"I wanna hurt you just to hear you screaming my name..."
Title: Broken
Fandom: Lost
Pairing: Jack/Sawyer
Rating: PG (bad language)
Genre: Slash
Challenge/Prompt: 7snogs, 4. Sunset
Summary: Set during and after 1x08 "Confidence Man".
Author’s Notes: Don't ship the pairing but God it's crack to write.
Sawyer isn’t sure what to think when Jack appears in his tent. It’s getting dark, the sun casting long pinky-orange shadows across the beach. Kate and her eyes left him hours ago, trailing their guilt and promises that he’s a human being behind her. Sawyer is relieved that Jack’s here. At least he won’t try to fix him.
“Back for another shot, cowboy?” he asks. “Realised there were still some fingernails that you and Al-Quaeda didn’t get the chance to rip off?”
“Get up,” Jack orders.
“I’m taller than you, I think we established that before,” he drawls, getting to his feet anyway, amusement playing around his lips as he waits for Jack to make his next move.
Sawyer’s pretty sure he manages not to make a surprised sound when Jack’s mouth closes over his. It’s definitely the last thing he was expecting, and Jack is kissing him like he owns him, like he knows everything about Sawyer, like he’s really not going to let that bother him. Jack draws back, slowly, and Sawyer just hopes that his face doesn’t appear as stunned as he feels.
“Damn, cowboy, does Little Miss Freckles know that you-”
“Shut up, Sawyer,” Jack orders, “For once in your fucking life, just shut up.”
And Sawyer, for once in his fucking life, does. Jack looks a mixture of angry and horny and slightly nervous, running a hand over his face.
“If this is some kinda ploy, I seriously don’t have that medicine,” Sawyer tells him firmly, in order to break the silence. “If I wouldn’t hand it over when Freckles kissed me, I’d hardly hand it over if you did.”
“If this was about the medicine, I’d have hit you already,” Jack replies quietly, carefully not reacting when Sawyer mentions Kate.
“Well then, what’re you here for?” Sawyer asks, pretending that Jack hasn’t just kissed him, pretending that he didn’t like it, not even the tiniest bit.
Jack replies by knocking Sawyer to the ground, pinning him down with one of his knees. Sawyer is suddenly, forcibly, reminded of a few hours ago, Jack holding him down with Sawyer’s blood trickling between his hands. I’d watch you die, he told Jack through gritted teeth. And maybe he would. Maybe he wouldn’t. But he had to say something that sounded vaguely cruel because he felt so weak and vulnerable and Jack was literally holding his life in his hands.
“Guess watchin’ someone bleed to death really gets you hot, huh Doc?” he asks.
“I won’t ask again,” Jack growls, “Seriously Sawyer, fucking shut up.” And once again Sawyer obeys because he can’t help it. Jack kisses him again and suddenly Sawyer doesn’t much care that half his fingers are falling off because some Iraqi psycho shoved bamboo under them, or that his head feels like someone hit it with a pipe (oh yeah, because someone fucking did) or that all that hate is starting to make him feel pretty defenceless.
*
Jack seems pretty content to pretend that nothing ever happened, whether because he’s embarrassed or angry that he slipped towards the dark with the sun casting pink light over the two of them, his fingers tangled in Sawyer’s hair, or maybe all he ever wanted was to relieve the pressure a little. Whatever it was, he doesn’t mention it and Sawyer carefully doesn’t because something tells him that he isn’t in control of this situation, not at all.
He asks Jack to change the bandage on his arm, just once, because he’s feeling sort of tired and achy and his fingers don’t work properly. Jack says nothing while he does it, briskly, fingers fumbling slightly in urge not to touch very much of Sawyer’s bare skin. When he’s finished, Sawyer leans up and brushes his mouth against the doctor’s. Jack doesn’t return the kiss and doesn’t say anything. He just gets to his feet, brushing sand from his knees, and starts to walk away.
“Work out what the hell you want cowboy!” Sawyer shouts after him and Jack turns around. He looks furious for a moment, although Sawyer isn’t sure why, but he makes a visible effort to drag all his anger back inside again.
“Take your own advice Sawyer,” he snaps, and then walks back to the caves without looking back.
Fandom: Lost
Pairing: Jack/Sawyer
Rating: PG (bad language)
Genre: Slash
Challenge/Prompt: 7snogs, 4. Sunset
Summary: Set during and after 1x08 "Confidence Man".
Author’s Notes: Don't ship the pairing but God it's crack to write.
Sawyer isn’t sure what to think when Jack appears in his tent. It’s getting dark, the sun casting long pinky-orange shadows across the beach. Kate and her eyes left him hours ago, trailing their guilt and promises that he’s a human being behind her. Sawyer is relieved that Jack’s here. At least he won’t try to fix him.
“Back for another shot, cowboy?” he asks. “Realised there were still some fingernails that you and Al-Quaeda didn’t get the chance to rip off?”
“Get up,” Jack orders.
“I’m taller than you, I think we established that before,” he drawls, getting to his feet anyway, amusement playing around his lips as he waits for Jack to make his next move.
Sawyer’s pretty sure he manages not to make a surprised sound when Jack’s mouth closes over his. It’s definitely the last thing he was expecting, and Jack is kissing him like he owns him, like he knows everything about Sawyer, like he’s really not going to let that bother him. Jack draws back, slowly, and Sawyer just hopes that his face doesn’t appear as stunned as he feels.
“Damn, cowboy, does Little Miss Freckles know that you-”
“Shut up, Sawyer,” Jack orders, “For once in your fucking life, just shut up.”
And Sawyer, for once in his fucking life, does. Jack looks a mixture of angry and horny and slightly nervous, running a hand over his face.
“If this is some kinda ploy, I seriously don’t have that medicine,” Sawyer tells him firmly, in order to break the silence. “If I wouldn’t hand it over when Freckles kissed me, I’d hardly hand it over if you did.”
“If this was about the medicine, I’d have hit you already,” Jack replies quietly, carefully not reacting when Sawyer mentions Kate.
“Well then, what’re you here for?” Sawyer asks, pretending that Jack hasn’t just kissed him, pretending that he didn’t like it, not even the tiniest bit.
Jack replies by knocking Sawyer to the ground, pinning him down with one of his knees. Sawyer is suddenly, forcibly, reminded of a few hours ago, Jack holding him down with Sawyer’s blood trickling between his hands. I’d watch you die, he told Jack through gritted teeth. And maybe he would. Maybe he wouldn’t. But he had to say something that sounded vaguely cruel because he felt so weak and vulnerable and Jack was literally holding his life in his hands.
“Guess watchin’ someone bleed to death really gets you hot, huh Doc?” he asks.
“I won’t ask again,” Jack growls, “Seriously Sawyer, fucking shut up.” And once again Sawyer obeys because he can’t help it. Jack kisses him again and suddenly Sawyer doesn’t much care that half his fingers are falling off because some Iraqi psycho shoved bamboo under them, or that his head feels like someone hit it with a pipe (oh yeah, because someone fucking did) or that all that hate is starting to make him feel pretty defenceless.
*
Jack seems pretty content to pretend that nothing ever happened, whether because he’s embarrassed or angry that he slipped towards the dark with the sun casting pink light over the two of them, his fingers tangled in Sawyer’s hair, or maybe all he ever wanted was to relieve the pressure a little. Whatever it was, he doesn’t mention it and Sawyer carefully doesn’t because something tells him that he isn’t in control of this situation, not at all.
He asks Jack to change the bandage on his arm, just once, because he’s feeling sort of tired and achy and his fingers don’t work properly. Jack says nothing while he does it, briskly, fingers fumbling slightly in urge not to touch very much of Sawyer’s bare skin. When he’s finished, Sawyer leans up and brushes his mouth against the doctor’s. Jack doesn’t return the kiss and doesn’t say anything. He just gets to his feet, brushing sand from his knees, and starts to walk away.
“Work out what the hell you want cowboy!” Sawyer shouts after him and Jack turns around. He looks furious for a moment, although Sawyer isn’t sure why, but he makes a visible effort to drag all his anger back inside again.
“Take your own advice Sawyer,” he snaps, and then walks back to the caves without looking back.