Lost fic: Gordian Knot [JKS, NC17]
Disclaimer: Lost is not mine.
Summary: Kate's not the only one who wants them both. Jack/Kate/Sawyer, adult material. Sequel to Incomplete.
Notes: For psych_30 #23, Vicarious. Also fanfic100 #084, He. Thanks to alliecat8 for the quick beta.
Gordian Knot
by eponine119
August 15, 2006
Kate's noticed something different about Jack lately. She can't quite put her finger on what it is at first. In the bright sunlight of day, he talks to her the same as he ever did. She's on his team, here on the island, important to him, but at the same times she's just one of many voices to be listened to. Until the sun wavers on the horizon and they find themselves alone, sitting shoulder to shoulder, watching the waves break on the sand.
His eyes don't quite focus on hers. She blinks to make sure. He's watching someone in the distance behind her. She knows from the expression on his face that he's half-listening to her, and she lets her words trickle to a stop. Somehow she thought things would be different on the island -- that Jack was different -- that he wasn't only interested in the thrill of the chase.
She's the one who gets up to walk away. The only person behind them is Sawyer, nose stuck in a book, and she doesn't think anything of it.
…
Jack's different at night. At first Kate thought it just the shift from newness to intimacy, but now she knows she was wrong.
He touches her with hands that aren't gentle. His mouth claims hers, but it isn't a kiss at all, it's possession. His tongue is bold and hot, snaking into her mouth even before their lips meet and she recognizes something in her swift, visceral reaction. It's confirmed in her mind when he sinks his teeth into her shoulder, his grunt extinguished by her skin as he shoves into her.
This is not Jack at all. This is Jack making love to her the way Sawyer would. The way he thinks Sawyer would.
She scrabbles her fingers through his cropped hair, trying to find something to seize onto. "Hey," she says, but his eyes are closed as he concentrates. "Jack," she whispers as the tension flows from his body into hers.
He clutches at her, strong arms enfolding her, and this is the Jack she recognizes, if only for a flicker before he falls asleep. She lies awake in the darkness, stroking his head with her hand. She's pretended in the past. Pretended her partner was someone else. Never with Jack, but with others. But she's never pretended that she was someone else. She can't quite wrap her mind around it, but she tries.
…
"Maybe we should do it again," Jack says abruptly in the middle a conversation about something else entirely, and the sad part is Kate knows exactly what he means. He blinks and looks at her with eyes that are intensely dark, and she wonders how she could have ever asked him to invite someone else into their bed, if it made him feel like she feels now.
"We should," she agrees, because that's how she is. "Definitely," she adds, so there's no question of her humoring him. "Soon," she says. It's too much, but he doesn't notice.
…
"We want you again," she says, and there's no denying it makes her feel powerful even though it's Jack's request now and not hers.
Sawyer looks up at her with bedroom eyes, a slow smile spreading across his face. He doesn't have to say a word. "It was only a question of when, sweetheart," he says, like he expected it. But she knows him too well to believe his bullshit. He never expected this at all, and his heart is fluttering away in his chest double-time.
…
He comes to them early in the evening that very same night. Kate hasn't had a chance to bring it up with Jack. They're trying to decide definitively on the worst movie ever made, but the playful atmosphere dissolves in an instant when Sawyer stumbles into their space.
Kate looks to Jack, expecting him to raise an eyebrow at her, but his eyes fix on Sawyer. Sawyer's head is down, his version of shyness, but he's looking at Jack. For a moment Kate expects them to attack each other, fists flying in a heated struggle for dominance. But there's just heat; they just look.
It does things to her. She feels a surge of excitement flow through her and her pulse kicks up. Her body throbs with the remembrance of the way they felt inside her, and she can't wait to feel that again. One hand slides under the hem of her shirt, rubbing against her stomach in anticipation as she thinks of pulling the shirt off, but neither of them is looking at her. They're looking at each other, and she wants it to stop.
Kate winds her arm around Jack's waist, pulling him in against her. She buries her face in his chest and she can feel that he's hard already, straining. She slides her hand down the front of his pants, not far enough to touch him, just far enough to tease. She feels his body move and it makes her smile against his shirt.
But she thinks she knows the purpose of all this, based on the way he made love to her the other night. She thinks he wants to watch them together. So she breaks away from him, careening over to Sawyer. His hand slides down over the curve of her ass as he accepts her body against his, pulling her in closer. He's still looking at Jack.
She pulls at his shirt, wanting it off. With one hand he tugs absently at hers. Sawyer never works very hard at anything, Kate thinks with frustration, but then she realizes she can feel the slow circles his hand is making against her back all the way to the core of her body. She is frantic and he is calm, and it tightens the springs of arousal deep within her.
If he kissed her now, it would be agonizingly slow, but he doesn't. She can feel the heat of his breath against her scalp, lips grazing her hairline with the swaying of his body. Kate can't wait for something to happen.
His hand drags through her hair as she sinks to her knees before him. She cups him with her hand as she wets her lips, preparing herself for him. His hand is still on her head as she yanks down his loose jeans, freeing his cock.
Before, the focus was on her. She didn't have time for details. He's different from Jack, thick where Jack is long, beautiful in his own way. He sighs when she takes him into her mouth. Her eyes are closed; they always are when she does this, and she savors the way he digs both hands into her hair.
She feels Jack's heat. She hears the rasp of his fingers against Sawyer's beard, and the sound of them kissing gently, over her head. Sawyer's cock slips out of her mouth and she opens her eyes. Jack is angled in, and his hands are knotted in Sawyer's hair. In the moment it takes her to vacate the space between them, it's filled again, their bodies colliding hard and sensually. Sawyer's hand slides over Jack's hip, the way it slid over hers mere moments ago, and Kate realizes this was never about her.
"God," Jack murmurs, half-disgusted and half-intoxicated, as he breaks away. His lips are swollen and Kate wants to suck on them, but she hangs back, even as Jack's hands skim her body. She lets him pull the shirt over her head, and she knows Sawyer's eyes are on her now. She's wearing a bra for once and she presses her lips together, still tasting Sawyer, as Jack unfastens it. Jack's undressed her before, but not like this.
Her fingers are numb against the zipper of his jeans. "Touch her," Jack says, pushing her hands away with his. He undoes his own zipper as Sawyer's fingers thread through hers, their palms pressed together in a fight that's almost like dancing. His forehead butts against her collarbone and he takes her nipple into his mouth, holding her hands out and away from her body with his.
His tongue is as rough as the scrape of his stubble against her skin. She can feel that southern drawl in the way his tongue moves, awkward and sweet. Jack pulls down her jeans and Sawyer's hands smooth his touch away. He's not rough the way Jack was, when Jack was pretending he was Sawyer.
Sawyer's mouth bumps down, skimming her belly. Her knees buckle when he puts his mouth between her thighs, and she gives a little cry that Jack's never heard before. They shift so that she's lying down, knees up and thighs wide. When she opens her eyes, she sees Jack's face through unfocused eyes. He's looking down at her intently and his face is flushed pink and he's got her hands now, holding her down as she writhes.
Sawyer is looking at him for approval. "I want to see you fuck her," Jack breathes, and Kate thinks she's going to say something, maybe even protest, but all that seeps from her lips is a breathless kitten noise. Her body is already convulsing, pre-orgasm, as Sawyer fills her slowly. She struggles under Jack's hands, but he's strong, and there's nowhere for her to go.
Having Sawyer inside her -- finally -- is nothing like she ever thought it would be. He's slow and careful, just like that voice of his, measured thrusts stretching her deep until she can't stand it anymore and she shudders feverishly on the downstroke. She wants it fast and hard and over. She wants him to hurt her, but he won't.
Coming around him is like coming around steel, and it sends a secondary wave crashing over her. All the while, she's aware of Jack's hands on her, tethering her to reality. She'll have bruises in the morning. Still, her body aches for more as Sawyer pulls out of her, still hard. His eyes are dark and his body is tight with the effort.
"I want you," Jack whispers, razor soft. He lets Kate go but she can't move, because the words are meant for Sawyer. Jack puts his mouth on Sawyer's cock, taking him deep. She curls onto her side, drawing up her knees, knowing Jack can taste her on Sawyer's skin. Sawyer's legs tremble.
His left hand reaches out blindly for Jack, but Kate gets there first. Her selfish fingers encircle Jack's engorged flesh. Jack's hand takes hers, not to encourage but to remove her, but Sawyer's hand closes over Jack's. The three of them, interlocked, working together.
The ragged anguish of the sound torn from Sawyer's lips when he comes is enough to make Kate's body clutch again. He made that sound for Jack and not for her. Jack swallows and still her hand is trapped beneath theirs. It's Sawyer's name that Jack cries as he spills his seed into her palm. It's Sawyer's mouth that he kisses, and all she can do is watch in fascination.
This isn't how Jack kisses her. Not as Jack, not as Sawyer. This is someone she doesn't know, and her skin is vaguely cold. She remembers Jack's protest when she first broached the idea -- "I'm not attracted to him" -- and she knows that Jack was lying, whether he knew it at the time or not.
She wants to put herself between them again, but she's afraid that this time they'll both push her away. So she waits until their kisses subside, until she recognizes the way Jack's body settles against Sawyer's in his sleep. Only then does she move in, trying to be content with the heat from their relaxed bodies. Sawyer crests from dozing just long enough to pull her into their complicated embrace, and then he sleeps once more.
Kate thinks she was selfish. She thinks she made a mistake. Yet there's something familiar in this, lying awake against satiated male flesh while Jack snores. Familiar enough to soothe away her fears, at least for now.
End.
Summary: Kate's not the only one who wants them both. Jack/Kate/Sawyer, adult material. Sequel to Incomplete.
Notes: For psych_30 #23, Vicarious. Also fanfic100 #084, He. Thanks to alliecat8 for the quick beta.
Gordian Knot
by eponine119
August 15, 2006
Kate's noticed something different about Jack lately. She can't quite put her finger on what it is at first. In the bright sunlight of day, he talks to her the same as he ever did. She's on his team, here on the island, important to him, but at the same times she's just one of many voices to be listened to. Until the sun wavers on the horizon and they find themselves alone, sitting shoulder to shoulder, watching the waves break on the sand.
His eyes don't quite focus on hers. She blinks to make sure. He's watching someone in the distance behind her. She knows from the expression on his face that he's half-listening to her, and she lets her words trickle to a stop. Somehow she thought things would be different on the island -- that Jack was different -- that he wasn't only interested in the thrill of the chase.
She's the one who gets up to walk away. The only person behind them is Sawyer, nose stuck in a book, and she doesn't think anything of it.
…
Jack's different at night. At first Kate thought it just the shift from newness to intimacy, but now she knows she was wrong.
He touches her with hands that aren't gentle. His mouth claims hers, but it isn't a kiss at all, it's possession. His tongue is bold and hot, snaking into her mouth even before their lips meet and she recognizes something in her swift, visceral reaction. It's confirmed in her mind when he sinks his teeth into her shoulder, his grunt extinguished by her skin as he shoves into her.
This is not Jack at all. This is Jack making love to her the way Sawyer would. The way he thinks Sawyer would.
She scrabbles her fingers through his cropped hair, trying to find something to seize onto. "Hey," she says, but his eyes are closed as he concentrates. "Jack," she whispers as the tension flows from his body into hers.
He clutches at her, strong arms enfolding her, and this is the Jack she recognizes, if only for a flicker before he falls asleep. She lies awake in the darkness, stroking his head with her hand. She's pretended in the past. Pretended her partner was someone else. Never with Jack, but with others. But she's never pretended that she was someone else. She can't quite wrap her mind around it, but she tries.
…
"Maybe we should do it again," Jack says abruptly in the middle a conversation about something else entirely, and the sad part is Kate knows exactly what he means. He blinks and looks at her with eyes that are intensely dark, and she wonders how she could have ever asked him to invite someone else into their bed, if it made him feel like she feels now.
"We should," she agrees, because that's how she is. "Definitely," she adds, so there's no question of her humoring him. "Soon," she says. It's too much, but he doesn't notice.
…
"We want you again," she says, and there's no denying it makes her feel powerful even though it's Jack's request now and not hers.
Sawyer looks up at her with bedroom eyes, a slow smile spreading across his face. He doesn't have to say a word. "It was only a question of when, sweetheart," he says, like he expected it. But she knows him too well to believe his bullshit. He never expected this at all, and his heart is fluttering away in his chest double-time.
…
He comes to them early in the evening that very same night. Kate hasn't had a chance to bring it up with Jack. They're trying to decide definitively on the worst movie ever made, but the playful atmosphere dissolves in an instant when Sawyer stumbles into their space.
Kate looks to Jack, expecting him to raise an eyebrow at her, but his eyes fix on Sawyer. Sawyer's head is down, his version of shyness, but he's looking at Jack. For a moment Kate expects them to attack each other, fists flying in a heated struggle for dominance. But there's just heat; they just look.
It does things to her. She feels a surge of excitement flow through her and her pulse kicks up. Her body throbs with the remembrance of the way they felt inside her, and she can't wait to feel that again. One hand slides under the hem of her shirt, rubbing against her stomach in anticipation as she thinks of pulling the shirt off, but neither of them is looking at her. They're looking at each other, and she wants it to stop.
Kate winds her arm around Jack's waist, pulling him in against her. She buries her face in his chest and she can feel that he's hard already, straining. She slides her hand down the front of his pants, not far enough to touch him, just far enough to tease. She feels his body move and it makes her smile against his shirt.
But she thinks she knows the purpose of all this, based on the way he made love to her the other night. She thinks he wants to watch them together. So she breaks away from him, careening over to Sawyer. His hand slides down over the curve of her ass as he accepts her body against his, pulling her in closer. He's still looking at Jack.
She pulls at his shirt, wanting it off. With one hand he tugs absently at hers. Sawyer never works very hard at anything, Kate thinks with frustration, but then she realizes she can feel the slow circles his hand is making against her back all the way to the core of her body. She is frantic and he is calm, and it tightens the springs of arousal deep within her.
If he kissed her now, it would be agonizingly slow, but he doesn't. She can feel the heat of his breath against her scalp, lips grazing her hairline with the swaying of his body. Kate can't wait for something to happen.
His hand drags through her hair as she sinks to her knees before him. She cups him with her hand as she wets her lips, preparing herself for him. His hand is still on her head as she yanks down his loose jeans, freeing his cock.
Before, the focus was on her. She didn't have time for details. He's different from Jack, thick where Jack is long, beautiful in his own way. He sighs when she takes him into her mouth. Her eyes are closed; they always are when she does this, and she savors the way he digs both hands into her hair.
She feels Jack's heat. She hears the rasp of his fingers against Sawyer's beard, and the sound of them kissing gently, over her head. Sawyer's cock slips out of her mouth and she opens her eyes. Jack is angled in, and his hands are knotted in Sawyer's hair. In the moment it takes her to vacate the space between them, it's filled again, their bodies colliding hard and sensually. Sawyer's hand slides over Jack's hip, the way it slid over hers mere moments ago, and Kate realizes this was never about her.
"God," Jack murmurs, half-disgusted and half-intoxicated, as he breaks away. His lips are swollen and Kate wants to suck on them, but she hangs back, even as Jack's hands skim her body. She lets him pull the shirt over her head, and she knows Sawyer's eyes are on her now. She's wearing a bra for once and she presses her lips together, still tasting Sawyer, as Jack unfastens it. Jack's undressed her before, but not like this.
Her fingers are numb against the zipper of his jeans. "Touch her," Jack says, pushing her hands away with his. He undoes his own zipper as Sawyer's fingers thread through hers, their palms pressed together in a fight that's almost like dancing. His forehead butts against her collarbone and he takes her nipple into his mouth, holding her hands out and away from her body with his.
His tongue is as rough as the scrape of his stubble against her skin. She can feel that southern drawl in the way his tongue moves, awkward and sweet. Jack pulls down her jeans and Sawyer's hands smooth his touch away. He's not rough the way Jack was, when Jack was pretending he was Sawyer.
Sawyer's mouth bumps down, skimming her belly. Her knees buckle when he puts his mouth between her thighs, and she gives a little cry that Jack's never heard before. They shift so that she's lying down, knees up and thighs wide. When she opens her eyes, she sees Jack's face through unfocused eyes. He's looking down at her intently and his face is flushed pink and he's got her hands now, holding her down as she writhes.
Sawyer is looking at him for approval. "I want to see you fuck her," Jack breathes, and Kate thinks she's going to say something, maybe even protest, but all that seeps from her lips is a breathless kitten noise. Her body is already convulsing, pre-orgasm, as Sawyer fills her slowly. She struggles under Jack's hands, but he's strong, and there's nowhere for her to go.
Having Sawyer inside her -- finally -- is nothing like she ever thought it would be. He's slow and careful, just like that voice of his, measured thrusts stretching her deep until she can't stand it anymore and she shudders feverishly on the downstroke. She wants it fast and hard and over. She wants him to hurt her, but he won't.
Coming around him is like coming around steel, and it sends a secondary wave crashing over her. All the while, she's aware of Jack's hands on her, tethering her to reality. She'll have bruises in the morning. Still, her body aches for more as Sawyer pulls out of her, still hard. His eyes are dark and his body is tight with the effort.
"I want you," Jack whispers, razor soft. He lets Kate go but she can't move, because the words are meant for Sawyer. Jack puts his mouth on Sawyer's cock, taking him deep. She curls onto her side, drawing up her knees, knowing Jack can taste her on Sawyer's skin. Sawyer's legs tremble.
His left hand reaches out blindly for Jack, but Kate gets there first. Her selfish fingers encircle Jack's engorged flesh. Jack's hand takes hers, not to encourage but to remove her, but Sawyer's hand closes over Jack's. The three of them, interlocked, working together.
The ragged anguish of the sound torn from Sawyer's lips when he comes is enough to make Kate's body clutch again. He made that sound for Jack and not for her. Jack swallows and still her hand is trapped beneath theirs. It's Sawyer's name that Jack cries as he spills his seed into her palm. It's Sawyer's mouth that he kisses, and all she can do is watch in fascination.
This isn't how Jack kisses her. Not as Jack, not as Sawyer. This is someone she doesn't know, and her skin is vaguely cold. She remembers Jack's protest when she first broached the idea -- "I'm not attracted to him" -- and she knows that Jack was lying, whether he knew it at the time or not.
She wants to put herself between them again, but she's afraid that this time they'll both push her away. So she waits until their kisses subside, until she recognizes the way Jack's body settles against Sawyer's in his sleep. Only then does she move in, trying to be content with the heat from their relaxed bodies. Sawyer crests from dozing just long enough to pull her into their complicated embrace, and then he sleeps once more.
Kate thinks she was selfish. She thinks she made a mistake. Yet there's something familiar in this, lying awake against satiated male flesh while Jack snores. Familiar enough to soothe away her fears, at least for now.
End.