Note: Fic for the fabulous queen foxxcub, who requested boy kissing.
Jack was always a light sleeper, always quick to react to the slightest noise. Even when he could fall asleep here, he was likely to be woken up in the middle of the night with some emergency and he'd stagger to his feet, groggy but functioning, denying he ever needed anything like a full night's rest.
But, somehow, tonight he slept like the dead, oblivious to the sounds of the surf or the snatches of conversation that drifted over from the cluster of people gathered around the signal fire.
He'd fallen asleep as soon as his aching body hit the bed. Another day he was glad to put behind him was the last thought that crossed his mind.
He didn't wake until someone was already in his tent, leaning over him, so close he could feel their breath on his cheek. He started awake, adrenaline flooding him as he registered that something was wrong. Whoever it was didn't call his name, didn't mutter the usual apologies for waking him, didn't blurt out where and why he was needed.
He tried to sit up, but a firm, warm hand pressing against his bare chest stopped him. "Don't move," came the low warning. Sawyer. His voice was harsh, a note in it Jack had never heard before. His heart sped up. This was no friendly visit. Sawyer has the guns, he reminded himself, and he tensed, waiting for some sort of demand.
"Sawyer, what the fuck ...?!"
"Shhh," Sawyer pushed him all the way down. "Don't talk."
Jack could only assume Sawyer had a gun on him, even though it was too dark to even be sure it was Sawyer. He could only play along, see what Sawyer wanted.
"Uhhh, hey ..." Jack started to say when Sawyer moved his hand to Jack's hip. His hand kept moving, easing now onto Jack's thigh.
Sawyer bit off each word, dropping them separately into Jack's ear. "Don't. Talk." It was an order Jack was having trouble obeying when he felt Sawyer's hand on his crotch.
Instead, he hissed in a breath, sure, even in the dark, that Sawyer was smiling, pleased to get a reaction out of him. Control, that's what this was about, Jack realized as Sawyer tugged at his zipper. He's just seeing how far he can go, he's not going to...
Oh, but he did.
Sawyer wrapped his hand around Jack's cock in a familiar, possessive grip, like Jack had told him just how he liked to be touched. Like Jack had showed him. It was the shock of how good it felt, how insanely right that kept Jack from shoving Sawyer's hand away. That and the gun.
"Nnnggaah," was the approximate sound that escaped Jack's throat. His hips thrust up of their own accord, his head falling back in shameless abandon. He dug his hands into the blanket, gripping so hard he thought he'd tear it, as Sawyer played his thumb over the head of his cock. In slow, teasing swipes with the pad of his thumb, Sawyer spread the drops of moisture there in wider and wider circles, until his fingers were slick enough to slide down the shaft.
So hard. So hard. Oh GOD. Jack's cock throbbed, aching desperately for release, and he had to bite his lip when Sawyer trailed a single finger down its underside. His cock quivered, traitorously obeying Sawyer's lightest touch.
It was all he could do not to beg Sawyer to fucking finish this. His moan of frustration spoke for him; Sawyer gripped him so hard he cried out.
It was only then, with Jack gasping wordlessly, completely in Sawyer's control, that Sawyer kissed him.
Jack's mouth was already open and ready, panting through the tremors of pleasure Sawyer was sending through him. Sawyer teased his tongue over Jack's lips before claiming him with a kiss that was maddening in its slowness. Jack's breath came faster, the aching, slow tease of the kiss contrasting with the strong, masterful strokes of Sawyer's hand.
He was shaking badly now, his whole body trembling on the edge of release.
"Now." Sawyer's voice was nothing more than a growl in his ear. "Come now."
Just three words, but the effect was electric.
A moan shuddered through him and then it hit, as hard and merciless as being pounded against the shore, caught in the rush of the incoming tide. He fought through it, soaked and gasping for air when it finally subsided.
It wasn't until he felt Sawyer's other hand in his hair that he realized there was no gun. If he was honest with himself, he had to admit he never really thought Sawyer had one.
He threw his hands over his face, glad now for the darkness. Except he wasn't embarrassed. He was furious.
"Sawyer," Jack said sternly, sitting up, poking a finger at the approximate location of Sawyer's chest. "You can't just come into a man's tent and ..."
"Make him come?" He could picture Sawyer's quirked eyebrow, hear the barely concealed laughter in his voice.
"No." Jack was, ridiculously, on the verge of breaking into giggles. "You can't."
"Think I just did, Doc. And don't tell me I shouldn't've."
"Well, there's only one thing for me to do," Jack sighed. He pushed hard and unexpectedly against Sawyer, knocking him onto his back.
Before Sawyer could react, Jack had straddled him. He held his shoulders down with the heels of his hands and maneuvered his knees onto Sawyer's arms, effectively pinning him. "Payback."
But unlike Sawyer, he was going to do this right and start with a kiss. He leaned down as Sawyer arched up. "Don't move," Jack ordered. He grinned into the darkness as Sawyer froze, waiting for Jack to come to him, to do with him whatever he wanted.