Title: The Thin Line
Pairing(s): Jawyer (Jack*Sawyer)
Summary:
"God, Sawyer – I can't – I don't – Jesus CHRIST I HATE YOU!"
Sawyer glared at him, enraged and insulted. Then, without warning, he darted across the clearing, pinned Jack to a tree and slammed his mouth against Jack's.
Jack blinked.
Rating: M, for the obvious reason that I'M writing it. However, this chapter is really just… cute. Not like FLUFFY (I don't do fluffy) more of a little intro to the actual Jawyer.
Disclaimer: God I'd pay a million dollars to own LOST… not that I have a million dollars… not that I actually think I could run the show…. not like I want to anything other than Sayid, Jack and Sawyer… although a little Charlie never hurt anyone… and Desmond's pretty sexy if he's drunk… hmm… can I buy the cast as a whole and just like kill the women? Or at least Shannon? Ah, whatever. HAIL J.J. ABRAMS!
A/N: I'm sticking to a sad soundtrack these days. If you all have any suggestion, I'd mucho appreciate. It'll help with the dramatic scenes. GRACIAS!! Oh and if you happen to see a partial naked Sayid running around in the streets of Maryland anywhere, contact me. He seems to have run away again…
ONWARD TO THE TALE!!
Sawyer's tent, dim and well in the shade, was the only spot on the beach just far enough away that he could lay in comfort without anyone bothering him. It was conveniently placed just out of the way of everyone. So, of course, Sawyer was – not unpleasantly – surprised when, one hot and heavy evening, a sweaty sandy Jack knocked upon the metal base of his shelter.
"Well, howdy, Jackalope! What brings you here to my humble abode on such a," Sawyer couldn't deny himself a quick teasing sweep of Jack's sweat covered body, "heavy day?"
Jack rolled his eyes and flopped in the airplane chair next to Sawyer, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. Sawyer shot him a look. Jack looked up and raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"Did I say you could sit?"
Jack growled and stood. Sawyer grinned and sat back in his own seat.
"So, Doc… What's up?"
Jack shifted where he stood, face flushing. He muttered something Sawyer could barely make out.
"Wha' wazzat, Boss? Couldn't quite hear ya."
Jack twitched, flush vanishing. He cleared his throat and looked down into Sawyer's eyes. He spoke again, louder now.
"You have to take tonight's hatch shift."
"Really now? And howzat?"
"No one else can."
"It's a goddamn island. What the hell do they have to do?"
"They have… stuff to do, Sawyer, so you'll just have to take it."
"Oh? And who says I ain't got somethin' to do?"
"What could you have to do that couldn't wait one night?"
"Well, I got a chapter left to read in mah book and I haven't jacked off in a while."
Sawyer chuckled. Jack rolled his eyes. Neither failed to notice the flushed returned to his face.
"That can wait."
"Can it? And may I ask, Jacko, what you're doin' tonight?"
"I'll be down there with you," Jack replied flatly.
"Oh," Sawyer said, just as flatly.
Jack hovered above Sawyer, shifting slowly from foot to foot. Sawyer looked up at him expectantly. After another moment of silence, Sawyer cleared his throat.
"Look, Hero… As much as I enjoy watchin' you stand there, tryin' to look cool, my nighttime has been taken, sooo… I got things to do," he raised an eyebrow as he emphasized the word 'things'.
Jack rolled his eyes again and turned away, hiding the flush that was spreading down his neck and chest. Sawyer smirked as he watched Jack's ears turning red. He loved to push Jack's buttons.
"The shift starts at 11. Be there on time. And you will be working so don't think you can go doze off," Jack said gruffly. The suggestion in his voice made Sawyer tense in rage, before he relaxed, smug.
"I'll be ready for ya, Jacko."
Jack twitched before marching away. Sawyer snickered loud enough for Jack to hear. After a few minutes, he made sure Jack was out of earshot and shut the tarp to his tent. He rummaged quickly through his suitcase and pulled out a small stack of magazines. The material wasn't nearly as good as the internet, but considering the current circumstance, it'd do just fine.
Flopping down on the makeshift bed, he grabbed blindly for the middle of the stack and flipped it open. The centerfold fluttered down, displaying a naked large breasted woman with her legs spread in a split, leaving nothing to the imagination. Sawyer quickly slid his jeans and boxers down to his knees, wrapped a hand around his limp cock and began to pull. He moved slowly at first, trying to draw it out as long as possible. He closed his eyes tight, imagining different women in the same position as the centerfold – Kate, his old lovers, even Sticks. He started shaking, getting close, his hand pumping faster, his cock covered in precum.
His vision went white and he groaned headily. He was so close. He just needed a simple boost to push himself over the edge. His mind went blank for a single second and then a flurry of images began assaulting his brain; images of Jack working, Jack smiling, Jack chopping wood, Jack shirtless and sweaty standing in his tent blushing. Sawyer couldn't stop them, his hand becoming erratic, the muscles in his stomach clenching and still the images came.
Images of himself and Jack, of the two of them kissing, holding each other, sucking each other; a single image popped in his head, one of himself sliding in and out of Jack, the two of them panting and moaning. At last, the tension and heat reached its peak and he came, biting back a long low moan that painfully sounded like 'Jack'.
Slowly, Sawyer came down from his high, his hand coated in sticky white fluids and his mind a blur. That could not possibly be good. Not at all. And lying under everything flying through his mind in that moment – the screaming rage at himself and Jack, the loud losing battle for his heterosexuality, the terror and confusion of what had just happened – was an anxiety, a deep underlying anticipation, about the long night ahead of which he would be forced to spend with the Good Doctor Shephard.
Sawyer groaned a hurt, confused, deeply guttural groan. This did not bode well.
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A few minutes before his graveyard shift with Jack in that little hole in the ground, Sawyer could be found pacing, back and forth along the worn path from his tent to the hatch. He was mumbling, every moment or so glancing down the path toward the hatch and cursing violently.
"Stupid damn… Jackass fucker… isn't motherfucking fair… stupid jackass in my head… fuck that… wasn't real… fluke..." Sawyer trailed off before stopping his pacing, a gleam of realization in his eye, "Yeah! Was a fluke! I'm not gay, it was a fluke."
He straightened up, allowing his casual smirk to slide back in place. Finally at peace with himself and comfortable with his mini-epiphany, he swaggered to the hatch door and, parting the ivy, he slid the door open. He began to whistle, rather cheerful at this point, as he slid the door shut again behind him.
As he walked down the hall to the computer room, he let his mind drift, daydreaming lightly about Kate. He checked the timer – 107 minutes on the clock – and continued to the kitchen/living room. A familiar tone floated from the record player, a slow piano solo that instantly told him Jack had already arrived and settled in.
Sawyer's smirk widened to a grin as he flipped slowly through the records on the shelf. He grabbed his favorite one, The Beatles Red Album, and slid it onto the player. The needle sat needle sat neatly rested on the groove and soon, the famous song 'Paperback Writer' began to play. Sawyer ambled over to the food closet, grabbing a bar of chocolate and a mini-bag of chips.
He turned to leave and stopped. A small smudged jar, hidden up and away, caught his attention and he grabbed it. Labeled in a small strip of scotch tape reading 'Jerky' in untidy scrawl, the jar had nothing remarkable about it, except for the fact that whatever what was inside was homemade. Pulling off the lid, Sawyer found a large bindle of recently dried out jerky strips. He slipped out a few pieces and tucked the jar back in its place. Finally, he set out to find Jack.
"Yo! Jacko!" Sawyer called out, glancing into the gun cabinet next door. It was rare, but not unusual that Jack could be found in there, polishing the guns to a surgical gleam. But Jack wasn't in there. Sawyer continued, checking the computer lab and the hallway and then gave up. He meandered over to the bedroom – which was unsurprisingly empty of Jack – and flopped down on the perfectly made bed. Curious and cautious, he took a small bite of the first stick of jerky. He paused, eyes widening slightly before they drifted shut and he moaned loudly. He bit down again, engulfed in heavenly flavors. The jerky was perfectly cured and salty with a hint of sweet. Suddenly, the meat was that of a different kind and the juices clung to the back of his throat.
Sawyer froze, eyes snapping open. That didn't just happen.
"Sawyer?"
Sawyer jumped slightly. He glanced over to the doorway. Standing across the room was a dripping wet Jack, wearing only a towel and a concerned expression. His cropped hair glittered with drops of water and each time Jack shifted, a drop would slither down his face, past his chest before disappearing under the towel. Sawyer twitched.
"What, Doc?" Sawyer said, trying to sound snarky, but coming off weary.
"You okay? You sounded like you were in pain," Jack said, stepping closer.
Sawyer flushed and glared at the wall, forcing himself to ignore the drop of water clinging to Jack's tanned abs.
"I'm fine Doc, just bit off more than I could chew," Sawyer said, holding up the jerky in explanation, "The only pain in my life is you."
"Is it good?" Jack asked, innocently. Sawyer sputtered.
"Wha-what?"
"The jerky, Sawyer; is it good?
"Oh, yeah. It's pretty… pretty amazing."
Jack grinned and moved in closer. Sawyer tensed when Jack stopped inches from him and tugged the jerky from his loose hand. Sawyer watched, eyes wide, as Jack slowly slid the jerky between his lips and took an experimental nibble. He bit his lip as Jack's eyes slipped shut, a shudder racking his figure, an expression of pure ecstasy and joy on his face. He licked his lips and looked back down to where Sawyer sat, staring.
Their eyes locked and Jack flushed, realizing how close they were and how naked he still was. Sawyer noticed as well and continued to chew on his lip. They remained in that position, eyes unwavering, Sawyer's teeth grinding vigorously on his lower lip. Slowly, keeping his eyes in contact with Jack's, Sawyer rose until they were eye to eye, their chest pressed fully against each other. Jack shuddered, the fabric of Sawyer's rough sea-washed t-shirt rubbing against his bare skin. Sawyer leaned in, a hand reaching up to brush the water from Jack's hair. Jack shivered as the drops fell on his face. Sawyer smiled a small smile, wiping the water from Jack's flushed cheeks with the palm of his hand.
Cautious, completely aware of what he would do next could totally change their relationship, he wrapped his finger around Jack's chin and tilted Jack's head upward toward him. Jack's breathing hitched and Sawyer pushed forward, pressing their lips together lightly. Jack remained frozen as Sawyer slid his hand behind Jack's neck, the other coming up to rest on his cheek, pulling their lips tighter as his tongue darted out to slide along Jack's lip. Jack gasped into the kiss, allowing Sawyer's tongue entrance.
The kiss was long, slow and very heavy. When they finally parted, both men were panting. Jack's eyes were wide and glittered with confusion. Sawyer stared at him, sudden realization flooding him. They were silent again, neither wishing to speak, for fear of breaking the other. Still cautious, Sawyer shifted, his hands resting on Jack's hips. Jack froze before falling back, muscles spazzing and twitching.
"Jack…?" Sawyer said, hearing himself use Jack's real name. Jack jumped further away.
"N-no… no!" Jack said, shaking.
Sawyer took a timid step toward him. Jack yelped and turned, rocketing out of the room. Sawyer stood still, stunned, before his eyes shut and he groaned. When he opened them again, it took a moment for the darkness to fade to the back of his mind.
"Jack…?" he called out again, experimentally. There was no answer. He sighed.
A/N: Wow... I realized these are really short chapters. So I combined them! Yay!
:D Comments and reviews DEMANDED BY ME!!
Sayid: Do it… please… she won't let me go unless you do…Poor Sawyer, confused about his sexuality! ACCEPT THE RAINBOW!
Sayid: Wait, what? WHAT ABOUT SHANNON?!
Nothing hunny, get back in my bed.
Sayid: But--!
GO, BITCH!
LOL Sayid is my cuddle muffin.
Psh, I wouldn't let you go anyway! :D
COOKIES FOR REVIEWS!!