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A Short Term Effect (Jack/Sawyer R)
Title: A Short Term Effect
Pairing: Jack/Sawyer
Rating: R
Spoilers: Exodus Parts 1 & 2
Summary: Sawyer's memory returns
A/N: the sequel to “Drifting”. It's not completely necessary that you read it first, but it helps :) Many thanks, as usual, to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
halfdutch, esp. for the title suggestion. (Wot? The Cure does angst? You jest...*g*)
He was having the dream again; the one where callused fingers scrape gently over his cheeks and there’s tension wrapped around something very much like desire. He’s warm, almost too warm, and his lips feel wet and heavy. He pants—breathing is always such a struggle—and all he can think is closer, he has to get closer. A growl of frustration slips out, his fists clench, and he’s answered by easy, Sawyer, it’s okay.
He woke in a cold sweat, Jack’s taste still in his mouth.
///
Jack was being shadowed.
It’d been a day or so since Sawyer had regained consciousness when Jack first felt the stray pair of eyes watching him, but never present when he was completely alone. He knew it was him, and he considered asking Sawyer what in the hell he thought he was doing, stalking him on a daily basis and never saying a word.
Jack considered a lot of things. It didn’t necessarily mean he followed through with them.
He’d never consciously tried to ignore him—it just seemed to work out that way. He was a busy guy, rarely idle, and he’d have other things on his mind besides the whereabouts of certain survivors who knew how to look right through him. Survivor, singular, actually. Kate didn’t count.
But every few days Sawyer would pull himself from the shadows and approach him like normal, like an everyday occurrence. He needed his bandage changed, his wound checked on—simple things. And each time they kept their heads down, eyes lowered, and Jack swore that Sawyer knew, but didn’t. Jack would count the number of times he touched Sawyer and always made sure they stayed in the single digits. He’d nod, say something to the effect of, “Looks good,” or something mundane along those lines, and Sawyer would smirk and shake the hair out of his eyes, but never spoke. And Jack liked it that way.
Only he didn’t.
///
Sawyer didn’t know when he remembered. It hit him rather suddenly, and the exact moment came and went; he just blinked and it was there, like it had never left.
///
It’s early in the afternoon when Sawyer comes to him today, less than twenty-four hours since his last check-up. When he speaks it makes Jack jump slightly.
“I keep havin’ these…dreams.”
Jack busies himself with nothing, hating the way his palms begin to sweat. He nods out of habit. “Okay. What kind of dreams?”
“The kind that don’t let me sleep.”
He doesn’t face him, and he figures Sawyer’s used to watching his back. “Are you saying you’re having trouble sleeping?”
“Sort of.”
Jack sighs, relieved that it’s something simple again. He rustles through his supplies and shakes out a couple pills into his hand, then stretches his arm out to hand them to Sawyer.
“This oughta take care of it.” He looks at him quickly, a short flick of his eyes upward, but Sawyer stares at Jack’s hand.
“Naw. I don’t need any pills, Doc.”
He pushes Jack’s hand away gently—the first time he’s touched him since…then.
“So why are you here?” It’s not simple after all. Jack clenches his fist around the sedatives, feels his muscles give the barest shiver, and gets his gaze away from Sawyer as fast as he can.
Sawyer’s hand slides through his hair in slow motion and he doesn’t so much sigh as breathe out slow and long around an unsaid thought. His lips press together, forming white lines around the edges.
“I kissed you.” It’s said so offhandedly that Jack blinks.
“What?”
“While I was…out. I remember now.”
Jack laughs as his pulse quietly loses control. “Sawyer, like I said before, you were delirious. There’s no telling what all you thought you said or did.” He rubs his palm along his jaw and pretends to smile.
“No.” Sawyer raises his head slowly. “I remember everythin’. And so do you.”
Jack continues to smile and shake his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, you do.” Sawyer’s not upset or angry at all; if anything, he sounds…lost. Jack keeps waiting for him to take a step toward him, even a small one, but he’s not moving, and Jack’s both thankful and hurt.
“No, I don’t. Is this what you dreamed about, kissing me? Your brain suffered a trauma, and you were in and out of consciousness for five days. Think you might want to reconsider what’s real and what’s not before you go forcing confessions out of people?”
“I’m not forcin’ anythin’ out of you, Doc. I’m just…I’m just tryin’ to remember, ‘s all. And you make me sound like I’m fuckin’ crazy as shit.”
“You’re not crazy. You’re just…confused.” He manages to unclench his fist and offer the sedatives once more. “Take these and get some sleep. You’ll feel better in the end.”
Sawyer looks at the pills, then carefully looks up and straight at Jack. “The end of what?”
He gestures with his other hand, feeling a vague panic crawl inside him. “The end of your insomnia.”
“Insomnia.” Sawyer rolls the word around in a drawl, like he’s never heard it before. “So I take these here pills and I won’t dream anymore?”
Jack shrugs. He’s suddenly lost the ability to breathe deeply. “Sure, for the most part. They’ll knock you right out.”
Sawyer reaches out for Jack’s hand and Jack’s relieved and exhausted and scared, but he’s taking them, he’s taking his out, he’s letting it go—
Cold fingers close around Jack’s wrist and squeeze. Sawyer doesn’t pull Jack to him; rather, he holds him steady as he steps into him, against him, there’s no space left and Jack’s panic is real this time, fully formed. But if he struggles, Sawyer will know.
Deep down, Jack knows it’s too late, but he’s never given up without a fight.
///
“You told me I was all right.” Sawyer can feel his voice falter and he swallows, dropping it into a whisper as his lips skim over the edge on Jack’s mouth. “It’s clear as a bell in my head, Doc.” He wants the sensations that come along with memory, but they’re just out of his reach…
“Of course I said that. I was taking care of you and you were delirious and scared.” Jack’s beginning to shake and tries to cover it up by leaning back, ducking his head and subtly trying to pull away. But Sawyer’s already heard the catch in his breath and the way it’s grown short and shallow.
He remembers.
“I wanted to be safe. Safe and dry.” Sawyer releases his wrist and trails his hand up Jack’s bare arm, over his shoulder and around the back of his neck, while the other presses flat against Jack’s chest, above his heart, where it pounds heavily below the skin.
Even though he’s free, Jack doesn’t move; he lets his lips part and his breath is damp and warm against Sawyer’s chin. They both are still for the moment, chests faintly touching, gazes holding long enough until the tension gets to be too much.
“So I was scared, huh?” He licks his lips and realizes his thumb has started pressing small circles into Jack’s neck. Small, soothing circles.
“Yeah.”
“Why’d you even bother, then?”
“With what?” Jack’s eyes linger somewhere around Sawyer’s lower lip and Sawyer thinks he could just push forward, just a little, and they’d connect.
“With caring.”
And Jack’s shoulders relax and his eyes close as he sighs. “I don’t know.”
But he does know, and so does Sawyer. So he gives that one little push and their mouths slide together, slow and deep and so very familiar. The second he has Jack’s taste back, he knows Jack’s done fighting.
Sawyer’s completely content to let everything move at its own pace, without rush—he’s surprised when Jack breaks away abruptly, panting, and takes Sawyer's head in his hands. His eyes are bright and dark and regretful.
“I didn’t mean to take advantage of you. I…I didn’t mean to.” He flinches at the memory, grits his teeth, and Sawyer feels his fingers flex against his skull. “I’m sorry.”
Sawyer doesn’t know how to respond; he’s not used to apologies. So instead of words, he bites Jack’s lip, sucking hard as he skims his hand down the front of Jack’s jeans.
“Nothin’ to be sorry for.” He growls it into Jack’s neck and cups him through the denim. Jack gives a sharp fuck and it’s the first time Sawyer’s heard him swear.
Soon they’re stumbling back across the dirt floor, a fury of mouths and teeth and hands. Jack tries to shove Sawyer against the cave’s wall, but Sawyer beats him to the punch, grabbing him by the shoulders and pressing him into solid rock, his hand still working his crotch. The button opens and the zipper’s lowered and he’s so relieved that Jack’s a boxer man. They both groan when his hand meets bare, hot flesh, and Jack thrusts once as he frantically strips Sawyer of his shirt. Then he’s nipping at his shoulder, his short nails raking down Sawyer’s chest and his hips setting a heavy rhythm.
It’s midday and the sun is high and anyone could walk in to find them. The thought sits at the back of Sawyer’s brain and he makes it wait a little longer.
He gives Jack a squeeze as his hand twists up to the tip, where it’s all moist heat, and he wants so fucking badly to jerk open his fly and rub himself against him, like before. But not now—he’s gonna give Jack back something in return. It seems like a fair enough trade.
So Sawyer lets his fist jerk him harder, faster, his chest pressing into Jack’s and his fingers curling into his neck. He whispers Jack’s name into his ear right as his teeth sink into the soft flesh, and just like that Jack is crying out and his hips convulse for a moment before he sags against the wall, against Sawyer. He huffs out a shaky breath and presses his forehead to Sawyer’s.
Finally, Sawyer’s eyes close, and he feels a hand stroke his hair.
“Thank you.”
Sawyer smiles. “Welcome, Doc.”
x-posted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
laws_of_eden
Pairing: Jack/Sawyer
Rating: R
Spoilers: Exodus Parts 1 & 2
Summary: Sawyer's memory returns
A/N: the sequel to “Drifting”. It's not completely necessary that you read it first, but it helps :) Many thanks, as usual, to
halfdutch, esp. for the title suggestion. (Wot? The Cure does angst? You jest...*g*)He was having the dream again; the one where callused fingers scrape gently over his cheeks and there’s tension wrapped around something very much like desire. He’s warm, almost too warm, and his lips feel wet and heavy. He pants—breathing is always such a struggle—and all he can think is closer, he has to get closer. A growl of frustration slips out, his fists clench, and he’s answered by easy, Sawyer, it’s okay.
He woke in a cold sweat, Jack’s taste still in his mouth.
///
Jack was being shadowed.
It’d been a day or so since Sawyer had regained consciousness when Jack first felt the stray pair of eyes watching him, but never present when he was completely alone. He knew it was him, and he considered asking Sawyer what in the hell he thought he was doing, stalking him on a daily basis and never saying a word.
Jack considered a lot of things. It didn’t necessarily mean he followed through with them.
He’d never consciously tried to ignore him—it just seemed to work out that way. He was a busy guy, rarely idle, and he’d have other things on his mind besides the whereabouts of certain survivors who knew how to look right through him. Survivor, singular, actually. Kate didn’t count.
But every few days Sawyer would pull himself from the shadows and approach him like normal, like an everyday occurrence. He needed his bandage changed, his wound checked on—simple things. And each time they kept their heads down, eyes lowered, and Jack swore that Sawyer knew, but didn’t. Jack would count the number of times he touched Sawyer and always made sure they stayed in the single digits. He’d nod, say something to the effect of, “Looks good,” or something mundane along those lines, and Sawyer would smirk and shake the hair out of his eyes, but never spoke. And Jack liked it that way.
Only he didn’t.
///
Sawyer didn’t know when he remembered. It hit him rather suddenly, and the exact moment came and went; he just blinked and it was there, like it had never left.
///
It’s early in the afternoon when Sawyer comes to him today, less than twenty-four hours since his last check-up. When he speaks it makes Jack jump slightly.
“I keep havin’ these…dreams.”
Jack busies himself with nothing, hating the way his palms begin to sweat. He nods out of habit. “Okay. What kind of dreams?”
“The kind that don’t let me sleep.”
He doesn’t face him, and he figures Sawyer’s used to watching his back. “Are you saying you’re having trouble sleeping?”
“Sort of.”
Jack sighs, relieved that it’s something simple again. He rustles through his supplies and shakes out a couple pills into his hand, then stretches his arm out to hand them to Sawyer.
“This oughta take care of it.” He looks at him quickly, a short flick of his eyes upward, but Sawyer stares at Jack’s hand.
“Naw. I don’t need any pills, Doc.”
He pushes Jack’s hand away gently—the first time he’s touched him since…then.
“So why are you here?” It’s not simple after all. Jack clenches his fist around the sedatives, feels his muscles give the barest shiver, and gets his gaze away from Sawyer as fast as he can.
Sawyer’s hand slides through his hair in slow motion and he doesn’t so much sigh as breathe out slow and long around an unsaid thought. His lips press together, forming white lines around the edges.
“I kissed you.” It’s said so offhandedly that Jack blinks.
“What?”
“While I was…out. I remember now.”
Jack laughs as his pulse quietly loses control. “Sawyer, like I said before, you were delirious. There’s no telling what all you thought you said or did.” He rubs his palm along his jaw and pretends to smile.
“No.” Sawyer raises his head slowly. “I remember everythin’. And so do you.”
Jack continues to smile and shake his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, you do.” Sawyer’s not upset or angry at all; if anything, he sounds…lost. Jack keeps waiting for him to take a step toward him, even a small one, but he’s not moving, and Jack’s both thankful and hurt.
“No, I don’t. Is this what you dreamed about, kissing me? Your brain suffered a trauma, and you were in and out of consciousness for five days. Think you might want to reconsider what’s real and what’s not before you go forcing confessions out of people?”
“I’m not forcin’ anythin’ out of you, Doc. I’m just…I’m just tryin’ to remember, ‘s all. And you make me sound like I’m fuckin’ crazy as shit.”
“You’re not crazy. You’re just…confused.” He manages to unclench his fist and offer the sedatives once more. “Take these and get some sleep. You’ll feel better in the end.”
Sawyer looks at the pills, then carefully looks up and straight at Jack. “The end of what?”
He gestures with his other hand, feeling a vague panic crawl inside him. “The end of your insomnia.”
“Insomnia.” Sawyer rolls the word around in a drawl, like he’s never heard it before. “So I take these here pills and I won’t dream anymore?”
Jack shrugs. He’s suddenly lost the ability to breathe deeply. “Sure, for the most part. They’ll knock you right out.”
Sawyer reaches out for Jack’s hand and Jack’s relieved and exhausted and scared, but he’s taking them, he’s taking his out, he’s letting it go—
Cold fingers close around Jack’s wrist and squeeze. Sawyer doesn’t pull Jack to him; rather, he holds him steady as he steps into him, against him, there’s no space left and Jack’s panic is real this time, fully formed. But if he struggles, Sawyer will know.
Deep down, Jack knows it’s too late, but he’s never given up without a fight.
///
“You told me I was all right.” Sawyer can feel his voice falter and he swallows, dropping it into a whisper as his lips skim over the edge on Jack’s mouth. “It’s clear as a bell in my head, Doc.” He wants the sensations that come along with memory, but they’re just out of his reach…
“Of course I said that. I was taking care of you and you were delirious and scared.” Jack’s beginning to shake and tries to cover it up by leaning back, ducking his head and subtly trying to pull away. But Sawyer’s already heard the catch in his breath and the way it’s grown short and shallow.
He remembers.
“I wanted to be safe. Safe and dry.” Sawyer releases his wrist and trails his hand up Jack’s bare arm, over his shoulder and around the back of his neck, while the other presses flat against Jack’s chest, above his heart, where it pounds heavily below the skin.
Even though he’s free, Jack doesn’t move; he lets his lips part and his breath is damp and warm against Sawyer’s chin. They both are still for the moment, chests faintly touching, gazes holding long enough until the tension gets to be too much.
“So I was scared, huh?” He licks his lips and realizes his thumb has started pressing small circles into Jack’s neck. Small, soothing circles.
“Yeah.”
“Why’d you even bother, then?”
“With what?” Jack’s eyes linger somewhere around Sawyer’s lower lip and Sawyer thinks he could just push forward, just a little, and they’d connect.
“With caring.”
And Jack’s shoulders relax and his eyes close as he sighs. “I don’t know.”
But he does know, and so does Sawyer. So he gives that one little push and their mouths slide together, slow and deep and so very familiar. The second he has Jack’s taste back, he knows Jack’s done fighting.
Sawyer’s completely content to let everything move at its own pace, without rush—he’s surprised when Jack breaks away abruptly, panting, and takes Sawyer's head in his hands. His eyes are bright and dark and regretful.
“I didn’t mean to take advantage of you. I…I didn’t mean to.” He flinches at the memory, grits his teeth, and Sawyer feels his fingers flex against his skull. “I’m sorry.”
Sawyer doesn’t know how to respond; he’s not used to apologies. So instead of words, he bites Jack’s lip, sucking hard as he skims his hand down the front of Jack’s jeans.
“Nothin’ to be sorry for.” He growls it into Jack’s neck and cups him through the denim. Jack gives a sharp fuck and it’s the first time Sawyer’s heard him swear.
Soon they’re stumbling back across the dirt floor, a fury of mouths and teeth and hands. Jack tries to shove Sawyer against the cave’s wall, but Sawyer beats him to the punch, grabbing him by the shoulders and pressing him into solid rock, his hand still working his crotch. The button opens and the zipper’s lowered and he’s so relieved that Jack’s a boxer man. They both groan when his hand meets bare, hot flesh, and Jack thrusts once as he frantically strips Sawyer of his shirt. Then he’s nipping at his shoulder, his short nails raking down Sawyer’s chest and his hips setting a heavy rhythm.
It’s midday and the sun is high and anyone could walk in to find them. The thought sits at the back of Sawyer’s brain and he makes it wait a little longer.
He gives Jack a squeeze as his hand twists up to the tip, where it’s all moist heat, and he wants so fucking badly to jerk open his fly and rub himself against him, like before. But not now—he’s gonna give Jack back something in return. It seems like a fair enough trade.
So Sawyer lets his fist jerk him harder, faster, his chest pressing into Jack’s and his fingers curling into his neck. He whispers Jack’s name into his ear right as his teeth sink into the soft flesh, and just like that Jack is crying out and his hips convulse for a moment before he sags against the wall, against Sawyer. He huffs out a shaky breath and presses his forehead to Sawyer’s.
Finally, Sawyer’s eyes close, and he feels a hand stroke his hair.
“Thank you.”
Sawyer smiles. “Welcome, Doc.”
x-posted to
laws_of_eden
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And that icon couldn't be more perfect.
1111 ;-D
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You. Are my hero.
Can I be Robin, Batman?
*snogs*
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Just fucking GUH.
What a damn perfect sequel to a damn amazing fic. I loved it ever so very much.
Again with the guh.
Loved it! :)
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Thanks, babe. And I mean that A LOT.
<3
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The last couple of lines were just a perfect ending.
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loved. the dialogue. the hidden feelings. the smut. PERFECT!
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Glad you managed to get it out, after having problems earlier (believe me, I know what that's like). Very hot. :D
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I liked the tension and the uncertainty and that little sliver of guilt from Jack. Plus it was hot so I should probably add a "guh" right about here: Guh!
And thats about all my half awake brain can say right now. Ooh 'cept that I really like this line:
He woke in a cold sweat, Jack’s taste still in his mouth.
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*pets you*
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Ah, yes. I am so in love with Jack/Sawyer. LOL. What, like this is new? No, it's not new, but yes... I do feel the need to say that every now and again.
Lovely follow up, yes it is. And I like how calm Sawyer is in it. Just accepting it. And I aww'd a bit when Jack apologized for taking advantage of him. Poor Doc, don't you know he loved it? Well... now you do anyway.
More fic! I want more fic! Grrr. <- that's my threatening growl, it's saying write more fic or I'll... I don't know, be sad?
I'm in an extremely tired, weird mood... you'll have to excuse this comment really.
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Keep the smut wagon going!!
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Love,
xxx
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LOVE this. <333
It's somewhat unnerving, in a "gets under your skin" kind of way. The tension surges so palpably, I was rather breathless myself. ;)
It's wonderful on it's on. But as a resolution to "Drifting," it's even more delicious.
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Kay, I'm done. :D Danke!
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*snogs*
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In all seriousness, I can only imagine how difficult it is to write and like it and have the balls to share it (there's a reason I don't write fic). Anyway, point is: mad props.
>:D
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