Title:  “All That You Can’t Leave Behind”
Author:  uberaeryn
Fandom:  ‘Lost’
Pairing:  Jack/Sawyer
Warnings:  Full of Spoilers
Rating:  Adults Only
 

It was late, too late to still be awake, but Sawyer’s mind was occupied with where he was going and what he was leaving behind, and with all that had happened that day. He’d been unprepared for the announcement that they had to leave immediately, not particularly surprised when he’d been blamed for poisoning Michael, and he felt, much to his frustration, regret at having dragged Kate into the entire mess. He knew he would have done the same or something similar had he been in her place, but the words that formed apologies had deserted his vocabulary long ago, so he’d leave with her hating him.

He’d always left women hating him, it wasn’t anything new. But the fact that Kate did hurt more than he’d thought that it would.

And he waited. He hoped and he waited and he ached for one last warm touch in the night.

Sleep was elusive, a specter he was unable to catch, and so he lay far down the beach away from the others, staring up at the stars and thinking too much and second guessing himself, telling himself one moment to give up his damned spot to Kate since she had just as much to lose as he did, and then hardening his heart and telling himself he was going, come hell or high water, no matter the risk.

No matter what he was leaving behind. Or who.

And still he waited, body aching, as he pondered the coming journey out into the ocean.

Death here or death out in the open sea, dead was dead, he figured.

But he wondered, briefly, as he stared up at the sky if he’d ever see the stars like this again, brilliant and silver and sharp-edged and close enough to touch.

And he wondered if he’d ever feel that same rough, warm touch again; the hands and mouth that made his body tremble and his blood soar.

Sawyer jumped, startled, when suddenly a figure loomed over him, backlit by the fire several yards away, and then relaxed slightly at the familiar scent that washed over him and the feel of warm hands roaming under his shirt across his chest.

Finally, he was here. Sawyer groaned softly at the fact that simply smelling Jack could make him so fucking hard and in relief that Jack had finally come to him.

“I’m not stayin’,” Sawyer whispered, closing his eyes against the pounding of his heart as Jack slowly unbuttoned his shirt and Jack’s hands trailed across his chest and belly.

“I know. I’m not asking you to,” Jack murmured, leaning across Sawyer and planting his mouth against the pulse point in his neck, licking at it lightly. And he never had, Sawyer thought, not once since he’d made the deal with Michael for his spot on the raft. Jack had never asked him to stay.

“Why haven’t you?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he bit at his lip to keep more words from falling forth, words he might regret.

“Would you? If I asked?” Jack whispered, tongue sliding up to lick wetly at Sawyer’s ear.

“No,” Sawyer said, resolved and determined, even as his eyes closed and his body melted at the touch of Jack’s mouth on his skin.

“Then I won’t ask,” Jack whispered, seeking Sawyer’s mouth, and Sawyer responded voraciously, pulling Jack tight atop him and sliding his tongue into Jack’s mouth, frightened and confused and full of desire and the actions of his mouth reflected that as he bit and nipped and teeth clashed against teeth and Jack made that hoarse moan of need that always made Sawyer’s cock harden even further. The sounds Jack made and the words that he uttered when they touched always surprised him, jolted him, sometimes made him come much sooner than he would have liked.

The thought that Jack, the do-gooder, hero, leader, actually needed Sawyer was sometimes more than Sawyer could take and he’d known after their first few encounters that this wasn’t just a fuck for Jack. There was something about Sawyer that Jack needed, and he wondered if that wasn’t part of the reason he was running. He’d seen that look before, on women and on men, and when it rose burning in their eyes he’d run like hell. It was a look that meant they saw him as something he wasn’t, something worthy of their time and capable of redemption. The look in Jack’s eyes was different, though, stronger and demanding and full of certainty, and the first time Sawyer had seen it he had run, scared shitless, and secured his place on the raft immediately, unwilling to admit to himself that this time the need was mutual and strong and overwhelming.

He’d always run. And tomorrow he’d run again and probably to his death.

Sawyer tore his mouth away, shuddering as Jack began making wet, lazy trails down his chest, teeth tugging lightly at his nipples before moving lower on his belly, causing sparks to fire deep and down low in Sawyer’s body.

“Why in the hell are you here? What is this?” Sawyer asked, hands sliding around Jack’s neck as Jack’s mouth moved lower, slowly, too slowly.

Jack paused and looked up at him, his eyes seemingly empty and black because of the angle of the caress of the fire from behind him. But Sawyer knew they weren’t empty, he’d seen the way Jack was open and vulnerable when they were like this and he thought it was just as well that he couldn’t see them now. He might change his mind if he did, not that he allowed himself to think too long on that fact or ever admit it to anyone, especially Jack.

“This is goodbye,” Jack whispered, and it seemed as though everything Sawyer had been thinking sank low and settled heavily in his belly.

“Then fuckin’ make me feel it, Doc,” he growled, suddenly angry, fingernails digging into Jack’s flesh. “Need you in me, hard, you make sure I remember, got it?”

Jack made a muffled sound against Sawyer’s skin and then suddenly they were tearing at one another’s clothes, Jack’s teeth and hands rough against Sawyer’s body, biting, bruising, and Sawyer gasped as his head fell back and he lifted his hips as slick fingers entered him, swirling and stretching.

“Jesus,” Sawyer muttered, moving against Jack’s finger’s as much as he could, breath coming in fast, short pants. “More, Jack, you, I want you, you goddamned son of a bitch . . .”

“Fuck, so good, God . . .” Jack whispered, and hiked Sawyer’s legs up high and entered him roughly, and Sawyer hissed at the painful burn but dug his nails into Jack’s shoulders when he paused.

“Christ, Sawyer,” Jack groaned, panting and resting his head on Sawyer’s shoulder. Sawyer clenched down hard around him and Jack moaned, body shaking.

“Don’t stop, fuck me, fuck me hard,” Sawyer whispered, voice tight with longing, and Jack planted his hands on either side of Sawyer’s chest and started moving, pounding into Sawyer hard and Sawyer groaned at the now familiar combination of pain and pleasure that quickly became all pleasure and very little pain.

And this was what he was leaving behind, he thought faintly.

“Damn you, Jack,” he snarled, fingers gripping the flesh of Jack’s shoulders, bruising, marking.

“Goddammit, Sawyer,” Jack groaned, leaning down to suck hard on the skin of Sawyer’s neck. “So good, Christ, you feel so fucking good . . .”

“Remember,” Sawyer whispered, body arching, quickly caught up in a rising tide of desire, wave upon wave of need slamming over him at the feel of Jack’s cock ramming into him.

“Always,” Jack answered, voice breaking just a bit before he suddenly withdrew, causing Sawyer to gasp in disappointment, clutching at Jack’s shoulders. “Remember,” Jack whispered as he moved lower, tongue sliding along the length of Sawyer’s cock. Sawyer shuddered, thrusting up against Jack’s mouth and Jack licked teasingly at the head of Sawyer’s cock before taking him in his mouth, sucking hard.

“God, Jack,” Sawyer whispered, writhing in the sand and fucking Jack’s mouth.

“Remember,” Jack whispered again against the wet, sensitive flesh of Sawyer’s cock.

“Yes,” Sawyer hissed, eyes closed and fingers tight against the back of Jack’s skull.

“And this,” Jack murmured, running his tongue along the sensitive crease on the inside of Sawyer’s leg where thigh met hip before biting down and sucking hard.

“Fuck!” Sawyer moaned, flesh ablaze, jolted at the sensation as Jack moved and now sucked lightly at his balls.

“Remember?” Jack whispered, again licking his way along the underside of Sawyer’s cock, causing Sawyer to shudder and groan and grit his teeth in frustration.

“God, yes,” Sawyer muttered before tugging Jack up the length of his body and bringing Jack’s mouth to his. “And this,” he whispered before taking Jack’s mouth again, his own mouth hot and hard and demanding, tongue plundering and muffling Jack’s groans as Sawyer tilted his head, one hand on the back of Jack’s neck and the other going to Jack’s ass, kneading roughly and pulling him up tight between Sawyer’s thighs so that the hot flesh of their cocks brushed against one another.

“Christ,” Jack hissed against Sawyer’s lips, thrusting up against him.

“Jack, please, for fuck’s sake,” Sawyer bit out through clenched teeth and then Jack was inside him again, making those noises and whispering those words and now Sawyer wished that he could see Jack’s eyes and be reassured that what he had seen there before had been real, that Jack felt Sawyer was worth saving and was worth redeeming and then all thought was abandoned as Jack fucked him as hard as he could, the whispered word ‘remember’ echoing over and over on the damp night air.

***

“Doc?” Sawyer said, watching through half-closed eyes as Jack dressed, asking without words for Jack to stay.

“I can’t, Sawyer,” Jack said, voice hitching slightly with emotion as he stood with his back to him. “I can’t. It’s just too . . . I can’t.” He started in the direction of the caves, head down.

“Jack,” Sawyer said, heaviness blanketing him like a shroud.

Jack paused, still not looking back. “I’ll remember,” he whispered and started walking again, and Sawyer watched him until he disappeared into the jungle and stared after him for a long while afterward, half hoping he’d return and then dreading what might happen if he did.

***

The next morning Sawyer gritted his teeth and did his best to spit it out. “Listen . . . Kate, about yesterday . . .”

She looked up at him and smiled slightly. “Don’t worry about it, Sawyer. You were cornered and you fought.” She sighed and looked down at the ground. “I get that.” She looked up at him again. “I just want you to know it wasn’t about you, okay? It . . . there was a lot going on, but it wasn’t about you, about framing you, whether you want to believe that or not.”

He stared at her for a moment, something in her eyes telling him she spoke the truth, and impulsively he leaned in and kissed her very briefly before pulling away.

Again she smiled and shoved him away gently. “Get out of here. You’ve got a long trip to make.”

Sawyer sighed and scrubbed at his eyes. “Guess I do, at that.”

***

Jack avoided him that morning, avoided his eyes and avoided his presence and instead focused on helping getting the raft ready for the long journey, and then, finally it was time to go.

Sawyer watched as Jack put his back into it, watched as he shoved with all his might to help get the raft past the crash of the surf and into calmer water, and when the sea was chest deep Jack turned and trudged back to the beach, ignoring the chorus of goodbyes and good lucks rising around him from the others and instead grabbing his pack and striding off into the jungle.

While trying to adjust to the dip and sway of the raft on the water, Sawyer watched. Sawyer waited.

But Jack never looked back.

Sawyer reached up to touch the mark on his neck, one that matched the mark on Jack’s, and he thought of the marks on his body that mirrored the marks on Jack's own.

Jack may never look back. But he would remember, Sawyer thought. He'd promised, and one thing Sawyer had learned was that Jack was a man of his word.

He’d always remember.

***

End