halfdutch (halfdutch) wrote,

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You Only Live Once (Part 2)

Title: You Only Live Once (2/4)
Summary: AU - Jack’s a priest, held hostage by escaped death row convicts Sawyer and Kate
Rating: Hard R/Lite NC-17 for smut, language, priest manhandling
Extremely Boring Note: I am posting without all my betas weighing in because my Internet access has been a bit wonky due to the LA rain. And I am going out of town for a few days. So - if anything is egregious, I will fix later. Write hard, post fast, and leave town is my motto this week. Vroom!

(Part 1)
The road leading away from the prison was an isolated one. Few cars passed them. There was no sign of pursuit and Jack could see Sawyer and Kate’s moods lift as the minutes ticked by. There was no news of their escape on the radio, and after a while she tuned in a classic rock station at Sawyer’s request. He closed his eyes and nodded contentedly to himself when a Led Zeppelin song came on.

“Look alive,” she said, tossing back a pair of handcuffs to Sawyer, who caught them one-handed. “Took them off the guard.”

“Good thinkin’,” Sawyer said with an approving nod. “Hey, Mr. Preacher, you ever been cuffed before?” he chuckled.

“No,” Jack replied quietly, his eyes on Sawyer’s hands while he twirled the metal bracelets.

“First time for everything. Face the window,” Sawyer ordered, pushing Jack’s face against the glass. “Hands.” Before Jack could react, Sawyer had pulled his hands behind his back and snapped the cuffs on. He shoved him roughly back against the seat. With Jack restrained, Sawyer visibly relaxed. He leaned back, running his hands through his hair. He looked out the window at the passing countryside and shook his head slightly.

“Dammit, girl, we did it!” he whooped. “Fuckin’ cheated death!” He punched the back of the front seat several times. He grabbed a shocked Jack and kissed him on the lips. “Woo!” He laughed at Jack’s surprise. “Damn, it feels good to be alive!”

Kate glanced back in the rearview mirror. “Sawyer, you fucking lunatic! You’ve been locked up too long,” she laughed. She tilted the mirror to get a better look at Jack. “Although I can’t blame you. That sure is one pretty priest.”

Jack could only see her eyes in the mirror, but her bold gaze made him even more uncomfortable than he already was. He dropped his head, wishing himself far away, trying to tune out the harsh laughter of his captors. He began to pray silently, “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done.”

“Ah, now you’ve embarrassed him,” Sawyer said, punching Jack on the shoulder. Jack ignored him and Sawyer turned his attention back to Kate.

“Babe, you got any idea where we’re goin’?”

“Nowhere fast?”

Jack tuned back in. They really didn’t seem to have a plan. He didn’t know whether that was good or bad for him. They were impulsive, dangerous. He wondered what they would do with him. They didn’t seem likely to let him go.

“We need some new clothes,” Kate was saying. “These uniforms are a dead giveaway.”

“Yeah, any malls still open, ya think?”

“Yes. Let’s do some shopping,” Kate said, pulling the car over to the shoulder. Kate got out and took out the gun she’d confiscated from the officer and trained it on Jack. “Cuff him to the wheel,” she told Sawyer, who grabbed Jack by the arm and pushed him out of the car. He unlocked Jack’s cuffs, thrust one hand through the steering wheel and recuffed him.

Jack watched the two convicts walk off and discuss something in low tones. He was shocked to see her strip off her shirt. She was now bare to the waist. He’d already seen in the prison that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Kate smiled up at Sawyer and they kissed, coming together so hard it was like a car crash. Finally, they drew apart and sat by the side of the road and waited.

They were going to hold up a passing car, Jack realized. And they were probably going to kill the driver and passengers. He had never felt so powerless in his life. In his current position, he could honk the horn but that was about it. Honking it now would just provoke their wrath. Honking when another car appeared would only help their plan. “Dear God, don’t let them kill anyone,” he begged.

His heart sank when he saw a pair of headlights approach, but it was an 18-wheeler and Kate didn’t make a move. She also ignored a pickup truck. The next vehicle was a mid-sized sedan with a suitcase strapped on top of the luggage rack. Kate ran out into the middle of the road, waving her arms, while Sawyer hung back, the gun ready in his hand.

What car wouldn’t stop for a seemingly in distress, half-naked woman, Jack thought in despair. The car swerved, but Kate had waited too late to head it off and the driver couldn’t slow in time. The car went off the road and rolled over with a sickening crunch of metal and glass.

Jack looked on in horror as Kate and Sawyer ran over to the car. For a second, he thought they might help the driver. Instead they seemed to be picking up the strewn contents of the suitcase. Even from where he was, he could smell gasoline. Flames licked at the car, which lay on its side, its frame half-crushed.

There was no sound from anyone inside. They were either already dead or unconscious, Jack hoped. He offered up a quick prayer for the occupants, whoever they might be. The fire grew, with flames jumping up several feet. Kate, who had been standing still, seemingly mesmerized, suddenly stripped off the bottom of her uniform. She balled it up and threw it at the center of the fire. Sawyer followed suit, until they both stood in only their underwear.

They kissed again, the light from the flames playing over their bare skin. Jack couldn’t believe such wanton indifference existed as he watched them embrace against the fiery backdrop. For a minute, he thought he’d been dropped into hell.

Jack felt the heat from the car all the way across the road. The gas tank was going to go any second, he thought grimly, wondering if he should shout a warning. The horn went off loudly and he realized he had leaned on it unconsciously.

Kate and Sawyer hastily drew apart and retreated, just as the tank blew with a deafening roar. They dashed back to pull the suitcase out of harm’s way.

She had pulled on a tank top and an ill-fitting denim skirt and returned to their car with a last glance at the burning car. Sawyer had thrown on a T-shirt and was still struggling to get into a pair of jeans. He threw the suitcase into the trunk.

When she returned to unlock Jack, Kate’s eyes were dancing as if she’d been watching a fireworks display. “Can you believe that?” she asked him. “Wow!”

“Those people are dead,” he said soberly, aware that it was probably not the wisest thing to say to her.

“Better them than me,” she shrugged, jerking his arms behind his back so she could recuff him. “You want to ride in the trunk? Because that’s what a smart mouth will get you.”

Jack was quiet. Whether it was pride or self-preservation, he wasn’t going to beg her for anything. She belted him in, threading the seat belt through his arms before buckling it.

“Sure would have been nice if we could’ve taken the car too,” Sawyer said, looking back at the fiery wreckage as they drove off.

Jack thought he saw a hint of remorse in the convict’s face, but maybe he was just imagining it. Or the ruined car truly was the only thing the man regretted, not the loss of life.

They drove for another hour with little conversation. Jack noticed Kate’s head starting to nod. He glanced over at Sawyer. Did he see it too? She was either tired or the loss of blood was starting to affect her. If she went off the road, they could all die. She shouldn’t be driving, at the very least. He had to say something, didn’t he?

But then the car drifted toward the side of the road and Sawyer shouted. “What the fuck are you doin’, woman?” Her head jerked up, and she corrected the car. “Pull over right now,” Sawyer barked, and she did. Jack felt a strange rush of relief and regret when Sawyer shoved her aside and took over the wheel. She was nodding off again, but crankily told him to fuck off.

“Is her wrist still bleeding?” Jack finally asked.

“Yeah. I think she cut too deep,” Sawyer admitted and Jack was surprised to hear the concern in his voice. “You know what to do about that?”

“She needs medical attention,” Jack said carefully, knowing his suggestion would fall on deaf ears.

“No way,” Sawyer said. “Nice try, Pops.”

“Then she needs a proper bandage. Fluids. And rest.”

“OK,” the man nodded, seeming to take his advice seriously. He drove until they reached a gas station. Sawyer parked off to the side, out of the reach of the pool of lights. He leaned over and whispered to Kate and then they both looked at Jack. She got out casually, the gun forming an awkward lump under her shirt. She climbed into the back seat with Jack as Sawyer approached the minimart section of the station.

She drew the gun out and pointed it at his chest. “I don’t have any problem using this,” she said, although her hand wobbled. She noticed it too, and with a frown, she leaned across Jack, the gun now poking uncomfortably into a rib as she let her body relax against his.

“Why won’t you let me go?” he asked her, searching her face for any signs of compassion.

“Insurance, dummy,” she said coldly. The gun was still aimed at his heart. “Our lives aren’t worth 2 cents if we're recognized. But no one wants to see a priest die. Maybe it would be even better if we’d gotten a nun...” she trailed off, breaking into a yawn. She reached up and undid his collar. “They’ll be looking for a priest,” she said, by way of explanation. She threw the collar in the front seat. “There, you’re not a priest anymore,” she said with a smile that made him uneasy.

He realized he was holding his breath. He looked out the window, seeing if anyone was looking their way. A burly man was disinterestedly filling up his pickup truck. Jack couldn’t catch his eye, although he was looking vaguely in their direction.

Kate caught him looking around and prodded him with the gun. “Be good,” she said quietly and he reluctantly turned away from the window.

The car door opened and Sawyer climbed in beside her, holding a bulging paper bag. He pulled out a carton of orange juice. “Drink this,” he told her, and she obligingly did. He took off her makeshift bandage and dabbed at her cut with a baby wipe and then popped open a plastic first aid kit. He wrapped a swath of gauze around her wrist and then neatly taped it off. Jack was surprised to see how efficient he was with her, and how gentle.

Jack, meanwhile, was fumbling with the seatbelt buckle, which was just barely in reach of his fingertips. He strained to push the release button, worried that its click would be horribly loud.

Before he could get it open, Kate was offering him some water. She held the bottle to his lips and he drank, only realizing how thirsty he’d been by how sweet it tasted. The water dribbled down his chin and she wiped it away with her hand, her fingers brushing his mouth.

Kate stayed in the back seat with him as they drove off and he looked back sadly as the gas station grew smaller in the distance. She nibbled on a chocolate chip cookie, looking for all the world like a little girl. For the first time, Jack wondered how old she was. And what she’d done. She seemed to recover quickly, the sugar now in her system reviving her.

Another 20 miles or so later, a generic motel sign loomed ahead of them. Sawyer took the exit and parked some distance from the front office. He undid Jack’s seat belt. “Lay on the floor,” he told him, pushing him onto the none-too-clean car floor. Sawyer took the gun from Kate and tucked it in his pants. He left her the rifle.

Kate put her feet on Jack’s chest. “You’re going to be good, right?” she said, giving him a stern glance. He closed his eyes, not bothering to answer her.
Sawyer marched Jack into the hotel room, keeping a firm grip on his arm. Kate followed behind. She flopped onto the double bed closest to the door while Sawyer examined the chairs in the room. Two were armchairs, and not suitable for his purposes. But at the small desk there was another chair, this one with an open back, and he pushed Jack toward it. He undid his handcuffs and prepared to redo them when Jack spoke.

“Can I just stretch my arms for a minute?” Jack hated having to ask for permission. Sawyer frowned, but nodded and Jack stretched his aching arms all too briefly. Sawyer impatiently recuffed him to the chair and then Jack might have ceased to exist as far as he was concerned.

Sawyer joined Kate on the bed, crawling over to lay beside her. They began to kiss and Sawyer rolled on top of her. He eased her skirt off and Jack was horrified when he realized they were going to have sex right in front of him.

He closed his eyes, but he couldn’t tune out the sounds as their lovemaking heated up. “Oh my God, Sawyer,” Kate moaned and Sawyer responded with a few choice swear words. Jack couldn’t believe how vocal they both were. The entire motel could surely hear them. Their moans grew more desperate and he tried to tune out the filthy things they were saying to each other.

Hail Mary, full of grace, he prayed silently.

“Jesus, God!” Kate cried out.

The Lord is with thee, Jack prayed with all his concentration.
Blessed art thou among women...

“Fuck, baby,” Sawyer grunted loudly. “God, you’re amazing.”

...blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

“Oh God, Sawyer, oh my God, oh my God!”

Holy Mary, Mother of God... Their impassioned cries broke into his thoughts. Mary. Mary was the name of the last woman he had slept with. He could still hear her moaning his name. Kate’s erotic groans were having an embarrassing effect on him. He was mortified to realize he had become aroused listening to them go at it like animals.

Pray for us sinners ... Jack began again, praying for all of them.

Kate’s moans reached a crescendo, followed closely by a deep groan from Sawyer.

... now and at the hour of our death. He heard nothing but ragged breathing and low whispers and nearly wept with relief that they had finished. He couldn’t believe it when they started up again all too soon. Sawyer’s long, forced abstinence meant he was likely to keep going for a while, Jack realized with a sinking stomach.

His eyes flew open when he heard Kate cry out in pain, and he quickly dropped his gaze when she met his eyes with a sardonic grin. She wasn’t in pain. She was in the throes of pleasure, on her hands and knees, with Sawyer pounding her from behind.

Lead us not into temptation, Jack thought desperately, jumping into the middle of the Lord’s Prayer. He was still painfully aroused, with no way to relieve himself. This was the most excruciating torture. They had no decency. Why in God’s name were they doing this in front of him?

Deliver us from evil. He wished desperately they would stop, as he was flooded with memories of his far too short sex life. Except instead of his Mary, he was now seeing Kate in his mind, lost in pleasure beneath his body, as he ...

Lead us not into temptation, he began again, chanting it over and over silently, forbidding any other thought to enter his mind. He was disciplined. He could do this. “Dear Lord, give me the strength to endure this,” he begged before falling back on the familiar prayer.

Finally, seemingly hours later, they were quiet. He dared to open his eyes and saw Sawyer’s bare backside as he ambled to the bathroom. He heard him pee and he realized he too, had to go. Badly.

“Please!” he called. “I have to use the bathroom.” His humiliation was compounded because his erection had yet to go down. But his bladder wouldn’t be ignored. “Please.”

Sawyer pulled on his boxers and came over to him. “OK, Pops. Don’t want any accidents.” He unlocked Jack’s cuffs and hauled him to the bathroom.

“Could I have some privacy?” Jack asked as Sawyer leaned casually against the door frame.

“You’re a shy one,” Sawyer smirked.

“I need a minute,” Jack said. “My hands have gone to sleep.” They were tingling painfully and he couldn’t seem to make them work.

“Need some help with that?” Sawyer didn’t wait for an answer, just grabbed Jack’s dick out of his pants and pointed it at the toilet. Jack gasped at the violation, and his urge to pee disappeared.

“Got a bit turned on, did ya, preacher?” Sawyer noted with a leer while Jack wished himself underneath the floorboards. He had no choice but to lean on Sawyer, finding his legs also much weaker than he would have liked.

“Why would you do that ... in front of someone?” Jack finally asked, his bladder still being awkwardly shy.

“I don’t care,” Sawyer shrugged, looking at him impatiently. “No privacy in the joint. Freckles and I always had an audience.”

“You mean ...?” Jack thought of the lewd show the two of them must have put on in the prison. Sawyer chuckled, and somehow Jack was finally able to relax and pee.

“Done?” Sawyer asked, and Jack nodded, thoroughly humiliated. He felt like a three-year-old. A three-year-old in the body of an all-too-human man. Sawyer washed his hands and then tossed him a wash cloth.

Sawyer walked away and then came back to tape the door’s latch open with some of the first aid tape. He tested it. It would close, but it wouldn’t lock.

“You’ve got ten minutes,” he told Jack with a meaningful glance and then closed the door on him. Jack looked after him in confusion, and then he realized that Sawyer was leaving him alone to masturbate.

Even though he was beyond mortified at the situation, Jack recognized the generosity of the gesture. He sighed, and then gave in, begging God’s indulgence. He fumbled with his cock, his hands still too numb to be much use. The image of Kate, grinning wickedly on her knees, came back to him, and suddenly his numb hands had a life of their own. He came quickly, and the short, intense pleasure was soon replaced with an overwhelming feeling of shame. He cleaned up hastily, hoping to be done by the time Sawyer came back.

He dreaded the knowing look in the man’s eye. He felt nothing but dread about what might happen yet tonight, or tomorrow. He knelt and began reciting the 23rd Psalm, “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.” He had regained a measure of composure by the time Sawyer came to get him, a lit cigarette dangling from his mouth and the smell of alcohol on his breath.

There was no point protesting being cuffed to the chair again. His muscles complained at the uncomfortable position, but somehow he managed to nod off. His dreams were chaotic, full of fire. And her.

(to be continued. yes, there'll be more smut)

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