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Title: “Charmed”
Author: uberaeryn
Fandom: Lost
Pairing: Jack/Sawyer
No Spoilers
Rating: Adults Only, Language and Smut
Notes: PWP. Not one original idea in here. Written strictly for the pr0n.
Summary: Sawyer talks a lot and then there’s sex.
***
Jack waded slowly out of the water, shaking with the chill of it but warming
quickly in the heat of late afternoon and collapsed to the ground in front of a
tree, eyes closing. Sleep had been stalking him for days, threatening to sink
its black velvet claws into him, and finally he’d had a chance to get away, get
alone. Doze for a while, he hoped, or even better sleep all the way through to
morning, ready himself for the next round of inevitable emergencies.
“Hey, Doc.”
Jack jumped, startled, and then sighed heavily at the sound of Sawyer somewhere
behind him. He leaned back fully against the tree, bark scratching the bare skin
of his back, thumb and forefinger of his right hand digging into his eyes.
He’d just wanted a moment alone, time to catch his breath and cool off
underneath the fall of the water into one of the pools. He couldn’t remember the
last time he’d been alone, really alone, where it was quiet and cool and
nobody could find him, a time when nobody needed to find him. Even before
the crash it seemed he’d always either been at the hospital or on call, a
low-level adrenaline rush always surging through him as he waited for the next
patient to be brought in or for the pager to go off, the latest in a
never-ending series of cries for help.
He shook his head, disgusted with himself for indulging in self-pity and
continued rubbing at his eyes, trying to get rid of the weight of exhaustion
through sheer will. “Yeah,” he said finally, over his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
Sawyer snorted in amusement. “What’s wrong? I do believe that’s the
stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say, and you’ve said some pretty stupid
fuckin’ things. What’s wrong? Now, just where do you want me to start? Let’s
see, there’s the fact that there was a goddamned plane crash, we’re
stranded on Twilight Zone Island, and that–“
Jack sighed again in irritation, scowling. “No, no, I mean what’s wrong?
Somebody hurt?”
Sawyer frowned, puzzled. “Nope. Not yet, anyway, but I’m sure it’s just a matter
of time, that’s the way things seem to work around here” he said, stepping
across Jack’s outstretched legs. Jack prided himself in the fact that he was
able to avoid giving in to the urge to trip Sawyer and watched as he sat
cross-legged against a tree a few feet away, facing him.
“Yeah,” Jack muttered under his breath and struggled into his t-shirt, pulling
at it where it clung to wet skin. He met Sawyer’s eyes finally. “Did you need
something?” he asked pointedly.
“Another dumbass question,” Sawyer said, smirking, crossing his arms. “What I
need is a fuckin’ bed and air conditionin’ and ESPN and a bottle of Jack Daniels
and a rare steak right off the grill and someone with a mouth that won’t quit
ready to get down on their knees and get me off, that’d do for starters. Think
you can help me with any of that?” He smiled slyly as he waited for Jack’s
reaction and then deliberately he let his gaze travel slowly down the length of
Jack’s body before moving up again to meet Jack’s eyes, his eyebrows raised in
question, his expression suggestive and mocking, eyes gleaming.
Jack rolled his own eyes, fidgeting uncomfortably, and then dropped his head and
dug the fingers of both hands into the tight muscles of his neck. “Sawyer,” he
said in exasperation. “Were you looking for me for a reason? Or are you here
just to annoy me to death?”
“Wasn’t lookin’ for you, period, but the death idea’s kinda interestin’; how
would I go about that, exactly?” Sawyer cocked his head and watched Jack
closely, still smiling slightly.
“Just keep doing what you do best, Sawyer,” Jack said tiredly, closing his eyes
and burying his face in his hands.
“Be my charmin’ self? ‘Cause I’m good at that, you know, turnin’ on the charm.
Works every time – gets me drinks, gets me laid . . .”
“Charming, yeah, whatever, if that’s what you want to call it,” Jack mumbled,
rubbing at his face. “I’d call it being a complete and total asshole-“
“Same thing,” Sawyer said, and Jack gritted his teeth at the smirk in Sawyer’s
voice. “You’re awfully bitchy this evenin’, Doc, what’s your problem? Did I
interrupt your personal jerkin’ off time or somethin’?”
Again Jack sighed, giving up, knowing all too well by now that getting into a
verbal sparring match with Sawyer inevitably ended with either Jack’s defeat or
the two of them coming much too close to beating the shit out of each other than
was reasonable, and he simply didn’t have the energy for it now. “Jesus,
Sawyer,” he muttered in disgust, sighing once more when Sawyer simply grinned
back at him.
Sawyer had been on this tangent for the last several days, full of leering
innuendo and sometimes, it seemed, right out come-ons and Jack was tiring of it
quickly, although the reason he was becoming tired of it was something he tried
to avoid thinking about altogether. He slumped against the tree and glared at
Sawyer, who gave him a look of pure innocence in return, a look he knew
infuriated Jack to no end.
“There’s no problem, no . . . jerking off, I’m just a little tired, all
right?” Jack said wearily.
“Right, right,” Sawyer said, nodding and rubbing his thumb against his lower lip
in contemplation. “I know a little somethin’ that might help with that, it’s
called ‘sleep,’ don’t know if you’ve heard of that or not, it’s somethin’ that
the rest of us mere mortals try to do on a regular basis. Does wonders for your
disposition.” Again Sawyer grinned. “Even better when you combine it with
jerkin’ off.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Jack muttered, shaking his head and running his hands
over his hair. “I know I’ve said this before, but you are such an asshole.”
“Or charmin’. Same thing.”
More of that infuriating grin and Jack had had enough. He grabbed his pack.
“Yeah, well,” he said, moving to pull himself to his feet. “I’ll leave you to
charm yourself all you want.” He stood and hauled his pack over his shoulder
started to walk slowly in the direction of the caves.
“Now, wait just a second, Doc,” Sawyer said, his tone suddenly serious. “Maybe I
did come lookin’ for you for a reason.”
Jack stopped in his tracks but refused to look back, full of suspicion. “What,
Sawyer?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Need a little help with somethin’,” Sawyer said soberly.
Jack cast his eyes toward heaven, counted to a thousand quickly, analyzed
Sawyer’s tone carefully and then turned around. “What?’ he asked again.
Sawyer stared up at him, eyes dark and serious.
“What?” Sawyer repeated. “This.” And then he moved so fast that he actually
blurred, it seemed to Jack later, and Jack found himself flat on his back, the
wind knocked out of him and Sawyer’s hand pressing his own to Sawyer’s crotch.
“Gotta cure for that, Doc?” Sawyer whispered, thrusting against Jack’s hand, his
face a breath away from Jack’s and then there was that grin again. “Tried
everything I can think of, maybe you should take a look at it or somethin’ . .
.”
Jack stared into Sawyer’s darkened eyes, trying to get his breath back and
feeling the erratic movement of Sawyer’s hard cock through his jeans as he moved
against Jack’s hand and suddenly he was raging, body on fire as he bucked up
forcefully, knocking Sawyer loose and then rolling, pinning him to his back and
forcing himself between Sawyer’s thighs, propping himself up on hands planted on
either side of Sawyer’s shoulders, grinding against him slowly but roughly, a
hard, languorous roll of the hips that had both of them gasping with pleasure.
“Fuck,” Sawyer grunted in surprise and arousal, and then his hips were
rising to meet Jack’s, legs tightening around Jack’s waist and mouth seeking
Jack’s. Their lips met and Jack wasted no time, tongue delving inside and
sliding wetly against Sawyer’s as his hips began to move more quickly, blood
surging at the taste and the feel and smell of Sawyer, at the muted groans of
desire that vibrated against Jack’s mouth and down his spine, the heat centering
itself hard and low in his belly and Jack thought vaguely through a dizzying,
red haze that he’d never wanted anything more than he wanted this, never wanted
anything more than Sawyer wide open to him, taking him with his mouth and with
his body, and begging, whispering Jack’s name against the sensitive flesh of
Jack’s neck, and the movement of Jack’s hips quickened, causing Sawyer to curse
and tighten the hold his legs had on Jack’s waist.
“More, and harder, you son of a bitch, Jesus,” he whispered against
Jack’s mouth.
“Yeah,” Jack mumbled, lips and tongue sliding down the whisker-roughened length
of Sawyer’s neck. Sawyer moaned, head tilting back to allow Jack’s mouth easier
access. “More. Fuck, Sawyer . . .”
Then Jack was rearing back, fumbling with the buttons of his shorts and watching
through heavy-lidded eyes as Sawyer did the same with his jeans, staring back at
Jack with eyes black and lips parted slightly as he breathed heavily and then he
sat up slightly, yanking Jack back down against him and then his hands were
around them both, warm and firm as flesh slid roughly against sensitive flesh,
an overload of sensation for them both.
“God,” Jack muttered through clenched teeth, pausing to revel in the
sensation of Sawyer’s touch, mind and body reeling.
“Just fuckin’ move, Doc, God, now . . .” Sawyer hissed, tongue
sliding against Jack’s neck and then Jack was lost, moving frantically in a
mindless, throbbing rhythm of need, thrusting into the tightening grasp of
Sawyer’s hands and against the heat and hardness of his cock, faintly aware of
Sawyer’s unending string of curses and endearments and orders and then Sawyer
came, bucking up hard against Jack and groaning loudly, muttering Jack’s name as
his body spasmed and then his hands, wet and hot and slick, were stroking Jack
expertly and Jack’s breath was gone and his body melted and he fell over the
edge, biting viciously at Sawyer’s shoulder as he came hard, Sawyer drawing it
out of him, demanding it, with his words and his touch and then all was black,
just the pulsing of blood and breath and curses and tangled words in Jack’s ear.
And then, a blessed nothingness.
***
Jack sat up suddenly and looked around warily. Night had fallen, and the jungle
symphony that arose when the sun went down was almost deafening around them. He
looked at Sawyer, stretched out along the ground and hands behind his head.
Sawyer grinned back.
“Feelin’ better?”
Jack groaned and fell back to the ground and closed his eyes. “How long was I
out?” he muttered.
“Long time. Two or three hours, at least,” Sawyer said.
“Fuck,” Jack mumbled, burying his face against the skin of Sawyer’s
shoulder.
“Yep, sure was. Like it better if you were in me, though, really fuckin’
me, nice and hard,” Sawyer said, leer evident in his voice and Jack shivered at
both Sawyer’s words and how his hands were now moving along Jack’s body. “Now,
c’mon, Doc. Three hours of sleep ain’t nearly long enough. Once more oughta do
it, I’d think, get you through the night.”
Jack raised his head slightly and stared at him for a long time. “Asshole,” he
whispered without rancor, smiling slightly as he slid his knuckles across
Sawyer’s mouth.
Sawyer’s tongue darted out to glide against his hand and Jack sighed.
“Asshole. Or charmin’. Same thing,” Sawyer said, grinning again, rolling atop
Jack and moving against him with mouth and hands and body slowly, in much less
of hurry this time.
“Yeah,” Jack moaned in agreement and defeat, hands sliding into Sawyer’s hair
and eyes closing at the rush of sensation. “Same thing.”
***
The End
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