Fic: Close (Jack/Sawyer)
Y'all bear with me with the forty million things I'm posting lately. I've been starved for writing fanfic in the last couple of months, so I'm feeding my muse. She is currently very happy. :)
Title: Close
Pairing: Jack/Sawyer
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Needy, sappy Sawyer. Spoilers for 2.19 (‘Two for the Road’).
Summary: I’ve read so much fabulous deep fic lately, with these two healing each other in such powerful ways, that I took a detour from the s/D ideas I had and decided to produce something serious and, I think, perhaps romantic. Certainly fluffy.
Note: For alliecat8.
Close
Sawyer had known Jack would blame himself. It didn’t matter what happened, he always took it on as his own defeat, and that killed Sawyer. Sawyer knew better than maybe anybody realized how strong the man was. In taking everything on, he made himself the one that kept things going. His energy galvanized the whole group, maybe even sustained them. Sawyer could understand strength. He hadn’t survived the life he’d been given and the life he made without being tough and fearless. But Jack was not fearless, and nearly every ounce of his strength was poured into things he couldn’t change, battles he would lose. Sawyer liked to imagine Jack as in command of something he could succeed at, and without running himself down so far he couldn’t even remember how to smile. But he didn’t think that was really likely or maybe even possible, and this is why he stole the guns.
It was worth it, even the scorn it earned him. Hell, he could deal with scorn just fine. Watching Jack’s chest heave then finally collapse into his body with the realization that he couldn’t control this one thing anymore was beautiful. Jack didn’t even have to blame himself; he could instead blame the evil man who had tricked them all just to get a little more power. But all the power he really wanted was to give Jack something he couldn’t feel defeated about; instead, Jack would stand up, say fifty damn fool things to make Sawyer give him back the guns, and when Sawyer faced him down and looked into those eyes and saw real fire, the kind that he couldn’t ignore, he would gladly give him a gun and try hard not to pull him close and dig his fingers into the man’s arms to feel the muscle and the blood racing and the power of the strongest man on the island.
Then Ana Lucia had gotten in the way. She had her own fire, and he let her take his gun, freely. He knew it wasn’t his fault that they were dead. He didn’t pull the trigger. He could mostly take away the guilt from that. What he couldn’t take away the guilt from was the look on Jack’s face as he slipped the needle into Libby’s arm and helped her die. Sawyer began to think he should have done it himself, another way to take the burden off, just for a moment. Instead, he held Kate because Jack would never let him, and he watched as Jack’s whole body crumbled in on itself and his eyes went blank and he seemed to entirely forget how strong he was, if he was ever really aware of it anyway. Sawyer saw the tears-the man was always on the verge of letting everything he felt well up into his eyes-but they held this time. Jack had shut down with just the drop of his head. Defeat. Not even anger anymore.
So he followed Jack out of the hatch and into the light. Jack didn’t even turn around to see who it was that was coming behind him. Sawyer didn’t say a word, only walking a few paces behind him until Jack finally stopped.
“What?” he said without turning. “What is it, Sawyer?”
“Worried. That’s all.”
Jack was about to turn, but Sawyer slipped up behind him and slid his arms around Jack’s waist, pressing his chest and stomach into Jack’s back and resting his forehead on his neck.
To his surprise, Jack didn’t jerk away. He liked to think that this was inevitable, that Jack had been expecting him to do this-had wanted it-but it was more than likely just another symptom of how broken he was. Sawyer struggled to keep his breathing in check now that he was doing this, touching him, so close, so warm, it was too fast and too much, but he held it together and only let his face turn up so he could kiss the back of Jack’s neck. When Jack shivered, he felt something catch in his throat.
“Sawyer…” Jack couldn’t form words, but his hands were soon covering Sawyer’s hands, hot and so close to clutching him that Sawyer could feel the tension in his arms, so Sawyer moved, tightening his grip, and he let his lips travel across Jack’s neck. He tasted salt, and he wanted more than anything to bite down, to devour Jack, or at least make him feel something. But Sawyer forced himself to be slow and gentle so that he could read Jack, and it was amazing to feel the struggle in his body. Jack wanted more, but he didn’t know how to get it, so he waited, as patiently as Sawyer waited himself, for more, for moving and for Sawyer’s breath in his ear, for some indication of what this was. Sawyer could almost feel his adrenaline, and he could feel the struggle start to overwhelm the simplicity of holding and touching him, so he decided to show him exactly what this was.
Sawyer released Jack from his arms and turned him, looking at him frankly, as though he needed permission to do what Jack’s tired but tightly wound body needed and wanted. Even greater than the physical was the absolutely frightening pull of Jack’s eyes, such need like a great lead weight, all that strength behind it, and Sawyer was almost sorry for doing this because it was too hard living in Jack’s eyes this way, but he couldn’t stop now. He pulled his thumb across Jack’s lower lip and then kissed him. He had meant for it to be slow and somehow life-giving, sustaining, but Jack was not just receiving but taking, his tongue already probing into Sawyer’s mouth and his hands gripping his waist hard enough to leave bruises. Sawyer sighed into the kiss and let Jack’s mouth ravage his for a time, so good, so sweet, so hungry, God, so good, and he felt himself slipping away into it, letting Jack have power, but as much as he wanted that from Jack, to feel him take complete control of his body, he had to stop letting him do this, to make this another thing that rests on his shoulders to win or lose. That was ludicrous, because somewhere inside the sweetest arousal Sawyer had ever felt was the notion that this would never be lost, even if it killed him to keep it.
Sawyer pushed back into this kiss, his hands now sliding over Jack’s neck and tilting it back, taking the kiss deeper. Jack invited him in, met his tongue, and Sawyer felt his own soft lips folding over Jack’s as his mouth now submitted to the warmth and care and slow, wonderful slide and suck that Sawyer had begun. His fingers traced patterns over Jack’s jaw and neck until Jack was groaning almost helplessly. Then Jack was finally pressing into him with his whole body, and it did something powerful to Sawyer to feel him warm and yielding, feel his broad chest and solid stomach and finally his hard cock leaning into Sawyer, and Sawyer could not longer keep himself totally under control. He clutched Jack to him tightly, with his arm around his neck. It was like a jolt of energy, to hold this much intensity and trust in his hands. This truly was trust, and it was so unexpected that it stole Sawyer’s breath just as surely as it did to feel how hard Jack was and how willing and how needy- shattered, starved, defeated, but still aching and asking and resting there in Sawyer’s arms as if he didn’t need to think anymore. Sawyer had done that once, when Eko had carried him home. He had been fighting to stay awake and alive, but he hadn’t known that he was staying alive to get to Jack. Once Jack had hauled him into the shower, cradling his body, he let it all go, finally feeling the fear and at the same time the hope and it all crystallized for him into the pressure of Jack’s arms and the sound of his voice. This is what he needed now.
“Jack,” he mumbled.
“What are you…?“
“Jack, do you want me to stop?”
“No. I just-- No. I don’t know what I want. I don’t think-- I can’t have this now, it’s just-- I don’t know why--“
Sawyer smoothed a hand over his neck, and he stopped talking, dropping his head onto Sawyer’s shoulder. Sawyer said, “Yes you do. You do know what you want. What should I do?”
Jack raised his head and turned to him. “I can’t even think about this. It’s too much. It’s not the right--“
“Jack. What is it you want?” He let his lips touch Jack’s neck as his body sank against Jack’s, hearing the sound of his voice like something physical.
“I didn’t know.”
“What?”
“I didn’t know I even-- When did I start wanting this? How is it--“
Sawyer kissed him to shut him up, and he felt tears flowing down Jack’s face and into their mouths. Then he said, “It’s okay Doc. You can need this and still hate me. I won’t tell them.”
“I don’t hate you. How could I? You don’t have any idea what I’m feeling from you right now, do you? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You didn’t ask,” he said, kissing him again because the hard questions were coming in his eyes, and he wasn’t ready to answer them. This was already deeper than he’d meant to go. He should have known Jack couldn’t take without giving, or take without knowing exactly what it was he was getting. It was like Jack was beginning to shift the weight again, back to his shoulders-the weight of all of Sawyer’s reluctance and self-pity and all those other things he had forgotten he felt because he felt them so continually he didn’t even notice them anymore.
Jack pulled away, forcing their bodies apart. “We shouldn’t do this now.”
“This is exactly when we should be doing this.”
“Not while--“
“Do you think they would begrudge us trying to feel better? Even Ana Lucia had a heart, and if she saw what sort of hell you were putting yourself through, I think she’d even approve of me to fix you.”
“Fix me?”
“I’m gonna try. You need this. You need me.”
“I don’t need this.”
“If you think this is just sex, you’re crazy, and if you think a human being can survive long without someone to touch him, you’re even crazier.”
“I didn’t even know. I just--“
“Well, guess what?” Sawyer suddenly felt his heart pumping wildly again. “I didn’t know either. I don’t care if you need it or not. I do.”
Sawyer recognized it in Jack’s face, and then he almost cursed himself. He’d given it all back to Jack, all his stupid need to take on everything, now taking on Sawyer. What was scary was the next look on Jack’s face, the one that told him Jack felt like he could succeed in this; somehow, it said against all probability, this one can be salvaged. That was all he needed, to be hollowed out enough that Jack rose to the occasion.
So Sawyer repeated himself, soft and so open in Jack’s ear: “What do you want, Jack?”
“Your mouth,” he said, and it made Sawyer nearly shudder.
“And will you let me fuck you?” he whispered in return.
Jack just nodded.
Jack followed him off the trail out to a small clearing a few meters away. Sawyer took off his own shirt and Jack’s to lay on the ground, to let Jack lie back on them. He crawled on top of Jack, to kiss him and to hold their chests together and to use his hips to make him groan with need again. Jack’s mouth yielded immediately to his now with a return of passion, and Jack’s hands found his ass, pulling him closer, tighter, hotter, more friction, gasps of breath, waves of arousal that made Sawyer close his eyes and bite back every impulse he had to begin yanking at clothing and get his hands on Jack’s cock or spread him wide open and fuck him deep. Soon enough, Jack was asking for it without words, and Sawyer made quick work of taking off his pants and boxers before he took in Jack’s cock, swallowing against his petal-soft head, then lapping at it with his tongue as Jack cried out. Greedy for the taste of him, Sawyer let his tongue pass across the slit over and over, and Jack continued to leak for him. Sawyer would suck long without moving-concentrating on the musky scent of his arousal and the salty taste of it-finally pulling his lips toward the tip slowly to slick his tongue across it again.
It didn’t take long before Jack was begging him for more, and Sawyer complied, caught up as he was in the feel of Jack’s whole body clenching and his voice going surprisingly deep, as if he brought up the need from down in his chest. Sawyer moved his mouth up and down Jack’s shaft as his hands gently massaged his balls, until Jack was pushing up with his hips, begging to be taken in all the way. Sawyer sucked him harder now, listening to his deep groans and feeling as though he himself would come soon if Jack didn’t. When Jack did finally gasp and shoot off in his mouth, Sawyer swallowed it down with relief.
Sitting up, Sawyer asked him, “Are you sure you want me inside you?”
Jack nodded, but he added, “I’ve just never…”
“Are you sure, then?”
Jack nodded resolutely, and when Sawyer turned away to finish undressing, he was once again afraid of this. That Jack would let him in so easily, and would let him do this, something that apparently he had never done or thought about doing. He had probably never been with a man, but he was here with Sawyer, and when he looked back at him, he was breathing slowly and making himself calm for Sawyer, making Sawyer calm too.
Sawyer turned him onto him stomach and told him exactly what he was doing as he did it. As his hands worked at opening him, Sawyer breathed against his back and neck, telling him to relax, the most important thing is to relax.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. “You tell me if I do.”
Jack replied, “Okay.”
Sawyer took his time entering Jack, remembering well his first time being penetrated. It could be an uncomfortable feeling at first, even when you were used to it, but Jack wasn’t. Sawyer just kept telling him to breathe and to release, and slowly, Jack accepted his cock deeper, deep enough for him to start thrusting. He didn’t pull out very far, just letting his hips rock into Jack’s body. He pulled his torso down until he was pressed into Jack’s back, and he tried to concentrate on the sound of his breathing and the million tiny noises he made that would tell Sawyer what to do, when to move. But when Jack finally began to thrust back a bit, Sawyer found that his hips were moving, and when Jack didn’t struggle against it or tell him to stop, he drove in deep, repeating it, that slow thrusting that felt so good, that let him watch Jack’s back, how it curved into his ass, where Sawyer could watch his cock sliding in and feel Jack’s body accepting.
Quickly, Jack realized that Sawyer wasn’t going to get off this way; he was going slow for Jack’s sake. So Jack asked him, begged him, to do what he needed to come, so he thrust faster and harder, his hands still smoothing at whatever of Jack’s muscles were under them and his voice still telling Jack to just stay relaxed, just let me fill you, you feel so good, let me in, God, so good. Before he knew it, he was coming hard and Jack was wincing as he pulled out.
It shouldn’t have surprised him, but Jack rolled over and drew Sawyer back against him, into his arms. Sawyer mumbled, “You’ll be sore tomorrow. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.”
“How did it feel?”
“Strange. Then so full and heavy with your whole body on top of me.”
“I mean, did it feel good?”
There was a pause before Jack said simply, “Yes. Good.”
Sawyer lay there pulled to Jack’s chest, and he was struck by the magnitude of what he’d started here. This was something enormous. It didn’t seem to scare Jack, and that was the most frightening thing of all. Jack held him close but not as if he had to keep him. Jack had no idea how close he was to running now; he seemed to have more faith than he did, that stupid stubborn faith of a born healer.
Breathing against his neck, kissing it, Jack said, “Sawyer, I don’t know what this means.”
“Well, neither do I,” he replied.
“You’re not-“
“Whatever you’re thinking, no. I’m not. From here on out, I’m not. Can you live with that?”
“It doesn’t look like I have a choice.”
“No. I don’t guess I really did either.”
A few minutes later, Jack got up, reaching down to pull Sawyer from the ground with a sure grip and a strong pull with all his body weight. After they put back on their dirty and stained clothes, Sawyer followed Jack back to the hatch, almost seeing the lines as they came back into his face. If he thought he was protective of Jack before, this was a whole new level of both worry and faith. He had wanted to prove that Jack needed him-and he had-but what he’d made even clearer was how badly he needed Jack.
He followed him through the jungle cautiously, but close. Always close now, because there was no other way for it to be.
Title: Close
Pairing: Jack/Sawyer
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Needy, sappy Sawyer. Spoilers for 2.19 (‘Two for the Road’).
Summary: I’ve read so much fabulous deep fic lately, with these two healing each other in such powerful ways, that I took a detour from the s/D ideas I had and decided to produce something serious and, I think, perhaps romantic. Certainly fluffy.
Note: For alliecat8.
Close
Sawyer had known Jack would blame himself. It didn’t matter what happened, he always took it on as his own defeat, and that killed Sawyer. Sawyer knew better than maybe anybody realized how strong the man was. In taking everything on, he made himself the one that kept things going. His energy galvanized the whole group, maybe even sustained them. Sawyer could understand strength. He hadn’t survived the life he’d been given and the life he made without being tough and fearless. But Jack was not fearless, and nearly every ounce of his strength was poured into things he couldn’t change, battles he would lose. Sawyer liked to imagine Jack as in command of something he could succeed at, and without running himself down so far he couldn’t even remember how to smile. But he didn’t think that was really likely or maybe even possible, and this is why he stole the guns.
It was worth it, even the scorn it earned him. Hell, he could deal with scorn just fine. Watching Jack’s chest heave then finally collapse into his body with the realization that he couldn’t control this one thing anymore was beautiful. Jack didn’t even have to blame himself; he could instead blame the evil man who had tricked them all just to get a little more power. But all the power he really wanted was to give Jack something he couldn’t feel defeated about; instead, Jack would stand up, say fifty damn fool things to make Sawyer give him back the guns, and when Sawyer faced him down and looked into those eyes and saw real fire, the kind that he couldn’t ignore, he would gladly give him a gun and try hard not to pull him close and dig his fingers into the man’s arms to feel the muscle and the blood racing and the power of the strongest man on the island.
Then Ana Lucia had gotten in the way. She had her own fire, and he let her take his gun, freely. He knew it wasn’t his fault that they were dead. He didn’t pull the trigger. He could mostly take away the guilt from that. What he couldn’t take away the guilt from was the look on Jack’s face as he slipped the needle into Libby’s arm and helped her die. Sawyer began to think he should have done it himself, another way to take the burden off, just for a moment. Instead, he held Kate because Jack would never let him, and he watched as Jack’s whole body crumbled in on itself and his eyes went blank and he seemed to entirely forget how strong he was, if he was ever really aware of it anyway. Sawyer saw the tears-the man was always on the verge of letting everything he felt well up into his eyes-but they held this time. Jack had shut down with just the drop of his head. Defeat. Not even anger anymore.
So he followed Jack out of the hatch and into the light. Jack didn’t even turn around to see who it was that was coming behind him. Sawyer didn’t say a word, only walking a few paces behind him until Jack finally stopped.
“What?” he said without turning. “What is it, Sawyer?”
“Worried. That’s all.”
Jack was about to turn, but Sawyer slipped up behind him and slid his arms around Jack’s waist, pressing his chest and stomach into Jack’s back and resting his forehead on his neck.
To his surprise, Jack didn’t jerk away. He liked to think that this was inevitable, that Jack had been expecting him to do this-had wanted it-but it was more than likely just another symptom of how broken he was. Sawyer struggled to keep his breathing in check now that he was doing this, touching him, so close, so warm, it was too fast and too much, but he held it together and only let his face turn up so he could kiss the back of Jack’s neck. When Jack shivered, he felt something catch in his throat.
“Sawyer…” Jack couldn’t form words, but his hands were soon covering Sawyer’s hands, hot and so close to clutching him that Sawyer could feel the tension in his arms, so Sawyer moved, tightening his grip, and he let his lips travel across Jack’s neck. He tasted salt, and he wanted more than anything to bite down, to devour Jack, or at least make him feel something. But Sawyer forced himself to be slow and gentle so that he could read Jack, and it was amazing to feel the struggle in his body. Jack wanted more, but he didn’t know how to get it, so he waited, as patiently as Sawyer waited himself, for more, for moving and for Sawyer’s breath in his ear, for some indication of what this was. Sawyer could almost feel his adrenaline, and he could feel the struggle start to overwhelm the simplicity of holding and touching him, so he decided to show him exactly what this was.
Sawyer released Jack from his arms and turned him, looking at him frankly, as though he needed permission to do what Jack’s tired but tightly wound body needed and wanted. Even greater than the physical was the absolutely frightening pull of Jack’s eyes, such need like a great lead weight, all that strength behind it, and Sawyer was almost sorry for doing this because it was too hard living in Jack’s eyes this way, but he couldn’t stop now. He pulled his thumb across Jack’s lower lip and then kissed him. He had meant for it to be slow and somehow life-giving, sustaining, but Jack was not just receiving but taking, his tongue already probing into Sawyer’s mouth and his hands gripping his waist hard enough to leave bruises. Sawyer sighed into the kiss and let Jack’s mouth ravage his for a time, so good, so sweet, so hungry, God, so good, and he felt himself slipping away into it, letting Jack have power, but as much as he wanted that from Jack, to feel him take complete control of his body, he had to stop letting him do this, to make this another thing that rests on his shoulders to win or lose. That was ludicrous, because somewhere inside the sweetest arousal Sawyer had ever felt was the notion that this would never be lost, even if it killed him to keep it.
Sawyer pushed back into this kiss, his hands now sliding over Jack’s neck and tilting it back, taking the kiss deeper. Jack invited him in, met his tongue, and Sawyer felt his own soft lips folding over Jack’s as his mouth now submitted to the warmth and care and slow, wonderful slide and suck that Sawyer had begun. His fingers traced patterns over Jack’s jaw and neck until Jack was groaning almost helplessly. Then Jack was finally pressing into him with his whole body, and it did something powerful to Sawyer to feel him warm and yielding, feel his broad chest and solid stomach and finally his hard cock leaning into Sawyer, and Sawyer could not longer keep himself totally under control. He clutched Jack to him tightly, with his arm around his neck. It was like a jolt of energy, to hold this much intensity and trust in his hands. This truly was trust, and it was so unexpected that it stole Sawyer’s breath just as surely as it did to feel how hard Jack was and how willing and how needy- shattered, starved, defeated, but still aching and asking and resting there in Sawyer’s arms as if he didn’t need to think anymore. Sawyer had done that once, when Eko had carried him home. He had been fighting to stay awake and alive, but he hadn’t known that he was staying alive to get to Jack. Once Jack had hauled him into the shower, cradling his body, he let it all go, finally feeling the fear and at the same time the hope and it all crystallized for him into the pressure of Jack’s arms and the sound of his voice. This is what he needed now.
“Jack,” he mumbled.
“What are you…?“
“Jack, do you want me to stop?”
“No. I just-- No. I don’t know what I want. I don’t think-- I can’t have this now, it’s just-- I don’t know why--“
Sawyer smoothed a hand over his neck, and he stopped talking, dropping his head onto Sawyer’s shoulder. Sawyer said, “Yes you do. You do know what you want. What should I do?”
Jack raised his head and turned to him. “I can’t even think about this. It’s too much. It’s not the right--“
“Jack. What is it you want?” He let his lips touch Jack’s neck as his body sank against Jack’s, hearing the sound of his voice like something physical.
“I didn’t know.”
“What?”
“I didn’t know I even-- When did I start wanting this? How is it--“
Sawyer kissed him to shut him up, and he felt tears flowing down Jack’s face and into their mouths. Then he said, “It’s okay Doc. You can need this and still hate me. I won’t tell them.”
“I don’t hate you. How could I? You don’t have any idea what I’m feeling from you right now, do you? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You didn’t ask,” he said, kissing him again because the hard questions were coming in his eyes, and he wasn’t ready to answer them. This was already deeper than he’d meant to go. He should have known Jack couldn’t take without giving, or take without knowing exactly what it was he was getting. It was like Jack was beginning to shift the weight again, back to his shoulders-the weight of all of Sawyer’s reluctance and self-pity and all those other things he had forgotten he felt because he felt them so continually he didn’t even notice them anymore.
Jack pulled away, forcing their bodies apart. “We shouldn’t do this now.”
“This is exactly when we should be doing this.”
“Not while--“
“Do you think they would begrudge us trying to feel better? Even Ana Lucia had a heart, and if she saw what sort of hell you were putting yourself through, I think she’d even approve of me to fix you.”
“Fix me?”
“I’m gonna try. You need this. You need me.”
“I don’t need this.”
“If you think this is just sex, you’re crazy, and if you think a human being can survive long without someone to touch him, you’re even crazier.”
“I didn’t even know. I just--“
“Well, guess what?” Sawyer suddenly felt his heart pumping wildly again. “I didn’t know either. I don’t care if you need it or not. I do.”
Sawyer recognized it in Jack’s face, and then he almost cursed himself. He’d given it all back to Jack, all his stupid need to take on everything, now taking on Sawyer. What was scary was the next look on Jack’s face, the one that told him Jack felt like he could succeed in this; somehow, it said against all probability, this one can be salvaged. That was all he needed, to be hollowed out enough that Jack rose to the occasion.
So Sawyer repeated himself, soft and so open in Jack’s ear: “What do you want, Jack?”
“Your mouth,” he said, and it made Sawyer nearly shudder.
“And will you let me fuck you?” he whispered in return.
Jack just nodded.
Jack followed him off the trail out to a small clearing a few meters away. Sawyer took off his own shirt and Jack’s to lay on the ground, to let Jack lie back on them. He crawled on top of Jack, to kiss him and to hold their chests together and to use his hips to make him groan with need again. Jack’s mouth yielded immediately to his now with a return of passion, and Jack’s hands found his ass, pulling him closer, tighter, hotter, more friction, gasps of breath, waves of arousal that made Sawyer close his eyes and bite back every impulse he had to begin yanking at clothing and get his hands on Jack’s cock or spread him wide open and fuck him deep. Soon enough, Jack was asking for it without words, and Sawyer made quick work of taking off his pants and boxers before he took in Jack’s cock, swallowing against his petal-soft head, then lapping at it with his tongue as Jack cried out. Greedy for the taste of him, Sawyer let his tongue pass across the slit over and over, and Jack continued to leak for him. Sawyer would suck long without moving-concentrating on the musky scent of his arousal and the salty taste of it-finally pulling his lips toward the tip slowly to slick his tongue across it again.
It didn’t take long before Jack was begging him for more, and Sawyer complied, caught up as he was in the feel of Jack’s whole body clenching and his voice going surprisingly deep, as if he brought up the need from down in his chest. Sawyer moved his mouth up and down Jack’s shaft as his hands gently massaged his balls, until Jack was pushing up with his hips, begging to be taken in all the way. Sawyer sucked him harder now, listening to his deep groans and feeling as though he himself would come soon if Jack didn’t. When Jack did finally gasp and shoot off in his mouth, Sawyer swallowed it down with relief.
Sitting up, Sawyer asked him, “Are you sure you want me inside you?”
Jack nodded, but he added, “I’ve just never…”
“Are you sure, then?”
Jack nodded resolutely, and when Sawyer turned away to finish undressing, he was once again afraid of this. That Jack would let him in so easily, and would let him do this, something that apparently he had never done or thought about doing. He had probably never been with a man, but he was here with Sawyer, and when he looked back at him, he was breathing slowly and making himself calm for Sawyer, making Sawyer calm too.
Sawyer turned him onto him stomach and told him exactly what he was doing as he did it. As his hands worked at opening him, Sawyer breathed against his back and neck, telling him to relax, the most important thing is to relax.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. “You tell me if I do.”
Jack replied, “Okay.”
Sawyer took his time entering Jack, remembering well his first time being penetrated. It could be an uncomfortable feeling at first, even when you were used to it, but Jack wasn’t. Sawyer just kept telling him to breathe and to release, and slowly, Jack accepted his cock deeper, deep enough for him to start thrusting. He didn’t pull out very far, just letting his hips rock into Jack’s body. He pulled his torso down until he was pressed into Jack’s back, and he tried to concentrate on the sound of his breathing and the million tiny noises he made that would tell Sawyer what to do, when to move. But when Jack finally began to thrust back a bit, Sawyer found that his hips were moving, and when Jack didn’t struggle against it or tell him to stop, he drove in deep, repeating it, that slow thrusting that felt so good, that let him watch Jack’s back, how it curved into his ass, where Sawyer could watch his cock sliding in and feel Jack’s body accepting.
Quickly, Jack realized that Sawyer wasn’t going to get off this way; he was going slow for Jack’s sake. So Jack asked him, begged him, to do what he needed to come, so he thrust faster and harder, his hands still smoothing at whatever of Jack’s muscles were under them and his voice still telling Jack to just stay relaxed, just let me fill you, you feel so good, let me in, God, so good. Before he knew it, he was coming hard and Jack was wincing as he pulled out.
It shouldn’t have surprised him, but Jack rolled over and drew Sawyer back against him, into his arms. Sawyer mumbled, “You’ll be sore tomorrow. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.”
“How did it feel?”
“Strange. Then so full and heavy with your whole body on top of me.”
“I mean, did it feel good?”
There was a pause before Jack said simply, “Yes. Good.”
Sawyer lay there pulled to Jack’s chest, and he was struck by the magnitude of what he’d started here. This was something enormous. It didn’t seem to scare Jack, and that was the most frightening thing of all. Jack held him close but not as if he had to keep him. Jack had no idea how close he was to running now; he seemed to have more faith than he did, that stupid stubborn faith of a born healer.
Breathing against his neck, kissing it, Jack said, “Sawyer, I don’t know what this means.”
“Well, neither do I,” he replied.
“You’re not-“
“Whatever you’re thinking, no. I’m not. From here on out, I’m not. Can you live with that?”
“It doesn’t look like I have a choice.”
“No. I don’t guess I really did either.”
A few minutes later, Jack got up, reaching down to pull Sawyer from the ground with a sure grip and a strong pull with all his body weight. After they put back on their dirty and stained clothes, Sawyer followed Jack back to the hatch, almost seeing the lines as they came back into his face. If he thought he was protective of Jack before, this was a whole new level of both worry and faith. He had wanted to prove that Jack needed him-and he had-but what he’d made even clearer was how badly he needed Jack.
He followed him through the jungle cautiously, but close. Always close now, because there was no other way for it to be.