Chapter 25 - When Sawyer Met Jack
So, for Valentine's Day, we go back about a year, to the day 'Jack' and 'Sawyer' were formally introduced at Freeman's.
This chapter is another one written for one of our co-conspirator's birthdays.
Back to Chapter 24
Well I can't explain why it's not enough,
'Cause I gave it all to you.
And if you leave me now,
oh just leave me now.
Its the better thing to do,
Its time to surrender,
Its been too long pretending.
There's no use in trying,
When the pieces don't fit any more,
Pieces don't fit here any more.
'Pieces Don't Fit Anymore' James Morrison
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jG6TS2huZpI
The day 'Sawyer' was introduced to 'Dr Jack' at Freeman's, he wondered at first if the man even recognized him. The face was so impassive, it was hard to tell. Sawyer recognized Jack--at least, the man he remembered as 'Matt'--though. He didn't allow that to show on his face, but inside his heart was hammering as he went back to his card game. He barely dared to sneak a look at the other man until the game was over and he could legitimately leave the table. Jack was by now propping up the bar as if he owned it, downing what had to be further along than just his second tumbler of Jack Daniels.
"See where they got the name," Sawyer murmured, not looking at Jack as he slid onto the barstool nearby and raised his eyebrows at Billy for his own drink.
"Well, it'll do," Jack muttered, equally as quietly and without looking either, as he tossed back the rest of the glass.
Billy plonked down Sawyer's glass and smirked at him before offering the doctor another shot in his now empty tumbler. Jack nodded and Billy poured, then wiped off the edge of the bottle and returned to the other end of the bar to pick up the conversation he'd been having with Liv before Sawyer pulled up a seat.
"Nothing's changed then," Sawyer offered, sipping at his whiskey.
"Guess not," Jack tossed back, allowing a quick glance out of the corner of his eye before downing that glass too and heaving himself off his seat.
When 'Sawyer' pulled himself up onto the barstool next to him, it took all of Jack's remaining willpower not to snort. He obviously didn't remember, then. Towards the end of their relationship, when things were especially strained and alcohol had become an 'issue', Josh had almost subconsciously begun to call him Jack. It had only happened a few times, but it was enough that when the time came for him to move on, it only seemed fitting that he adopt it for himself.
Jack had traveled the entire country trying to escape this man. Years had passed since they had last seen each other. Things had changed, more so than even Jack was willing to admit. He had found his niche in the world, which he couldn't say for the boy he had been. Then he had been a shining new light on the field of medicine. Now he traveled from city to city, curing whores of the pox and helping out young girls in trouble. Every now and then he would patch up criminals who had been injured and because of their circumstances were unable to go to the hospital....This fit him better, he was sure.
He had also learned that his tastes in partners had changed dramatically. After he had left Josh, he had sworn off sex altogether. Still, he rarely indulged. He had probably only taken, on average, a lover a year. For a while, whenever he was particularly lonely, he had found someone who reminded him of his former lover. Then, on a job, he'd had the shock of his life when he had believed he was going to be doing a routine check up on a female whore and the girl had promptly lifted her skirt to reveal her filling cock. Jack had never even heard of anything like it, and it had filled him with so much lust, as well as a feeling of rightness. She had fucked him that night, and the next morning the doctor had tried his hand at topping. Since then, whenever he found one of those exotic lady-boys, it was a temptation hard to resist. Jack knew there was one at Freeman's, but he had yet to feel the pull to make a booking with him. Her.
Yet still, every day he regretted no longer being with Josh. He had loved him as he had never loved before, and never would again.
Sawyer looked down, pretending to study his glass as he discretely watched the man totter off out the door. Sniffing lightly as he brought his head up again, Sawyer took his time finishing his drink, lighting up a cigar along the way and puffing on it as he turned to survey the occupants of the other saloon.
No Naveen for him tonight, as the Dom had taken another client upstairs before Sawyer had finished his card game. One who would doubtless keep the East Indian busy for longer than Sawyer was prepared to wait. Naveen had been at the bar briefly before that when Marton introduced Sawyer to Jack, eyes flicking across when he thought Sawyer wasn't watching, but Sawyer noticed. And this despite his very careful southern gentleman act as he pretended not to know the man Freeman's proprietor was introducing as the new doctor for the establishment.
Gazing around the parlour, Sawyer noticed Boone smirking at him evilly as if he thought Sawyer was wishing he were the one Naveen was flogging. Bitch! Sawyer had no time for the boy who thought he was too much of a lady to use his cock for the purpose God gave it to him.
The other whores were obviously occupied already, as he couldn't see any of them beyond Liv still chatting up Billy behind him and the evil boy-bitch still giving him the come-on lips as if he'd change his mind now there was no one else in sight.
Sawyer huffed, and then drained his glass before standing up slowly. Dammit, if they were here now, he'd have gladly gone with Craig or... what was that other new boy called? Anything to take his mind off the man who'd stumbled out the door.
Removing the cigar from his mouth, Sawyer licked his lips and winked at Ian whilst rubbing a hand across his crotch meaningfully. The boy glanced in the direction of his hand and licked his own lips. Sawyer huffed again, clamping the cigar back in his mouth, and turned on his heel to stride out of the place. He hoped Boone remembered the one time he'd let the kid suck his dick with fondness,'cause he sure as hell wasn't getting the chance again any time soon. It wasn't right to deny your masculinity like that boy did. How could he even think Sawyer was interested in fucking him? Might as well fuck one of Marg's girls if he wasn't allowed to touch the whore's cock.
Sniffing as he hit the warm night air, Sawyer decided he might as well head home for a change. It was disconcerting enough to have run into Matt--Jack--in there at Freeman's of all places, here in San Francisco after all this time, and if there wasn't anyone to screw to take his mind off the memories it brought up, he'd be better off looking for that bottle he had by the bed for just such emergencies. At least that way, if he passed out, he was already in his own place and he could just sleep it off rather than have someone help him to a room upstairs at Freeman's and have them speculate publicly on why he was drinking more than usual.
Once in his room, Sawyer didn't expect to be disturbed. He'd looked in on the landlady on his way up and she'd nodded at his request to be left alone. The last thing he needed was her bringing up a hot cocoa or clean towels or any number of other excuses she found to nosey into his business, or his pants, as he'd begun to think she might be considering.
The knock on the door startled him as he poured himself a large tumbler of cheap whiskey and he nearly overflowed the glass. Swearing as he placed the bottle on the table, he licked the excess liquid off his thumb and headed to the door, shaking his head.
"I thought I asked..." Sawyer stopped dead before he'd even properly begun the diatribe to the landlady as he realized who it was in his doorway.
Certainly not his landlady.
Matthew.
Or Dr. Jack as he was now calling himself.
Sawyer's heart was threatening to choke him now. He'd managed somehow before at Freeman's to maintain the façade of calm during the ordeal of being faced with his former lover so unexpectedly, but this... the man himself right here, right in front of him, close enough that Josh could have reached out and kissed him. This was a little different.
Matt didn't look as young as he had when Josh last saw him. The drink had changed him, although he was still handsome; still the man Josh had loved so intensely all those years ago. This was the man he couldn't forget, although he tried desperately to do so at every turn of a card as he played his stakes; every flicker of emotion across another man's face as he kissed them or sucked their cocks; every pulse of warm come inside his body as he was fucked into oblivion; and every lash across his back as he was flogged to a heated heaven that made his soul roar and beg for more.
None of those things truly made Josh forget.
Holding back his urgent need to touch the unshaven cheeks, kiss the soft lips and cling to the strong body, Sawyer took a step backward, although he knew the shock of this meeting must have already shown on his face.
"What do you want?" he asked warily, schooling his face into an expression he hoped was as far away as possible from the love he still felt.
After Jack left Freeman's, he couldn't make himself walk away thinking that he would never see Josh again. The doctor wasn't surprised when the man had emerged not five minutes later. As quietly as possible, he had followed 'Sawyer' to his rented room. He debated knocking, but the drink had eventually overrun his better judgement.
When Josh--no, Sawyer--had finally answered, Jack couldn't think of a word to say. He just stood there, his eyes sad as he watched the walls slam back up around his former love.
Sawyer glanced out into the hall past Jack when the man didn't answer him, but no-one seemed to be about, not even his nosey landlady. The last thing Sawyer wanted was for people to see Jack here and there was no telling what either of them was likely to say or do, so privacy was the best option.
"You'd better come in, I suppose," he finally offered, stepping back so the man could do just that.
He shut the door behind the doctor and as he took his arm back, he brushed against Jack's hand accidentally. Swallowing deeply at the tingle that ran through him, Sawyer's immediate urge to press the man against the wall and kiss him to within an inch of his life was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to resist.
"Did you know I was in San Francisco?" he had to ask, gesturing towards the two chairs by the small wooden table at one side of the room.
Jack's hand went to cover the patch of skin seemingly scalded by his ex-lover's touch. Josh's hair was a bit longer since the last time they had seen each other, to his chin now instead of his ears, and he too was growing scruff on his face. It was beautiful on him, making him appear a man fully in control of himself.
His eyes fell on the bedside table, and the over-filled tumbler of whiskey sitting there by an open bottle. Jack didn't wait for permission or denial from Sawyer, moving instead around the other man and his furniture so he could take the glass in hand.
Sitting on the bed, his hand shockingly steady as it held its prize, he locked eyes with Sawyer. "I saw the Bay today, and the ocean." Another non sequitur, yet it was important for him to say somehow . "Last ocean I saw was in Boston." Jack shrugged in a slow roll of shoulders. "I had no idea."
As Jack ignored his question at first and headed for the drink on the table, Sawyer frowned. It deepened even more when the man ignored the chairs and sat instead on the bed.
Sawyer wasn't quite sure what to do with himself now. By rights he should sit on one of the chairs as he'd intended for Jack to do, but for some reason he couldn't stop himself taking a step towards the bed and Jack instead of finding a seat. He stopped abruptly as Jack spoke again.
The façade Sawyer had tried to keep in place almost crumbled at the second sentence, but he swallowed hard, holding himself together by an extremely thin thread.
"So, what..." he had to clear his throat again, unable to finish the sentence, and for want of something to do, Sawyer grabbed the whiskey bottle and reached to the nearby shelf to retrieve another glass. His back to Jack, he poured himself a new glassful, hands shaking more than the doctor's apparently were. "What brings you here, then?" he finally got out, returning the bottle to the table, slowly replacing the cap and taking a long swallow of the booze before turning back to Jack.
He needed to sit down.
As disconcerted as he was by his ex-lover's presence, he still managed to wonder what Jack expected to happen by his coming here. Realising he looked ridiculous standing in his own space as if he was the interloper, Sawyer still couldn't decide whether he should seat himself in a chair or try to perturb Jack by sitting beside him on the bed.
Dithering for too long, he looked into his whiskey glass as if he could divine the correct answer in the amber liquid.
Jack took several long drinks from his glass, emptying half of it. He had no idea what to tell Jo--Sawyer. He himself wasn't even sure why he was there. After several long moments of being locked in his own thoughts, Jack took another drink.
"San Francisco is beautiful, isn't it? So much younger and fresher than anything on the East." He scratched at the stubble growing on his neck. "I came here to get away. Kept moving west, farther and farther away..." Away from Josh, away from the past, away from the things that hurt him. "Never ever thought I'd see you again."
Finally, the reason he was there became clear, and he glanced up to meet Sawyer's eyes, before looking once more to his glass. "Can't help but think there's a reason, that after so many years we'd be pushed together again..."
Sawyer watched Jack down most of the whiskey in a very short time, taking gulps occasionally from his own glass as if to keep up, but knowing he'd never manage it. Sawyer probably drank to excess too--he knew this--but he was nowhere near Jack's league, and there were extended times when he left the bottle alone, which he doubted Jack could say. Seeing Jack drinking here and now though, and feeling so wound up himself over running into his old lover and old feelings trying their damnedest to surface against his will, he needed the booze or he'd never get through it.
"I like it," he put in when Jack mentioned how attractive San Francisco was, purposely ignoring any other thing the man was trying to allude to. Swallowing another substantial amount of the drink at Jack's explanation of why he was here, Sawyer almost choked at the doctor's last words. "No, you're wrong," he scowled, "There's no reason. Whatever we had is long gone."
Dumping his glass on the table, Sawyer ran a hand through his hair and paced away from Jack, heart thumping. He didn't feel the same way about Matt any more; he couldn't. Too much time had passed and Jack had evidently not changed. Sawyer, however, had changed. He was no longer the naive boy who had loved Matt. He had found himself a place in this town and he was comfortable and happy.
Most of the time.
Gripping the edges of one of the narrow windows in his room, he gazed blindly out into the darkness. This was wrong, no matter what his body was screaming at him.
"Perhaps you'd better go," he muttered, not turning from the window.
Memories flashed behind Jack's eyes of their last day together. Things had been tough for a while, but he still hadn't expected that what they had would end. Fights didn't kill love. Yet still, somehow, their perfect world had come to an end.
"No." His voice was quiet but sure.
Finishing off his glass of whiskey, he stood, setting the empty tumbler next to Sawyer's. Moving slowly, Jack pressed the palms of his hands against his old lover's shoulder blades, and laid his cheek to rest against the base of his neck.
"It's not over, for me. You haunt my steps... every move I make, is affected by you. I... I'd do anything to make things right again. I still..." He trailed off, unsure of the reaction those words would get.
Sawyer so hadn't expected Jack to attempt to touch him that he'd barely registered the man moving across the room. After the strength of Jack's denial, he should have expected it, but he hadn't. The sensation of having the man he had loved so deeply pressing up against him almost wore him down and the words he spoke caused a tightness in Sawyer's chest that he hadn't expected. Swallowing hard, Josh closed his eyes tightly, trying to convince himself to move away.
"Don't say things you don't... mean," he struggled to get out, voice cracking, "I can't... I can't..."
Jack attempted to shake his head, but it came across more as him rubbing his forehead back and forth across the width of Sawyer's neck.
"Wouldn't lie to you, not ever." Little wisps of blonde hair tickled his nose, which lead Jack to bury his face deeper into the warmth of the gambler's neck. He pressed a kiss there, and sighed.
"Doesn't this feel right to you?" One arm wound around Sawyer, forming a loose hug. "I can't leave, not when going out there would mean I'd probably never see you again." They would never be at Freeman's together; Jack himself would probably only be there once a month and on emergencies. And Sawyer was there for the game. Whenever that moved on, so would he.
The touches across Sawyer's back and neck sent a thrill through him he couldn't fight, although he wasn't sure he could believe the words. Way back when, Jack--Matt then--had lied to him about the booze at the very least, if nothing else.
"Right?" He finally managed to question, "I'm not sure anything will ever feel right to me any more. And maybe it would be better if we didn't see each other ever again."
Straightening up, he tried to shake Jack off as he turned, but the man wasn't letting him go so easily, and Sawyer found himself eye to eye with Jack. This close, he was unable to stop himself somehow, and almost without thinking he pressed his lips to Jack's, thrusting his tongue inside the other man's mouth as he backed him towards the bed.
Jack's mood had shifted in the past few moments. His whole demeanor had become slow, deliberate. He took his time, spending most of it within his own thoughts. When Sawyer spoke again, not realizing he was repeating himself, he said, "No, I had to see you again. I had to. There had to be a reason we were brought--"
It hadn't exactly registered in his mind that Sawyer had turned, until his lips were taken in a brutal kiss. He let out a choked moan, his own tongue wrapping around the one invading his mouth. Oh, that was Josh. He still tasted the same, even after so long. And yet now he tasted of whiskey as well, which just made it all the better.
When his knees hit against the mattress, Jack became dead weight in Sawyer's arms. The bed came rushing up to meet him, and he landed with a soft 'thud'. Lips continued to assault his, and he did his best to keep up. His cock began to swell, and he rolled his hips up in hopes of finding an answering hardness.
Sawyer wasn't sure this was anywhere near right, but at Jack's reaction to the kiss he gave up on thinking altogether and simply allowed himself to appreciate the sensations without contemplating what they meant to him; that this was Matt, back in his arms after so long.
It felt good and Sawyer knew how to take advantage of that, no matter what he would or wouldn't have done had he thought about Matt. The hips pushing upward had him grinding his own downward and then he was tugging at clothes, undoing buttons and pushing clothes out of his way, desperate to find naked skin with a mouth that had been starved of the taste of male flesh for far too long in his opinion.
As Sawyer pulled at his clothes, Jack reached out to tear at the other man's. His fingers, though, felt thick and ineffective as he tried to unbutton his ex-lover's shirt. He was able to manage it eventually, so the shirt hung open and pulled free from his trousers.
Hands stroking over the blond's pectorals, Jack noted how the chest beneath his hands had changed in the years since they had last been together. Like the rest of him, it had transformed from handsome boyishness to the settled confidence of a man. It looked good, very good.
His fingers trailed down over the flat of his abdomen, and over to his hip. He sighed as their lips parted once more, and he tipped his head back so his throat was bared. Jack's hand then finally made it under the waistband of Josh's pants, and he pulled the younger man close to him. A small moan escaped his throat at the sensation, and he paused for one moment as he thought he felt some raised flesh on the man's back. Pushing that thought aside, he once again forced Sawyer's groin against his own.
Sawyer began sucking on Jack's neck harshly, interspersed with little bites as he was pulled in tight. The bared chest under him felt hot and damp, and Sawyer groaned throatily against Jack's Adam's apple as he rolled his hips into the hardness under him.
Tearing his mouth away, he gasped, "Get the rest of these off, now!" and pulled back enough to tear off his own shirt before going back to pull Jack's pants down and off in almost one motion. "Christ..." he breathed, running hands over Jack's stomach and eyeing the man's cock. He licked his lips at the vision laid out before him, desperate to have the pulsing length buried inside his mouth. But he couldn't do that, it would be too much like making love to Matt.
"Turn over," he instructed, standing up and shedding his pants as fast as he could, then moving to his dresser to find the pot of grease he kept there for the odd occasion when he found himself inviting someone back here.
Jack moaned loudly as his hard cock was released, and he reached down to take himself in hand. He hadn't been this turned on in years. Then again, no one had ever been able to give him as much pleasure as Josh did. His cock already leaked; he was so turned on that he was afraid he wouldn't be able to last long, even though they had barely started.
When Sawyer moved away, leaving only an order, Jack pushed himself up so he could watch that much-loved backside move away. Oh, oh!! His eyes widened as he took in the bruises, some newer than others, scattered across his ass and back. So he had felt something when he had touched Josh's backside a moment ago.
He rolled quickly, the lust still pounding through his veins warring with his new concern for the man he had given so much of his life to. He rested on his hands and knees, his head hanging as he panted harshly. Later. They would discuss it later. He'd convince Sawyer they really should run away together, if only to get the blond away from his tormentor.
He sensed Sawyer returning, the scent of his arousal strengthening as he neared. It made Jack's stomach do flip-flops, and he bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut. "Oh, god, fuck me, please!"
"No problem," Sawyer smirked, kneeling on the bed behind the perfect ass he wouldn't allow himself to think of as anything but an ass to fuck.
Dipping the fingers of one hand into the grease and scooping a little out, he stoppered the pot again and dropped it on the bed beside him as he stroked a little of the grease onto his cock. Sawyer placed his other hand on the small of Jack's back, his thumb rubbing small circles as if to soothe someone who had never done this before. Swallowing back the memory of a first time he really didn't need to be remembering right now, Sawyer ran fingers down Jack's crack and then pushed one inside experimentally.
Oh, so tight!
The sensation just against his finger was amazing, and Sawyer wondered how long it had been since Matt--no, Jack--had last done this. His cock pulsed with the thought of being one of the only men... He closed his eyes for a second, cutting off the thought by lifting his other hand from Jack's back and gripping himself with it, stroking the firm flesh until he groaned.
Jack shuddered, his eyes clamping shut. The rest of his body tensed as well as he tried to acclimate himself to the intrusion. It had been close to a year since the last time he had experienced this. Even the one finger inside him felt especially large. The sting faded quickly, aided by lust and drink. Letting out a shuddering breath, Jack relaxed around the digit. In the end, no matter who he claimed to be now, this was Josh. His old love wouldn't hurt him. This wasn't a dispassionate whore who only cared about getting it done and getting paid, or some drifter picked up in a bar too drunk to show finesse.
"O-okay, ready for 'nother one." Jack nodded, flicking a glance over his shoulder to meet the blond's gaze.
Sawyer was desperate to just shove his cock where his finger was by now, but at Matt's--no, Jack's, dammit!--shaky words asking for another digit, Sawyer let go of his erection and slipped the first finger out a little so he could slide in two this time. Swallowing nervously, he placed his spare hand back where it had been on Jack, rubbing gently and closing his eyes as he searched for the sweet spot inside the other man.
Jack gasped a little at the stretching and Sawyer flicked his fingers in a way he knew would cause intense pleasure and make his partner forget any discomfit.
"That's it, just relax now..." he murmured as Jack's muscles tightened around him as he repeated the maneuver. Moving in closer, he prepared to replace his fingers, sliding his other hand down to stroke over Jack's ass.
Jack whimpered, pushing back against the fingers invading him. They were pressing insistently at his prostate, that special gland deep inside of him that made him see stars. His channel pulsed around the invading fingers, and he relaxed with a moan.
When the fingers were removed, Jack put even more pressure against the hand resting on his backside. His elbows gave out, and his chest collapsed to the mattress. Jack's nipples rubbed against the embroidery on the quilt beneath him, and he cried out as his body bucked once, pressing his face into the blanket. His hips made small needy movements, so desperate he was to be filled.
When Jack collapsed down onto the mattress, Sawyer eased closer, his hand pressing down more firmly as he felt the man's tension increase against it. Slowly, he eased just the first inch or so of his cock into the waiting hole, breathing evenly and almost trembling in anticipation.
Moving both hands now to grip the slim hips under him, Sawyer slid his cock forward, pushing gradually inside until he was fully sheathed. It was oh-so-tight, so deliciously hot around him that Josh closed his eyes for a second, trying to remember when he had last felt anything so good.
"Okay?" he queried, opening his eyes and looking down the beautiful back that he'd once known so well, every mark and crease of it. Resisting the urge to caress it in any way, Sawyer kept his hands where they were and gave an experimental thrust deep into the velvety channel.
Matt's fingers scritched against the quilt, his nails catching on it. It felt so very good to be filled, he could barely contain himself. This was Josh, his Josh, inside of him once more. The shape felt so familiar, it was if it belonged there. Briefly, he wished he could see his ex-lover's face.
But then Josh gave one single thrust, and it scraped so perfectly along his prostate. "Oh... yes." Matt bit his lip, and his eyes screwed up tightly. No one ever, ever, made him feel this good. He was helplessly addicted. "More!"
Sawyer didn't answer in words; he simply began thrusting in earnest, his fingers digging into the hips firmly as he closed his eyes and sought images of anyone but Matt. Naveen swam before his eyes, but Sawyer had never fucked him and that image under him just wouldn't take hold. Several of Freeman's other whores came to mind, but most of them he'd only fucked once or twice and he found it difficult to keep their pictures inside his head too.
As his pleasure rose, Sawyer found the vision morphing back into familiar territory without him even concentrating, and he was so swept up in the whole experience of being buried inside this well-known space that he forgot to even push the image of his beautiful young Matt away. Without thought, Josh found his hands sliding down the man in front of him, seeking to make the memory real.
He groaned as his orgasm neared, and without opening his eyes, he reached around Matt, grasping his cock firmly and pumping it in time with his thrusts as he pressed himself down onto the other man's back, forcing his legs to spread and Matt's rear end to lower too. Josh's other hand slipped under Matt, fingertips skimming over a nipple as he moved it to hold the man tight to his chest as he breathed into the back of his neck.
It was all too much for Matt. No mere man could survive pleasure so intense. Josh was hitting all of his pleasure spots, the combined force making him cry aloud. His cock dripped steadily, and every thrust hit again and again on the spot that made him see stars. And he too was falling into the fantasy of forever ago. The stitching in the quilt beneath him almost felt familiar to his touch, and he could smell the scent of jasmine on the air, as if it wafted in from the Holloway's gardens.
"Gonna... oh, God..." Matt shuddered, letting out a hiss as he came. Liquid coated Josh's hand and the bedspread, and after another soft noise escaped his throat, he sagged in his lover's arms.
Josh came mere seconds after Matt, the feeling of the other man's seed against his hand altogether too much to resist as Matt shuddered into his climax. Josh gave a few final thrusts as the aftershocks rippled through him, and then he too collapsed, his sweat-soaked skin sticking to Matt's under him.
He could feel their duel heartbeats pounding fiercely and Josh kept his eyes closed, letting his breathing come back to normal and trying not to think about what he'd just done. Swallowing deeply, he couldn't help his mind from settling on the fact that he had just fucked the man he had left so very long ago, the one he had promised himself never to go near again. What a weak-willed shit he was. It was all for Matt that he had left; the only thought in his head at the time being that his lover would be so much better off without Josh to drag him down.
But what had happened in the intervening years? Jack was in no better state now than Matt had been when Josh had walked out the door that night in the rain. Was that why Sawyer had given in and fucked him now? Because it didn't matter? That no matter what the fuck Sawyer did, Jack wouldn't change? That he would continue to waste his potential, drowning himself in booze and stumbling through life like none of it mattered? The bastard! Didn't he realise what Josh had given up for him?
Angry now, Sawyer pulled away from Jack, barely holding his trembling in as he grabbed his trousers and pulled them on roughly before finding his glass and refilling it. He sat down heavily and took a swig from the glass, eyeing Jack dispassionately. He had to hold on to the anger now, or else he didn't know what might happen.
"Happy now?" He asked, raising an eyebrow as he gazed at the man on the bed, "Get what you wanted?"
Jack was sated and near unconscious when Josh forcibly removed himself. His brow furrowed, but for a moment he thought that possibly the man was just going to retrieve something for clean-up. But then he heard the sound of glass on glass, and smelt the fragrance of his favorite drink.
The words were what shocked him out of his stupor. After shooting the man a forlorn look, Jack rolled out of the bed. It took him a moment to steady himself, as his knees hadn't solidified after his earth-shattering orgasm. He stumbled across the room towards the blond. He barely made it before falling to his knees in front of Josh.
Matt's hands scrabbled at the other man's pants, his eyes for once fixed on his old lover, instead of the drink so close to his face. "No, want you, only ever wanted you... forever... It was made to be! Come with me, we can leave here... Go to Seattle. Things can be like they were back in Boston. Everything'll be perfect again. No one will ever find us, not brothers, not fathers, no one. We'll sneak away in the night... whoever... whoever's hurting you, will never see you again."
"Seattle?" Sawyer asked, incredulous as the naked man landed at his feet and started spouting some garbage about going away together and how it could be like it was before.
He put down the glass and pushed Jack's hands off his legs, his angry frown increasing despite the twisting feeling inside him.
Jack's final words registered suddenly.
"Hurting me? What d'ya mean, hurting me? No-one's hurting me," he huffed, his gaze confused.
Jack's eyes darkened, and his head drooped. It saddened him to find out just how in denial Sawyer was. Reaching again for his old lover, this time he traced his fingers over a bare hip, where several dark lash marks peaked out. "These marks... cover your backside. Your wrists..." His hands traveled there next, ghosting over angry red lines. "...ligature marks."
Removing his hands, Jack shifted his gaze once more to meet Sawyer's. "I would assume that you had a gambling debt? Or you got caught fucking someone you shouldn't have... again?" Jack's voice dropped at the last word, remembering how things had been when their relationship started going downhill.
Frowning as the other man touched him again, Sawyer couldn't help the shiver that ran through him at the feeling it produced. He genuinely had forgotten the marks still on him from recent encounters with Naveen... and another situation he'd foolishly gotten himself into while out trolling the rougher places a couple of nights ago. Naveen was rough on him, true enough, but the man was careful about marking his skin too badly, and the worst of the bruises and the lines around his wrist were not his usual Dom's work. Not that Sawyer was about to tell Jack any of this.
Jack's words just made Sawyer angrier though. What right did the man have to accuse him of anything? He hadn't been caught in circumstances like Jack was implying since... since that one damned time when things had gone from bad to worse between them. He wasn't about to apologise for that again now.
"It's none of your goddamned business, Jack," Sawyer growled, "and I think it's time you left. Don't imagine I'm thinking of picking up with you where we left off just 'cause I fucked you tonight. It'd never work."
Sawyer stood up and moved away from Jack, hitching his pants up properly and standing at the window once more, gazing out at the night with annoyance. Why in fuck did Jack think he had to save Sawyer? Matt had never been able to save Josh, so why should this be any different? Swallowing harshly, he tossed back over his shoulder, "Just leave, dammit. And don't you dare tell anyone at Freeman's about any of this--what we just did or what we had before. I'll just deny it."
Jack shook his head, his eyes growing stormy as he watched Sawyer's walls come slamming back up. What was he thinking, denying them both like this? This, each other, was what they both needed. Things always had been better when they were together. Why didn't Josh understand that?
"No! Just... no! You can't do this to us, Josh! To yourself! I'm trying to help you, here. We could be a pair again." Jack forced himself to his feet, moving so he stood behind his old flame. "Just listen to reason, Sawyer! We're so much stronger together. Just do it; run away with me!"
"What the fuck...?" Sawyer swung around, his green eyes blazing, "Help me? You can't help me, Jack. And I ran away twice before, remember? Neither of those times seemed to help me any. Look where I am, dammit!"
He gestured roughly, indicating the room they were in. How far removed from his youth could this be? Couldn't Matt see how low he'd sunk? How much more running away was there to be done?
Suddenly a vision of his mother's sick room came to Josh, the frail, beautiful woman smiling her approval at the two handsome young men before her, and then his father's angry face swam across his vision, the way it had looked the day it had all fallen to pieces for the first time.
Sawyer swallowed hard, maintaining his anger so that he wouldn't fall apart. His heart pounded noisily in his ears and he took a threatening step forward, one fist tightening. He was shaking, but he hoped Jack believed it was because he was so furious, rather than because of the swirling confusion tightening around his heart.
"Get your fucking clothes on and leave. Just leave. We both know what happens when..." and he couldn't go on. Josh didn't want to remember when things had gotten really bad between them, but it was the only way he could keep his fury at the surface and stop himself from falling at Matt's feet, begging his forgiveness.
Jack didn't want to respond to the comments about Josh's lodgings. They were much finer than the room the doctor had procured for himself. And to be in the city, it was more than many could ask for, especially those as unemployed as Sawyer was. True, it was no fine plantation, and was not fitted to who Josh had been before Matt had met him, but it was nonetheless a nice room. Then again, it wasn't the cozy place they had shared in Boston.
"Are you saying you honestly wish you were still back under your father's rule, fucking slave boys when his eyes were turned away? You were miserable there! Always hiding..." He shook with rage barely contained.
Then when Sawyer brought up his anger, and the trouble he had controlling it, Jack's hand caught the other man's bicep. "Don't say a word, Sawyer. That was a long time ago. I don't... do that any longer."
Sawyer shook his head. "I'm not sayin' that at all," he growled, "I just... what my life could have been... what my father thought it should be... Dammit, Matt, you know what he wanted for me and it sure as hell wasn't this. We could have had something... but nothing worked after you started drinking."
Tensing as Jack caught his arm, Sawyer huffed angrily, "And your... what you did then... you might not do that any more, but what the fuck have you got here? Just what do you think you can offer me that's any better than this, anyway?"
Sawyer's eyes swung around the room and then landed back on Jack's face, his eyes lit with something he was no longer sure was one hundred percent anger, although he didn't relax any yet, his arm still caught in Jack's fist.
Jack's fingers tightened on Sawyer's arm, and the line in his forehead deepened. "We did have something, Josh. We had six years of something. We could have still had something, if you hadn't run out just when I needed you the most." Matt had told himself so many times, that had only Josh stuck around and really tried to help him, then he could have left the drinking behind.
Growing desperate once more, Jack shook his old flame's arm a few times. "What isn't better than this? It would be you and I, together again. I... I could try to stop drinking if you want, just as long as it was us, again." His face softened, "I gave you myself a long time ago."
Sawyer's scowl grew stronger and he tried to pull away from the insistent hand on his arm, his whole body tense with a mixture of anger and whatever it was that was twisting his gut so painfully.
"Ran out when you needed me the most? I..." He hadn't run out on Matt, not like that, anyway, "...left because you wouldn't let me help you! And you ran out on me long before that, every time you ran and hid inside a damned bottle. Where in hell were you when I needed you most? Passed out, of course, drunk as a goddamned skunk. Matt, we might have had something once, but that disappeared when you..." and he couldn't say it, couldn't say how bad it had gotten. He gulped noisily and went on, "And what would make this time any different anyway? I could try to stop drinking... That's just it, isn't it? Try. You're not prepared to just stop. Fuck, man, I would have given it up too, if it would help any. In fact I did, but I doubt you even noticed, you were so damned drunk most of the time, you barely cared if I was there or not, let alone how much I was or wasn't drinking to help you get off the stuff."
Sawyer was shaking hard now, Jack's hand still gripping him so tightly he was sure he'd have a bruise later, but he couldn't stop the viciously honest words he'd never managed to utter quite this way before. "You were barely in a fit state to do anything by the end, why else do you think I..." and he swallowed abruptly, "...did what I did? I never got what I needed from you any more and whatever you did offer was hardly... Jesus!" He tore his arm away at last, turning his back and running a shaky hand through unruly hair. "Why the fuck d'ya think I look for it now," he growled so lowly that he wasn't even sure if the other man heard the last bit.
Jack snarled, his nails now biting into his palm. He had visions of taking Sawyer by the hair, and slamming his head through the window. The man was a right bastard for bringing that up. "How dare you blame me for that! You were the one who decided to go out and get your kicks elsewhere! It was your choice, not mine! How was I supposed to miss you when you were never around?" Screwing his eyes shut, he shouted, "Look at me when I talk to you, damnit!!"
Sawyer was still shaking, and he really didn't want to look at Jack, but the anger that was spat at him so loudly shocked him into turning. The guilt that ran through him at what he had done all that time ago, combined with the expression on Jack's face, made him back up a step and he wondered for a moment if his ex-lover was going to hit him.
Again.
Sawyer was by no means weak nor unable to defend himself, but the physical direction their relationship had taken when Jack was at his worst with the drinking had so surprised him--and, it had to be said, frightened him somehow--that he had taken the brunt of it without retaliation at first. That in it's turn had shamed him and, his face flushing slightly at the memory, excited him in a strange way; a way he had tried not to think about as something he needed to recreate in his subsequent sexual encounters.
When he had finally been so angered that he had actually fought back, the guilt at hurting Matt both with his fists and in dragging him into the life in the first place, not to mention the situations he found himself in as their relationship disintegrated, had made it impossible for them to continue as they had.
"Why, what you gonna do if I don't? Hit me?" he snarled, anger darkening his eyes once more.
Jack growled, his hands impacting with Josh's shoulders and shoving the other man roughly against the wall. Jack leaned forward, his face inches from his lover's. "You bastard, you fucking bastard! I won't hit you, but I damn well should! I gave up my life for you, I did everything I could to make things good for you! You knew I wasn't supposed to--that he--" The fact that Jack's own father was an abusive drunk had been enough to keep the doctor from drinking for years. "I had never had a drop before you, not one! I'd barely touched another man! Look at me now!" The doctor shoved his old flame against the wall once more. "All my patients are whores or addicts! There are times when I go without food so I don't run out of whiskey!" Images of the years without Josh flashed before his eyes, how hard things had been at times... "Passed out on the streets... Only comfort I got the few times I found a whore willing to let me suck her cock." He trailed off, each item he listed coming out quieter and quieter.
Jack's grasp tightened, one hand on either side of the nape of Sawyer's neck. He swayed, his eyes dark and pained. "I hope you rot in hell."
Sawyer just looked at Jack as he railed, his anger still simmering as he listened. Matt had given up a lot, but so had Josh. And then, when it all fell apart... so it had been rough out there, but whose fault was that? And it wasn't as if it had been a bed of roses for Sawyer either. Josh had left him because he was only dragging Matt down more; he certainly hadn't made it any easier for the man to get past the drinking issue, that was for sure. Why Jack couldn't see that, Sawyer didn't know. He wasn't supposed to end up worse off without Josh, but... surely he only had himself to blame if he did.
The last words registered as odd and Sawyer furrowed his brows in confusion. Her cock? His mind went back to Boone and he briefly wondered if Jack had been with the boy who seemed so intent on acting like a girl. Surely not? What they'd had together back then had been so different from anything Jack could get with a boy--girl--or whatever Ian actually thought he was, it was hard to think of the doctor doing what he was saying... but then, a lot of water had gone under the bridge since then.
"Her cock? Her cock?" He repeated, "Jesus, Jack, how low have you sunk? And if you think that be-ribboned boy with the pretty eyes at Freeman's is gonna let you do that, then you are sadly mistaken. He thinks his cock is a sad waste of time and would probably rather have you cut it off. Come to think of it, why don't you offer to do just that?" he spat, "And maybe he'd suck yours in gratitude! Now get your fucking hands off me, 'cause I can promise you, I ain't gonna sit back and take it today."
Sawyer didn't move, but the red-hot fury he felt inside must surely have been showing in his eyes.
Jack frowned as he thought over the new information Sawyer had given him about Ian. The boy-girl was beautiful, more stunning than any person he'd ever seen before. The doctor had heard he was prone to pranks, however, and so he tended to shy away as he knew he was an easy target. Yet that had never stopped him from watching Ian from afar, in the short time he'd been in San Francisco.
In all of his travels, Jack had never met a boy who wished to be and lived as a woman. He hadn't even known that anyone like that had existed. It made the boy-girl all the more fascinating. Matt had always wanted a lover who was part man, and part woman. All the cross dressers he had met in his life had been mostly male, practically forcing their cocks on Jack. They'd assumed that's what he had wanted. If Ian could make him feel something, then his cock was incidental.
He removed his hands, his eyes focusing on Sawyer once more. "Just because you were my first, that I spent years taking your cock, doesn't mean that that's what I always wanted. Maybe I wanted the gentleness of a woman, even if the body didn't match! But I love--d... you, and so it was enough." He knew that if there was one area in which he had excelled and grown, it was that. Knowing what he wanted in a relationship, especially ones that only lasted an hour.
"Maybe I should go. I apparently have a service to offer one of my patients." It was then that he was struck by the fact he was painfully naked. He snarled half-heartedly towards Sawyer, and moved towards his scattered clothing.
Sawyer stayed where he was as Jack let go, almost collapsing against the wall at the implication of Jack's words.
Just because... I spent years taking your cock, doesn't mean that that's what I always wanted.
He'd wanted something else? But Matt had never shown any interest in doing things the other way when they'd been together, despite the times Josh had tried to suggest it.
Maybe I wanted the gentleness of a woman
Maybe that said it all. Josh had been, as he was so painfully made aware again now, Matt's first proper lover of either sex, and maybe... maybe Josh was to blame for Matt's confusion because of it. Sawyer closed his eyes, barely hearing the rest of what Jack said now as he felt the guilt wash through him once more. Maybe if Josh hadn't seduced Matt that day by the river, hadn’t insisted on taking it further in the nights that followed over the next while, maybe, just maybe, Matt would have left the plantation house innocent of what two men could do and found himself a proper woman.
A proper woman with all her gentleness and soft curves; one with whom he could safely have an open relationship and eventually marry; have several small versions of Matt and live happily ever after behind a safe white picket fence with; practising medicine to other similar families and going to church on Sundays. He'd have been safe from the knowledge of what sick, depraved men like Josh did behind closed bedroom doors of rich plantation houses while their mothers lay dying on silk counterpanes in the next room.
Opening his eyes again, Sawyer said none of this; in fact said nothing at all as he watched Jack dress and turn towards him one last time. A shiver ran through him at the coldness in the familiar hazel eyes and he had to look away.
Quite clearly, Matt had never wanted what Josh had offered. Josh had seduced him and corrupted him and Matt thought he was in love with Josh because he knew no better. And that had ruined everything for the promising young doctor to the point where this was all he had left. No wonder he'd tried to get Sawyer to run away with him. It wasn't love that bound them. It was the corruption of all that was good and kind and loving that did.
"Just go," Sawyer said wearily, dropping his eyes but not moving.
Jack began to pull on his pants, but quickly admitted defeat and the fact he needed to sit to get them over his legs. He ignored Sawyer as he did so, in hopes of bypassing any embarrassment over the move. He stood, shoving his feet into his shoes as he tugged his shirt on, and under his lashes looked in Sawyer's direction. The guilt and emotional exhaustion were easy to spot after knowing Josh so long, but the doctor couldn't understand why it was he would feel that way. There was nothing to be guilty of.
Finally he felt presentable enough, and as he put on his jacket, he said with conviction, "Anytime you ever want me, or need me, you know where to find me. I will be there. For you. Anytime."
Sawyer's eyes flicked up at the words, surprise evident in his look, but he didn't reply. He couldn't understand why Jack should offer such a thing, but somehow he was grateful. It was almost a relief to know the doctor didn't appear to blame him quite as much as he blamed himself, no matter how much he should do. He wanted to say he'd be there for Jack too, but somehow he couldn't make the words come out. Even though it was true.
He stayed where he was, back to the wall and eyes to the floor, waiting for Jack to leave.
The sting of rejection hit Jack strongly once more. He isn't sure what he was expecting; if all of a sudden Josh would call him back into his arms after he had said that. That seeing him actually leaving would shock Sawyer into action. But no, he really was going to let him go. And for all he knew, this would be the last time they'd see each other. Sawyer could be gone with the wind in the morning, especially if he had nothing keeping him here.
Pausing at the door, he looked back at his first and only love. When it became more than obvious that Sawyer wasn't going to say anything, Jack nodded and let himself out. Afraid he was going to collapse right outside the door, he forced himself to put one foot in front of the other until he found himself standing outside of a bar. He definitely deserved a drink.
Sawyer kept it all in until Jack had closed the door. At that point, he heaved out a sobbing sigh and moved to the window to watch the man walk away. Creasing his brow to hold back whatever it was that wanted to escape, he watched the doctor disappear into the darkness.
It could never be the same as it was; not now, no matter how much they appeared to still feel for each other.
Once Jack had vanished completely, Sawyer turned, his anger rising once more. He wouldn't cry, dammit! He picked up the nearest object, one of the empty glasses and threw it hard across the room. It splintered into many tiny pieces as it fell to the floor, echoing the feeling inside Sawyer's chest.
"Damn him!"
Sawyer reached for the other glass, filling it to the brim and downing the contents before refilling it once more. Maybe if he drank the rest of the bottle, he would just pass out and forget this whole sorry night.
Word Count: ~ 9559
Stay tuned to see who will pay the Price of Love next week
This chapter is another one written for one of our co-conspirator's birthdays.
Back to Chapter 24
Well I can't explain why it's not enough,
'Cause I gave it all to you.
And if you leave me now,
oh just leave me now.
Its the better thing to do,
Its time to surrender,
Its been too long pretending.
There's no use in trying,
When the pieces don't fit any more,
Pieces don't fit here any more.
'Pieces Don't Fit Anymore' James Morrison
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jG6TS2huZpI
The day 'Sawyer' was introduced to 'Dr Jack' at Freeman's, he wondered at first if the man even recognized him. The face was so impassive, it was hard to tell. Sawyer recognized Jack--at least, the man he remembered as 'Matt'--though. He didn't allow that to show on his face, but inside his heart was hammering as he went back to his card game. He barely dared to sneak a look at the other man until the game was over and he could legitimately leave the table. Jack was by now propping up the bar as if he owned it, downing what had to be further along than just his second tumbler of Jack Daniels.
"See where they got the name," Sawyer murmured, not looking at Jack as he slid onto the barstool nearby and raised his eyebrows at Billy for his own drink.
"Well, it'll do," Jack muttered, equally as quietly and without looking either, as he tossed back the rest of the glass.
Billy plonked down Sawyer's glass and smirked at him before offering the doctor another shot in his now empty tumbler. Jack nodded and Billy poured, then wiped off the edge of the bottle and returned to the other end of the bar to pick up the conversation he'd been having with Liv before Sawyer pulled up a seat.
"Nothing's changed then," Sawyer offered, sipping at his whiskey.
"Guess not," Jack tossed back, allowing a quick glance out of the corner of his eye before downing that glass too and heaving himself off his seat.
When 'Sawyer' pulled himself up onto the barstool next to him, it took all of Jack's remaining willpower not to snort. He obviously didn't remember, then. Towards the end of their relationship, when things were especially strained and alcohol had become an 'issue', Josh had almost subconsciously begun to call him Jack. It had only happened a few times, but it was enough that when the time came for him to move on, it only seemed fitting that he adopt it for himself.
Jack had traveled the entire country trying to escape this man. Years had passed since they had last seen each other. Things had changed, more so than even Jack was willing to admit. He had found his niche in the world, which he couldn't say for the boy he had been. Then he had been a shining new light on the field of medicine. Now he traveled from city to city, curing whores of the pox and helping out young girls in trouble. Every now and then he would patch up criminals who had been injured and because of their circumstances were unable to go to the hospital....This fit him better, he was sure.
He had also learned that his tastes in partners had changed dramatically. After he had left Josh, he had sworn off sex altogether. Still, he rarely indulged. He had probably only taken, on average, a lover a year. For a while, whenever he was particularly lonely, he had found someone who reminded him of his former lover. Then, on a job, he'd had the shock of his life when he had believed he was going to be doing a routine check up on a female whore and the girl had promptly lifted her skirt to reveal her filling cock. Jack had never even heard of anything like it, and it had filled him with so much lust, as well as a feeling of rightness. She had fucked him that night, and the next morning the doctor had tried his hand at topping. Since then, whenever he found one of those exotic lady-boys, it was a temptation hard to resist. Jack knew there was one at Freeman's, but he had yet to feel the pull to make a booking with him. Her.
Yet still, every day he regretted no longer being with Josh. He had loved him as he had never loved before, and never would again.
Sawyer looked down, pretending to study his glass as he discretely watched the man totter off out the door. Sniffing lightly as he brought his head up again, Sawyer took his time finishing his drink, lighting up a cigar along the way and puffing on it as he turned to survey the occupants of the other saloon.
No Naveen for him tonight, as the Dom had taken another client upstairs before Sawyer had finished his card game. One who would doubtless keep the East Indian busy for longer than Sawyer was prepared to wait. Naveen had been at the bar briefly before that when Marton introduced Sawyer to Jack, eyes flicking across when he thought Sawyer wasn't watching, but Sawyer noticed. And this despite his very careful southern gentleman act as he pretended not to know the man Freeman's proprietor was introducing as the new doctor for the establishment.
Gazing around the parlour, Sawyer noticed Boone smirking at him evilly as if he thought Sawyer was wishing he were the one Naveen was flogging. Bitch! Sawyer had no time for the boy who thought he was too much of a lady to use his cock for the purpose God gave it to him.
The other whores were obviously occupied already, as he couldn't see any of them beyond Liv still chatting up Billy behind him and the evil boy-bitch still giving him the come-on lips as if he'd change his mind now there was no one else in sight.
Sawyer huffed, and then drained his glass before standing up slowly. Dammit, if they were here now, he'd have gladly gone with Craig or... what was that other new boy called? Anything to take his mind off the man who'd stumbled out the door.
Removing the cigar from his mouth, Sawyer licked his lips and winked at Ian whilst rubbing a hand across his crotch meaningfully. The boy glanced in the direction of his hand and licked his own lips. Sawyer huffed again, clamping the cigar back in his mouth, and turned on his heel to stride out of the place. He hoped Boone remembered the one time he'd let the kid suck his dick with fondness,'cause he sure as hell wasn't getting the chance again any time soon. It wasn't right to deny your masculinity like that boy did. How could he even think Sawyer was interested in fucking him? Might as well fuck one of Marg's girls if he wasn't allowed to touch the whore's cock.
Sniffing as he hit the warm night air, Sawyer decided he might as well head home for a change. It was disconcerting enough to have run into Matt--Jack--in there at Freeman's of all places, here in San Francisco after all this time, and if there wasn't anyone to screw to take his mind off the memories it brought up, he'd be better off looking for that bottle he had by the bed for just such emergencies. At least that way, if he passed out, he was already in his own place and he could just sleep it off rather than have someone help him to a room upstairs at Freeman's and have them speculate publicly on why he was drinking more than usual.
Once in his room, Sawyer didn't expect to be disturbed. He'd looked in on the landlady on his way up and she'd nodded at his request to be left alone. The last thing he needed was her bringing up a hot cocoa or clean towels or any number of other excuses she found to nosey into his business, or his pants, as he'd begun to think she might be considering.
The knock on the door startled him as he poured himself a large tumbler of cheap whiskey and he nearly overflowed the glass. Swearing as he placed the bottle on the table, he licked the excess liquid off his thumb and headed to the door, shaking his head.
"I thought I asked..." Sawyer stopped dead before he'd even properly begun the diatribe to the landlady as he realized who it was in his doorway.
Certainly not his landlady.
Matthew.
Or Dr. Jack as he was now calling himself.
Sawyer's heart was threatening to choke him now. He'd managed somehow before at Freeman's to maintain the façade of calm during the ordeal of being faced with his former lover so unexpectedly, but this... the man himself right here, right in front of him, close enough that Josh could have reached out and kissed him. This was a little different.
Matt didn't look as young as he had when Josh last saw him. The drink had changed him, although he was still handsome; still the man Josh had loved so intensely all those years ago. This was the man he couldn't forget, although he tried desperately to do so at every turn of a card as he played his stakes; every flicker of emotion across another man's face as he kissed them or sucked their cocks; every pulse of warm come inside his body as he was fucked into oblivion; and every lash across his back as he was flogged to a heated heaven that made his soul roar and beg for more.
None of those things truly made Josh forget.
Holding back his urgent need to touch the unshaven cheeks, kiss the soft lips and cling to the strong body, Sawyer took a step backward, although he knew the shock of this meeting must have already shown on his face.
"What do you want?" he asked warily, schooling his face into an expression he hoped was as far away as possible from the love he still felt.
After Jack left Freeman's, he couldn't make himself walk away thinking that he would never see Josh again. The doctor wasn't surprised when the man had emerged not five minutes later. As quietly as possible, he had followed 'Sawyer' to his rented room. He debated knocking, but the drink had eventually overrun his better judgement.
When Josh--no, Sawyer--had finally answered, Jack couldn't think of a word to say. He just stood there, his eyes sad as he watched the walls slam back up around his former love.
Sawyer glanced out into the hall past Jack when the man didn't answer him, but no-one seemed to be about, not even his nosey landlady. The last thing Sawyer wanted was for people to see Jack here and there was no telling what either of them was likely to say or do, so privacy was the best option.
"You'd better come in, I suppose," he finally offered, stepping back so the man could do just that.
He shut the door behind the doctor and as he took his arm back, he brushed against Jack's hand accidentally. Swallowing deeply at the tingle that ran through him, Sawyer's immediate urge to press the man against the wall and kiss him to within an inch of his life was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to resist.
"Did you know I was in San Francisco?" he had to ask, gesturing towards the two chairs by the small wooden table at one side of the room.
Jack's hand went to cover the patch of skin seemingly scalded by his ex-lover's touch. Josh's hair was a bit longer since the last time they had seen each other, to his chin now instead of his ears, and he too was growing scruff on his face. It was beautiful on him, making him appear a man fully in control of himself.
His eyes fell on the bedside table, and the over-filled tumbler of whiskey sitting there by an open bottle. Jack didn't wait for permission or denial from Sawyer, moving instead around the other man and his furniture so he could take the glass in hand.
Sitting on the bed, his hand shockingly steady as it held its prize, he locked eyes with Sawyer. "I saw the Bay today, and the ocean." Another non sequitur, yet it was important for him to say somehow . "Last ocean I saw was in Boston." Jack shrugged in a slow roll of shoulders. "I had no idea."
As Jack ignored his question at first and headed for the drink on the table, Sawyer frowned. It deepened even more when the man ignored the chairs and sat instead on the bed.
Sawyer wasn't quite sure what to do with himself now. By rights he should sit on one of the chairs as he'd intended for Jack to do, but for some reason he couldn't stop himself taking a step towards the bed and Jack instead of finding a seat. He stopped abruptly as Jack spoke again.
The façade Sawyer had tried to keep in place almost crumbled at the second sentence, but he swallowed hard, holding himself together by an extremely thin thread.
"So, what..." he had to clear his throat again, unable to finish the sentence, and for want of something to do, Sawyer grabbed the whiskey bottle and reached to the nearby shelf to retrieve another glass. His back to Jack, he poured himself a new glassful, hands shaking more than the doctor's apparently were. "What brings you here, then?" he finally got out, returning the bottle to the table, slowly replacing the cap and taking a long swallow of the booze before turning back to Jack.
He needed to sit down.
As disconcerted as he was by his ex-lover's presence, he still managed to wonder what Jack expected to happen by his coming here. Realising he looked ridiculous standing in his own space as if he was the interloper, Sawyer still couldn't decide whether he should seat himself in a chair or try to perturb Jack by sitting beside him on the bed.
Dithering for too long, he looked into his whiskey glass as if he could divine the correct answer in the amber liquid.
Jack took several long drinks from his glass, emptying half of it. He had no idea what to tell Jo--Sawyer. He himself wasn't even sure why he was there. After several long moments of being locked in his own thoughts, Jack took another drink.
"San Francisco is beautiful, isn't it? So much younger and fresher than anything on the East." He scratched at the stubble growing on his neck. "I came here to get away. Kept moving west, farther and farther away..." Away from Josh, away from the past, away from the things that hurt him. "Never ever thought I'd see you again."
Finally, the reason he was there became clear, and he glanced up to meet Sawyer's eyes, before looking once more to his glass. "Can't help but think there's a reason, that after so many years we'd be pushed together again..."
Sawyer watched Jack down most of the whiskey in a very short time, taking gulps occasionally from his own glass as if to keep up, but knowing he'd never manage it. Sawyer probably drank to excess too--he knew this--but he was nowhere near Jack's league, and there were extended times when he left the bottle alone, which he doubted Jack could say. Seeing Jack drinking here and now though, and feeling so wound up himself over running into his old lover and old feelings trying their damnedest to surface against his will, he needed the booze or he'd never get through it.
"I like it," he put in when Jack mentioned how attractive San Francisco was, purposely ignoring any other thing the man was trying to allude to. Swallowing another substantial amount of the drink at Jack's explanation of why he was here, Sawyer almost choked at the doctor's last words. "No, you're wrong," he scowled, "There's no reason. Whatever we had is long gone."
Dumping his glass on the table, Sawyer ran a hand through his hair and paced away from Jack, heart thumping. He didn't feel the same way about Matt any more; he couldn't. Too much time had passed and Jack had evidently not changed. Sawyer, however, had changed. He was no longer the naive boy who had loved Matt. He had found himself a place in this town and he was comfortable and happy.
Most of the time.
Gripping the edges of one of the narrow windows in his room, he gazed blindly out into the darkness. This was wrong, no matter what his body was screaming at him.
"Perhaps you'd better go," he muttered, not turning from the window.
Memories flashed behind Jack's eyes of their last day together. Things had been tough for a while, but he still hadn't expected that what they had would end. Fights didn't kill love. Yet still, somehow, their perfect world had come to an end.
"No." His voice was quiet but sure.
Finishing off his glass of whiskey, he stood, setting the empty tumbler next to Sawyer's. Moving slowly, Jack pressed the palms of his hands against his old lover's shoulder blades, and laid his cheek to rest against the base of his neck.
"It's not over, for me. You haunt my steps... every move I make, is affected by you. I... I'd do anything to make things right again. I still..." He trailed off, unsure of the reaction those words would get.
Sawyer so hadn't expected Jack to attempt to touch him that he'd barely registered the man moving across the room. After the strength of Jack's denial, he should have expected it, but he hadn't. The sensation of having the man he had loved so deeply pressing up against him almost wore him down and the words he spoke caused a tightness in Sawyer's chest that he hadn't expected. Swallowing hard, Josh closed his eyes tightly, trying to convince himself to move away.
"Don't say things you don't... mean," he struggled to get out, voice cracking, "I can't... I can't..."
Jack attempted to shake his head, but it came across more as him rubbing his forehead back and forth across the width of Sawyer's neck.
"Wouldn't lie to you, not ever." Little wisps of blonde hair tickled his nose, which lead Jack to bury his face deeper into the warmth of the gambler's neck. He pressed a kiss there, and sighed.
"Doesn't this feel right to you?" One arm wound around Sawyer, forming a loose hug. "I can't leave, not when going out there would mean I'd probably never see you again." They would never be at Freeman's together; Jack himself would probably only be there once a month and on emergencies. And Sawyer was there for the game. Whenever that moved on, so would he.
The touches across Sawyer's back and neck sent a thrill through him he couldn't fight, although he wasn't sure he could believe the words. Way back when, Jack--Matt then--had lied to him about the booze at the very least, if nothing else.
"Right?" He finally managed to question, "I'm not sure anything will ever feel right to me any more. And maybe it would be better if we didn't see each other ever again."
Straightening up, he tried to shake Jack off as he turned, but the man wasn't letting him go so easily, and Sawyer found himself eye to eye with Jack. This close, he was unable to stop himself somehow, and almost without thinking he pressed his lips to Jack's, thrusting his tongue inside the other man's mouth as he backed him towards the bed.
Jack's mood had shifted in the past few moments. His whole demeanor had become slow, deliberate. He took his time, spending most of it within his own thoughts. When Sawyer spoke again, not realizing he was repeating himself, he said, "No, I had to see you again. I had to. There had to be a reason we were brought--"
It hadn't exactly registered in his mind that Sawyer had turned, until his lips were taken in a brutal kiss. He let out a choked moan, his own tongue wrapping around the one invading his mouth. Oh, that was Josh. He still tasted the same, even after so long. And yet now he tasted of whiskey as well, which just made it all the better.
When his knees hit against the mattress, Jack became dead weight in Sawyer's arms. The bed came rushing up to meet him, and he landed with a soft 'thud'. Lips continued to assault his, and he did his best to keep up. His cock began to swell, and he rolled his hips up in hopes of finding an answering hardness.
Sawyer wasn't sure this was anywhere near right, but at Jack's reaction to the kiss he gave up on thinking altogether and simply allowed himself to appreciate the sensations without contemplating what they meant to him; that this was Matt, back in his arms after so long.
It felt good and Sawyer knew how to take advantage of that, no matter what he would or wouldn't have done had he thought about Matt. The hips pushing upward had him grinding his own downward and then he was tugging at clothes, undoing buttons and pushing clothes out of his way, desperate to find naked skin with a mouth that had been starved of the taste of male flesh for far too long in his opinion.
As Sawyer pulled at his clothes, Jack reached out to tear at the other man's. His fingers, though, felt thick and ineffective as he tried to unbutton his ex-lover's shirt. He was able to manage it eventually, so the shirt hung open and pulled free from his trousers.
Hands stroking over the blond's pectorals, Jack noted how the chest beneath his hands had changed in the years since they had last been together. Like the rest of him, it had transformed from handsome boyishness to the settled confidence of a man. It looked good, very good.
His fingers trailed down over the flat of his abdomen, and over to his hip. He sighed as their lips parted once more, and he tipped his head back so his throat was bared. Jack's hand then finally made it under the waistband of Josh's pants, and he pulled the younger man close to him. A small moan escaped his throat at the sensation, and he paused for one moment as he thought he felt some raised flesh on the man's back. Pushing that thought aside, he once again forced Sawyer's groin against his own.
Sawyer began sucking on Jack's neck harshly, interspersed with little bites as he was pulled in tight. The bared chest under him felt hot and damp, and Sawyer groaned throatily against Jack's Adam's apple as he rolled his hips into the hardness under him.
Tearing his mouth away, he gasped, "Get the rest of these off, now!" and pulled back enough to tear off his own shirt before going back to pull Jack's pants down and off in almost one motion. "Christ..." he breathed, running hands over Jack's stomach and eyeing the man's cock. He licked his lips at the vision laid out before him, desperate to have the pulsing length buried inside his mouth. But he couldn't do that, it would be too much like making love to Matt.
"Turn over," he instructed, standing up and shedding his pants as fast as he could, then moving to his dresser to find the pot of grease he kept there for the odd occasion when he found himself inviting someone back here.
Jack moaned loudly as his hard cock was released, and he reached down to take himself in hand. He hadn't been this turned on in years. Then again, no one had ever been able to give him as much pleasure as Josh did. His cock already leaked; he was so turned on that he was afraid he wouldn't be able to last long, even though they had barely started.
When Sawyer moved away, leaving only an order, Jack pushed himself up so he could watch that much-loved backside move away. Oh, oh!! His eyes widened as he took in the bruises, some newer than others, scattered across his ass and back. So he had felt something when he had touched Josh's backside a moment ago.
He rolled quickly, the lust still pounding through his veins warring with his new concern for the man he had given so much of his life to. He rested on his hands and knees, his head hanging as he panted harshly. Later. They would discuss it later. He'd convince Sawyer they really should run away together, if only to get the blond away from his tormentor.
He sensed Sawyer returning, the scent of his arousal strengthening as he neared. It made Jack's stomach do flip-flops, and he bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut. "Oh, god, fuck me, please!"
"No problem," Sawyer smirked, kneeling on the bed behind the perfect ass he wouldn't allow himself to think of as anything but an ass to fuck.
Dipping the fingers of one hand into the grease and scooping a little out, he stoppered the pot again and dropped it on the bed beside him as he stroked a little of the grease onto his cock. Sawyer placed his other hand on the small of Jack's back, his thumb rubbing small circles as if to soothe someone who had never done this before. Swallowing back the memory of a first time he really didn't need to be remembering right now, Sawyer ran fingers down Jack's crack and then pushed one inside experimentally.
Oh, so tight!
The sensation just against his finger was amazing, and Sawyer wondered how long it had been since Matt--no, Jack--had last done this. His cock pulsed with the thought of being one of the only men... He closed his eyes for a second, cutting off the thought by lifting his other hand from Jack's back and gripping himself with it, stroking the firm flesh until he groaned.
Jack shuddered, his eyes clamping shut. The rest of his body tensed as well as he tried to acclimate himself to the intrusion. It had been close to a year since the last time he had experienced this. Even the one finger inside him felt especially large. The sting faded quickly, aided by lust and drink. Letting out a shuddering breath, Jack relaxed around the digit. In the end, no matter who he claimed to be now, this was Josh. His old love wouldn't hurt him. This wasn't a dispassionate whore who only cared about getting it done and getting paid, or some drifter picked up in a bar too drunk to show finesse.
"O-okay, ready for 'nother one." Jack nodded, flicking a glance over his shoulder to meet the blond's gaze.
Sawyer was desperate to just shove his cock where his finger was by now, but at Matt's--no, Jack's, dammit!--shaky words asking for another digit, Sawyer let go of his erection and slipped the first finger out a little so he could slide in two this time. Swallowing nervously, he placed his spare hand back where it had been on Jack, rubbing gently and closing his eyes as he searched for the sweet spot inside the other man.
Jack gasped a little at the stretching and Sawyer flicked his fingers in a way he knew would cause intense pleasure and make his partner forget any discomfit.
"That's it, just relax now..." he murmured as Jack's muscles tightened around him as he repeated the maneuver. Moving in closer, he prepared to replace his fingers, sliding his other hand down to stroke over Jack's ass.
Jack whimpered, pushing back against the fingers invading him. They were pressing insistently at his prostate, that special gland deep inside of him that made him see stars. His channel pulsed around the invading fingers, and he relaxed with a moan.
When the fingers were removed, Jack put even more pressure against the hand resting on his backside. His elbows gave out, and his chest collapsed to the mattress. Jack's nipples rubbed against the embroidery on the quilt beneath him, and he cried out as his body bucked once, pressing his face into the blanket. His hips made small needy movements, so desperate he was to be filled.
When Jack collapsed down onto the mattress, Sawyer eased closer, his hand pressing down more firmly as he felt the man's tension increase against it. Slowly, he eased just the first inch or so of his cock into the waiting hole, breathing evenly and almost trembling in anticipation.
Moving both hands now to grip the slim hips under him, Sawyer slid his cock forward, pushing gradually inside until he was fully sheathed. It was oh-so-tight, so deliciously hot around him that Josh closed his eyes for a second, trying to remember when he had last felt anything so good.
"Okay?" he queried, opening his eyes and looking down the beautiful back that he'd once known so well, every mark and crease of it. Resisting the urge to caress it in any way, Sawyer kept his hands where they were and gave an experimental thrust deep into the velvety channel.
Matt's fingers scritched against the quilt, his nails catching on it. It felt so very good to be filled, he could barely contain himself. This was Josh, his Josh, inside of him once more. The shape felt so familiar, it was if it belonged there. Briefly, he wished he could see his ex-lover's face.
But then Josh gave one single thrust, and it scraped so perfectly along his prostate. "Oh... yes." Matt bit his lip, and his eyes screwed up tightly. No one ever, ever, made him feel this good. He was helplessly addicted. "More!"
Sawyer didn't answer in words; he simply began thrusting in earnest, his fingers digging into the hips firmly as he closed his eyes and sought images of anyone but Matt. Naveen swam before his eyes, but Sawyer had never fucked him and that image under him just wouldn't take hold. Several of Freeman's other whores came to mind, but most of them he'd only fucked once or twice and he found it difficult to keep their pictures inside his head too.
As his pleasure rose, Sawyer found the vision morphing back into familiar territory without him even concentrating, and he was so swept up in the whole experience of being buried inside this well-known space that he forgot to even push the image of his beautiful young Matt away. Without thought, Josh found his hands sliding down the man in front of him, seeking to make the memory real.
He groaned as his orgasm neared, and without opening his eyes, he reached around Matt, grasping his cock firmly and pumping it in time with his thrusts as he pressed himself down onto the other man's back, forcing his legs to spread and Matt's rear end to lower too. Josh's other hand slipped under Matt, fingertips skimming over a nipple as he moved it to hold the man tight to his chest as he breathed into the back of his neck.
It was all too much for Matt. No mere man could survive pleasure so intense. Josh was hitting all of his pleasure spots, the combined force making him cry aloud. His cock dripped steadily, and every thrust hit again and again on the spot that made him see stars. And he too was falling into the fantasy of forever ago. The stitching in the quilt beneath him almost felt familiar to his touch, and he could smell the scent of jasmine on the air, as if it wafted in from the Holloway's gardens.
"Gonna... oh, God..." Matt shuddered, letting out a hiss as he came. Liquid coated Josh's hand and the bedspread, and after another soft noise escaped his throat, he sagged in his lover's arms.
Josh came mere seconds after Matt, the feeling of the other man's seed against his hand altogether too much to resist as Matt shuddered into his climax. Josh gave a few final thrusts as the aftershocks rippled through him, and then he too collapsed, his sweat-soaked skin sticking to Matt's under him.
He could feel their duel heartbeats pounding fiercely and Josh kept his eyes closed, letting his breathing come back to normal and trying not to think about what he'd just done. Swallowing deeply, he couldn't help his mind from settling on the fact that he had just fucked the man he had left so very long ago, the one he had promised himself never to go near again. What a weak-willed shit he was. It was all for Matt that he had left; the only thought in his head at the time being that his lover would be so much better off without Josh to drag him down.
But what had happened in the intervening years? Jack was in no better state now than Matt had been when Josh had walked out the door that night in the rain. Was that why Sawyer had given in and fucked him now? Because it didn't matter? That no matter what the fuck Sawyer did, Jack wouldn't change? That he would continue to waste his potential, drowning himself in booze and stumbling through life like none of it mattered? The bastard! Didn't he realise what Josh had given up for him?
Angry now, Sawyer pulled away from Jack, barely holding his trembling in as he grabbed his trousers and pulled them on roughly before finding his glass and refilling it. He sat down heavily and took a swig from the glass, eyeing Jack dispassionately. He had to hold on to the anger now, or else he didn't know what might happen.
"Happy now?" He asked, raising an eyebrow as he gazed at the man on the bed, "Get what you wanted?"
Jack was sated and near unconscious when Josh forcibly removed himself. His brow furrowed, but for a moment he thought that possibly the man was just going to retrieve something for clean-up. But then he heard the sound of glass on glass, and smelt the fragrance of his favorite drink.
The words were what shocked him out of his stupor. After shooting the man a forlorn look, Jack rolled out of the bed. It took him a moment to steady himself, as his knees hadn't solidified after his earth-shattering orgasm. He stumbled across the room towards the blond. He barely made it before falling to his knees in front of Josh.
Matt's hands scrabbled at the other man's pants, his eyes for once fixed on his old lover, instead of the drink so close to his face. "No, want you, only ever wanted you... forever... It was made to be! Come with me, we can leave here... Go to Seattle. Things can be like they were back in Boston. Everything'll be perfect again. No one will ever find us, not brothers, not fathers, no one. We'll sneak away in the night... whoever... whoever's hurting you, will never see you again."
"Seattle?" Sawyer asked, incredulous as the naked man landed at his feet and started spouting some garbage about going away together and how it could be like it was before.
He put down the glass and pushed Jack's hands off his legs, his angry frown increasing despite the twisting feeling inside him.
Jack's final words registered suddenly.
"Hurting me? What d'ya mean, hurting me? No-one's hurting me," he huffed, his gaze confused.
Jack's eyes darkened, and his head drooped. It saddened him to find out just how in denial Sawyer was. Reaching again for his old lover, this time he traced his fingers over a bare hip, where several dark lash marks peaked out. "These marks... cover your backside. Your wrists..." His hands traveled there next, ghosting over angry red lines. "...ligature marks."
Removing his hands, Jack shifted his gaze once more to meet Sawyer's. "I would assume that you had a gambling debt? Or you got caught fucking someone you shouldn't have... again?" Jack's voice dropped at the last word, remembering how things had been when their relationship started going downhill.
Frowning as the other man touched him again, Sawyer couldn't help the shiver that ran through him at the feeling it produced. He genuinely had forgotten the marks still on him from recent encounters with Naveen... and another situation he'd foolishly gotten himself into while out trolling the rougher places a couple of nights ago. Naveen was rough on him, true enough, but the man was careful about marking his skin too badly, and the worst of the bruises and the lines around his wrist were not his usual Dom's work. Not that Sawyer was about to tell Jack any of this.
Jack's words just made Sawyer angrier though. What right did the man have to accuse him of anything? He hadn't been caught in circumstances like Jack was implying since... since that one damned time when things had gone from bad to worse between them. He wasn't about to apologise for that again now.
"It's none of your goddamned business, Jack," Sawyer growled, "and I think it's time you left. Don't imagine I'm thinking of picking up with you where we left off just 'cause I fucked you tonight. It'd never work."
Sawyer stood up and moved away from Jack, hitching his pants up properly and standing at the window once more, gazing out at the night with annoyance. Why in fuck did Jack think he had to save Sawyer? Matt had never been able to save Josh, so why should this be any different? Swallowing harshly, he tossed back over his shoulder, "Just leave, dammit. And don't you dare tell anyone at Freeman's about any of this--what we just did or what we had before. I'll just deny it."
Jack shook his head, his eyes growing stormy as he watched Sawyer's walls come slamming back up. What was he thinking, denying them both like this? This, each other, was what they both needed. Things always had been better when they were together. Why didn't Josh understand that?
"No! Just... no! You can't do this to us, Josh! To yourself! I'm trying to help you, here. We could be a pair again." Jack forced himself to his feet, moving so he stood behind his old flame. "Just listen to reason, Sawyer! We're so much stronger together. Just do it; run away with me!"
"What the fuck...?" Sawyer swung around, his green eyes blazing, "Help me? You can't help me, Jack. And I ran away twice before, remember? Neither of those times seemed to help me any. Look where I am, dammit!"
He gestured roughly, indicating the room they were in. How far removed from his youth could this be? Couldn't Matt see how low he'd sunk? How much more running away was there to be done?
Suddenly a vision of his mother's sick room came to Josh, the frail, beautiful woman smiling her approval at the two handsome young men before her, and then his father's angry face swam across his vision, the way it had looked the day it had all fallen to pieces for the first time.
Sawyer swallowed hard, maintaining his anger so that he wouldn't fall apart. His heart pounded noisily in his ears and he took a threatening step forward, one fist tightening. He was shaking, but he hoped Jack believed it was because he was so furious, rather than because of the swirling confusion tightening around his heart.
"Get your fucking clothes on and leave. Just leave. We both know what happens when..." and he couldn't go on. Josh didn't want to remember when things had gotten really bad between them, but it was the only way he could keep his fury at the surface and stop himself from falling at Matt's feet, begging his forgiveness.
Jack didn't want to respond to the comments about Josh's lodgings. They were much finer than the room the doctor had procured for himself. And to be in the city, it was more than many could ask for, especially those as unemployed as Sawyer was. True, it was no fine plantation, and was not fitted to who Josh had been before Matt had met him, but it was nonetheless a nice room. Then again, it wasn't the cozy place they had shared in Boston.
"Are you saying you honestly wish you were still back under your father's rule, fucking slave boys when his eyes were turned away? You were miserable there! Always hiding..." He shook with rage barely contained.
Then when Sawyer brought up his anger, and the trouble he had controlling it, Jack's hand caught the other man's bicep. "Don't say a word, Sawyer. That was a long time ago. I don't... do that any longer."
Sawyer shook his head. "I'm not sayin' that at all," he growled, "I just... what my life could have been... what my father thought it should be... Dammit, Matt, you know what he wanted for me and it sure as hell wasn't this. We could have had something... but nothing worked after you started drinking."
Tensing as Jack caught his arm, Sawyer huffed angrily, "And your... what you did then... you might not do that any more, but what the fuck have you got here? Just what do you think you can offer me that's any better than this, anyway?"
Sawyer's eyes swung around the room and then landed back on Jack's face, his eyes lit with something he was no longer sure was one hundred percent anger, although he didn't relax any yet, his arm still caught in Jack's fist.
Jack's fingers tightened on Sawyer's arm, and the line in his forehead deepened. "We did have something, Josh. We had six years of something. We could have still had something, if you hadn't run out just when I needed you the most." Matt had told himself so many times, that had only Josh stuck around and really tried to help him, then he could have left the drinking behind.
Growing desperate once more, Jack shook his old flame's arm a few times. "What isn't better than this? It would be you and I, together again. I... I could try to stop drinking if you want, just as long as it was us, again." His face softened, "I gave you myself a long time ago."
Sawyer's scowl grew stronger and he tried to pull away from the insistent hand on his arm, his whole body tense with a mixture of anger and whatever it was that was twisting his gut so painfully.
"Ran out when you needed me the most? I..." He hadn't run out on Matt, not like that, anyway, "...left because you wouldn't let me help you! And you ran out on me long before that, every time you ran and hid inside a damned bottle. Where in hell were you when I needed you most? Passed out, of course, drunk as a goddamned skunk. Matt, we might have had something once, but that disappeared when you..." and he couldn't say it, couldn't say how bad it had gotten. He gulped noisily and went on, "And what would make this time any different anyway? I could try to stop drinking... That's just it, isn't it? Try. You're not prepared to just stop. Fuck, man, I would have given it up too, if it would help any. In fact I did, but I doubt you even noticed, you were so damned drunk most of the time, you barely cared if I was there or not, let alone how much I was or wasn't drinking to help you get off the stuff."
Sawyer was shaking hard now, Jack's hand still gripping him so tightly he was sure he'd have a bruise later, but he couldn't stop the viciously honest words he'd never managed to utter quite this way before. "You were barely in a fit state to do anything by the end, why else do you think I..." and he swallowed abruptly, "...did what I did? I never got what I needed from you any more and whatever you did offer was hardly... Jesus!" He tore his arm away at last, turning his back and running a shaky hand through unruly hair. "Why the fuck d'ya think I look for it now," he growled so lowly that he wasn't even sure if the other man heard the last bit.
Jack snarled, his nails now biting into his palm. He had visions of taking Sawyer by the hair, and slamming his head through the window. The man was a right bastard for bringing that up. "How dare you blame me for that! You were the one who decided to go out and get your kicks elsewhere! It was your choice, not mine! How was I supposed to miss you when you were never around?" Screwing his eyes shut, he shouted, "Look at me when I talk to you, damnit!!"
Sawyer was still shaking, and he really didn't want to look at Jack, but the anger that was spat at him so loudly shocked him into turning. The guilt that ran through him at what he had done all that time ago, combined with the expression on Jack's face, made him back up a step and he wondered for a moment if his ex-lover was going to hit him.
Again.
Sawyer was by no means weak nor unable to defend himself, but the physical direction their relationship had taken when Jack was at his worst with the drinking had so surprised him--and, it had to be said, frightened him somehow--that he had taken the brunt of it without retaliation at first. That in it's turn had shamed him and, his face flushing slightly at the memory, excited him in a strange way; a way he had tried not to think about as something he needed to recreate in his subsequent sexual encounters.
When he had finally been so angered that he had actually fought back, the guilt at hurting Matt both with his fists and in dragging him into the life in the first place, not to mention the situations he found himself in as their relationship disintegrated, had made it impossible for them to continue as they had.
"Why, what you gonna do if I don't? Hit me?" he snarled, anger darkening his eyes once more.
Jack growled, his hands impacting with Josh's shoulders and shoving the other man roughly against the wall. Jack leaned forward, his face inches from his lover's. "You bastard, you fucking bastard! I won't hit you, but I damn well should! I gave up my life for you, I did everything I could to make things good for you! You knew I wasn't supposed to--that he--" The fact that Jack's own father was an abusive drunk had been enough to keep the doctor from drinking for years. "I had never had a drop before you, not one! I'd barely touched another man! Look at me now!" The doctor shoved his old flame against the wall once more. "All my patients are whores or addicts! There are times when I go without food so I don't run out of whiskey!" Images of the years without Josh flashed before his eyes, how hard things had been at times... "Passed out on the streets... Only comfort I got the few times I found a whore willing to let me suck her cock." He trailed off, each item he listed coming out quieter and quieter.
Jack's grasp tightened, one hand on either side of the nape of Sawyer's neck. He swayed, his eyes dark and pained. "I hope you rot in hell."
Sawyer just looked at Jack as he railed, his anger still simmering as he listened. Matt had given up a lot, but so had Josh. And then, when it all fell apart... so it had been rough out there, but whose fault was that? And it wasn't as if it had been a bed of roses for Sawyer either. Josh had left him because he was only dragging Matt down more; he certainly hadn't made it any easier for the man to get past the drinking issue, that was for sure. Why Jack couldn't see that, Sawyer didn't know. He wasn't supposed to end up worse off without Josh, but... surely he only had himself to blame if he did.
The last words registered as odd and Sawyer furrowed his brows in confusion. Her cock? His mind went back to Boone and he briefly wondered if Jack had been with the boy who seemed so intent on acting like a girl. Surely not? What they'd had together back then had been so different from anything Jack could get with a boy--girl--or whatever Ian actually thought he was, it was hard to think of the doctor doing what he was saying... but then, a lot of water had gone under the bridge since then.
"Her cock? Her cock?" He repeated, "Jesus, Jack, how low have you sunk? And if you think that be-ribboned boy with the pretty eyes at Freeman's is gonna let you do that, then you are sadly mistaken. He thinks his cock is a sad waste of time and would probably rather have you cut it off. Come to think of it, why don't you offer to do just that?" he spat, "And maybe he'd suck yours in gratitude! Now get your fucking hands off me, 'cause I can promise you, I ain't gonna sit back and take it today."
Sawyer didn't move, but the red-hot fury he felt inside must surely have been showing in his eyes.
Jack frowned as he thought over the new information Sawyer had given him about Ian. The boy-girl was beautiful, more stunning than any person he'd ever seen before. The doctor had heard he was prone to pranks, however, and so he tended to shy away as he knew he was an easy target. Yet that had never stopped him from watching Ian from afar, in the short time he'd been in San Francisco.
In all of his travels, Jack had never met a boy who wished to be and lived as a woman. He hadn't even known that anyone like that had existed. It made the boy-girl all the more fascinating. Matt had always wanted a lover who was part man, and part woman. All the cross dressers he had met in his life had been mostly male, practically forcing their cocks on Jack. They'd assumed that's what he had wanted. If Ian could make him feel something, then his cock was incidental.
He removed his hands, his eyes focusing on Sawyer once more. "Just because you were my first, that I spent years taking your cock, doesn't mean that that's what I always wanted. Maybe I wanted the gentleness of a woman, even if the body didn't match! But I love--d... you, and so it was enough." He knew that if there was one area in which he had excelled and grown, it was that. Knowing what he wanted in a relationship, especially ones that only lasted an hour.
"Maybe I should go. I apparently have a service to offer one of my patients." It was then that he was struck by the fact he was painfully naked. He snarled half-heartedly towards Sawyer, and moved towards his scattered clothing.
Sawyer stayed where he was as Jack let go, almost collapsing against the wall at the implication of Jack's words.
Just because... I spent years taking your cock, doesn't mean that that's what I always wanted.
He'd wanted something else? But Matt had never shown any interest in doing things the other way when they'd been together, despite the times Josh had tried to suggest it.
Maybe I wanted the gentleness of a woman
Maybe that said it all. Josh had been, as he was so painfully made aware again now, Matt's first proper lover of either sex, and maybe... maybe Josh was to blame for Matt's confusion because of it. Sawyer closed his eyes, barely hearing the rest of what Jack said now as he felt the guilt wash through him once more. Maybe if Josh hadn't seduced Matt that day by the river, hadn’t insisted on taking it further in the nights that followed over the next while, maybe, just maybe, Matt would have left the plantation house innocent of what two men could do and found himself a proper woman.
A proper woman with all her gentleness and soft curves; one with whom he could safely have an open relationship and eventually marry; have several small versions of Matt and live happily ever after behind a safe white picket fence with; practising medicine to other similar families and going to church on Sundays. He'd have been safe from the knowledge of what sick, depraved men like Josh did behind closed bedroom doors of rich plantation houses while their mothers lay dying on silk counterpanes in the next room.
Opening his eyes again, Sawyer said none of this; in fact said nothing at all as he watched Jack dress and turn towards him one last time. A shiver ran through him at the coldness in the familiar hazel eyes and he had to look away.
Quite clearly, Matt had never wanted what Josh had offered. Josh had seduced him and corrupted him and Matt thought he was in love with Josh because he knew no better. And that had ruined everything for the promising young doctor to the point where this was all he had left. No wonder he'd tried to get Sawyer to run away with him. It wasn't love that bound them. It was the corruption of all that was good and kind and loving that did.
"Just go," Sawyer said wearily, dropping his eyes but not moving.
Jack began to pull on his pants, but quickly admitted defeat and the fact he needed to sit to get them over his legs. He ignored Sawyer as he did so, in hopes of bypassing any embarrassment over the move. He stood, shoving his feet into his shoes as he tugged his shirt on, and under his lashes looked in Sawyer's direction. The guilt and emotional exhaustion were easy to spot after knowing Josh so long, but the doctor couldn't understand why it was he would feel that way. There was nothing to be guilty of.
Finally he felt presentable enough, and as he put on his jacket, he said with conviction, "Anytime you ever want me, or need me, you know where to find me. I will be there. For you. Anytime."
Sawyer's eyes flicked up at the words, surprise evident in his look, but he didn't reply. He couldn't understand why Jack should offer such a thing, but somehow he was grateful. It was almost a relief to know the doctor didn't appear to blame him quite as much as he blamed himself, no matter how much he should do. He wanted to say he'd be there for Jack too, but somehow he couldn't make the words come out. Even though it was true.
He stayed where he was, back to the wall and eyes to the floor, waiting for Jack to leave.
The sting of rejection hit Jack strongly once more. He isn't sure what he was expecting; if all of a sudden Josh would call him back into his arms after he had said that. That seeing him actually leaving would shock Sawyer into action. But no, he really was going to let him go. And for all he knew, this would be the last time they'd see each other. Sawyer could be gone with the wind in the morning, especially if he had nothing keeping him here.
Pausing at the door, he looked back at his first and only love. When it became more than obvious that Sawyer wasn't going to say anything, Jack nodded and let himself out. Afraid he was going to collapse right outside the door, he forced himself to put one foot in front of the other until he found himself standing outside of a bar. He definitely deserved a drink.
Sawyer kept it all in until Jack had closed the door. At that point, he heaved out a sobbing sigh and moved to the window to watch the man walk away. Creasing his brow to hold back whatever it was that wanted to escape, he watched the doctor disappear into the darkness.
It could never be the same as it was; not now, no matter how much they appeared to still feel for each other.
Once Jack had vanished completely, Sawyer turned, his anger rising once more. He wouldn't cry, dammit! He picked up the nearest object, one of the empty glasses and threw it hard across the room. It splintered into many tiny pieces as it fell to the floor, echoing the feeling inside Sawyer's chest.
"Damn him!"
Sawyer reached for the other glass, filling it to the brim and downing the contents before refilling it once more. Maybe if he drank the rest of the bottle, he would just pass out and forget this whole sorry night.
Word Count: ~ 9559
Stay tuned to see who will pay the Price of Love next week