Pairing: Tom/Jack, Jack/Sawyer
Summary: Someone has a crush on Jack
Note: Did someone ask for Tom/Jack? (Although this is really a Jack/Sawyer fic. And a silly one at that.) Burning off my fanfic100 prompt "Breakfast"
Spoilers: Mild spoiler for "Not in Portland"
The morning after the surgery, Jack woke to find a small, potted hibiscus flower on the other side of the glass. The pink bloom hardly helped dispel the gloom of his underground prison. But he had to wonder who put it there. It didn’t exactly seem like something Juliet would do, but he couldn’t think who else might have left it.
The next day, the tantalizing smell of fresh-brewed coffee woke him. On his food tray was a mug full of hot coffee, a small pitcher of cream, a bowl of strawberries, and a plate of scrambled eggs. Jack wanted to savor each bite, but he couldn’t help wolfing it down. He was a little ashamed of himself afterward since he could only assume his unknown benefactor was watching him enjoy his breakfast.
And so it continued. One day it was a book, "The Collected Works of Tennessee Williams." The next day a blanket and pillow. He was glad for each gift, but they were beginning to make him nervous. Something was expected from him in return and he had no idea what that might be. Until now, it had been his captors’ way to threaten and intimidate, rather than just come out and ask directly for whatever they wanted. Adding gifts to the equation made no sense.
Most troubling was that he didn’t know how he kept missing the moment when whomever it was turned up in his cell. He never felt safe or comfortable here, but to know that someone was sneaking in while he was asleep made him feel even more vulnerable. A fact trebled by the discovery the next morning of a pair of bright red briefs, neatly laid out on the slab next to him.
He threw them across the room, his hand going to his mouth. There was no question about it now. Jack was being wooed and none of the possible suspects remotely appealed to him. It certainly wasn’t Juliet’s way to be so coy. If she’d wanted him, he had a good idea she’d just taser him, tie him up, and then have her way with him once he came to. Ben ... was still recuperating, he told himself firmly, shuddering at the thought. He really couldn’t think of anyone else
After running over every detail of his last few mornings, he assured himself that nothing had happened, or he would surely have known. His admirer was apparently content just to leave the presents and tiptoe away, but God knows how long he had before the situation escalated.
That night, he vowed to stay awake and catch his mystery admirer in the act. He concluded he must have been being drugged each night, so didn’t eat his dinner or drink anything before pretending to sleep. Jack had no idea what time it was when he heard the door open. He stayed as still as possible, holding his breath while someone crept into the room. It was never completely dark in his cell, so he could make out the tall, ungainly silhouette clearly enough.
He hadn’t meant to speak, but his surprise was too great. “So it’s you?”
Tom let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, it’s me. I ... guess I’m kinda shy.” The lights flickered on and there Tom stood, a sheepish expression on his face.
“Yeah, well, thanks for the gifts, I’m just, uh, not sure what you...”
And then Jack saw what Tom had brought tonight, a little tube with some familiar lettering. “K-Y Jelly?”
“It’s not what you think,” Tom said, waving his hand. “It’s for you. I mean, just you. I wasn’t gonna .... unless you...”
Seeing Jack’s outraged expression, he trailed off. He looked down at the floor, and then, in a rush of words, tried again to explain himself. “I just thought you’re alone here all the time and you might get lonely and ...”
“Not that lonely!” Jack protested. “What the fuck? You thought I would jack off with all these cameras on me?”
Tom shrugged, an embarrassed smile tugging at his ruddy cheeks. “A guy can hope. And actually,” he said with a wave of his hand, “they’re off right now.”
Jack laughed, that angry exasperated laugh of his that always came out when what he really wanted to do was punch someone. “I see you’ve thought of everything. Except to see if I’m interested. Which I most certainly am not.”
Tom didn’t react the way he thought he would. Just kept smiling, like what Jack said didn’t really mean anything. “There is something I can give you that I know you want.”
“Yeah, if it involves the K-Y jelly, no thanks!” Jack started to sweat, just a little. If the cameras were off, there’d be no one else to come to his rescue. Not that anyone would care, if Tom decided to overpower him. But Jack wasn’t going down without a fight. He started circling, trying to keep the slab he slept on between him and Tom.
“Now Jack, hear me out. I can get you out of here.”
Jack stopped briefly, then, deciding that Tom was lying, kept circling. “Right. And just what would I have to do?”
“You could model those red briefs I got you,” Tom answered, a little wistfully.
“Those skimpy things? No dice.”
“C’mon, Jack. It’s a small price to pay for your freedom.”
“And that’s where it would stop? You brought fucking lubricant. I’m not an idiot.”
“I swear,” Tom said, crossing his heart with one hand. “Just put them on and then I take you to the boat and bring you back to your friends.”
“Are you insane? Why would I trust you?” Jack shouted. “You’re the one who shot Sawyer!”
Tom flinched at the name. “Well, you’re sore at me, I get it. I know what he means to you and all I can say is I’m real sorry about that.”
Jack felt like he was missing something but he also sensed that Tom was handing him an unexpected card that he could play. “You should be,” was all he said, crossing his arms and regarding him sternly.
“I just figured, after you saw him with Kate, that, well, you might feel differently about him now.”
“So you think you have me figured out?” Jack scolded, still trying to puzzle out what the hell Tom was getting at.
“It hasn't exactly been hard to figure out,” Tom sighed. “I saw the way you shielded him there at the fire when I told you not to cross that line. And then that look you got on your face when you heard him yelling here.”
Jack felt queasy, hearing that Tom had been watching him so closely, for so long. It was almost more disturbing than the gifts in the middle of the night and the damn lube and underwear.
“And then you kept asking about him. And of course you only did the surgery to save his life.”
Jack put his hand over his mouth, dumbfounded that Tom could take these isolated incidents and jump to a conclusion that was so completely wrong.
Tom kept talking, his chin jutting out stubbornly. “He doesn’t deserve you. Not if he would throw you over for her so fast. I’d never do that.”
“Yeah, well, that’s touching,” Jack half laughed, half snorted. “But what can I say?” Jack seized his opportunity. Tom might think he was on the same team, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to play ball with him. “I love the guy.”
Tom let out a deep, disappointed sigh. “Shit. Well, it’s your funeral. You’re never even going to see him again, you know that, right?”
“Yeah, I know,” Jack dropped his head, pretending to mourn having lost his one true love.
“Aww, fuck it,” Tom declared. “I can’t believe I’m doing this, but if you really love him, I’m not gonna stand in the way. I’ll bring you over there.”
“You will?” Jack didn’t have to fake his surprise and that surge of hope he felt.
“Yeah, yeah,” Tom sighed. “But only if you can show me he loves you too. Otherwise, I’m bringing you back here and you’ll realize you’re better off without him.”
Jack stood stock still for a few seconds, wondering how he could possibly pull that off. But he’d deal with it later. He’d be an idiot not to take this one chance for escape. “You’re on,” he said, forcing a smile.
“Great. We’ll get going. Right after you put the underwear on.”
“No briefs, no Sawyer.”
“Fine!” Jack harrumphed. He grabbed the skimpy red briefs from where he’d thrown them. As quickly as he could, ignoring the big grin spreading over Tom’s face, he stripped off his shirt and jeans and his own boxers. He stepped into the briefs, only realizing it was a thong when he reached to arrange material that wasn’t there. “Oh for...” he started to mutter, but a deal was a deal.
“Turn around,” Tom ordered, and Jack, flushing as red as the underwear, did as he was told. Goosebumps rose on his arms and legs, as much from nervousness as cold. He glanced down. These didn't leave much to the imagination. Their sole purpose was to accentuate what God gave him and none too subtly. He had to admit, the damn thing looked good on him, but being ogled like some Playmate was not his idea of fun. He was just about to call the whole thing off when Tom spoke after a long, uncomfortable pause.
“I just hope Sawyer appreciates this,” Tom sighed, throwing his clothes at him. “I’m keeping these,” he announced, waving Jack’s boxers. As he dressed, Jack tried desperately not to picture what sordid scenes they were going to be involved in.
Tom was as good as his word. He silently led Jack out of the Hydra hatch without incident, and down to the boat. They pushed off without starting the motor at first but once they hit open water, Tom fired it up. They were at the other island in no time. Tom anchored the motorboat and then lowered a smaller boat by which they paddled to the shore. They waded ashore and quietly crept to the small line of tents along the beach.
“So if Sawyer says he’s going to stay with you and not Kate, you’re both free. But if he’s with Kate...”
“He won’t be,” Jack hastily assured him, knowing no such thing. He was busy thinking of ways to outwit or overpower Tom. He had a gun strapped to his belt and while Jack suspected Tom wouldn’t shoot the object of his affection, he wanted a plan before he simply tried to tackle the guy.
Jack was so preoccupied with possible strategies that when they practically tripped over Sawyer -- sprawled out on the beach like his usual, lazy self -- he had no idea at all how to explain the situation.
“Jack!” Sawyer exclaimed, leaping to his feet. He tensed when he saw Tom. “What the fuck is this?”
“Jailbreak,” Jack grinned. He hadn’t even let himself think about what this homecoming would be like but now he was immeasurably glad to see Sawyer again. He stepped forward and wrapped him in a rough embrace. He took the opportunity to whisper in Sawyer’s ear. “You have to tell me you love me...”
Perhaps that wasn’t the right way to go about it, because Sawyer stepped back abruptly, pushing Jack away. “I what?”
“Aww, no kiss hello, boys?” Tom said and Jack had no choice but to take Sawyer’s head in his hands and go in for a kiss. He could only hope that the death glare he gave Sawyer as he moved in was message enough to play along.
He crushed his mouth against Sawyer’s while keeping a vice-like grip on his head. Sawyer, to his horror, kept moving backwards, but Jack just moved with him, not letting him go. He had to sell this kiss, so he showed Sawyer no mercy. The poor man never knew what hit him because why else would he finally give in, opening his mouth to Jack with a sharp intake of breath? And why else would he use his tongue like that, tickling Jack’s upper lip in that maddeningly teasing way?
After a few minutes -- Jack had stopped counting -- he came up for air. This had to convince even Tom.
He turned to face Tom, hands still gripping Sawyer’s face. “Satisfied?”
Tom regarded them skeptically, arms crossed. “Honestly? No.”
“What the fuck’s goin’ on?” Sawyer demanded, sounding curiously breathless. “Jack?”
“Tom here isn’t convinced that you really love me,” Jack said, turning so that only Sawyer could see his face. He raised and lowered his eyebrows like semaphore flags, hoping that Sawyer was bright enough to realize what was at stake here.
Sawyer stared at him like he’d gone mad. “And what the fuck business is that of his?”
Tom tapped Sawyer on the shoulder, eliciting an eat-shit-and-die glare. “Because I don’t think you’re good enough for Jack. This whole business with Kate, for instance.”
Sawyer looked from Tom to Jack, and then back again. “A man ain’t picky who he sleeps with if he’s about to die.”
“Try telling Jack that,” Tom muttered.
“What?” Jack asked sharply.
“Never mind. Listen. I’m not convinced. Unless you two can prove you’re as in love as you say you are, Jack’s ass is coming back with me.”
“Like hell,” Sawyer growled, shoving Jack aside in his eagerness to get at Tom.
Tom calmly drew his gun and pointed it Sawyer’s head. “That your tent over there?”
“Yeah,” Sawyer admitted reluctantly.
“How about you two get in there and give me some proof of this all-consuming love of yours?”
Jack grabbed Tom’s wrist. “Look, this is ridiculous. Sawyer doesn’t love me, okay? This was all just to get you to let me go. Take me back, I don’t care. Just don’t hurt him.”
“Is this true?” Tom demanded.
Sawyer glared. “You are takin’ him back over my dead body.”
“So do you love him?”
Sawyer looked up to the heavens. “That is none of your goddamn business.”
Tom stared Sawyer down for another few seconds, and then he lowered his gun. “Oh, who the hell am I to stand in the way of true love?”
He waved the gun at Sawyer one last time. “You just better treat him, right? Okay?”
“Yeah, sure,” Sawyer said, holding up his hands, palms-out. “Now are you gonna leave us the hell alone?”
Tom nodded, defeated. He reached out to squeeze Jack’s arm fondly. He slipped his last present into Jack's hand and strolled off in the direction of the boat.
Once he was out of earshot, Jack finally breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh my God, Sawyer. I am so sorry about that. I can’t thank you enough for playing along.”
“Who says I was playin?” Sawyer grinned, flashing those dimples Jack had thought he’d never see again.
“Ha, good one,” Jack laughed. “Damn, but it’s good to be back. I even think I missed you.”
He was still speaking the last word when Sawyer took his face in his hands and kissed him. The shock of Sawyer’s tongue insistently pushing inside his mouth slowly spread to the rest of his body until he was tingling all over. With a start, he realized that Sawyer’s thigh was pressing between his legs. And that Sawyer was hard.
“What is this?” he asked breathlessly. There was nothing between him and Sawyer. Except his dick apparently hadn't gotten the message, because he was just as hard as Sawyer. And very glad for that K-Y Jelly right about now. Somehow, without his realizing it, Tom had been right all along.
“Promised to treat you right,” Sawyer answered, resting his forehead against Jack’s. “Thought I’d start by welcoming you home.”
Jack was too dizzy to protest when Sawyer led him up the hill to his tent. He ducked his head, already anticipating Sawyer’s reaction to the red thong. He sent a silent thanks Tom’s way.