Title:  “Loss of Balance”
Author:  uberaeryn
Fandom:  Lost
Pairing:  Jack/Sawyer
Rating:  Adults Only, Language and Sexual Situations
Warnings:  Spoilers for S1, Tiny Bit of Spoiler Speculation for S2
Summary: Written as part of foxxcub's Lost Kinks Ficathon. Written for ficangel (and no, I wasn't intimidated by THAT at all, she's only one of the best 'Lost' writers around) who wanted

“Get up.”

Sawyer groaned in irritation and rolled over to scowl at Jack, who promptly tossed a fresh change of clothes with much more force than necessary at Sawyer’s head.

Sawyer sighed underneath the t-shirt now draped over his head like a veil, then ripped it away and his scowl deepened when he saw that Jack was smiling slightly.

“Get up,” Jack repeated.

“Can’t. I’m hurt, got shot by crazy ghost people and drifted in the damned ocean for three days. Need more time to recover.” He fell back and closed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair and then winced at the greasy feel of it.

“It’s been a month, Sawyer. You’re fine. Get up.”

“Fine? Some kinda doctor you are, I’m weak as a baby. I can’t even fuckin’ walk.”

“You didn’t seem to have any problem walking when you snuck down to your tent last night to get those copies of Hustler,” Jack said, raising his eyebrows as he looked at Sawyer accusingly.

Oops, Sawyer thought, sighing heavily. Busted.

“You were spyin’ on me?” he barked, trying to turn things around. This was happening far too often lately, the doc being on the winning end of these sparring matches and it annoyed Sawyer to no end. Nobody beat Sawyer when it came to the artful use of the spoken word.

Except Jack now, apparently, and for no reason Sawyer could figure. He glowered, irritated beyond all reason. “You watch me jerk off, too?” he asked, sneering.

Jack remained unfazed. “No, I wasn’t spying on you. I was going to go get them for myself but you beat me to it,” Jack said matter-of-factly, leaning against the wall of the cave, arms crossed. Sawyer stared at him, shocked that he’d admit to such a thing. “And no, I didn’t watch you jerk off, although I did hear you jerk off.”

Sawyer choked.

“The caves, Sawyer, the acoustics are different. Jerking off here is a fine art and one you haven’t been able to master,” Jack said, grinning suddenly and broadly, and, to Sawyer’s disgusted amazement, laughing. At Sawyer.

“Bet you got off on it, didn’t you? Jerk off yourself while listenin’ to me get off?” Sawyer said, hoping to embarrass Jack to the point that he’d run away and leave Sawyer to sleep in peace after maybe enjoying one more go ‘round with the lovely Candy Cane, albeit a quieter one knowing what he knew now, and also if he could manage to pry the pages apart without ripping good ol’ Candy all to hell.

“If I did, you’d never have known. I have mastered the fine art of jerking off here at the caves,” Jack said, still grinning.

Sawyer stared at Jack blankly, now stuck with the uncomfortable and extremely erotic image of Jack jerking off while listening to him jerk off, and his brain seized up like an engine running without oil and he found himself at a complete and total loss for a comeback.

Jack stared at him for a moment, eyes wide with feigned innocence, waiting for a response, and when he didn’t get one he suddenly became all business again. “Get up. You’re fine. We need your help, and besides, you stink.”

Sawyer scowled. “Everybody stinks by now.”

“Not as badly as you do. You’ve been laying there sweating for a month. Get up.”

“Could give me a sponge bath,” Sawyer said, trying again with the sexual teasing, putting as much leer in his voice and on his face as he could and trailing one hand suggestively across his bare chest.

He gave Jack his most seductive smile, sloe-eyed and sleepy, the one that always worked, the one that made women hike up their skirts and made men drop to their knees. If that didn’t run him off, Sawyer thought, he didn’t know what would.

Jack’s expression didn’t change. “Considering how bad your fever was, I had to give you more sponge baths than I’ve ever had to give any patient, ever. And for somebody as sick as you were, you certainly seemed to enjoy them. A lot.”

Sawyer blinked in surprise and then glared. “What in the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Jack looked pointedly at Sawyer’s crotch and smirked but said nothing, just brought one hand up to cover his mouth and Sawyer frowned, knowing by the look in Jack’s eye that he was hiding one hell of a shit-eating grin.

“Are you tryin’ to tell me that I . . . that you . . . did I . . . you’re a lyin’ son of bitch!” Sawyer bellowed, for lack of anything else to say and cursing himself internally for not having anything else to say. He sure as hell was losing his touch, he thought, scowling as hard as he could.

The slight creases around Jack’s eyes deepened as his hidden grin widened.

“I’m kidding, Sawyer. Get up, get dressed, go take a bath,” Jack ordered, voice muffled by his hand, and then he turned to leave. “But watch that shoulder, keep it out of the water.”

Sawyer glowered at Jack as he left and tried to kill him with his eyeballs, giving Jack’s back the dirtiest look he was able to pull forth as Jack walked away. But luck was not on Sawyer’s side today, and he sighed as Jack remained hale and hardy as he bounded quickly down the path to the beach instead of exploding into tiny pieces the way Sawyer wanted him to.

Ever since their conversation in the jungle about Jack’s father before the raft had set sail and Sawyer, Michael and Jin’s subsequent and completely accidental return, Jack had been treating Sawyer differently. Asking his opinion on the important things, endless good-spirited teasing and even, on the rare occasion, being nice.

Sawyer wasn’t sure if he hadn’t like the way things had been before better – at least then he’d known where he stood. It was as if the ground beneath them both had shifted, Sawyer had felt it happening even as he told the story and watched Jack’s face as he did so, and now it seemed Jack had both feet planted firmly while Sawyer was still fighting to find his balance.

He sighed again and sat up, slowly tugging on his t-shirt and wincing at the pain in his shoulder and wracking his brain as he tried to remember if there actually had been any humiliating sponge bath episodes. His memories were clouded by a red-fevered haze, but he did seem to remember something cool and wet sliding all over his body and the relief that brought and then feeling . . . oh, shit.

He clapped his hands over his eyes and groaned. Great, he thought, that was just fuckin’ great, he probably had gotten it up as the doc had sponged him down and, knowing himself as well as he did in this particular area, he had probably even begged Jack to do something about it.

Then suddenly and with startling clarity he saw the image of Jack hovering over him and his hand around Jack’s wrist, trying weakly to force his hand lower, and then Jack smiling slightly before pulling away and telling him he must be feeling better if he was in the mood for a hand-job and then ordering Sawyer to sleep before fading into the darkness.

Shit, he thought, and then wondered if he’d done the same thing to Sun. The thought of that was somehow more horrifying than the thought of coming on to the doc, so he quickly shoved the thought away with the resolution to never, ever look at Sun again and, as happened more and more often now, his thoughts drifted back to Jack.

Sawyer shifted uncomfortably and glared in the general direction of his dick, which apparently now had a mind of its own.

And then there was that whole jerking off thing. He wondered what he sounded like when he got himself off, he was usually too busy with other things to pay much attention. He wondered what he sounded like when he came, wondered if Jack had liked it, if it had made Jack hard. He found himself imagining Jack, dick in hand, stroking himself with his eyes closed and head back and mouth parted slightly and listening to Sawyer as they both got off, Jack coming hard when he heard Sawyer come.

Fuck, he thought, and then shook his head vigorously to rid his mind of the image and cursed at his cock, which was now fully off the leash and headed in directions Sawyer wasn’t so sure the rest of him was ready to go.

He flushed, grateful he was alone, and scrubbed hard at his face with both hands.

“Aw, hell.”

The cold water of the pools suddenly seemed like a fine idea.

***

Sawyer stood nude with the water up to his waist and cursed as he tried to figure out how in the hell he was supposed to take a bath and wash his hair without getting his fucking shoulder wet.

“Need help?”

Sawyer closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. This was just he needed.

“Hell, no. Don’t you have big chief leader-type shit you need to be doin’?” he shouted over his shoulder but he was too late, Jack was already wading into the water and in Sawyer’s direction. He sighed. God must hate him today, he thought wearily, just like every other damned day.

“I’ll make it quick,” Jack said, suddenly right behind him and Sawyer jumped, startled, and then started to lose his balance in the slimy silt that coated the floor of the pool. Jack grabbed him by the elbows, righted him, and before he knew it a soapy rag was running quickly and efficiently down the length of his back and then across his chest and shoulders, and before he could blink Jack was done and was rinsing him down with a bowl of water.

Sawyer scowled, just a little. It’d happened so fast he hadn’t even gotten to enjoy it. Not that he wanted to, he told himself immediately.

“Hell, when you say quick you do mean quick,” he muttered, turning to face Jack and then cursing when he realized Jack was nude. “Now why in the hell would you come out here naked? Lookin’ to check out what you heard last night?”

“Well, yeah, that,” Jack said, soaping himself now. “That, and I figured if I were going to give you a bath I might as well take one myself. Can’t afford to waste anything out here.” He looked up at Sawyer and gave him the full-on version of that shit-eating grin.

Sawyer growled in irritation and turned away. “Hair?” he prompted, pointing at his head.

“Lean to your right,” Jack ordered and Sawyer did so, and then the water was cold against his head and neck and Jack’s fingers were in his hair, brisk and efficient as they’d been on his body but still something about his touch against Sawyer’s hair caused Sawyer’s eyes to close and his body go limp and then before he realized it he was leaning against Jack heavily. He loved having his hair washed, pulled, stroked and it had been a long time since any of that had happened and he sighed in pleasure.

“Like that?” Jack whispered and Sawyer gave a muted noise of assent, eyes still closed, then he moaned softly as Jack’s touch slowed, became more of massage, a caress, and his body relaxed further and when Jack shifted to rinse his hair he almost sank below the waterline.

Again Jack righted him. “The shoulder, Sawyer,” he muttered in irritation.

“Yeah, whatever,” Sawyer murmured and then turned and stumbled toward the bank with every intention of collapsing and sleeping for the rest of his life.

He barely noticed and didn’t really care as Jack followed, close at his heels, but then suddenly Jack’s arm whipped around him from behind and pulled their wet bodies together tightly, and then Sawyer was wide awake and angry and struggling.

“Let go of me, you asshole,” he muttered, trying to throw an elbow but Jack caught it with ease and plastered himself against Sawyer, the hair on his chest rasping roughly against the skin of Sawyer’s back and Sawyer blinked in surprise, surprised both at Jack’s actions and his own body’s response to them.

He closed his eyes and cursed. “Not in the mood for this bullshit right now, got that, Doc? Now fuckin’ let me go.”

“No.”

“No?” Sawyer barked in disbelief and started struggling in earnest. “When I tell you to let me go then you’ll damn well let me go! Now fuckin’ let me go!”

But instead Jack’s hand was in his hair, tugging, forcing Sawyer’s head back against Jack’s shoulder and then his mouth was against Sawyer’s ear, his lips hot and wet and whiskers rasping against sensitive skin and Sawyer shuddered.

“What in the hell is wrong with you?” he hissed, struggling to free himself from the grip Jack had around his waist.

“Nothing’s wrong with me,” Jack whispered and Sawyer’s eyes closed at the feel of Jack’s breath against his ear. “I want you, Sawyer, and I’m going to take you, here and now.”

His hold on Sawyer tightened and suddenly his cock was nudging against Sawyer’s ass as he rocked against Sawyer ever so slightly, and Sawyer felt his own twitch in response.

Sawyer’s knees weakened slightly at Jack’s touch, at his words, at the low vibration of need in his voice, but he thought as he still fought against Jack’s hold on him that if this was ever going to happen then it would damn well happen on Sawyer’s terms.

“Did you ever stop and think that maybe, just maybe, that I don’t want you, you arrogant bastard?” Sawyer muttered, hands gripping the corded, muscled thickness of Jack’s forearm as he tried to pry himself loose.

He shivered helplessly when he felt Jack grin against the wet skin of his neck, tongue darting out to lick at the point just under Sawyer’s ear.

“No,” Jack said, mouth moving up again to Sawyer’s ear and nipping at it sharply and Sawyer cursed at the sparks that shot down his spine at the feel of it. “Because I already know that you do.”

“Fuck off! How in the hell could you know that?” Sawyer spat, still fighting but weakening under words and touch.

“The fever. You talked, a lot, about a lot of things that are none of my business,” Jack said and that Sawyer stiffened, terrified at what he might have said.

“Stop it,” Jack whispered soothingly. “None of it was important – except the parts about me.”

Sawyer froze and Jack began whispering in his ear. “You said you hated me. You said you wanted me. Said you wanted me on my knees, sucking you off. Said you wanted to come in my mouth. You would call me names one second and then the next you were begging me to touch you, to fuck you, to make you come.”

Sawyer muttered a curse, closed his eyes and trembled and Jack tugged harder at Sawyer’s hair, forcing Sawyer’s head back as far as it would go and then planted his mouth on Sawyer’s shoulder, making slow, warm, wet swipes with his tongue along the flesh of his shoulder and up his neck again to Sawyer’s ear and God, Sawyer thought, so goddamned good, like liquid fire in his veins and he swayed and then leaned back against Jack heavily, causing Jack to grunt in appreciation and start humping against him harder, his breath coming faster in Sawyer’s ear.

“And from the first time I heard you say those things, Sawyer, and even before that, I wanted you. And now I’m going to take you, take everything you fucking have until there’s nothing left, and then I’m going to give it all back to you, do all those things that you want me to do and more,” Jack muttered and then he bit down fiercely at the side of Sawyer’s neck and Sawyer jumped and then the whole of his body was heavy, weak with the raging need of desire and his head was heavy on his shoulders and falling to the side and Jack took advantage of this new position to explore every inch of Sawyer’s neck with lips, teeth and tongue.

“Jesus,” Sawyer whispered and shoved back against Jack hard, making him gasp and shift position, both hands moving to Sawyer’s hips as Jack ground against him from behind, face buried in Sawyer’s hair and breath hot against the back of Sawyer’s neck as he groaned and then he moved, leaning over Sawyer’s shoulder.

“Sawyer,” Jack murmured, grabbing Sawyer’s jaw and forcing him to face him. He was grinning, but his eyes were black and predatory and the hair on the back of Sawyer’s neck rose and he wondered absently if anyone else had ever been on the receiving end of that look, a look that screamed of fucking and of want and of need, a look that ordered without words you and now.

Sawyer closed his eyes against it – he’d had more than his fair share of people lust after him in his lifetime but nobody, nobody had ever looked at him like that. It angered him, frightened him, made him harder than he already was and he wondered if it were the look itself or the man behind it that bothered him so much.

He opened his eyes and fought to dam back the flood of feeling the look on Jack’s face unleashed.

“Who in the hell do you think you are?” he muttered, panicked now and again tried to pry himself loose but Jack’s fingers tightened painfully on hip and jaw.

“I’m what you want,” Jack whispered. “But more than that, I’m what you need. So just shut the hell up and let me fuck you.”

Sawyer snarled, enraged and aroused and then the sound was muffled when Jack’s mouth was hard against Sawyer’s, tongue sliding along Sawyer’s mouth and teeth tugging hard at Sawyer’s lower lip and he was whispering, between the strokes of his tongue and the bite of his teeth, ordering Sawyer to open up, to let him inside, to let Jack taste him, and then his hand was drifting down, fingertips ghosting teasingly along Sawyer’s cock and at that Sawyer had had enough.

He shoved back with everything he had, throwing both of them to the ground and then he rolled, bracing himself with his hands as he attacked Jack with his mouth, biting hard at the base of his neck and then sucking wetly, feeling a surge of triumph at the Fuck, yes Jack muttered as he arched up against Sawyer, hands thrusting again into Sawyer’s hair and yanking it just right, just hard enough, just the way Sawyer liked it and now they were both breathing hard and Sawyer forgot the fear and unease and instead focused on how good Jack tasted, the salt of sea and of sweat, and then he moved up the length of Jack’s neck, teeth grazing hard against whiskered-roughened skin and then tongue licking soothingly at the marks he left.

He felt Jack shudder underneath him, heard him groan, and there was a corresponding roar in his ears as he realized how much power he actually had here, realized that under his touch Jack would weaken, beg, and Sawyer would become what Jack needed, that he was already was what Jack needed, and at the thought of that Sawyer finally, finally found his footing in this new place the two of them had constructed and he began moving lower, lazy, wet trails of his tongue down Jack’s chest and across his belly.

“No,” Jack muttered, looking down at Sawyer with eyes heavy-lidded and black and hands now painful in Sawyer’s hair as he tried to pull him upward.

“Yes,” Sawyer whispered defiantly and began moving again before finding himself flat on his back, every inch of his body covered by Jack’s own as Jack pinned him to the ground.

“I said, no,” Jack growled against Sawyer’s mouth and then Sawyer’s hands moved, tight against either side of Jack’s head and he was sucking at Jack’s mouth and when Jack gasped Sawyer delved inside with his tongue, making a muffled noise of pleasure at the way Jack tasted, at the feel of Jack’s tongue tangling with his own as Jack surrendered, kissed him back, mouth hot and wet and eager, his groans vibrating against Sawyer’s mouth and down his spine and then it was too much, too slow, now his body roared and one hand reached down to grasp Jack, stroking him roughly and quickly and without finesse, his lips and teeth and tongue still dancing hotly with Jack’s own and Sawyer bucked up hard with his hips, demanding to be touched and then there it was, a warm, rough hand around him and jerking him hard and fast and he pulled his mouth away, gasping for breath, resting his head on the ground as his hips pumped into Jack’s hand and he watched Jack’s face as he stroked him, amazed that he could make Jack want him, want this, so fucking much.

“Jesus, Sawyer,” Jack hissed, resting his forehead against Sawyer’s own and closing his eyes and hardening even further under Sawyer’s touch.

“Just don’t stop touchin’ me, you son of a bitch,” Sawyer muttered. “Fuck, don’t stop, don’t you fuckin’ stop . . .” And then Jack groaned, back bowing and then he was biting down sharply on Sawyer’s lip as he came, wet and hot over Sawyer’s hand and he fought to catch his breath and then stopped stroking Sawyer, causing Sawyer to curse and bite sharply at his jaw, but then he slid one hand across Sawyer’s belly and he was stroking Sawyer again, hand wet and slick now.

“Fuck,” Sawyer muttered through clenched teeth, almost dizzy with the intensity of it and then that red wave was slamming through him, hard and sudden and he arched up against Jack and clutched hard at Jack’s shoulders as the world fell away.

***

“Watch that fucking shoulder!” Jack bellowed from the bank of the pool.

Sawyer rolled his eyes and sighed.

“You know, I think I got that the first five hundred fuckin' times you told me,” he yelled back, and then finished rinsing off and waded back to the shore and began dressing quickly.

Jack watched him, lazing back on the ground, completely nude, with his arms crossed behind his head, and Sawyer took in the length of him for a long moment before grinning at him briefly and then winking when Jack smiled slightly, already well on the way to sleep.

"Later, Chief," Sawyer said and Jack nodded wearily in acknowledgment. Then Sawyer turned and started striding in the direction of his tent when in the darkness one foot caught underneath a rock and he stumbled, cursing loudly.

“You all right?” Jack called, not really sounding all that concerned.

“Yeah,” Sawyer called back before walking on. “Just had to get my balance is all.”

***

End