Title:  “Last Cigarette”
Author:  uberaeryn
Fandom:  Lost
Pairing:  Jack/Sawyer
Warnings:  Spoiler Free.  Silliness and smut for smut’s sake.
Rating:  Adults only. Language, sexual situations.
Notes: Inspired by a picture I saw somewhere of Matthew Fox lighting up. Title stolen from a Dramarama song.

Twenty

“Here.”

Sawyer looked down to see an unopened pack of Marlboro Reds in his lap and before he could even think he’d thrown his book aside and was ripping at the cellophane and fumbling for matches at the same time, practically drooling.

“You’re welcome,” Jack said, sighing and rolling his eyes and tossing a silver-plated Zippo at Sawyer’s head. Sawyer snatched it out of the air and lit up, inhaled deeply and fell back on to the sand, actually writhing in nicotine ecstasy, looking for all the world like he was about to come in his pants, and Jack watched, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, and Sawyer squinted up at him through the smoke.

“Thanks, Doc,” he said finally, smirking. “Where in the hell did you get these?”

“They’re mine,” Jack said, plopping down in the sand beside him with a heavy sigh.

“For some reason that doesn’t surprise me,” Sawyer mumbled around his cigarette. “Got any more?”

“No, last pack,” Jack said, and eyed the cigarettes warily when Sawyer offered him one, before shaking his head in refusal.

“Goin’ cold turkey? More for me, then,” Sawyer said happily, shoving the pack into his shirt pocket and then snorting as Jack groaned in frustration and gave in to temptation and grabbed at the pack and the lighter and lit up. “You’ve had ‘em all along, haven’t you?”

“Half a carton,” Jack said, hanging his head.

Sawyer glared. “I knew it!” he yelled, pointing at Jack accusingly. “I could smell it on you, you son of a bitch!”

Jack grinned suddenly, running a thumb along his lower lip. “You’ve been smelling me, Sawyer?”

Sawyer faltered for the briefest of seconds. “Well, couldn’t hardly help it, you stink like a fuckin’ dead horse!” he yelled, outraged and scowling. “A dead fuckin’ horse that’s been hoardin’ HALF A CARTON OF GODDAMNED MARLBORO REDS!”

“I do NOT STINK!” Jack shouted, glaring. Then he frowned in uncertainty and bent his head down and sniffed at himself. “Do I?”

“Yeah, you do, to high heaven. Higher, even,” Sawyer said, grinning again, and then he stared at the cigarettes. “You bastard. Guess I ain’t been the only holdin’ out. Couldn’t you have shown some mercy earlier?”

Jack looked at Sawyer like he was the stupidest person on the face of the earth and Sawyer snorted. “No, don’t suppose you would’ve,” he said. “So why now?”

“Because we’re all going to die and I figured what the hell,” Jack muttered, staring out at the surf, and Sawyer’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Optimistic, ain’t we ?”

“Not right now, no,” Jack grumbled, inhaling deeply.

“Quittin’ can do that to you,” Sawyer murmured, closing his eyes at the nicotine rush. “Turn you into a total asshole, not that you weren’t one already,” he said, grunting in pain and amusement at the hard punch on the shoulder that remark earned him.

“You see my point,” he said, rubbing at his shoulder. “Anyway, makes life not worth livin’, losin’ somethin’ as simple as this,” he said, opening his eyes and staring at his cigarette.

“You have to share,” Jack ordered, glowering. “Eighteen left, two a day, one for me, one for you.”

“And you trust me to keep that little bargain?”

“No, I don’t,” Jack said, sighing. “But I don’t trust myself with them, either.”

“Quittin’ can do that to you,” Sawyer said again. “Makes your friends enemies and your enemies your friends.”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. I hate everybody when I’m trying to quit, especially the people I hate already,” Jack said, looking at Sawyer pointedly. “Just hang on to them, all right? One a day, Sawyer, one.”

“Whatever you say, Doc,” Sawyer said, grinning as Jack sucked down what was left of his cigarette until there was nothing left but filter and buried it in the sand. “Hang on a sec,” he said as Jack started to get up, and Jack looked at him and waited, and then Sawyer sat up quickly and punched Jack hard on the shoulder.

“OW! Asshole,” Jack muttered, rolling his eyes and leaping to his feet. “You’re welcome, Sawyer,” he said, and he kicked hard at Sawyer’s thigh before leaping out of his reach. “One a day,” he called over his shoulder as he stomped off in the direction of the caves. “One.”

“Yeah, right,” Sawyer said, laughing to himself.

***

Eighteen

“Gimme,” Jack said, falling down into the sand flat on his back, throwing one forearm over his eyes and holding out his hand.

“And a good evenin’ to you, too, Doc,” Sawyer said. “Since you ask, I’ve been doin’ real well, had a wonderful day.”

“GIMME,” Jack said again, louder, hand still out, and Sawyer sighed and slapped the pack and the lighter into his hands. Jack sat up and lit up, inhaling deeply and relaxing instantly. “God, I’ve been waiting for that all day,” he sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing one hand along his jaw.

“I’ll just bet you have. You ever been in jail, Doc?”

“What?” Jack stared at him, puzzled.

“Way you’re holdin’ it,” Sawyer said, nodding at Jack’s hand and the way he held the cigarette cupped in his palm, hidden.

“Oh. Learned that in high school,” Jack said. “Picked it up again when I started practicing. Doesn’t do much for your credibility when a patient you’ve just ordered to stop smoking sees you smoking.”

“Hypocritical Oath?” Sawyer smirked.

Jack rolled his eyes. “You know, I have never heard that one before,” he muttered.

“I am an original, ain’t I, one of a kind,” Sawyer said with a great deal of self-satisfaction.

“You’re an original, all right,” Jack said amiably, relaxing now at the rush of nicotine, turning to face the sea. “Like nobody I’ve ever met before and hope never to meet again.”

“That hurts, Doc, truly. I’m wounded. Thought our little smokin’ dates might’ve meant a little somethin’ to you, but you’re just usin’ me to get your fix,” Sawyer said, dabbing at his eyes melodramatically.

“Fuck off,” Jack said, snorting in amusement in spite of himself. “Speaking of, how many dates have we got left?”

Sawyer thumbed through the pack, counting. “Sixteen left. Eight dates, darlin’,” he said grinning and winking.

“Shit,” Jack hissed, falling onto his back again. “I fucking hate quitting. Why in the hell I started again is beyond me. Eight more, that’s it, are you sure?”

“I can fuckin’ count, Doc, even do division,” Sawyer muttered. “Eight more, then finito,” he said, and then sighed.

“God, this is gonna get bad,” Jack groaned, rubbing at his face.

“No kiddin’,” Sawyer mournfully, resting his chin in his hand and staring at the pack, fondling it lovingly.

***

Sixteen

“Gimme,” Jack muttered.

“Give you what, darlin’?” Sawyer asked, smiling sweetly.

Jack glowered. “Don’t fuck around, Sawyer, today has been the worst day of my life, and considering what’s been going on since we’ve ended up here, that’s saying something. Hand ‘em over.”

“Hand what over?” Sawyer said, looking practically angelic, which infuriated Jack even further.

Jack sighed and gritted his teeth. “Don’t make me do this, Sawyer.”

“Uh oh, sounds like a threat there, Doc. I don’t take kindly to threats . . . OW!” Sawyer howled when he suddenly found himself in a headlock and one arm bent at a very painful angle behind his back.

“Where are they?” Jack hissed in his ear, breath hot, and Sawyer fought back a shudder and then threw himself backward and they both landed in the sand with an ‘oomph!’ Sawyer squirmed and managed to free his arm but Jack held him fast about the waist, pinning both arms, and locked his legs around Sawyer’s.

“Dammit, Doc, get the fuck off me,” Sawyer said, panting and struggling.

“WHERE ARE THEY? HAND ‘EM OVER, SAWYER, OR I’LL SWEAR TO GOD I’LL KILL YOU!” Jack bellowed.

“Jesus Christ, you tryin’ to make me deaf? Get off already!” Sawyer muttered and then flung his head back, making sharp contact with Jack’s chin.

“Ow! Motherfucker, I bith my thongue!” Jack muttered, kicking Sawyer away from him and spitting blood into the sand.

“For fuck’s sake, Doc,” Sawyer said, flinging his hair out of his eyes. “If that’s the way you treat all your dates it’s no wonder you never fuckin’ get laid.”

“HAND ‘EM OVER, YOU DAMN TEASE!” Jack screamed, seeing nothing but red.

“You know, Doc, I don’t believe that’s it’s possible for you to get any louder. Or to attract any more attention,” Sawyer said, nodding at a small group of people several feet away who were watching with intense interest.

“Oh, great,” Jack muttered, burying his face in his hands. “That’ll be all over the island in like, what, two minutes?”

“Faster’n that, Hurley’s over there,” Sawyer said, grinning and waving at Hurley cheerfully, who waved back and then hurried off in the direction of the caves.

Jack groaned. “Sawyer, please,” he said, holding out his hand and Sawyer sighed and pulled the pack and the lighter out of his pocket. Jack snatched them away and leapt to his feet and started to stalk off.

“Where in the hell are you goin’?” Sawyer yelled after him.

“Taking this little date elsewhere, you fucking tease,” Jack grumbled.

“Watch it, Doc,” Sawyer muttered but leapt to his feet and followed.

They leaned against a rock, hidden in the cool of the jungle, and agreed in silence that it was a two-cigarettes-each kind of day.

***

Nine

They met in the jungle again the next evening, and Jack sighed a long-suffering sigh as he fingered through the pack. “I knew it! That’s it, I’m taking them back, you’ve had three in one day?” he yelled.

“Yeah, countin’ this one,” Sawyer said, grinning and inhaling deeply.

Jack scowled and slid a cigarette out of the pack. “Lighter,” he demanded.

“What lighter?” Sawyer asked, his attempt to feign innocence ruined by the glint in his eye.

“Dammit, Sawyer, just give me the fucking lighter!” Jack shouted.

“Jesus, quittin’ turns you into a total bitch, don’t it?” Sawyer said, sniggering, and then was flat on his back as Jack attacked, pinning him down.

“For fuck’s sake, Doc, if I didn’t know better I’d think you were usin’ this as an excuse to get your hands all over me,” Sawyer whispered and Jack’s eyes narrowed.

“Or maybe you are using it as an excuse to DRIVE ME FUCKING CRAZY!” Jack bellowed.

“Maybe a little of both?” Sawyer suggested, grinning, and Jack lost it and attacked in a nicotine-deprived and Sawyer-induced rage, and they both cursed and fought as Jack patted Sawyer down, digging deep into his jeans pockets, his fingers brushing up against Sawyer’s cock in the process, and Sawyer ceased struggling for a moment and stared up at him and Jack stopped and stared back, eyes hard and dark, and then he thrust his fingers further and deeper into Sawyer’s pockets, deliberately fondling Sawyer this time and smirking when Sawyer’s eyes widened and he gasped slightly, and then suddenly Sawyer got a face full of dirt when Jack rolled him over and started searching his back pockets, finally emerging victorious with the lighter and flinging himself off of Sawyer and back on to the ground, lighting up gratefully.

“Now who’s the bitch?” Jack asked, looking at Sawyer with narrowed eyes through the swirling smoke, smiling slightly.

“Asshole,” Sawyer muttered, brushing the dirt off his face and clothes, glaring at his broken cigarette and then eyeing Jack’s shirt pocket where he’d stashed the pack.

“No way, bitch,” Jack said, grinning, raising up one bare foot defensively when Sawyer moved to grab the pack. “You’ve had more than your share, I’m keeping them now.”

“You watch who you’re callin’ a bitch, Doc, and give me a goddamned cigarette,” Sawyer growled.

“You have got to be kidding me!” Jack said. “You’ve had three! Three! And there is no way in hell you’re having another one! As a matter of fact, I’ll keep the rest for myself, I’m sick and tired of having to roll around in the dirt with you for a stupid fucking cigarette!”

Sawyer scoffed. “Hate to be the one to have to tell you this, bitch, but you like rollin’ around in the dirt with me,” he said, smirking. “Don’t you try and tell me you didn’t know I’d have a little fun at your expense, Doc. And it wasn’t me who was doin’ all the gropin’ just now, was it?”

“What groping?” Jack asked innocently. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He grinned again and winked. “And whether I like it or not doesn’t matter. We’re not going to do this anymore, so I guess we’ll never find out, will we?” he said, and hauled himself to his feet. “No more smoking dates, darlin’, consider yourself dumped,” he said and started making his way back to the caves.

Sawyer glared as he watched him go.

***

Eleven

Jack was startled awake by the feel of a hand clapping over his mouth and he struggled, grunting and throwing elbows at whoever had him pinned to the floor of the cave.

“What’s up, Doc?” came the whisper and Jack groaned and relaxed into Sawyer’s arms.

“For fuck’s sake, Sawyer, what in the hell are you doing?” Jack hissed when Sawyer finally took his hand away from Jack’s mouth.

“I’m lookin’ for that goddamned lighter,” Sawyer whispered, holding up two cigarettes in front of Jack’s face. Jack’s eyes widened and then he scowled.

“Very funny, asshole,” he muttered and then rolled over on to his back. “You were holding out on me?”

“Well, yeah, you dumbass. Very entertainin’, you and your nicotine fits, gave me somethin’ to look forward to, not to mention the way you seem to love to feel me up,” Sawyer whispered, grinning when Jack cursed and started struggling again. “Where’s that fuckin’ lighter?”

“Sawyer, there are fires all over the island and you came here, in the middle of the night, just for a damned lighter?”

“Yep,” Sawyer said, still grinning and then he slid astride Jack’s thighs and clamped down hard with his legs and then started running his hands up and down Jack’s body.

“Knock it off!” Jack hissed, jumping when Sawyer’s hand ghosted over his crotch.

“Nope,” Sawyer whispered, eyes glinting in the light of the fire outside. “Gonna feel you up until you hand it over. Fair’s fair.”

“You have got to be kidding me!” Jack spat, and then bit back a groan when Sawyer bent over him, shoving his face into Jack’s and pressing his hand more firmly to Jack’s crotch, stroking him. “Fuck,” Jack muttered. “Stop it!”

“Hand over that lighter, and those goddamned cigarettes, and maybe I’ll consider it,” Sawyer whispered, and then leaned in to suck hard on Jack’s neck.

“Jesus,” Jack whispered, struggling against both Sawyer and the rise in his blood. “Here, you fucking freak!” he hissed, dragging the cigarettes and the lighter out of his back pocket and shoving him in Sawyer’s face. “Now get the hell out of here!”

“Right,” Sawyer murmured, smirking. “See you tomorrow night, darlin’,” he whispered and kissed Jack hard before slipping out into the night, leaving Jack confused and tired and listening to the voice in his head whisper ‘wrong wrong wrong’ and he grinned like an idiot and scowled in turn.

***

Eleven

Jack didn’t even bother to ask the next night, he just snuck up behind Sawyer and attacked, and they cursed and struggled against each other, even snorting with laughter in between all the name calling when Jack finally came up the winner, holding up the battered pack of cigarettes and lighter up in triumph before settling next to Sawyer on the jungle floor, lighting up and handing the pack and lighter back to Sawyer.

“Damn, Sawyer, it’s like wrestling a crocodile with you,” Jack said, breathless and wincing at a bruise to his ribs.

“I let you win, you bastard, and no fair sneakin’ up on me like that. And what in the hell do you know about wrestlin’ crocodiles, city boy?” Sawyer sneered.

“‘Crocodile Hunter,’” Jack said, leaning back on his hands.

“Oh, yeah,” Sawyer said, nodding as he lit up. “That guy’s annoyin’ as fuck, but I love that show.”

And so the conversation continued, jumping from television to movies to music and books and back again, amiable and friendly for the most part, except for a lengthy and rather vehement disagreement over Lynyrd Skynyrd which almost led to more violence but was smoothed over when they found they agreed on the Allman Brothers, and they were finishing what they agreed to be the last two cigarettes of the evening when Sawyer stubbed his out and pounced, sending Jack sprawling on to his back.

“Fuck, Sawyer, no more, please, I’m tired,” Jack groaned.

“Shut up, Doc,” Sawyer whispered, pushing himself up between Jack’s thighs. Jack groaned again and tried half-heartedly to move away when Sawyer kissed him suddenly, mouth soft and beard rough, and before he had time to think he was kissing Sawyer back, hungry and hard, the voice in the back of his head that had been chanting ‘wrong wrong wrong’ fading into silence, and everything was taste, smoke and liquor that the bastard had hidden away somewhere, feel, hot and wet and rough, the smell of sweat and the ocean and something amber-tinted and musky, and Jack’s body trembled, the blood pounding through his veins.

“Jesus,” Sawyer whispered, pulling away and running his tongue down the length of Jack’s throat, and Jack shuddered, thrusting his hands into Sawyer’s hair and yanking his head up to kiss him again.

“More,” Jack murmured. “Nice mouth, Sawyer, kiss me more.”

“Fuck,” Sawyer whispered, now rubbing his cock against Jack’s and kissing him teasingly. “Next thing you know you’ll be tellin’ me how pretty I am.”

Jack pulled away and stared up at him. “Yeah,” he softly, brushing Sawyer’s hair out of his eyes. “You’re beautiful.”

Sawyer’s eyes hardened and he started humping against Jack harder, and Jack groaned, head swimming, and rolled away with a great deal of difficulty.

“Where in the hell are you goin’?” Sawyer growled, grabbing at him.

Jack stepped away and grabbed the cigarette pack and held it up. “One left, Sawyer,” he said. “Tomorrow night.”

Sawyer flung himself on to the ground in frustration, tugging at the crotch of his jeans. “Now who’s the fuckin’ tease?” he grumbled.

Jack grinned and leaned down and kissed him hard before stumbling away, dizzy and breathless.

“Tomorrow night, Doc, don’t you fuckin’ disappoint me.”

“I’ll be here,” Jack whispered and escaped before he changed his mind.

That night was a ten cigarette night, five each.

***

Last Cigarette

Sawyer stalked him like some sort of golden jungle cat the next day, not too close but never too far away, either, following him as he went from task to task, and occasionally they would lock eyes and Sawyer would grin and Jack would shiver, half hard all day in anticipation, and then finally the sun started to set and Sawyer disappeared, and Jack ducked into the cave and filled his pockets and then ran like hell.

Sawyer was waiting, holding up the last cigarette with one hand. “Last one, Doc,” he said, grinning. “Who gets it?”

Jack walked up to him and grabbed the cigarette and flicked it into the bushes. “Aw, hell, Doc . . .”

“Shut up, Sawyer.”

Sawyer smiled. “Make me,” he whispered and they stared at each other for a long while, the air sparking, and then they lunged at each other at the same time, mouths meeting in a brutal, hungry kiss, hands wandering and both breathing heavily. “Been waitin’, Doc,” Sawyer whispered, hand sliding inside Jack’s shorts to stroke him and Jack groaned, sucking hard at Sawyer’s neck. “Been waitin’ for fuckin’ ever . . .”

“Fuck,” Jack muttered, grabbing Sawyer’s ass and pulling him close, running his tongue up the length of Sawyer’s neck, and Sawyer tilted his head to the side and moaned gruffly as Jack sucked at his ear and thrust his tongue inside. “Jesus,” Jack grunted as Sawyer rubbed up against him. “God, I want to fuck you, be inside you, God, Sawyer, you’ve been driving me fucking crazy . . .”

Sawyer’s head snapped up and he stared at Jack with darkened eyes. “Then fuck me,” he whispered against Jack’s mouth. “Hard.”

Desire slammed through Jack, making him shudder, and through the red haze madness he tore at Sawyer’s clothes, attacking him with hands and mouth and words, and they fell to the ground, both naked finally and writhing against each other, sweaty and groaning and Jack licked and sucked his way down the length of Sawyer’s back.

“I ain’t ever rolled over for anyone before, Jack,” Sawyer whispered and Jack paused.

“I know,” he whispered against the sweat slick skin of Sawyer’s back. “Trust me?”

“Yeah,” Sawyer sighed and then gasped as Jack started rimming him wetly. “Fuck,” he muttered, head falling forward at the pleasure of it and then Jack started fucking him with his tongue and Sawyer’s head whipped back, hair flying and back arching. “Jesus!” he groaned. “God, Jack, that feels so fuckin’ good, Christ . . .”

Jack groaned against sensitive skin, plunging his tongue deeply inside Sawyer as he fumbled unseeing for something in the pocket of his shorts, and then he replaced his tongue with one long slick finger, finding the right spot without error and rubbing against it again and again as Sawyer shuddered hard, and rocked back against his hand, fucking himself on Jack’s finger. “Goddammit, Jack . . .” Sawyer bellowed. “C’mon, fuck me already . . .”

“Slow,” Jack whispered, closing his eyes and fighting back the need to let go and take him right there, his other hand going to his own cock and stroking slowly as he added a second finger, then a third. “All right?” he whispered.

“Yes! Now!” Sawyer demanded and Jack pulled away, sucking again at Sawyer’s back as he rolled on a condom, and then he began to enter Sawyer slowly, head spinning at the tight, hot feel of him.

“Hurt?” Jack whispered.

“Little bit, yeah,” Sawyer groaned.

“Want me to stop?”

“Fuck no!” Sawyer yelled, fingers clawing at the dirt and grass. “Harder!

A thrill skittered along Jack’s spine. “Thank God,” he muttered and let himself go, fingers digging into Sawyer’s hips, ramming into him hard and fast, careful to keep the angle right, and soon Sawyer was shoving back against him, moaning and cursing, sweat and hair flying.

“Jesus, Sawyer, God . . .”

“Touch me,” Sawyer ordered, his voice raw, and Jack reached around and began jerking him hard, and Sawyer howled, slamming back against Jack as he came, back bowing up and body shuddering, and Jack’s head flew back and his eyes closed and he cried out loudly as Sawyer tightened around him, sending him over the edge as well, reeling in heat and scent touch, and then he wrapped his arms around Sawyer’s waist and bit sharply at Sawyer’s shoulder as he came, marking him, and then the world faded to grey.

***

Jack withdrew slowly and fell to ground beside Sawyer, body singing with release, and he sighed heavily.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Sawyer panted, rolling on to his back. “Thought you said you’d never done that before, Doc.”

“I haven’t,” Jack murmured and Sawyer eyed him in disbelief.

“You sure as hell seemed to know what you were doin’,” Sawyer said, smirking.

“I haven’t done it before! But I am a fucking doctor, you know, I know how the body works, you dumbass!”

“Yeah, right,” Sawyer scoffed. “I’m not a fuckin’ queer, you know. Unlike some people I could mention, but I will refrain from doin’ so on account of how polite I am.”

“I’m not queer, either!” Jack yelled and then the absurdity of both statements in light of recent events seemed to hit them both at the same time and they were laughing helplessly.

“You think it might be the island?” Sawyer asked once they’d calmed down a bit, peering around them suspiciously.

“The island?”

“Makin’ us queer.”

Jack clapped a hand over his mouth and started giggling again, laughing so hard he was crying. “Yeah, Sawyer,” he gasped. “The island made us go all gay and I’m sure things will . . . you know, straighten up as soon we get out of here.” Again he started laughing, blinded by tears.

Sawyer glared, all fake wounded dignity. “Oh, that’s real funny, Doc. I cannot believe you’re fuckin’ laughin’ at me. You take my virginity, a precious gift,” which set Jack off all over again, he was almost hyperventilating by now, “and then you fuckin’ laugh at me GODDAMMITJACKSTOPIT!” he yelled, punching at Jack and laughing again himself now.

“Stop being such a drama queen,” Jack said, when he’d calmed down enough to speak.

“I AM NOT A FUCKIN’ QUEEN EITHER!” Sawyer bellowed, still laughing.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Jack sighed, still giggling and wiping at his eyes. “I don’t understand it any more than you do, Sawyer, it just is what it is, I guess.”

Sawyer fell back and flung one forearm over his eyes. “Whatever. Long as you keep doin’ . . . whatever that was you were doin’.”

Jack hid a smile. “Fine with me,” he said, sighing.

“And when are you gonna roll over for me?” Sawyer asked, leering, and Jack sighed again and fumbled for his shorts, grabbing something out of the pocket, and slapped a condom into Sawyer’s hand.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Jack said, eyes half closed.

“Really?” Sawyer said, staring at him in surprise.

“Well . . . give me a minute. Uh, fifteen, maybe. Half an hour?”

“Make it an hour and it’s a deal,” Sawyer said and Jack grinned. “Now run on over there in them bushes and find that fuckin’ cigarette, bitch,” Sawyer ordered.

Jack huffed. “Too tired. You go, you fucking . . . island queer.”

Snort. “Can’t fuckin’ walk, Doc.”

Jack frowned and rolled his head to stare at him. “Really? You all right?”

Sawyer sighed and grumbled. “I’m fine, just too fuckin’ lazy to get up.”

Jack fumbled again through the pocket of his shorts and handed Sawyer a brand new pack of cigarettes.

“You bastard,” Sawyer said mildly, ripping it open and lighting up before handing them back to Jack, who lit up as well. “What other secrets you got stashed away?” Sawyer asked, sleepy eyed now.

“I refuse to answer that for fear you’ll kick my ass. Or go find them and steal them,” Jack muttered

“I’ll do somethin’ to that ass, that’s for fuckin’ sure,” Sawyer murmured and Jack shivered and smiled slightly.

Jack held up the pack of cigarettes. “Eighteen left, Sawyer. Eighteen. Two a day, one for you, one for me.”

“What the fuck ever, Doc,” Sawyer whispered, half asleep, rolling on to his side away from Jack, and Jack watched him for a moment and almost reached out to touch him but something told him it was too soon, much too soon, so he kept his hands to himself and stared up at the night sky, slowly falling asleep, waking up not too much later with Sawyer glued to his side, his hands roaming all over him and he smiled and when things were finally said and done they had to start over the next night with sixteen cigarettes instead of eighteen, one for each of them, they agreed, each time.

***

End