balls, only three of his fingers flat against the warm, smooth skin of his cock. Jack looks up at him, somewhere between hopeful and expectant.
“I really wanna tease you, Doc,” Sawyer admits, his voice husky. “I really wanna just keep on feelin’ you up, taste you all over…get my fingers inside you, my tongue inside you…” He moves his hand slowly upward, still not closing his fingers fully around Jack’s girth. “There’s so much I want to do. I can think of about fifty different ways right off the top of my head that I wanna make you fall apart for me.”
Sawyer smirks slightly, cocking an eyebrow, but his eyes are serious.
“I’m havin’ some trouble choosin’ just one.”
Jack bites his lip and inhales deeply but slowly, keeping his eyes trained on Sawyer’s face.
“If I could handle it, I’d keep ya like this all night long, play with you. Make you want it so bad you could cry, make you come more times than you ever thought you could.” Sawyer smiles when Jack’s length twitches against his hand, his body reacting on suggestions alone. Sawyer looks down at his own insistent erection and moves his hand to grasp it. He pumps himself once, taking his time, making sure Jack watches.
“I’m all for delayed gratification, but I don’t think I can handle it tonight,” Sawyer admits. He’ll be damned if Jack doesn’t actually lick his lips and then leave his lips slightly parted and wet, an open invitation if ever he’s seen one. He grins. “You want this?”
“I want you.” Jack whispers.
“And where do you want it?” Sawyer prompts him, a wicked lilt in his voice. He takes his free hand and slides a finger around and then into Jack’s tight entrance. “You want me to fuck you wide open, Jack? You wanna feel me hard inside you?”
“God yes.” Jack’s wrists twist in their bindings and he pushes his body eagerly to meet the shallow thrust of Sawyer’s finger. He grunts and then winces, like what he’s getting now simply isn’t enough. “Do it, make me feel it.”
Sawyer bends forward to grab the lube from the night side table and Jack cranes his head to try to kiss him, rocks his body to try to meet him. The feel of Jack pushing hard against him makes Sawyer fumble in eagerness as he quickly slicks two fingers. He pushes them back deep inside Jack, with impatience that he should have learned to master by now but hasn’t.
It doesn’t matter that much though, because Jack is just as eager. He is pliant and willing, using his body to try and feel more than Sawyer is offering. It only takes a minute before Sawyer is withdrawing and turning his attention to spreading the lube over his own cock, the slippery liquid ice cool against his heated flesh.
He wraps Jack’s legs over his hips, angling Jack’s body just a little higher. Gripping himself with one firm hand, he guides the blunt head to Jack’s entrance, pushing through the tight ring of muscle. They both pause for a second in that moment of penetration, breathing sharply, trying to steel themselves from losing it all too soon.
Sawyer glances down as he pushes his hips toward Jack, sinking in slowly. There’s something so devastatingly intimate about Jack letting him do this, inviting him to take all of him that he can, that never fails to take his breath away.
All the way in, he stops, trying to ingrain the memory of Jack so tight and hot around him. Every time it’s even better than he remembers; it’s like his brain can’t fathom the amount of pleasure he actually gains from this.
He shifts his hips, not pulling out but moving all the same, and Jack grunts. It’s that sharp little grunt that is Jack’s equivalent of a wanton groan; the way he whispers Sawyer’s name under his breath is Jack’s way of screaming it out loud.
“You feel so good,” Sawyer tells him, and it’s the understatement of a lifetime. He doesn’t expect Jack to say anything now; their talk is usually limited to harder and faster and the occasional curses and blasphemies that slip out. He doesn’t expect what Jack actually says next.
“Fuck, Sawyer, you’re so damn hard, so hard…you’re so big, I can’t…fuck, can’t take it, need you to move…need you to fuck me, fuck me right into the mattress…c’mon, god, I can feel you throbbing…”
Sawyer basically freezes, his hands on Jack’s hips. Jack’s eyes are tightly shut and his head thrown back against the pillows. Sawyer has to wonder if he imagined hearing it all, but Jack’s lips are moving and those are indeed the words coming out. And he’s not even blushing.
He gets ahold of himself and Jack’s lust-filled words come over him in the moment after; he draws out and thrusts back in on instinct alone, his body making the decision for him. He pushes hard and he goes deep, so deep. Jack whimpers in pleasure and his fingers curl tightly around he bars he’s tied to, holding on as Sawyer rocks into him.
Kneeling between Jack’s legs like this affords Sawyer a priceless view of what every single motion he makes does to Jack’s body, but his hands on his hips, his legs, simply aren’t enough. He needs to feel closer.
Shifting, he adjusts so he’s leaning over Jack, arms on either side of his chest. Dropping his head Sawyer kisses him, tongue sliding home as his hair falls in a curtain around them. He loves this, when he can see nothing but himself reflected in Jack’s dark eyes.
Jack kisses him back passionately, almost desperately. Sawyer feels desired in a way that is practically tangible, like it’s a warm blanket surrounding him and pulling him in, holding him down on top of Jack’s body.
“God, I want to touch you,” Jack murmurs, tugging at his restraints. Sawyer slips one hand up and for a second considers untying Jack’s hands, but then simply twines his fingers with Jack’s and adds extra pressure, assuring him that freedom is not about to be granted.
Sawyer loves the sound of the bed squeaking underneath their shifting weight. He used to try for that effect in cheap motels with his old marks, get them screaming and rocking; crickety beds made the sex more mind-blowing for them, even if it wasn’t really. The power of suggestion.
But here in their new bed with their new mattress, it feels earned and not at all comical, cheesy. Sawyer simply can’t help it. He can’t tone down his enthusiasm.
He slides his hand between their sweaty bodies and wraps his fingers around Jack’s cock, already wet and sticky with his excitement. Sawyer slips his palm over him, up and down, up and down, until all of Jack’s length is coated and slipping easily in his grasp. Matching the rhythm of his thrusts in and out of Jack with that slick, easy up and down on his cock, Sawyer loses himself to the natural beat of their bodies throbbing together as one.
Jack tenses and breaks his mouth away from Sawyer’s sloppy kiss.
“Oh, god, Sawyer…I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come…” Sawyer has no time to wonder if Jack says this intentionally to work him up before Jack is tensing under and around him, clenching Sawyer inside him as he goes over the edge. Sawyer watches the exquisite play of bliss over Jack’s face and bathes in the warm sensation of Jack’s come spilling between his fingers before his vision blurs and his mind goes blank. He thrusts one more time and then his whole body spasms, filling Jack up.
He doesn’t know how long it takes to come back down. It would have been seconds, minutes, hours, before he manages to focus and feel something concrete again, something solid and not ethereal. Jack is breathing heavy underneath him, his body loose and warm. Sawyer lifts his head from Jack’s shoulder and kisses him gently as he reaches up and with one swift tug, unties Jack’s hands.
Sawyer smoothes gently over Jack’s wrists as he pulls the silk fabric away, then sighs as Jack brings his arms down slowly, wraps them around Sawyer’s body and slides his palms over his broad back. Jack’s touch has never felt so good.
They kiss for awhile, Jack’s hands roaming freely before his fingers wind up twined in Sawyer’s hair, gently stroking through it.
“Question for you,” Jack breaks the comfortable quiet, smiling softly against Sawyer’s kiss.
“Hmm?” Sawyer asks, not stopping his slow exploration of Jack’s mouth.
“What is it about me talking dirty that you like so much?”
Sawyer doesn’t really have to think about the answer.
“Because I know you’d only do it for me,” he replies, barely missing a beat, merely changing the angle of his kiss and continuing. “Because I’m the only one who ever gets to hear it, who makes you want to say those things.” Sawyer slides a hand up Jack’s strong forearm, fingers circling his wrist. “Because I’m the only one you’d ever let tie you up in bed.”
Sawyer pauses, pulling back.
“Because you trust me.”
“I love you.” The way Jack says it implies that love ranks higher than trust, that of course he trusts him, and it makes Sawyer want to kiss him again and never stop. Because there had been a time when Jack loved him but couldn’t trust him. It had almost been their undoing.
Jack looks at him now like those times are nothing but a faint memory, if even remembered at all. Sawyer has all of him. He’ll never risk losing that again.