Summary: Post "I Do" PWP
Note: For eponine119, who requested an OT3 fic. :) Thanks to zelda_zee for betaing. Using for fanfic100 prompt "Moon."
They undress in turns, first Kate, and then Jack, and finally, Sawyer. Kate sets the pace, disrobing slowly. There’s no need to hurry. Her eyes are just on Jack because this is all for him. Sawyer’s already had her, in the heat and rush of day, the beating sun intensifying the flush of her skin, the pulse of Sawyer’s heart, or so Jack imagines, because he wasn’t there. He only watched. The grainy black-and-white image of Kate in Sawyer's arms is seared into his brain.
Now there is the coolness of night, the slow and deliberate movement towards each other. She stands naked, before them, arms at her side, waiting. She nods at Jack and he pulls his shirt over his head. She walks over to him, her skin silvery in the moonlight. He shivers when she touches his arm but she holds back, not helping as he nimbly undoes the buttons of his jeans. He’s already hard. He glances at Sawyer, not her, when he kicks his jeans off – for a reaction, maybe, or just to signal that it’s now Sawyer’s turn.
All he sees in Sawyer’s eyes is the reflection of the moon overhead, and so Jack judges Sawyer’s reaction by his mouth, by the slight intake of breath, by the way he presses his lips together, wetting them with his tongue.
They both watch Sawyer unbutton his shirt, watch it slip to the ground, his bare skin still somehow golden, even by night. Kate’s hands don’t move from Jack’s arm. She doesn’t take him in hand, not until Sawyer is completely naked. She only leans up to kiss him when Sawyer is at his side, his hand on Jack’s other arm. There is none of the panic, none of the desperation from that first time she kissed him, just her breast soft against his chest, her heart beating nowhere near as fast as his. If there is any panic, it’s his, because now Sawyer takes his face in his hands and pulls him away from Kate. Sawyer flashes Jack a dimpled smile before he closes in, his mouth brushing softly over Jack’s, his fingers digging into Jack’s arm as he deepens the kiss, a little moan sounding deep in his throat. He steps closer, his cock brushing stiffly against Jack’s thigh and Jack’s own dick jumps, his breath catching. When Sawyer pulls back, he’s still smiling. He runs his hand over the back of Jack’s head, cupping his jaw for just a second before Kate takes Jack by the hand.
She leads him to the blanket and kneels down. Jack has thought about this, all the ways they can come together, and all he knows is that he wants it to be as close as possible to what he saw between them, so Kate lies back and Jack lowers himself onto her. Sawyer kneels beside them, not too close, but still close enough to touch.
Kate spreads her legs, drawing him in and Jack closes his eyes at the overwhelming sensation of being inside her. The deliberation of a moment ago is gone; now he feels the same urgency Sawyer must have felt. It’s not about making it last, it’s about fusing their bodies, about having her, about fucking like it might be the last thing he ever does.
He’s so lost in Kate -- her arms around his neck, her legs drawn up around his waist, her body clenched tight around him --- he almost forgets Sawyer is there until he hears his low moan, the same throaty sound Sawyer made as he kissed him.
Jack turns to see Sawyer, braced on his knees, rocking slightly as he pumps his cock with his left hand. Jack doesn’t think, just reaches out, grabbing Sawyer around the waist, until he nearly falls into Jack. He kisses Sawyer roughly. Already he tastes differently, of salt and sweat and need. Kate half sits up to accommodate Jack, gripping him harder with her thighs. She’s the one now to take his face in her hands, to steal his kiss.
Sawyer’s mouth is on his neck, on the sensitive spot right below his jaw as Jack pistons into her, one hand on her hip, one hand on Sawyer’s. Both of them follow his rhythm, panting and breathless, moving as one. It’s as close to fucking two people at once as he thinks it’s possible to get. He can hear Sawyer’s breath catching, feel the thrust of his hips falter and knows he’s close, just on the edge. He squeezes Kate’s hip and her whole body contracts. Her eyes dart from him to Sawyer, her mouth open, as if she’s breathing for both of them, because now Jack can’t draw air. It’s as if all the oxygen has been sucked from his lungs and he’s falling, the rush of air and night in his ears, like he’s some dark bird with a cry not his own flying over the island.
He comes back to himself in the same rush, in a tangle of heated skin and hair and sweat and come and two mouths nuzzling his, then turning to kiss each other. It’s a dance that has no steps, just a dizzying swirl of mouth and tongue and lips both soft and rough.
His heart is still pounding as he lies back against Kate, his head resting between her breasts. He can hear the rapid beating of her heart, like a wild bird in a cage.
Sawyer lies on top of him and Jack spreads his legs to accommodate his weight, feeling him settle between his thighs, feel Sawyer’s pulse start to slow as he lays his head on Jack’s chest.
This next step is so slow, so languid, that if before he felt like he was flying, now -- lying, pressed between Kate and Sawyer -- feels like sinking. Sawyer is heavy on top of him, solid and real and right. Kate runs her hands over Jack’s hair as Sawyer inches higher, until his mouth is level with Jack’s. He fucks Jack’s mouth with his tongue, making Jack moan, forcing him to open his jaw wider and wider to take him in. He’s not sure what he’s most aware of -- his own cock stirring to life again or Sawyer’s, pressing against his stomach, or the wetness between Kate’s legs.
He can’t explain why it happens the way that it does, with his knees drawn up so Sawyer can slide low enough to take his dick into his mouth, so he can slide one finger, and then two, into Jack, how Kate doesn’t join in, except to stroke Jack’s face or his chest, to whisper soothingly to him when he grimaces. Sawyer is heat and hardness between his legs, pain and pleasure too intense to separate as he thrusts inside. Kate is a different kind of heat, soft and comforting as his body slams back into her, time and time again.
She feels it when his body opens to Sawyer, when he finally thinks to stroke himself and she turns from touches meant to soothe to ones meant to excite, to hurt. She flicks her tongue over his ear, biting down on the lobe in time with a thrust from Sawyer. She teases his nipples between finger and thumb, pinching until he cries out.
His legs start to shake and he feels it coming, circling from within and without, a live, hot spark passing from her body to his, from his to Sawyer’s, like electricity, like air, like breathing, like dying. It comes over him, wave after wave, awful and amazing at the same time, so deep and intense, he wants to beg Sawyer to stop, but he has no breath to speak.
It’s Sawyer who speaks, his name a ragged sound as Sawyer bends low, panting his orgasm into Jack’s ear and then into Kate’s mouth, his body shuddering as he empties himself into Jack.
Sawyer collapses heavily on top of him. Jack is slick inside and out, wet from Sawyer’s sweat and come. His hands wind their way into Sawyer’s hair, pulling it back from his eyes as Sawyer gasps for breath.
They lie still like that, Sawyer inside him, Kate cradling them both, until Jack’s muscles start to protest. Sawyer slips out, at last and falls back against him as before, and Kate’s arms encircle his waist, her long hair tickling his back.
His skin is still hypersensitive; the blanket underneath is too prickly and Sawyer’s beard far too rough as he nestles into Jack’s chest.
An involuntary tremor runs through Jack, and he realizes his thighs are shaking. Without asking, Sawyer starts to rub his legs, thumbs digging in in little circles. He wants to say something, thank you, maybe, but there doesn’t seem to be the need for words anymore.
He falls asleep with Kate curled up at his back and facing Sawyer, Sawyer’s arm draped over them both.