Summary: All you need to know is Sawyer is injured, smut ensues (again)
Note: Blame (thank?) foxxcub because she turned my fic world topsy turvy with her smokin' "Quid Pro Quo." BallsyJack isn't mine, I'm just playing with him.
Disclaimer: Ah, if only they were mine.
It was just a momentary misstep, a slight twist to the side, and then -- wham -- it felt like someone had wrenched Sawyer’s leg in one direction, and the rest of him in another. Sawyer fell over, gasping at the pain, reluctant to get up. If he hadn’t been running like an idiot, spooked by some stupid noise in the jungle, then he wouldn’t be lying here in the middle of nowhere with a goddamn pulled groin muscle.
He stood up slowly, telling himself not to be a pussy, even as tears came to his eyes.
He grimaced and swore and hobbled his way back to camp, his torqued muscle protesting every step. He stumbled noisily into Jack’s cave. “Doc! Whatta you got for a wounded man?”
Jack was organizing his pill bottles and looked at Sawyer with open annoyance. “What is it, Sawyer?” he asked impatiently.
“Fucked up my leg,” Sawyer said, hopping closer. “You got anything for that? It hurts like a motherfucker.”
“Sit down,” Jack said, but he didn’t move to help Sawyer. “Where does it hurt?”
Sawyer indicated his upper right thigh. “I pulled it, I think,” he said, wincing as Jack put his hands on him.
“Does that hurt?” Jack asked, pressing his fingers into Sawyer’s thigh.
“Yes!” Sawyer hissed. “Goddammit! Yes, it hurts!” he yelped as Jack kept up his not very careful examination.
“Well, looks like you pulled a groin muscle,” Jack said, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “Normally, I’d say to ice it but we don’t have any ice.”
“So that’s it? That’s all you gonna do for me?” Sawyer asked indignantly. “I can barely walk. I’m crippled!”
“Don’t be melodramatic,” Jack said, his forehead furrowing in disapproval. “Yeah, it’s painful, but you’re hardly crippled.”
“Really nice, doc,” Sawyer scowled. “Anyone else comes in here, you bend over backwards. But since it’s me, you can’t be bothered.” Jack looked unmoved. “Don’t you have any Ben-Gay or painkillers or anything?”
“Fresh out,” Jack said, giving him a cold, level stare.
“Jesus!” Sawyer protested. “Didn’t you take an oath to help people?”
“I don’t have anything for this, Sawyer,” Jack said, and Sawyer wanted to hit him when he realized that he was practically smirking. “You’ll just have to tough it out.”
“Fine,” Sawyer said, shooting him a death glare. He got to his feet, swearing as he did so. He started to limp off, plotting all the truly terrible things he could do to Jack, when he heard, “Wait!”
He paused, swiveling his head around. “Yeah?”
Jack had his hands on his hips and had lost his smirk. “Listen, I’ve thought of something you can do.”
“I’m listening,” Sawyer said, bracing himself against the wall rather than continue to stand on one leg.
“You can numb that muscle up if you get it in cold water. So find the coldest water you can and go stand in it.”
Sawyer curled his lip. “So you’re basically telling me to go jump in a lake?”
Jack laughed. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Great, so I’ll just go hiking off to the nearest alpine fuckin’ lake. No problem, doc.”
“Sawyer,” Jack sighed. “I’ll help you.”
“Jesus. About fuckin’ time!” Sawyer muttered.
“What was that?” Jack asked, with an expression that said he heard all too well.
“Nothin,” Sawyer said with an angelic smile.
Jack packed up some water, food, and a bedroll and they set out, with Sawyer leaning on Jack and limping awkwardly. It took them about an hour to reach the lagoon that Kate and Sawyer had gone swimming in. They didn’t make small talk on the way.
“OK, in you go,” Jack instructed Sawyer. Still leaning on Jack for support, Sawyer shucked off his shirt and shoes. He took off his belt, but kept his jeans on as he waded in. The water was warm, about as warm as his own body, probably.
“You’re surprisingly modest, Sawyer,” Jack said, clearly amused. “You always go swimming in your jeans?”
“What do you care?” Sawyer grumped. “I ain’t got anything on under here.”
“I don’t care,” Jack said, rolling his eyes. “But it’s your funeral if you want to sit around in wet jeans. And aren’t they awfully heavy?”
“You seem awful interesting in seein’ me naked,” Sawyer said, giving Jack a suspicious look. He was now up to his chest in the water. He tried to see if he could float without using his bad leg.
“You’ve got to submerge that leg,” Jack instructed. “Go over there. In the shade. Where it’s colder.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Sawyer muttered. He moved to a sunless spot where the water was indeed cold. He stood there for about 20 minutes, and slowly the throbbing pain in his thigh seemed to lessen. But now he was feeling chilled all over. He was torn. Stay and get the maximum numbing effect from the water or be a wimp and get out and warm himself up. He opted to stay.
He shot a glance over to the bank, where Jack had stripped off his shirt and was lying on a rock, sunning himself.
“You enjoyin’ yourself, doc?” Sawyer called.
“Mmm hmm.” Jack didn’t bother to glance over.
“The water’s f-f-fine,” Sawyer added, chagrined to find that his teeth were chattering. Jesus, this was a tropical island, but where he was standing was probably only 70 degrees and felt like 50. He tried moving his leg and it still screamed at him, but it was much better than it had been.
“Hey, doc, I think it’s working,” he shouted.
Jack sat up and looked his way. “Good.” He stood up and stripped down to his boxers and dove in. He surfaced, shaking the water out of his hair. “Oh, that feels good,” he said, more to himself than to Sawyer. “Stay there,” he said, in that “do this” tone of voice that always rubbed Sawyer the wrong way.
With a few effortless strokes, he had reached Sawyer, walking where the water got shallow enough to stand. He reached his hand under the water and took Sawyer’s thigh in his hands without warning.
“Easy, doc,” Sawyer said, instinctively drawing back at the uninvited contact, but swearing when he aggravated his leg again.
“Relax,” Jack said. “And hold still.” He ran his hands over Sawyer’s leg, accidentally brushing his crotch.
Sawyer took a deep breath, but didn’t say anything. Suddenly he was aware of how close Jack was standing to him, of the water glistening off his chest, of how warm he seemed. Of those hands, dear God. Sawyer shivered.
“How does it feel now?” Jack asked, looking up to meet Sawyer’s gaze, his hands still on Sawyer’s thigh.
“Not bad,” Sawyer said, his voice husky. He was starting to wish the good doctor would shift his hands over just a few inches. He licked his lips, which suddenly seemed ridiculously dry.
“You’re a real handful, Sawyer, you know that?” Jack said staring into Sawyer’s eyes. “Why do you always cause me so much trouble?” And holyfuckingod, his hand moved over those precious few inches.
Sawyer inhaled sharply, holding his breath to see what Jack was going to do next. He didn’t break his stare with Jack, even when Jack unzipped Sawyer’s jeans. Oh my God, is he really going to..? Sawyer closed his eyes as Jack drew his cock out of his jeans. He leaned against him, draping one arm over Jack’s shoulders and panting in his ear as Jack began to stroke him, sending waves of water circling around them both with each stroke.
“How does that feel?” Jack said, his voice so low it rumbled in his throat.
Sawyer’s eyes widened. “Doc, I ... wow...”
“Call me Jack.” It was an order, not a request.
“Jack. Jesus fuckin’ Christ, JACK!” Sawyer moaned as Jack tightened his grip and increased his pace.
“You’re not going to be any more trouble, are you?” Jack said, stilling his hand and stepping away from Sawyer.
“What?” Sawyer protested, more confused than angry. His first impulse was to get Jack and those skilled doctor’s hands back here by any means necessary. But then his eyes narrowed and he gave him a contemptuous look. “You wanna play games? I don’t need this shit.” He turned with every intention of stalking off haughtily, but succeeded only in twisting his injured muscle. He froze, swearing under his breath.
Jack waded back over to him and put a hand on Sawyer’s waist. “You don’t need anything, do you Sawyer? You don’t need anyone.” Jack’s hand hovered over his thigh and Sawyer tensed, not sure if he intended to hurt him or help him.
“That’s right,” Sawyer said, glaring and gritting his teeth against the pain. “I don’t.”
Jack gave him a knowing, insufferable smile. “So if I just left you here, that would be fine with you.”
Sawyer snorted. “Go ahead. I don’t give a flyin’ fuck.”
Jack squinted at him as the late afternoon light broke through the trees overhead. “I might just do that.” He raised an eyebrow and smiled, a wicked smile that Sawyer thought would look more at home on him. When the hell did Jack get to be so ballsy, Sawyer wondered.
He made a move to walk away again when Jack leaned in, his stubble scraping Sawyer’s cheek. “You say you don’t need this. But do you want it?” he whispered, his hand moving teasingly over Sawyer’s cock.
Sawyer’s mouth fell open, finding it hard to breathe as Jack’s hand claimed him again, moving rhythmically below the water. The doctor’s other hand gripped Sawyer’s shoulder firmly, as if to keep him in place. But Sawyer wasn’t going anywhere now.
Jack stopped again and Sawyer groaned in protest, shooting a pained look at him. “Do you want this?” Jack asked again, and Sawyer felt his willpower giving way to desire.
“Yes. Jesus. Yes, Jack,” he gasped. Anything, anything to finish what he started, Sawyer told himself.
“That’s better,” Jack said. Before picking up where he left off, he whispered in Sawyer’s ear. “Do you want me to make you come?”
“Sweet Jesus, YES!,” Sawyer said, unable to resist the urge to lick Jack’s neck. yesjackgodplease. As Jack’s hand closed around him once again, he clung to Jack and alternately bit and kissed his way up Jack’s neck until he had his earlobe in his mouth, gently worrying it with his teeth, stopping only to catch his breath between pants. He was so close now, so very fucking close that he could already feel his eyes rolling back in his head.
Jack held him firmly by the waist as he came, anticipating somehow that Sawyer’s knees would give out, that he’d collapse against him and cry out in pain and pleasure at the same time.
As Sawyer waited for his heart to stop thudding and the world to stop spinning as he rested against Jack’s solidly muscled chest, his mind zeroed in on how hard Jack was through his boxer shorts.
He moved his hand from Jack’s waist, slipping it through the opening in his boxers and taking him in his hand. He grinned at Jack’s intake of breath. “You see, you play nice with me, I play nice with you,” Sawyer purred. “That’s all I ever wanted.”
He shivered as Jack started to moan and go limp against him now. He felt his own cock stir as he saw the pulse in Jack’s throat start to go wild. As Sawyer’s hand sped up, Jack swallowed hard several times, licked his lips and swore and then he swore some more, his hands digging into Sawyer’s back.
As if he couldn’t control himself anymore, Jack took Sawyer’s head in his hands and crushed his mouth against his. Sawyer’s mouth opened to him, surprised by just how much he wanted this too. How much he fucking wanted Jack and wanted Jack to want him. Somehow the kiss made it more than a release, made it something he wouldn’t just brush off later.
He gripped Jack’s ass and pulled ruthlessly on his cock, pulling him closer to him, and Jack came with a strangled cry.
Jack fell against him and Sawyer yelped at the sudden weight put on his injured thigh. Sawyer tried to shift his balance but they both fell over heavily, sinking under the surface.
Sawyer took in a mouthful of water as he gasped at the wrench to his groin. In an instant, Jack had him up and was pounding on his back, making sure he was coughing up all the water he had inhaled.
“You OK?” Jack asked, intently waiting for his answer.
Sawyer nodded. Finally he spluttered. “Well, I can’t say I’m feelin’ no pain, but all things considered, yeah.” He closed his eyes and shook his head like a dog, much to Jack’s amusement.
“OK, let’s get out,” Jack said, still smiling, helping Sawyer walk to the shore. Then he helped him lay down on the bedroll.
Sawyer looked at Jack with new eyes as he nonchalantly stripped off his wet boxers and pulled on his pants. The doc was full of surprises, and this one had been a honey.
“So, I think you should camp up here for a few days so you can go in the water a few times a day and keep the swelling down,” Jack said, suddenly all business again.
Sawyer blinked at the abrupt switch. “OK, doc.”
Jack unzipped his backpack and pulled out a tube that he tossed to Sawyer. “Shit, Ben-Gay,” Sawyer said, reading the label. “You been holding out on me, doc.”
“Call me Jack.”
“OK, Jack. Hey, where are you going?”
“Back to camp,” Jack said, hoisting the backpack on his shoulders. “You’ve got water, food, you’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, sure thing,” Sawyer replied, his eyes growing hard as Jack started to walk off. That jackass was really leaving him here alone after all. How the hell would he ever get back?
“See you tomorrow,” Jack threw out over his shoulder.
A grin broke out over Sawyer’s face. “See you. Jack,” he said too quietly for him to hear. His jeans felt heavy and wet, just as Jack had said. Well, he wouldn’t wear them tomorrow.