Title:  “Me, Too”
Author:  uberaeryn
Fandom:  Lost
Pairing:  Jack/Sawyer
No Spoilers
Rating:  Adults Only: Language, sexual situations.

“Well, this is nice.”

Sawyer groaned. “Shut the fuck up, Doc, and do whatever in the hell it is you need to do.”

“Have you ever cut your toenails in your life?"

“You just gonna sit there and make fun of me while I mortally wounded? I’M BLEEDIN’ TO DEATH, YOU BASTARD!”

“You are not bleeding to death, you big baby,” Jack muttered, surveying the bottom of Sawyer’s foot which was, actually, bleeding quite a bit from a deep gash on his heel. “Roll over, on your stomach, I can’t see.”

Sawyer glared and then did so, and Jack knelt at Sawyer’s feet and pulled the injured one up, tilting it so that he could see in the torchlight, grabbing a bottle of water to rinse away the sand and grit as Sawyer jumped and grumbled.

“Where have you been, Sawyer?” Jack asked, squinting to see in the dim light. “You haven’t been around much lately.”

“Vacation, dumbass. Just got back from Aspen, where in the hell do you think I’ve been?” Sawyer said, his tone much nastier than usual.

Jack sighed, deciding that was all the information he was likely to get, and looked Sawyer’s foot over carefully.

“Sawyer, this is pretty bad,” Jack said, soberly. “You have monocondromalphonesis, if we don’t treat it now it could kill you within days. Hours, even. Might be too late, actually, I hope you have all your affairs in order.”

Sawyer kicked back hard and Jack grinned. “Now I know you’re makin’ shit up, very fuckin’ funny, I ain’t fallin’ for that again. Just fix it, all right? I ain’t in the mood for this.”

Jack snorted and ran his fingers gently along the side of the gash and again Sawyer jumped and kicked, groaning and muttering. “Knock it off, Sawyer, I can’t get it cleaned up if you keep moving around like that!”

Sawyer buried his face in his hands. “Just hurry up and do it!” he moaned, and Jack rolled his eyes.

“I’m trying!” Jack yelled, exasperated. Again he tried to peer at the cut on Sawyer’s heel, hands cupping the front of Sawyer’s foot and moving his thumbs to hold Sawyer’s foot firmly by the arch, heard a muffled yelp and got a foot to the nose for his efforts.

“Ow! What in the hell is wrong with you? There’s no way it can hurt that much, fuck!” Jack said, wiping away tears from the painful contact of Sawyer’s foot with his nose.

Sawyer groaned and Jack sighed. “For Christ’s sake,” Jack muttered, and whipped around so he was straddling Sawyer’s thighs. He wrapped one arm tight around Sawyer’s calf and clamped down hard with both knees around Sawyer’s thighs.

“What in the fuck are you doing?” Sawyer bellowed, wriggling.

“Holding you still so I can fucking clean this and get it bandaged and not get my nose broken in the process!” Jack yelled.

“HURRY THE HELL UP THEN!”

“STAY STILL AND I WILL!”

Jack tried again and it became a battle royale, Sawyer flailing and cursing and kicking and Jack struggling and cursing and hanging on to Sawyer’s leg tenaciously, and by the time the cut had been cleaned and bandaged, rather sloppily, to Jack’s disgust, they were both panting and grumbling and sweating.

Jack sat back, still astride Sawyer’s thighs, and sighed, holding Sawyer’s foot by the ankle. “Stay off it and don’t go in the water,” he muttered. “And there is one thing you should know, Sawyer, and I’m totally serious about this.”

Sawyer froze. “What? And don’t fuck around with me, Doc, I ain’t in the mood, no sparrin’ matches, verbal or physical, got it?”

“Really? I thought that’s the reason you came to see me in the first place, so you could find some reason to try to beat the shit out of me,” Jack said, smiling slightly.

“You get this one free,” Sawyer muttered. “Now what in the hell were you talkin’ about?”

Jack sighed, slightly disappointed. No floor show from Sawyer this evening. “You seem to have excessive reaction to the simultaneous excitation of both touch and pain receptors,” Jack said.

Sawyer sighed and Jack could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “English, Doc. What does that mean?”

Jack stared at Sawyer’s foot and then grinned. “You’re ticklish,” he said and then, despite the best of intentions considering Sawyer’s morose mood, Jack attacked, fingers digging into the soles of both feet, careful of the injury, laughing as Sawyer howled and writhed and cursed and kicked and threatened death, and Jack didn’t let up until Sawyer’s managed to roll him off in a tickle-induced fury, leaping on top of Jack and pinning him down and glaring down at him with such murderous rage that Jack almost yelled for help.

“Get off, Sawyer,” Jack wheezed, still laughing. “I was just kidding.”

“Very funny, Doc,” Sawyer growled, breathless, glaring as Jack still giggled. “And do you have excessive reaction to the simultaneous excitation of both touch and pain receptors?”

Jack froze and his eyes widened. “No!” he yelled, not fooling anybody.

Sawyer grinned, a slow, predatory smile that spread across his face slowly.

“Oh, shit!” Jack hissed and started struggling but it was too late, Sawyer’s hands were all over him, going for his ribs and thighs and knees, and Jack cursed and laughed and then cursed again, kicking and throwing elbows while Sawyer grinned triumphantly, and when they were both exhausted they threw themselves away from each other and lay panting in the sand.

“You are a complete asshole, Doc, we do that every fuckin’ time I have to come here, you treat all your patients like that?” Sawyer grumbled.

“No,” Jack sighed, exhausted. “Just you.”

“And why am I so damned special?”

“No one else will go ten rounds with me like that,” Jack said. “Besides you’re much more fun to torture,” Jack said, not thinking, and then he froze

Sawyer was quiet for a long time, and then he hauled himself to his feet. “Lucky me,” he said quietly, and Jack closed his eyes and cursed himself at the change in Sawyer’s tone.

Jack sat up suddenly, about to say something, he didn’t know what, anything, but Sawyer was already limping away wearily, head hanging.

***

Jack found him sitting on a rock near one of the pools, foot propped up and rubbing at his eyes with one hand, hair falling in his face, and he watched him for a long time, thinking about how quiet Sawyer had become lately, isolating himself, hiding. Jack wasn’t even sure if he’d been eating, now that he thought about it, and he sighed, cursing himself for not having seen it sooner and for the little stunt he’d pulled earlier.

“Sawyer . . .”

“Forget it.”

“No, Sawyer, listen . . .”

“I said, forget it. Go on, Doc, I’m tired, I’m just gonna go crash,” he said, tone harsh.

Jack sighed and knelt in front of him. “Sawyer,” he tried again, grabbing Sawyer’s forearm, but Sawyer jerked away.

“Don’t start, I’m too tired for this shit, what’s done is done, all that bullshit.”

“It will never be done, Sawyer. Something like that is never done.”

“It’s fuckin’ done, all right? Get the fuck outta here.”

“Look at me,” Jack whispered, pulling Sawyer’s hand away from his face. “Look at me, Sawyer.”

Sawyer did finally, and Jack was startled at the depth of the shadows beneath his eyes and how pale he seemed. “You gonna apologize? Make it all better?” Sawyer asked bitterly.

“No,” Jack said quietly, looking at him thoughtfully. “Because that’s not what this is really about, is it?”

Sawyer snorted and looked away. “I’m not much for talkin’ about my feelings, Doc,” he sneered.

“No shit, Sawyer, and I’m not asking you to.”

“Then why the hell are you here?” Sawyer asked, shoving his hands through his hair in frustration.

“I’m not sure,” Jack said, although he thought maybe he was as he watched him.

Sawyer stared down at him. “Then go on back.”

“I can’t,” Jack said.

Sawyer sighed and his head dropped. “Why?” he asked, sounding trapped, desperate for Jack to leave.

“Because I think you need something,” Jack said softly, still watching Sawyer closely. “Because, I think, you need me.”

Sawyer’s face hardened. “I don’t fuckin’ need anybody, Doc, so you can keep your damned pity, I don’t need - "

He stopped suddenly when Jack impulsively reached up and cupped Sawyer’s cheek in his palm. Jack could feel the muscles in his cheek jumping, and Jack stared at him closely, feeling an echo of whatever was going on inside Sawyer inside himself, and he straightened up on his knees and slid his hand into Sawyer’s hair.

“Stop it,” Sawyer said, voice gruff, but he didn’t pull away, just stared into Jack’s eyes as Jack ran his fingers through his hair slowly, again and again, for a long time, and then suddenly he sighed deeply and his face softened and his eyes closed and he leaned heavily into Jack’s hand. Jack pulled him closer and rested his forehead against the side of Sawyer’s face, closing his own eyes and resuming the slow, silken slide of his fingers through Sawyer’s hair and he felt Sawyer shudder.

“You feel all alone. Is that it?” Jack whispered.

Sawyer sighed softly and turned so that his forehead rested against Jack’s.

“Maybe,” he whispered, so quiet Jack could barely hear him.

“Maybe,” Jack murmured, tilting his head and bring his lips close to Sawyer’s. “Maybe me, too.”

“Tired,” Sawyer whispered, lips against Jack’s now, and Jack’s fingers tightened in the hair on the back of Sawyer’s head.

“Me, too,” Jack whispered and brushed his mouth lightly against Sawyer’s and then pulled back a breath away, waiting, counting the beats of his heart, one, two and then Sawyer was sliding his hands around the back of Jack’s neck, teasing Jack’s mouth open with his own, tongue sliding against Jack’s lightly, slowly, wet and warm. Jack shuddered and moaned low in the back of his throat, dizzy now with the heat spreading through his body, and Sawyer answered with a groan of his own, a low rumble in his chest, and he tilted his head to kiss Jack more deeply, sucking on Jack’s tongue and nipping at his lips, breath hot against Jack’s mouth, and Jack pulled away slightly.

“God, Sawyer,” he whispered, shuddering as Sawyer’s mouth ran along his jaw and to his ear.

“Touch me,” Sawyer ordered, pulling back and undoing his jeans and watching as Jack grabbed his cock firmly and started stroking.

“Like that?” Jack whispered, running his tongue along the outside of Sawyer’s ear and Sawyer shivered.

“Fuck, yeah” Sawyer hissed, watching. “Good, that’s so fuckin’ good, Jack, nice and hard . . .” he murmured, and then he pulled Jack close, kissing him again, hungry, moaning into Jack’s mouth as Jack jerked him harder, and then Jack wrapped one arm around him and pulled him to the ground, and they rolled on to their sides, Sawyer hooking one leg loosely over Jack’s hips and unfastening Jack’s shorts and sliding his hand inside, stroking Jack as Jack stroked him, resting his head on Jack’s upper arm and reaching up to capture his mouth again.

“Christ,” Jack whispered against Sawyer’s lips, silver spangling against black behind his closed eyes at Sawyer’s touch.

“Like that?” Sawyer whispered, repeating Jack’s earlier words, his tongue darting out to slide along Jack’s mouth.

“God, yes,” Jack growled, thrusting hard into Sawyer’s hand, and then there were no more words, just noises of pleasure drifting through the humid air of the jungle night.

***

Sawyer shoved Jack on to his back, the leg with the injured foot draped over Jack’s thighs and his head resting on Jack’s chest.

“Need to get cleaned up, get back,” Jack whispered, then yawned.

“Yeah,” Sawyer said, not moving, instead resting more heavily against Jack. “Listen, no more of this feelings bullshit, right?”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Fine.

“And if you ever tickle me again, I’ll fuckin’ kill you. I hate that.”

Jack snorted. “Me, too. Sorry.”

Sawyer grabbed Jack’s hand and brought it to his hair. “But do that thing with my hair again. I like that.”

Jack smiled slightly. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Me, too." And again he started threading his fingers through Sawyer’s hair and Sawyer sighed, relaxing into him, asleep almost immediately and Jack not long after.


***