Even Score - Part Three Continued...
Claire sits next to Aaron’s crib, her foot moving back and forth against the crib’s bottom edge to rock it gently. The baby is sleeping soundly and the night is quiet. People are gathered around the fire, some talking, some eating, some simply staring into the flames and thinking of where they’d rather be.
And some aren’t there at all, but sitting in their tents by themselves in the darkness. Some, like herself, have a reason. Some can’t go socialize because they are busy with other tasks.
But Sawyer isn't busy with anything. He sits at the entrance to his tent, the book he had stopped reading at sunset still laying in his lap, forgotten. His gaze is focused out toward the sea but Claire knows he’s not really looking, not really seeing. His body is physically here, but his mind is elsewhere.
And she knows exactly where.
Kate used to be the one who cared. She would approach Sawyer in a time like this and make the futile effort to find out what was troubling him.
Yet Kate sits at the fireside with Jack, curled up in his arms, so comfortable and relaxed in his embrace that she’s a moment away from falling asleep. They’ve been nearly inseparable all week. Claire knows because she has been watching intensely, looking for any sign that Sawyer’s words to her were untrue.
But he seems to be right on the mark. Jack is with Kate, in every way, shape and form. They sleep in the same tent at night, eat breakfast together in the morning, pick up hatch shifts as a pair; when they are apart, Jack shows no interest in so much as speaking to Sawyer unless it's absolutely necessary. There is nothing incriminating about his behavior at all.
Whatever happened in the jungle, Jack seems to have moved past it, decided to forget about it. Sawyer hasn’t. He had told her that it didn’t matter, but looking at him now, it’s very clear that it does. At least to him.
Claire looks from Sawyer back to Jack and Kate and is surprised to see Jack’s eyes move toward Sawyer as well. It’s a brief moment. A split second wherein his gaze moves past the flames and seeks out Sawyer’s dark figure, sitting far away on the sand. Then Kate says something to him and Jack’s attention snaps back to her instantly.
Maybe he hasn’t forgotten it after all.
“John?” She taps Locke on the shoulder, speaking softly so she doesn’t capture anyone else’s attention.
“Yes, Claire?” He asks, turning to face her. “Everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine. I was just wondering if you could look after Aaron for a few minutes. He’s sleeping, but I don’t want to leave him.”
“Where are you going?”
“I just…I need to talk to Sawyer about something.” She shoves her hands into her pockets and looks up at him, hoping he doesn’t press her for any more details than that. She doesn’t have an excuse prepared as to why speaking with Sawyer is a necessity.
“All right. Of course,” John nods, sensing that Claire needs him to go along with her request, no questions asked. Claire is grateful; Locke may challenge everything that Jack says, but with everyone else he seems to have an inate sense of when to press further and when to let something slide.
“Great. Thank you. I’ll just be right over by Sawyer’s tent if you need me, okay?” She gestures toward Sawyer and then heads in that direction not waiting for Locke to reply. He watches her go, his curiosity piqued even if he had kept himself from voicing it.
Claire stops in front of Sawyer and looks down at him. He doesn’t seem to see her.
“Sawyer?” She asks gently. Nothing. She moves her foot and taps the edge of his boot, not hard, but enough to jog him out of his thoughts. He blinks rapidly and then tilts his head upward, surprised to see her there. “Hey. Sorry…you were off in your own little world.”
“Sorry,” he mumbles brusquely. “What d’ya want?”
“Can I…can I talk to you for a second?”
“Ain’t we talkin’ now?” He points out and Claire gestures into his tent.
“In private? Please?” Claire pleads, knowing that she’s probably one of the last people Sawyer wants to deal with right now. Sawyer considers it, not wanting to comply, but there’s not much he can do about it.
“Fine. Get on in there.” He jerks his head backward toward the tent and waits for her to get inside before slowly standing up himself, brushing sand from his jeans and following her in. “Take a seat.” He gestures toward his makeshift bed and Claire sits down awkwardly.
“Listen, Sawyer…” Claire starts, her voice wavering. She picks up the corner of his blanket and worries it between her fingers, picking at the strands of fabric at its frayed edge. She doesn’t follow with anything more and Sawyer looks at her expectantly.
“I’m listenin’, but you ain’t talkin’, girlie. Whatever it is, why don’t ya just spit it out.”
“I’ve been watching you. I’ve been watching you…watch him, rather.” Claire looks everywhere except at Sawyer, nervous and unsure that this is the right thing to be doing. Sawyer shifts as he stands in front of her, letting out a long breath.
“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, cause I ain’t been watchin’ him. I ain’t a lovesick puppy, pinin’ away for some jackass who ain’t even worth it.”
Saying what he isn’t only makes Claire believe all the more that he is.
“Fine, you’re not.” Claire replies. “Except...you are.” Sawyer frowns sharply and his nostrils flare, gearing up to lay into her, tell her off.
“Lookit, you don’t know a god damn thing about me so-“
“I don’t, you’re right,” Claire interrupts, finally meeting him head-on. She tosses away the blanket in her hands and puts her hands on her knees. “If I did, maybe I could understand why someone who fights against everything and everyone isn’t willing to fight for what he wants.”
Sawyer is the one to look away now, setting his jaw and grinding his teeth.
“I thought you were on her side.” He says quietly.
“I am. I mean…I want Kate to be happy. I don’t want anyone to hurt her.”
“Then why the hell you in here?”
“I…I don’t know, really.” Claire falters. “I guess because I think one word from you would be all it would take to make Jack change his mind. And even if you never say it, it’s still there. And Kate doesn’t deserve that.”
“People are attracted to other people all the time, sweetheart, don’t mean they gotta do anything about it. If you think you’re ever gonna find a guy who has eyes for you and only you, you’ve got another thing comin’. You’ll never have that, and Kate won’t either. It’s the way it is.” Sawyer makes to open the flap of his tent, gesturing for her to leave, but she doesn’t move. “If Jack says he’s gonna stick by Kate, he’ll stick by Kate. Quit worryin' 'bout it. It ain’t even your business.”
Claire doesn’t budge and Sawyer lets the flap fall closed with an exasperated sigh.
“What do you want me to do? I’m missin' somethin'.”
“Look. I know I’m sticking my nose in where it doesn’t belong, okay? But Kate made this my business, I’m involved now.”
“I’m sorry, did I fuck you? Did Jack?” Sawyer asks cuttingly. “You and Kate getting a little Bound on the side?” Claire shakes her head no, embarrassed by his insinuations. “Then it ain’t your business, no matter what a blabbermouth Freckles decides to be. So why don’t you just fuck off.”
Claire stands up, her long blonde hair flouncing on her shoulders. She steps toward the door, frowning deeply, her eyes full of hurt and dismay. She stops in front of him, looking up at him and finding nothing but annoyance in his expression.
“I don’t understand why you have to be such a jerk, Sawyer,” Claire says, her voice wavering. “I was just trying to help. I just…”
“You just what.” Sawyer spits out, nearly growling, his patience at zero now. He sets his jaw, waiting for Claire to give up and leave. Instead of his anger intimidating her, it seems to have the opposite effect. Her face softens, something akin to pity and empathy alighting upon it.
Claire reaches out and runs her hand down his forearm, the gesture attempting to be a comforting.
“I want everyone to be happy, Sawyer. Including you.”
“Why you suddenly start carin’ now?” Sawyer asks her, the edge falling off his words, becoming almost weak.
“Why did you start caring about Jack?” Claire asks in return. He doesn’t know how to answer. Claire shrugs. “You just do, Sawyer. We’re here together. We might be here a long time, you know? Pretending that you’re alone isn’t going to work, you have to-“
Claire is cut off by Sawyer grabbing both sides of her face and pulling her head toward hers, crushing his lips against hers in a sudden kiss. Claire makes a small noise of protest, surprised. Her hands grip his wrists, not trying to push him away, but not relaxing. She simply waits for him to finish what he’s attempting to do, waits for him to pull back.
His lips meet hers in desperation, searching for something he already knew would not not there. Comfort. Release. Relief. Finally he gives up, breaking away from Claire. He keeps his eyes closed, cursing himself inwardly. When he opens them, he finds Claire looking at him sadly.
“That won’t work, Sawyer.” She states.
“Seemed to work just fine to me,” Sawyer mumbles half-heartedly. Claire sighs.
“Sawyer…”
“God. I know, all right?” Sawyer turns away from her, running his hand through his hair. “Sorry.”
“Talk to him, Sawyer. You need to decide what’s best for all of you.”
“He doesn’t want me, would ya get that through your head? He made that pretty damn clear last night in the hatch, Dear Abby. He made his choice.”
“Did he?” Claire’s question catches Sawyer off guard, not having expected a challenge on that particular point.
“What? Of course he did. He fuckin’ shut the door in my face-“
“You decided the day it happened, didn’t you? You decided, I was standing right there. You thought he was better off with Kate, remember?”
Sawyer doesn’t reply, knowing that she’s right but not wanting to admit it. The stubborn part of him wants to point out that he was merely hastening the inevitable and saving himself from unavoidable pain. But the truth is that he had been too afraid to give Jack the choice, to give Jack the power to break him.
Because if did Jack choose, and he chose Kate…
“Have you ever wondered what would happen if you asked him? Told him that you want him?” Claire asks earnestly and he has to snort, shaking his head at the idiocy of such an obvious question.
“Every damn day, sweetheart. But we all know the answer to that one, and it’s the same one we got now.” Sawyer replies.
“You don’t know unless you ask, Sawyer,” Claire tells him. She stands on tiptoe and places a light kiss on his cheek, followed by a sweet, faint smile. She doesn’t say anything else before she slips out of his tent and leaves Sawyer to his thoughts.
He hesitates but then follows her out, watching her as she crosses the beach back toward her own tent where Locke is waiting for her. She takes Aaron back and the baby’s happy coo echoes down the beach along with her and Locke’s amused laughter.
He scans the rest of the people by the fireside and is struck immediately by Jack’s absence. Kate sits with Sun now by the fire, speaking quietly to one another.
Feeling a sense of alarm that simply can’t be normal, Sawyer tries to walk up to Hurley as casually as possible. He interrupts his conversation with Libby rudely anyway, his attempt at nonchalance completely undone by the irrational need to know where Jack has disappeared to.
“Hurley, you seen Jack?” He asks, cutting Libby off mid-sentence. They both look up at him, surprised by the intrusion, neither of them having seen him approach.
“Jack? Uh…I think he’s got hatch duty tonight.”
“With who?”
“Ummm…” Hurley tries to remember but comes up blank.
“Ana Lucia,” Libby supplies.
“Yeah. Right. Ana Lucia.” Hurley nods. “Uh, why you wanna know, dude?”
“Got a damn headache,” Sawyer mutters.
“Oh, I still have some aspirin he gave me yesterday.” Libby starts to get up immediately, reaching for her bag, but Sawyer gestures for her not to bother.
“Forget it. Aspirin don’t help. Thanks anyway.”
Sawyer turns and walks back to his tent, knowing Hurley and Libby are watching him. He can hear Libby murmur something to Hurley about Jack mentioning Sawyer’s headaches, a vague note of concern in her voice, but he doesn’t wait to hear Hurley’s reply. He ducks inside his tent quickly, needing to be alone.
He waits there, unmoving, for fifteen minutes, torn between what he wants to do and what he should do. Finally, he walks back out onto the beach, moving slowly. He glances toward the fire, finding Kate still engaged in conversation with Sun. No one seems to be paying attention to him so he walks as quietly and stealthily as possible across the beach, walking well past their camp before doubling back into the jungle toward the path to the hatch.
*******
“Hey.”
Ana Lucia looks up at Sawyer from her seat on the couch, eying him suspiciously. It’s unlike him to greet her, much less speak to her without insult.
“Hey,” she mumbles back, setting her book in her lap. “What are you doing down here?”
“Lookin' for Jack. You seen him?”
“He’s down there,” Ana points down the winding tunnel toward the first hatch entrance, the one that only Jack, Locke and Kate have ever used. Sawyer follows her finger and then glances back at her, confused.
“What the hell's he doin’ down there?”
Ana shrugs.
“Something to do with the cameras. Surveillance or something.”
“You ain’t helpin’ him?”
Ana Lucia coughs, shifting awkwardly in her seat. She glances up at him a couple of times while she speaks, but can’t maintain eye contact.
“It’s something he’s been workin’ on with Sayid.”
“Ah. And you don’t hang around cause you killed Twiggy on him. I can see how that’d be kinda awkward.” Ana glares at him, not amused by his callous remarks. “Captain Arab down there with Jack now?”
“Why do you want to know?” Ana folds her hands in her lap, looking at Sawyer expectantly.
“Because.”
“Because why?”
“Because I gotta talk to Jack about somethin' private, all right?” Sawyer explains, exasperated. Ana smiles knowingly.
“You can just say it, you know. Anyone who takes a second to look at you can see it.”
“See what.”
“How bad you want to fuck him.” Ana smirks.
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about, chica, so-“
“Sawyer, please. I walk in on the three of you down here in the midst of whatever the hell that was, and since then you’ve been lusting after Jack like a hormonal teenager.” Ana rises from her place on the couch and tosses her book haphazardly onto the coffee table. She walks to him, crossing her arms in front of her chest, an amused smile covering her face. “Guess that makes you a liar then.”
“What now?”
“You said you weren’t gay.”
“You know…” Sawyer starts, gritting his teeth. “All my life I ain’t ever laid a hand on a woman, and I always swore up and down I never would. But let me tell ya, I am thisclose to punchin’ ya right now.”
“Sawyer, I’m a trained cop.” Ana sets her hands on her hips and steps close to him, meeting him head-on. “I know how to crush your balls, break your jaw, and gouge your eyes out in one movement. So....I wouldn’t threaten me if I were you.”
“Oh, it weren’t a threat, sister,” Sawyer chuckles at her ferocity, having to hand it to her. “Them are words of admiration. If you weren’t such a damned bitch, I might have to like ya.”
“Well if you weren’t such a bastard, I might have to like you too. Guess it’s a good thing we’re both so unbearable then.”
“Damn good thing,” Sawyer nods and then points down the hallway. “Jack’s down there?”
“Yep. And Sayid left, he's alone.” Ana nods, smirking again. “Tell Jack I went for a walk.”
“Will do.”
“Hey, Sawyer.”
Sawyer stops, turning back around. Ana stands at the exit, a devilish smile on her face.
“Jack. He any good?”
Sawyer pauses, a smile of his own spreading across his face, finally having fun talking about Jack for the very first time since this all began. He had once thought that Ana was going to blow him in for his behavior, but now it seems that she is on his side, not Kate’s.
“Fuckin’ great.” Sawyer replies and Ana shakes her head, laughing.
“Damn, I knew it. You lucky son of a bitch.”
Sawyer waits until Ana Lucia is gone before turning his thoughts back to the tunnel, to Jack. The smile that Ana had temporarily brought to his face fades quickly, the sudden well-natured feelings that were directed at her giving way to the panic and excitement he feels at being alone with Jack again.
The tunnel is dim and eerie, the light tinged yellow and the walls made of dark jutting stone and slabs of concrete. He walks passed the place in the wall that seems to hum, the metal buttons of his shirt and his jeans tugging slightly toward it. The sensation is strange, being pulled toward something and not being able to stop it.
And then there’s Jack. Once again his body is pulled in another direction, equally unable to stop. Jack is holding his small flashlight, engrossed in the entangled wiring that he is inspecting up overhead, attached to some kind of long lens mounted to the ceiling.
“What are you doin'?” Sawyer asks him and Jack jumps, startled. The flashlight hits the ground with a crack and the light bulb goes out.
“Jesus Christ, Sawyer, you scared the hell out of me,” He exclaims, irked. “What are you doing down here?” He bends down to pick up his flashlight, clicking it on and off a few times and receiving nothing for his efforts. Sighing, he shoves the broken light into the front pocket of his plaid shirt.
“Looking for you,” Sawyer replies honestly. He crosses his arms and leans against the wall, ignoring the damp chill of the stone that soaks through his thin blue t-shirt. “I’m supposed to tell you - Ana Lucia went for a walk.”
“Why would she…” Jack understands, but he doesn’t seem to like it. “What did you say to her?"
"Nothin'."
"Sawyer.”
“Jack.” Sawyer moves toward him, a slow playful smile spreading over his face.
“Quit it.”
“What?” Sawyer asks all too innocently, reaching out and touching Jack’s shoulder. Jack jumps back as if Sawyer has burned him.
“Just quit it, all right?”
Sawyer pauses, letting the coy mask of flirtation and self-assured boldness dissipate easily. He had barely been managing to keep up the façade in the first place.
“Don’t make me do this, Jack.”
“Do what, Sawyer?” Jack asks, genuinely confused. “I’m not making you do anything. I didn’t ask you to come down here, did I?”
“Jack…yesterday night in the hatch...”
“Sawyer…” Jack looks away, thinking it’s going to be about him and Kate and how callously he had slammed the door in Sawyer’s face and the whole unnecessary fuck you attitude that had accompanied it.
“I didn’t mean it.”
“Mean what?”
“What I said about it being a one time thing. I never wanted that.”
“Sawyer, it’s a little too late for this now. I’ve made up my mind. I’m with Kate.” Jack says firmly and Sawyer nods, feeling his throat constrict, his breathing growing slightly tight.
“Right. Well. It was worth a shot.” Sawyer lets it go, unwilling to keep pressing on, try to convince Jack to re-think it. He’d gotten exactly what he’d expected - simple, straightforward confirmation of the obvious.
There is silence now between them, something that had never been their style. They warred with words, and the heated, pitched battles they fought with one another verbally were only elaborate games of foreplay that had long continued without the payoff. Engaging Jack in argument is the only way he knows how to reach him but he has no will to argue now, no words left to convince him that he had made the wrong decision.
Jack takes the small flashlight from his pocket and inspects it once again, clicking it on and off and then tapping the side. There’s a highly unscientific manner and basic idiocy that comes along with trying to fix something that’s definitely beyond broken, but Jack tries anyway. Sawyer knows that Jack is only doing so because he needs something to do.
He reaches out and takes the small tube from Jack’s loose grip and tosses it to the ground, hearing but not seeing it crack, maybe breaking into pieces. Jack begins to protest Sawyer’s action but is stopped before a noise can even escape his throat by Sawyer’s lips claiming his possessively, his tongue plunging deep into the well of his mouth. The kiss is hard and desperate and Jack stumbles backward from the sheer force of it. Sawyer grips the front of his shirt, fingers wrapped harshly and tightly in the light fabric, firstly holding him up but then pushing him back violently, sending Jack’s body colliding with the rough wall behind him.
Jack grunts as he connects with the unforgiving surface, uneven and uncomfortable against his back, sharp jagged edges digging into his skin and rubbing against his shoulder blades. Water drips down over the rugged planes of the jutting rocks, stinging cold as it seeps through Jack’s shirt and reaches his quickly warming skin. Sawyer presses his body hard against Jack's, pinning him firmly, working his thigh between Jack’s legs and rubbing against him with clear intent and purpose. He wants Jack, wants his hands on every last inch of him.
Heat radiates from their bodies and envelopes them both entirely as swift and sudden as stepping out from the shade into the beating summer sun, the cool, stale air of the tunnel suddenly becoming hot and heady. Jack’s smell invades Sawyer’s senses, indefinable and erotic, sweat clinging to his skin. Sawyer whispers something unintelligible against Jack’s lips and Jack groans, instantly going hard. Sawyer feels him thicken, feels him strain, and feels his own excitement grow, his cock twitching inside the restriction of his normally loose denims. This is what he wants, Jack writhing against him, letting him grind hard and fast down onto him.
But in the next moment Jack is tearing his lips away from Sawyer’s, gasping for air.
“Sawyer, stop.” Jack attempts to demand but it comes out as a weak plea. Sawyer shakes his head no quickly, sharply, twice, and lets go of Jack’s shirt, moving his hands to the sides of Jack’s face. He pulls Jack’s head toward his with a rough jerk, angling and turning one direction and then twisting back the other way, capturing Jack’s kiss no matter where Jack tries to take it.
Sawyer rocks his hips toward Jack’s, relishing the way Jack’s body fits perfectly against his, like no woman ever has. Everything about Jack seems meant for him. His hands curve effortlessly over the angle of his waist, their mouths move with ease and elegance even when they’re barely in control of their actions. He is just the right height that requires no awkward bending or leaning; it’s chest against chest, hips against hips, legs between legs, like the final pieces in a puzzle that have no doubt where they belong.
“I’m not stopping unless you make me,” Sawyer finally murmurs in response to Jack’s words and Jack merely lets out a small whimper of acquiesce, his own hips thrusting forward off the wall and meeting Sawyer’s. His strong hands, which had been pushing against Sawyer’s chest, give up their unusually weak effort and seek what they desire, smoothing down Sawyer’s chest and around to the small of his back, urging Sawyer forward. “Jack…fuck…” Sawyer breathes a long exhalation of pleasure, feeling dizzy and hot as Jack begins to kiss him back with a new sense of urgency, his tongue now dueling with his, no longer letting Sawyer control the meeting of their lips.
Sawyer’s fingers grip Jack’s zipper and pull it down eagerly, the permission given to him in the way Jack’s mouth moves over his, the way Jack’s body arches into his touch and the way he lets out those helpless moans from the back of his throat. The steel teeth of his zipper scrape against the back of Sawyer’s hand, tearing at his skin when he slips his hand inside, not bothering to shift Jack’ jeans out of the way in his desperation to wrap his hand around Jack’s hard cock.
He holds him gently for a moment, feeling the weight and heat of him heavy in his palm. He hadn’t forgotten how amazing it felt to have Jack in his grasp yet it is better than he remembers. Sawyer tries to use his free hand to tug down Jack’s jeans and boxers but Jack’s kisses make it hard to concentrate and using his right hand to do anything requiring coordination proves to be difficult.
Breaking their kiss, Jack pulls back, panting heavily, and quickly shoves down his clothes for Sawyer. Sawyer bites back his moan when Jack is exposed to his desirous gaze, dark hair curling around the base in stark contrast to his pale skin. Jack’s cock strains upward against the flat plane of his stomach now that his jeans are no longer a constriction and Sawyer devours the sight of it, his mouth going dry and his heart racing as he contemplates dropping to his knees right there and swallowing him down whole.
Jack doesn’t give him time to ponder his many options, his lips retaking Sawyer’s in a demanding and forceful kiss, his fingers tangling in the long golden stands of Sawyer’s messy hair, the heel of his palms brushing against the rough stubble of his cheeks whenever his hands pull forward to guide Sawyer’s face back to his.
Sawyer grips Jack’s erection in his left hand while his right clenches over the sharp bone of Jack’s hip, holding Jack back to give his arm room to maneuver between their tight bodies. Firmly sliding up and then down, Jack is velvet soft under his sweaty palm. His thoughts flash back to that morning weeks ago, he and Kate’s hands clasped together over Jack’s trembling cock as he lay prone before them on the bed. He could’ve watched that forever, his fingers sliding up and down Jack’s length, making his body tense with expectation, the hope and need for long-awaited release flickering over his beautiful face.
He wants to look at him now, see his eyelids flutter closed when he’s desperately trying to keep them open. He wants to see Jack succumb to it, this base instinctual pleasure that seems to spark between them so easily, like a match to kerosene - one move, one simple strike, one flick of the wrist, and everything could explode in flame, just like that.
Sawyer wants to look, wants to witness every instant, but he can’t tear his lips away from Jack’s, can’t stop himself from dipping his tongue deep inside his mouth and drawing out another groan. So Sawyer loses himself in Jack’s kiss, moving his hand slowly and rhythmically up and down Jack’s length, holding him firmly but not hard. Sawyer savors the sensation as Jack moans into his mouth, the reverberation sending a jolt right down his spine, feeling the noise in every cell of his body.
He wants everything. He wants Jack to fuck him, hard and fast, like their meeting in the jungle. He wants to thrust himself into Jack’s body, feel him come, tightening around him, milking him dry. No Kate this time, just him and Jack, Sawyer’s hands free to guide Jack over the edge, hold him until every last rolling aftershock runs through his wasted body. He wants to hold Jack deep inside his mouth and have Jack take him in as well, to feel every surface of his body with his hands, his lips, his tongue…Sawyer wants to do it all and do it right now, but he knows that he can’t.
Jack makes the choice for him, suddenly tearing away and sinking to his knees between Sawyer and the wall, frantically trying to unbutton Sawyer’s jeans. Sawyer’s mind races and his pulse pounds so fast he doesn’t know how his heart can be beating this fast and not give out.
“Jack…” he whispers brokenly, not sure that Jack’s choice is one he agrees with. He needs more than this, wants to come inside him. But when Jack unzips him and takes his throbbing cock into his hand, guiding it toward his kiss-swollen lips, Sawyer hasn’t the strength to protest.
Jack’s tongue darts out and sweeps across his tip; Sawyer swears, biting his lip. His body reacts violently and he nearly thrusts forward, hard, toward Jack’s face, not able to help it. He quickly puts both hands on the wall in front of him and uses it to keep himself up, keep himself steady.
He lets his head fall forward, the cascade of his long blonde hair falling around his face like a curtain to block out everything except the sight of Jack, down on his knees in the dim half-light of this tunnel in the middle of the night. Another stolen moment that Jack will probably regret later, another mistake that he’ll beat himself up for.
If Sawyer were a better man, a stronger man, he would stop this and walk away, for Kate’s sake, for Jack’s sake and his own.
But then again, if he were a better man, he never would have come down to the hatch in the first place. He never would have snuck down here and cornered Jack alone. He had tried once to do the right thing and close that door, let it go, but it only swung open once more, demanding that he walk through it whether Jack would be waiting there for him or not.
Now he’s on the other side, and Jack is here, but Sawyer has no clue what they’re going to do once this is over. Staying away from one another clearly isn’t an option.
Sawyer reaches down with one hand and rubs his fingers over Jack’s closely shorn hair as Jack sucks on his sensitive head, his tongue moving in small circles growing smaller and smaller, making his way up to the slit and playing along it in a way that could easily drive Sawyer insane with lust. He bathes the tiny area with attention, ignoring the rest of Sawyer’s blatant need, apparently content to draw this out as long as possible. This strikes Sawyer as odd because he had expected the opposite, if anything at all - that Jack would want it hard and fast and in a hurry, his conscience not allowing him to linger in the moment and consider his actions carefully.
But Jack takes his time, working his way down him slowly. His tongue traces the pulsating vein along the underside of his cock before he buries his face between Sawyer’s legs, kissing and licking around his wide base. Then he is sliding lower and taking Sawyer’s balls into the wet heat of his mouth one at a time, sucking on them delicately at first and then with more pressure, rolling them over the flat of his tongue. Sawyer hisses, a curse pushing past his lips, the pleasure so intense that he immediately starts to leak, a drop of pearly white come seeping from his tip.
“How the fuck are you so good at this…” Sawyer wonders in a breathless moan, letting his chin fall against his chest. Jack seems to have a preternatural understanding of everything that drives Sawyer crazy, every movement he makes deliberately pushing Sawyer closer to the edge and not letting up. Jack only replies to Sawyer’s words by taking in his length, his cheeks hollowing as he begins to suck, pulling him in deeper. Sawyer decides that Jack must react to the same things, must be doing what he likes himself, and he notes every last little thing he can in an attempt to more aptly return the favor later, but cataloging Jack’s methods is growing increasingly difficult as his mind grows hazy.
His right arm, solely supporting his weight off of the wall, begins to tremble, the toned muscles straining under the intense pressure of holding his entire body up for so long. His entire body seems to tighten and quiver, his abs pulled taut, moving shallow and fast as the pace of his breathing quickens, trying to hold back the inevitable as long as possible.
Sawyer switches arms, his right hand dropping down to Jack’s head and his left sliding over the surface of the wall, feeling it damp and slick under his palm. Jack’s hands move as well, slipping from their place on his thighs around to his ass, his strong fingers kneading his skin and pushing his entire body forward. Sawyer lets Jack lean him into it, lets Jack decide how deep he can handle. Jack’s throat is wide open and relaxed, swallowing around him.
“Christ, that feels so fucking good…” He gasps, wincing at the overwhelming pleasure that shoots through him as Jack swallows once more. He switches hands again, and then again, left to right to left, trying to keep himself from holding Jack’s head to him and thrusting as hard into that wet heat as his body wants him to. Finally he gives up entirely, leaning forward further and letting his forehead rest against the wall instead, both hands roaming over Jack’s short hair and his body one step away from collapsing.
The wall seems to buzz and hum against his skin, emitting a strange kind of audible reverb that runs through his entire body and is echoed in the low, sexy noises that Jack is making. The tunnel feels alive, absorbing every last wave of desire that emanates from them both and closing in tighter around them, the world narrowing to just this place, just this time. The hum seems to grow louder inside Sawyer’s head, drowning out the drip of the water from the ceiling to the floor, the buzz of the dim lights and the distant sound of night in the jungle that wafts down from the hatch entrance, 40 feet up yet still close enough for the last remains of a tropical breeze to circle through the tunnel.
Sawyer is panting now, a quivering mess of lust and desire, mumbling incoherently, not even sure what he is saying any more but not able to stop. Jack makes an indescribable noise in response and Sawyer can see Jack thrust his own hips, the natural urge still there even if his cock hangs untouched between his legs. Sawyer considers tearing away from Jack and dropping to the ground, turning him around and getting inside him, fucking him hard, but it’s too late.
Jack moans and Sawyer feels his cock brush against the back of Jack’s throat, feels Jack’s tongue surge along his length, his lips wrapped tightly around him. Heat pools in the pit of his stomach, the slow sensual burn of anticipation drawing into a tight knot, all intense heat and desire tugging on his insides and making his head spin before it suddenly spreads out through his veins like wildfire, overwhelming every inch of his body with too much sensation, making his legs and hands go blissfully numb and emptying his mind of every thought except now.
His vision blurs, the darkness of their surroundings blowing out into a flash of blinding white and then fading back slowly in a shifting mass of indescribable transitory colors that dance before his eyes. For one brief suspended moment there is nothing but pleasure, making him feel weightless as all his pent up emotion escapes his body. He lets it go, emptying himself with a hard shudder, a hot stream of come pouring from his cock and coating the back of Jack’s throat while everything that can’t be said with his body escapes from his mouth, whisperings of uncontrolled desire and uncensored honesty in between the sweet drawl of Jack’s name as it leaves his lips.
Jack swallows and swallows long after Sawyer stops pumping into him, easing off and letting Sawyer pull out of his throat but still holding him in his mouth. Where he had just been working him roughly, he now treats with softness and delicacy, licking instead of sucking, his tongue swirling gently around him as he slowly draws away and lets Sawyer’s wasted cock slip from between his lips.
The second it does, Sawyer falls to his knees with a resounding thud, not feeling the pain of his body hitting hard against concrete. He doesn’t give Jack an opportunity to react; his mouth is on his, his hands clasping both sides of Jack’s face as he kisses him with reckless abandon, tasting himself on Jack’s tongue, on his lips. They devour one another greedily, Jack’s erection pressing hard against Sawyer’s stomach and Sawyer feeling almost insatiable. As hard as he had just come, it wasn’t nearly enough; he wants to continue feeling that way, lost entirely in Jack and only Jack.
Before he knows what he’s doing, he’s pressing Jack backward, first against the wall, then urging him down onto the floor. Jack complies, his breath pushing out in short, forceful gasps as his chest rises and falls rapidly beneath his plaid shirt, his face flushed and his lips flushed red and swollen. His face is rosy, sweat dripping from his brow, his eyes wild and dark. Jack slumps back half-supported by the wall, his shoulders and head leaning against the cement. Sawyer guides Jack’s legs out and nudges them apart, situating himself between them.
Jack stares at him, looking like he wants to speak but can’t find the words. Sawyer grips the waistline of the jeans and boxers that are already loose and shoved halfway down Jack’s sharp hips and tugs downward, pulling them down his thighs and calves, letting his fingernails curl over the edge of the denim and cotton to rake down his body. Faint red trails appear on Jack’s pale skin and quickly disappear, leaving his perfection unblemished.
Sawyer is suddenly overcome with the desire to mark him, both on the tanned, roughened, exposed skin of his throat and the pale, untouched angle of his hip bone, the firmness of his thigh. One mark for others to see, one mark just for Jack’s eyes only. But he can’t claim Jack as his own; he’s merely borrowing him, stealing precious time from whom it really belongs.
Jack’s not his. And never will be.
The idea is hard enough to contemplate for someone who had never wanted to belong and never desired anyone to belong to him in return, much less face that what he wants, he cannot have. It figures, he thinks as he pulls Jack’s jeans over his feet. Life’s cruelty never ceased, teaching him how it felt to love again only to turn around and remind him how it felt to lose.
He throws the worrisome thought off to the side along with Jack’s jeans and focuses his eyes back on Jack’s face, forcing himself to remain in this moment, to enjoy it fully in case it is the last one.
Pain later. Pleasure now.
Holding Jack’s gaze, he kneels between Jack’s legs again and bends down, his hands running up Jack’s outer thighs while his lips and tongue trace a line up the soft skin on the inside. He lets his eyes drift closed, he lets Jack’s taste overcome the rest of his senses, sweat and desire running over his tongue.
“Sawyer…” Jack murmurs and Sawyer shakes his head, his soft hair brushing against Jack’s legs as he moves to bathe attention on the opposite leg, licking and kissing his way up and then moving outward along the crease of Jack’s leg and hip. He wants nothing more than to take Jack’s hard, throbbing cock into his mouth - it is tantalizingly close and Sawyer can feel the familiar twitch in Jack’s abdomen as he pushes Jack’s shirt upward and slides his lips over his stomach. It would be so easy to swallow him, get him off, but Jack had taken his time with him and Sawyer wants to do the same.
So instead he wraps his hand firmly around Jack’s dick and pushes down, moving him out of the way for his mouth to continue its exploration. Jack lets out a heavenly sigh as Sawyer dips his tongue into his navel, circling around it lightly before flicking down again. His hips urge upward, just slightly, impatient, pleading, but not demanding, despite his obvious need.
Sawyer follows the delicate trail of hair down, letting his mouth linger there, kissing the skin there as thoroughly as he would kiss Jack’s lips. Jack tangles his fingers through Sawyer’s hair, stroking backward from root to tip, tugging hard enough to make him feel it but light enough that it doesn’t hurt him. Sawyer revels in it, the gesture surprisingly thrilling him in a sensual but not sexual manner, feeling it squeeze in his heart instead of his gut, in his cock.
He hesitates, lifting his head, his eyes locking on Jack’s. He stops moving completely and just looks at Jack, watches as his gaze shifts from desire to confusion.
“Sawyer?” Jack asks softly when Sawyer remains frozen in place, his hair messy and hanging in his face, his eyes brimming with emotion that he simply doesn’t posses the skill to express. The only movement he makes is the gentle circle of his thumb over Jack’s left hip, not knowing what else to do. "What's wrong?"
“Nothin’…” Sawyer finally murmurs, leaning forward, placing his hands on either side of Jack’s body and resting his weight on his knuckles as he moves in to kiss him. A tentative brush of lips, back, forth, once, twice, and then a sudden surge forward and a quick impassioned kiss, then Sawyer is slowly pulling away. He opens his eyes and waits for Jack to open his, long eyelashes fluttering softly. “Nothin’ at all…”
He slides back down Jack’s body and doesn’t tease this time, doesn’t pause to try and work him up. He’s ready and Sawyer can’t deny him or himself any longer. He circles Jack’s base with his hand and fists him once, then guides him into his eager mouth. Sawyer moves in a purposeful attempt to mimic what Jack had done to him, knowing there was a reason Jack had chosen to do what he did. Sure enough, Jack reacts, growing harder when Sawyer had thought any more stimulation would have simply caused him to explode.
His cock strains, hot and heavy on Sawyer’s tongue and Sawyer swears he can feel the blood racing through the vein, traces his tongue along the ridge to feel the throb of it. Jack whimpers and his legs spread wider, trying to give Sawyer better access, more room to move.
Sawyer glances up at him and sees Jack lean his head back, arching his neck and biting his lip. Sawyer slips his mouth down, dragging his teeth very lightly down his entire length before pausing to suck solely on the sensitive head as Jack had started with him. Jack’s eyes fly open and he drops his head back down, cursing.
Following Jack’s example, Sawyer then slides his lips down, laving his balls with his tongue before encircling them with his wet mouth. Jack’s hand is suddenly on his own cock, desperate for release, no longer able to withstand what Sawyer is doing to him. He strokes himself once, his hips pistoning upward.
Sawyer quickly moves, one hand pinning down Jack’s rocking hips and the other covering the hand on his cock, holding his grip down, keeping him from pumping.
“Please, Sawyer…god damn it, please,” Jack begs, eyes closed and then open, the throbbing between his legs nearly tumbling over from enjoyable to plain painful. Sawyer uses his hand and Jack’s to lead Jack’s hardness back into his waiting mouth and then lets go, but not of Jack’s hand. He twines his fingers with Jack’s tightly, lets their combined grasp fall to the side of their bodies.
Jack cries out loudly the next instant, gripping Sawyer’s hand hard as he thrusts passed Sawyer’s lips three times, short and shallow but with great force, coming inside, his taste invading Sawyer’s mouth, bathing his tongue in it.
Letting Jack go, Sawyer immediately lunges forward and kisses Jack as if he can’t stop himself. They both collapse together, falling sideways onto the cold cement floor, wrapped in one another’s arms. Sawyer can only imagine the sight they must be - Jack naked from the waist down, Sawyer’s jeans unbuttoned, their legs tangling as they writhe against one another on the ground.
They break away from one another simultaneously, gasping for air, barely able to breathe, and roll onto their backs, laying side by side.
“That was…”
“Yeah…” Jack agrees, bringing his hands up to his face for a moment and then returning them down to his side. “Fuck.”
“Yeah.” Sawyer nods and turns onto his side, running his fingers down Jack’s now limp cock, stroking him slowly, gently. Not to get him hard, but simply to touch him. Jack turns his head and looks at Sawyer, questioning, and Sawyer dips his head to give him a reassuring kiss. It quickly grows into something more, yet still it remains sweet and loving, content to have the moment be solely about this simple exchange.
The hatch is incredibly quiet now, the low magnetic hum the only sound. Sawyer rolls on top of Jack, lets Jack’s hands work underneath his shirt, lets him slowly pull it off over his head. His lips travel over the expanse of newly exposed skin, exploring every inch with his hands, feeling Sawyer’s muscles shift and roll as they rock against one another
They lose themselves completely in it, continuing on for nearly twenty minutes, only pausing to breathe. Sawyer can’t remember a time when he has made out like this, been involved in such heavy post-coital petting. Considering the illicit nature of their entire interaction, he knows that remaining locked together like this is courting danger, that they’re practically begging for someone to walk in on them, but he can’t muster the decency to care any more.
Jack starts to slow down, the entire encounter edging him toward sleep; soon he is simply holding Sawyer, stroking the side of his face lovingly, exhaustion evident in his eyes. Sawyer tries to ignore his growing hard-on, which had started when his mouth was wrapped around Jack’s cock and had been lingering ever since somewhere between vague arousal and full-on excitement.
“I think…” Jack whispers, glancing at Sawyer as he pulls away, rolling onto his back, and then looking up toward the ceiling. He brings one hand to his forehead, his brow creasing.
“Yeah, you think…?” Sawyer prompts, smiling faintly. He slips his hand inside Jack’s half-open plaid shirt, working downwards and prying the buttons open. Pushing the flaps of light fabric out of his way, he lets his hand move over Jack’s chest, his fingers running through his coarse chest hair. Sawyer moves closer, fitting his leg over Jack’s, pressing his erection into Jack’s hip, letting him know it’s there. Jack doesn’t finish his thought so Sawyer nuzzles his face into his neck, placing light kisses along the curve of his neck. “I think I want you all over again…”
Jack doesn’t reply but he doesn’t rebuff Sawyer’s advances, doesn’t push his hand away when his fingers slide through the thatch of curly hair around the base of his soft cock, stroking gently. Sawyer grunts as he then pushes himself up and straddles Jack’s waist, the rough denim of his jeans chaffing Jack’s bare skin until he rises slightly, holding himself above him.
He pushes Jack’s shirt wide open and then takes his dick in his hand, stroking himself hard and fast to bring himself all the way up. Jack’s eyes fixate on Sawyer’s action and Sawyer nearly comes right then and there when he sees Jack lick his lips.
“What you thinkin’ now?” Sawyer asks, a wicked grin playing over his lips. He doesn’t need an answer, doesn’t care if Jack’s thinking that this is the last time, that this can never happen again. All Sawyer can concentrate on is how fucking beautiful Jack looks, splayed out underneath him, and how badly he wants to fucking come, come hard all over him, paint his chest with it, rub it over his skin, claim him as his, even if he can simply wash it away, rid himself of Sawyer’s reminder. Sawyer can’t mark him in a way Kate could see, but he could have this, if only for a moment.
“I’m thinking…I thinking that I need you, Sawyer…” Jack whispers. “I thinking that I fucking need you.”
Sawyer is taken aback by his words for only a split second, shocked as they hit him hard right in the heart.
He can convince himself later that Jack didn’t really mean it.
Now, looking at Jack, he can’t believe otherwise. The honesty is there, wide open.
Sawyer tells Jack with a kiss that he knows and that he needs him too.
“I’m going to fuck you, Doc.” Sawyer nibbles the bottom of Jack’s ear as he says this, low and husky, surprising even himself with how lustful it sounds. It’s pure sex, a declaration of wanton lust that is borne from some place deeper, some place more real. “I have to.”
Jack nods and Sawyer nods back, just once, before pulling back and stripping off his jeans as quickly as he can, then kneeling between Jack’s legs.
Without another word, he pushes Jack’s legs wide open, spreading him, then finds his tight entrance with one finger. He brushes over it, circles around it, pushes in gently, then harder. Jack opens for him immediately, forcing his body to relax. Two fingers, then three. Stroking and pushing, brushing over the swollen gland and making Jack cry out, groan in pleasure.
Sawyer takes hold of Jack’s now erect dick and holds him firmly, fisting him a few times before peeling his hand away, using it to guide himself to Jack’s tight entrance.
He finds Jack’s gaze and asks him silently if he’s ready and Jack’s look only says pleasenowplease.
Sawyer eagerly obliges his request, pushing all the way in with one thrust, Jack giving and then tightening and then giving again, his body adjusting to the sudden invasion.
“Jack…god, Jack…you’re so…god, I can’t stop this. I need to keep doing this.”
“Don’t stop.”
“Ever, Jack…can’t stop…ever…need you too bad…” Sawyer knows he’s putting his weakness on display, setting himself up for the fall, but in the heat of the moment he’s lost his ability to control what he says. This isn’t a show, isn’t a con. He can’t hide behind a façade now, Jack’s already seen him and it’s too late to pretend otherwise.
“Need you too, please don’t stop.” Jack rocks his hips to meet Sawyer’s thrusts, setting up a fast rhythm that seems all too natural between the two of them, their bodies setting to one another’s like it’s second nature, like they’ve been doing this for years. This part is so easy, so perfect, that Sawyer has a hard time believing that it’s wrong. He knows Kate would think otherwise.
“Sawyer…SawyerSawyerSawyer…” Jack pants, his hands clawing at Sawyer’s back, short fingernails digging into his flesh, his legs wrapping around Sawyer’s waist tightly as Sawyer pounds into him.
“Jack…Jack!” A long, loud groan and it’s over for them both. Jack comes all over Sawyer’s chest and Sawyer thinks through his sex-induced haze that it’s oddly appropriate. He had wanted to mark Jack as his but instead Jack had marked him instead, driving the point home hard.
Jack may never be his, but he’s definitely Jack’s.
They stay as they are for one eternal moment, Sawyer frozen above him, inside him, Jack’s legs crossed behind his back, locked around Sawyer’s body. They fall back to earth like wafting leaves, circling and floating, not wanting to hit the ground and admit their time is over.
Sawyer returns to himself first, reaching behind him and pulling away Jack’s legs, slowly pulling out. Jack makes a noise of discomfort and Sawyer strokes his ankle lightly as he sets his legs back down on the ground.
Jack doesn’t move, doesn’t speak.
“Well…” Sawyer coughs. He reaches for his clothes, scattered around them messily, but when he swivels back to look at Jack, he finds Jack sitting up, reaching out for him. His hand connects with his shoulder, spreading his fingers over the strong curve of it.
“Sawyer…”
“Don’t, Jack.” Sawyer mumbles, sensing that Jack's about to make it impossible for him to walk away, only to find that Jack will change his mind and leave him behind. "Can't have it both ways." He braces himself, thinking that the hope Claire had given him was false hope, that Jack's choice will still be the same in the end.
So it’s a surprise when Jack leans in and lets his lips dance over his.
“Don’t make me think about it now, Sawyer.”
Sawyer doesn’t know what to say so he nods, mumbling something like okay when he honestly has no idea if it really is.
All he can do is stand up and gather their clothes in his arms, offer Jack his hand to help him from the floor.
He knows deep down that he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t indulge this fantasy any longer. It’s dangerous, to no one moreso than himself.
But when Jack walks to the bedroom, Sawyer has no choice but to follow.
TBC
Go Forward to: Part Four
Go back to: Part One | Part Two