Title:  “A Call to Prayer 2 - Reverence”
Author:  uberaeryn
Fandom:  Lost
Pairing:  Jack/Sawyer
Mild Spoilers for S1
Rating:  Adults Only, Sexual Situations and Language
Summary: Part two in a series of vignettes.

Part one is here.




Sawyer waded into the water slowly, in no hurry, enjoying the warm and almost silken feel of it as it slid up his calves and thighs the further out he went, and then suddenly he dove, went down as deeply as he could and sought out the cooler currents far beneath the surface until the pressure in his ears started to become painful and the need for air couldn’t be fought any longer, then he shot to the surface and floated there for a while, face upturned to the late afternoon sun, eyes closed and mind blank and more relaxed then he could ever remember having been in a long, long while.

Then he felt it, someone’s eyes on him, piercing and sharp and hungry, and he hid a smile as he kept his eyes closed and swam languidly back in the direction of the beach to shallower waters, then he stood, the water line coming to just beneath his waist, and he flung his wet hair out of his eyes and finally met Jack’s gaze, cocking out one hip and tilting his head and crossing his arms, posing, quite deliberately, and challenging, waiting, daring.

Jack stood on the beach, arms crossed and one hand rubbing absently at his jaw as he regarded Sawyer with eyes so dark they almost seemed black, then his hands suddenly went to the buttons of his shirt, undoing each one quickly, and Sawyer sank back into the water slowly, keeping himself afloat with a languid, forward sweep of his arms. He watched Jack closely as he rid himself of his shirt and he allowed himself a moment to enjoy the view, his eyes running across Jack’s chest and arms before he dove again, this time making his way to a cluster of rocks and boulders that jutted out of the water like statues placed there by a race of people long dead, gone, people that had worshipped the sun and had held the water and the island itself in reverence, people from a time and a place prior to the island’s possession by whatever evil had hold of it now.

It hadn’t been his intention to hide but it took Jack far too long to find him and by the time they collided against one another in ocean waist-deep, hidden from the view of the others on the beach by the ancient stone statues placed there by god or nature or a people now extinct, Sawyer was impatient and hungry and hard and he wrapped his legs around Jack’s waist and his arms around his neck and sought out Jack’s mouth, kissing him thoroughly but briefly, just long enough to get the taste of him. And then he was pulling away, shoving at Jack’s hands when they tried to restrain him, then he turned, braced his hands against the coarse, wet surface of the rock and bent at the waist, waiting.

Oh, God, he heard, just barely, a rough whisper of need and Sawyer closed his eyes, knowing Jack was staring, feeling Jack’s eyes as they slid along the length of his back, a caress in and of itself, knowing that Jack found him beautiful, he’d said it so often that Sawyer had finally started to believe him, and after far too long Jack finally moved, hips tight against Sawyer’s ass as he ran his hands up Sawyer’s back to grasp him firmly by the shoulders.

Sawyer’s blood was already surging, a roar in his ears that echoed that of the surf and he pushed back against Jack impatiently, needing it and wanting it now, and he planted his feet more widely and again shoved back against Jack, catching just a hint of a gasp and a curse before one hand left his shoulder and moved lower, working him, fingers sliding inside him and making it hard to breathe.

Now, he growled, shoving back against those fingers and groaning at the sharp spark of pleasure that lit up his entire body. Good, God yes, but not nearly good enough, he wanted Jack, fucking him hard and fast and now, no need for the careful preparation Jack always insisted upon, he was still slick and ready from their interlude earlier in the day, despite having bathed since then.

Now, he ordered again, and he thought he heard Jack laugh, low and rough, then both Jack’s hands were tight against Sawyer’s hips and he lunged forward, wasting no more time, and Sawyer’s head dropped and his eyes closed and he felt his fingernails tear as he gripped tightly at the rock.

Jesus, he muttered, and then cursed when Jack paused as he always did, in part enjoying the sensation and in part making sure Sawyer was all right, and Sawyer gritted his teeth with impatience and then clamped down hard with everything he had, snorting in amusement and triumph at the strangled noise of pleasure and protest this brought from Jack.

Stop that, Jack hissed, digging his fingers painfully into the skin of Sawyer’s hips and Sawyer hid a grin, a grin which faded quickly when Jack started moving in earnest, long and slow, teasing, not nearly hard enough or fast enough for Sawyer, the slow slide serving only to frustrate him and he knew Jack was doing it deliberately, he liked it when he had the chance to take it slow because most of their encounters were hurried and frantic since Jack was usually needed elsewhere.

Today was different though, Sawyer thought, jaw clenching in frustration as Jack continued to take his time, each thrust slow and deliberate and calculated, he knew Sawyer’s body well by now, knew what pleased him and what made him crazy with need and what made him moan and beg and snarl and howl.

But today was different, Sawyer thought again, things had been quiet, rarely had they been able to be together twice in one day. And Sawyer knew Jack’s body just as well as Jack knew his.

They could take it slow later, Sawyer thought, irritated, and again he clamped down hard around Jack and Jack growled in protest and bucked up against him in spite of himself and then Sawyer was setting the pace, thrusting back, riding Jack hard and fast and fuck, Sawyer thought, better, much better, his breath coming faster with each stroke and finally Jack surrendered with a loud groan, hands hard and bruising as he stopped Sawyer, held him in place with the firm grip of his hands on Sawyer’s hips and then he was moving, just right, rough and quick and sliding firmly against that spot inside him that made Sawyer’s breath catch and his eyes close and his knees weaken.

Christ, Sawyer, God, he heard Jack groan and suddenly Sawyer imagined what they must look like, the tableau they were presenting, with the sun sinking slowly and casting a golden light on the water and on the two of them, Sawyer bent at the waist, back bowing and then arching and hair falling into his face as he braced himself against the rock to meet Jack’s thrusts, and Jack’s head, he knew, flung back and his eyes closed as his hips pumped furiously just below the waterline, the sea and sky and stone as backdrop to an image erotic and timeless as the stones themselves and then Sawyer, overwhelmed and aching and hard was reaching to touch himself but Jack shoved his hand away, bent over his back, bit down hard just below Sawyer’s shoulder as his thrusts became shorter but sharper and then his hand was on Sawyer, stroking him in time to the movement his hips.

Fuck, yes, Sawyer muttered through clenched teeth. Jesus, Jack, hard, God.

Come, Jack ordered, voice completely different now, raw and animalistic as his body raged against and inside Sawyer’s. Want to feel it, when you come, tight and hot around me, now . . .

And then it was if it every last bit of air had been taken from him and Sawyer reared back, one arm flinging back to clutch at Jack’s neck.

God, Sawyer, yes, just like that, Jack hissed against his ear, raking against sensitive skin with teeth and tongue and Sawyer’s entire body tightened, taut and tense and then he felt as if the whole of him shattered under Jack’s touch and under Jack’s words, sharp and bright shards of himself scattered and lost beneath the water as he came, a blinding white flash of light behind his eyes and down his spine and then he was falling, breathing hard and weak but bracing himself again against the damp grit of the rock and he heard Jack groan, heard Jack curse, heard Jack tell him once again in that reverential tone that Sawyer was so fucking beautiful and then Jack’s hips jerked roughly and he came hard, spilling hotly inside Sawyer and then collapsing atop him, struggling to breathe, and after a long moment finally he withdrew, turned Sawyer and dragged him into his arms and kissed him, a hard, closed-mouth kiss that said what they had yet to put into words and Sawyer was reminded to answer that call to prayer and he did so, silently and quickly but with more reverence than ever before, and then they both were sinking beneath the water, drowning, in each other.

***

Sawyer straightened, smiling sleepily, still lost in the memory and he sighed and started to get to his feet, to seek out Jack the way he usually did when caught up in such vivid sense memory, and then he remembered.

The caves, the night, the coming dawn, the sun rising on an island with one less person on it.

Same number of bodies, just one less person.

He doubled over suddenly, unable to breathe, choking, panicked and then he was on his feet and running, blinded and terrified.

Running, hard and fast

Running.

To no where and to no one.

Alone.

***

End