Title:  “Crackin’ Coconuts”
Author:  uberaeryn
Fandom:  Lost
Pairing:  Jack/Sawyer
No Spoilers
Warnings:  Adults Only, Language and Sexual Situations and Coconuts
Rating:  PWP
A/N:  Inspired by an off-hand comment by vixerunt. I'm not so sure she'd want credit for this one or not.
 

Jack crept quietly up the length of one of lesser-used paths in the jungle, careful to stay low and keep his eyes on the underbrush. He knew generally when the attacks would happen, and where, but he always found himself unprepared for when they finally hit, and what had started out as a game had quickly turned into practically a blood sport and one at which he almost always lost.

Well, always lost, he thought, scowling. Not this afternoon, though, he vowed to himself with grim determination. This afternoon, victory would be his.

Then the sky fell in and he found himself crushed facedown into the ground, knocked breathless by the weight atop him.

“Afternoon, Doc. For the record, you still suck, and I don’t mean in that good kinda way. I’ve got, what, twelve in the win column? And you’re still carryin’ around the big ol’ goose egg - nothin’, zero, zilch, nada, I win, you lose, you suck, now take your clothes off. Now. Now now now now now!”

“Next time,” Jack wheezed into the dirt, irritated beyond all reason that he’d lost at this ridiculous game again.

“That’s what you said last time,” Sawyer said, smirk all over his voice and Jack glowered at the ground. “Naked, now.”

Jack groaned, still trying to get his breath back, and shoved Sawyer’s hands away as he tried to rip Jack’s t-shirt over his head even though he still had his pack over his shoulders. He shrugged it off and shoved it to the side and then rolled over on to his back and glared up at Sawyer who smirked back triumphantly and then moved suddenly, making quick work of straddling Jack’s hips and starting that slow, hard grind that he knew drove Jack crazy and then started again yanking at the hem of Jack’s t-shirt.

Jack immediately found it even harder to fight for air, and he struggled against his body and against Sawyer, grabbing his wrists and holding them tightly.

“Jesus, Sawyer, give me a second. I can’t even breathe,” he muttered.

“Been told I do that to people, take their breath away. Made you turn blue that one time, just part of my charm, I suppose,” Sawyer said, grinning and struggling to break free of Jack’s grip, his hips still moving.

“I did not turn blue!” Jack bellowed, breath returning fully in the face of outrage and Sawyer snorted in amusement.

“Indigo?” Sawyer suggested, suddenly all wide-eyed innocence.

“Sawyer . . .” Jack growled warningly. Blue, he thought, the very idea was . . . well, possible, but that was as much as he’d admit to himself, much less to Sawyer.

“Whatever, you’re a bright shade of red right now,” Sawyer said, smirking again and resuming his struggles against Jack’s grip on his wrists. “Who cares, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon, we ain’t got all day!”

Jack grinned suddenly and Sawyer stopped fighting and stared down at him in surprise. “What?” he asked, his voice a combination of suspicion and curiosity.

“We do have all day,” Jack said, smirking himself now. “I told everyone I’d be gone all afternoon.”

Sawyer’s eyes widened in surprise. “Sweet Jesus, you tellin’ me the good doctor is shirkin’ his duties and called in sick?” he said.

“Yeah,” Jack said, still smirking himself.

Sawyer grinned knowingly. “You’re the worst fuckin’ liar on the face of the earth. Just a quiet day today, right?”

“No,” Jack said belligerently, and then sighed in defeat when Sawyer looked at him in disbelief. “Yes,” he admitted grudgingly. “But still, all afternoon.”

“Whatever, you still have too many clothes on,” Sawyer muttered and thrust against Jack again, cock hard and movement harder and Jack closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the roughness of cock against cock through layers of clothing and then he rolled again, pinning Sawyer to the ground and seeking out his mouth, fluid, hot strokes of tongue against tongue and muffled growls of appreciation coming from Sawyer as he wrapped himself around Jack, bucking and humping and arching and demanding.

“Jesus, Sawyer, slow down . . .”

“No,” Sawyer muttered and finally won his battle to rid Jack of his shirt and then began a second battle with the zip of Jack’s shorts. Jack pulled back and quickly began stripping, watching through narrowed eyes as Sawyer did the same, and then both were nude and colliding again, skin sliding across sweat-slicked skin and Jack groaned when Sawyer grasped him, stroking him with a quick, tight slide.

“No, no, wait . . .” he moaned, reluctantly pulling Sawyer’s hand away.

“Wait for what?” Sawyer growled and bit sharply at Jack’s lower lip.

“I want to try something different,” Jack said, biting back and then propping himself up on his hands to grin down at Sawyer.

“Different? What different?” Sawyer asked, scowling and impatient now and wrapping his legs again around Jack’s waist and rubbing up against him and Jack groaned at the touch of Sawyer’s cock against his own.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

“That’s what I’ve been sayin’, you idiot,” Sawyer grumbled, trying again to capture Jack’s mouth and then sighing in frustration and impatience as Jack pulled away.

“Different,” Jack said, crawling away.

“Fine, different, whatever, but now,” Sawyer said, sitting up and kicking at Jack’s bare foot in irritation and watching him, puzzled, as he dug through the underbrush.

Jack scrabbled around on the ground until he found what he was looking for and then tossed it none too gently at Sawyer’s head. Sawyer snatched it out of the air and stared at it a moment, and then looked back at Jack.

“What in the hell is this?”

“It’s a coconut, you dumbass.”

Sawyer scowled. “I know it’s a goddamned coconut, you asshole. This is what you mean by ‘different’? We makin’ a pie or somethin’?” he asked.

Jack sighed and rolled his eyes. “No, it’s for –"

“Listen, I’m not a guy that usually has problems with kinks and you’re the doctor here but it seems to me that shovin’ this thing up your ass would hurt like hell,” Sawyer said, and then his eyes widened. “Unless you’re thinkin’ of shovin’ it up my ass, and I’d fuckin’ kill you before I let that happen, that’s for goddamned sure-"

“No, you moron, crack it open!” Jack said.

“With what, your head? And why?”

Jack sighed again. "To use it for –" he said and then his eyes widened as he remembered something. “No, wait, wait, wait . . .”

He found his pack and fumbled around and then tossed something else at Sawyer, who suddenly found himself holding a coconut in one hand and a tube of Preparation-H in the other.

He looked from one to the other for a long moment and then back at Jack.

“Okay, Doc, if you got a problem with this,” he said, holding up the tube of Preparation-H, “then I really don’t think shovin’ this up your ass is a good idea at all.” He threw the coconut at Jack who caught it easily with one hand and then fell back on to the ground and flung his forearm over his eyes.

“Lube, Sawyer,” he muttered as he thought that this entire idea had probably been one of the worst ones he’d had since they’d become stranded.

“Lube?” Sawyer asked, puzzled. “So you’re wantin’ me to grease up that coconut with Preparation-H so that I can shove it up your ass?”

“NOBODY’S SHOVING ANY COCONUTS UP ANYBODY’S ASS!” Jack bellowed, wondering if Sawyer was really that dense or was simply trying to piss Jack off, and he assumed it was probably the latter.

Jack pounced suddenly, knocking Sawyer to his back and shoved his face into Sawyer’s. “Let me spell this out for you. You’re going to grease me up so I can shove myself up your ass,” he said, grinning.

Sawyer’s looked at him in shock and then glared. “Now what in the hell made you decide you get to be on top? If anybody’s gonna be on top it’s me! And what the fuck is the coconut for?”

“FORGET THE FUCKING COCONUT!”

“Gladly,” Sawyer said, glowering. “But I’m on top.”

“No, I am,” Jack declared, fighting now to keep Sawyer pinned while he tried to wrest the Preparation-H out of Sawyer’s hands.

“And just how do you figure that?” Sawyer asked, scowling and hanging on to the tube with everything he had, and then they were rolling and wrestling and fighting for the Preparation-H, bickering the entire time.

“Because it was my idea,” Jack said.

“What in the hell difference does that make?” Sawyer asked. “I’d be a better top than you, betcha good money.”

“You would not! I’m a doctor!” Jack said and immediately felt as stupid as he sounded.

Sawyer snorted and then managed to hide the tube behind his back. “You’ve got a degree in ass-fucking, is that what you’re sayin’?”

“Just give it me,” Jack said, trying to ignore the fact that he was blushing furiously.

“No. I top first,” Sawyer said defiantly.

“I go first!”

“Why?”

“Because . . . because I’m bigger than you,” Jack said, and then wondered briefly if that made any sense at all.

Sawyer smirked. “Well, if by bigger you mean . . .” He trailed off and his eyes drifted down Jack’s body and Jack was enraged to find himself suddenly sucking in his stomach.

“That’s it! I’m on top, no more messing around, spread ‘em,” he shouted, pinning Sawyer down by his shoulders. “Give it to me!”

Sawyer glared. “You’d better make it worth it, Doc, or payback.” He pulled the tube from behind his back and held it up, eyebrows raised. “Why in hell are you carryin’ this around, anyway, in case of hemorrhoid emergencies? Besides, ain’t this stuff supposed to reduce swelling? That wouldn’t work at all, now would it?”

Jack rolled his eyes.

“For any kind of minor emergency, it’s an analgesic and . . . NEVER MIND!” he shouted and grabbed the tube and then captured Sawyer’s mouth with his own, biting and nipping and sucking and Sawyer responded in kind, and soon the fight was forgotten as again their bodies heated up, roughened hands roaming over backs and chests and skimming lightly across cocks and then Jack was licking his way down Sawyer’s chest and stomach and then took Sawyer in his mouth, working him teasingly with lips and tongue.

“Fuck, Jack,” Sawyer muttered, and Jack looked up to see Sawyer watching him through heavy-lidded eyes and he nipped at tender flesh lightly and Sawyer growled and his hips bucked helplessly, and then he gasped as a slick finger entered him, a slow, expert slide against just the right spot, and as Jack continued the slow strokes of his fingers he moved his other hand to Sawyer’s cock, stroking in counterpoint and watching in fascinated arousal as Sawyer writhed and cursed and arched up into his hand and back again against his fingers.

“Jesus,” Sawyer hissed and suddenly his hands were tight on either side of Jack’s face, pulling him upward. “Now,” he snarled, hiking his legs high against Jack’s shoulders.

“Thank God,” Jack muttered and moved slowly, carefully, body trembling at the feel of Sawyer tight and hot around him. “Okay?” he asked hoarsely.

“Just fuck me, Christ,” Sawyer ordered and Jack began thrusting and Sawyer groaned again.

“Touch yourself,” Jack ordered, voice low and Sawyer started stroking himself and Jack watched as he did so and then his rhythm increased along with his need. “God, Sawyer, good, Jesus . . .”

“Harder,” Sawyer groaned. “Fuck me harder.”

And at that all thought was lost and Jack was overwhelmed by an avalanche of intense sensation and everything faded except for Sawyer who was bright and vivid and hot and moving underneath him and then there was nothing but a red haze as the need for release slammed through him and then Sawyer came, growling Jack’s name as he did so and pushing Jack over the edge as well.

***

“Told you I should be on top,” Jack murmured, on the verge of sleep.

“Yeah, but you never did tell me what that fuckin’ coconut was for.”

***

Jack surfaced slowly from sleep, keeping his eyes closed, aware at first of only that deep, bone-melting satisfaction of a body well-worked and well-used and he inhaled deeply, smelling the tang of crushed grasses and sweat and sea and Sawyer.

And coconut.

He kept his eyes closed as he suddenly became away of how sticky he felt along his stomach, neck and arms, and as he shifted slightly he felt something rasp roughly against the skin of his chest and he froze.

“Hey, darlin’. Wakey wakey,” Sawyer whispered in his ear and then Jack heard him scuttle away as fast as he could and Jack knew, he just knew that whatever he was going to see when he opened his eyes was bound to piss him off.

And God, did it, he thought when he finally mustered up the courage to look.

The coconut had, indeed, finally been cracked in two.

And each half had been strategically placed on his chest to form a coconut bra.

He heaved a heavy, put-upon sigh and glared at Sawyer, who was now fully-clothed and well out Jack’s reach. Sawyer grinned.

“Finally figured out what that fuckin’ coconut was for. Suits you,” Sawyer said, snorting in amusement as his eyes trailed down the length of Jack’s body. “Matches your skirt. You look just like one of them little hula girls you stick on the dash of your car. Downright beautiful.”

Skirt, Jack thought wearily, and looked down to find that about half a dozen palm fronds had been strategically placed around his waist. It definitely looked like a skirt, he thought.

He’d survived a plane crash only to find himself on a haunted island and involved in one of the most fucked-up relationships he’d ever encountered and now he was lying in the middle of the jungle wearing a skirt and a coconut bra.

There was no possible way his life could get any weirder, he thought, and then he sighed. The way things had been going, next thing he knew he’d probably be seeing polar bears wearing grass skirts and coconut bras and serving him piña coladas before they ripped his throat out, he thought.

And he’d probably even have to tip.

He groaned and lay his head back down on the ground, trying to ignore Sawyer’s muffled laughter as he tried to come up with a plan for payback.

“What are you, twelve? You think this is funny?” Jack asked, lifting his head up and glowering.

“As hell,” Sawyer snorted, grinning broadly. “You’re just lucky I don’t have a camera, sweetheart.”

“I guess,” Jack said, sighing. “Sawyer, did I ever tell you I played football in college? Division I.” He paused meaningfully. “Quarterback.”

“Yeah? What’s that got to – oh, shit!” Sawyer hissed as realization set in and he started moving but he didn’t move quite fast enough, and one half of the coconut sailed through the air, perfect spiral, Jack thought, considering what he had to work with, and it hit Sawyer on the side of the head with a loud and satisfying CONK.

Jack grinned.

And then Sawyer hit the ground with a loud and satisfying THUD.

Jack’s grin widened.

And then Sawyer didn’t move.

Jack’s grin faded. “Quit fucking around, Sawyer. Get up. I know you’re faking, I didn’t throw it that hard. Sawyer, get up. Sawyer. Sawyer. Sawyer,” he grumbled, his satisfaction quickly turning to concern and then he was on his feet and moving, the other half of the coconut bra and the remnants of the skirt falling to the ground as he did so, and he hurried, naked, to Sawyer’s side and knelt on the ground beside him, putting on hand on his shoulder as he tried to roll him to his back.

“Sawyer? Sawyer! Saw – GAH!”

“Psyche!” Sawyer crowed in victory as Jack again found himself facedown on the ground, arms pinned behind his back, and Jack sighed.

“I knew that didn’t hurt you; your head is hard as rock,” Jack grumbled and then winced as Sawyer’s grip on him tightened.

“You kiddin’ me? That hurt like hell, so now it’s payback time,” Sawyer said, and Jack could feel and hear him fumbling with his jeans. Then he leaned forward and whispered in Jack’s ear. “On your knees, Chief. My turn to be on top.”

To his surprise Jack found his body responding and himself grinning, then he gasped as slick fingers started working him with as much expertise has he had worked Sawyer earlier, and he rose up on his knees, eyes closing as he rocked back against the glide of Sawyer’s fingers.

“Jesus,” he whispered and then Sawyer pulled away, fumbling with his clothes, and then he was back and sliding inside and Jack groaned as bright sparks of need shot up his spine to explode in front of his eyes.

“Hang on,” Sawyer moaned. “Gonna be a long ride. Fuck, you feel good.”

Jack smiled slightly and thought briefly that both top and bottom had their different advantages, and then soon he wasn’t thinking at all.

***

When Sawyer woke it was quickly getting dark and he found himself alone and he assumed Jack had gone to clean up and get something to eat, and he suddenly found himself hungry at the thought of it.

He dressed quickly, stepping into his jeans and pulling his shirt over his shoulders and buttoning it halfway, then he made his way carefully down the path until he caught the light of the fire just ahead.

He stepped out of the jungle to find Sayid, Kate and Michael seated around the fire, eating and chatting, and then they all stopped when they saw him and stared.

“What?” Sawyer asked, scowling. “Problem?”

Kate clapped a hand over her mouth as she looked at him with widened eyes.

“What?” Sawyer said again, looking down to make sure his jeans were zipped and when he looked up again all he could see of Michael was his ass, since he was now on all fours with his face buried in the sand, shoulders shaking.

“What?” he demanded and Sayid slowly got to his feet, his face expressionless, and he moved to stand in front of Sawyer with his arms crossed.

“Sawyer,” he said. “I must say, you are looking quite lovely this evening.”

Sawyer’s eyes widened and then he glared as he saw Kate fall of the log on which she’d been seated, laughing her ass off. He turned his glower on Sayid.

“Lovely?” he snarled and he noticed now there was a spark in Sayid’s eye although his face and his voice remained void of expression.

“Yes, very,” Sayid said. “The flowers, they suit you.” Sawyer watched, dumbfounded, as Sayid reached out and plucked a bright red hibiscus bloom from Sawyer’s hair.

And then another. And another. And then he heard a familiar muffled giggle and he looked up to see Jack standing on the other side of the fire, one hand over his mouth to hide his grin.

“You son of a bitch!” he snarled and leapt over the fire but Jack already had a huge head start and was halfway down the beach before Sawyer finally tackled him and they both fell into the surf, wrestling.

Kate wiped at her eyes and sighed, watching them. “Surely they don’t think they’ve managed to keep that a secret,” she said, grinning.

“I almost wish they would have,” Michael said, climbing to his feet. “Not that I have any problem with it, there a just some things I would rather not know. But that? Sawyer with the flowers in his hair? That was a good one.”

Sayid scowled. “At least you didn’t have the misfortune of thinking you were coming to Jack’s rescue in the jungle and stumbling upon an entirely different scenario than what you had pictured,” he said.

“What scenario?” Kate asked, leaning forward eagerly.

Michael stuck his fingers in his ears and started singing ‘Midnight Train to Georgia.’

Sayid sighed. “All I will say is this – Jack was blue.”

***

End