Summary: Payback’s a bitch (sequel to The Use of Force)
Warning: Bondage, semi-non-con
Jack was still sprawled where he’d fallen when Sawyer had cut him down. His head was bowed and his back was bent, and Sawyer’s eye followed the curve of his spine from the hunched-over shoulders to his bare ass.
He looked like he could be a sculpture in that odd pose, with those chiseled muscles so perfectly still. He didn’t even seem to be breathing.
Sawyer wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but to see that he hadn’t moved at all was like a kick in the gut. He hurried his step until he was standing over him and still Jack didn’t move. “Brought your clothes,” he said gruffly, dropping them next to him but Jack didn’t even look up.
He dropped to his knees, his throat suddenly tight. He put a hand out as if to touch him, and then pulled it back.
“This isn’t what I wanted,” he thought, replaying it all in his mind.
For a solid week, he’d let Jack wonder when he would strike. He didn’t go near him, didn’t say anything to him, but when he saw him, he noted the dark circles under his eyes and that haunted expression, and he knew Jack was worried.
Couldn’t be those little tokens he was leaving in his cave. Bits of rope. Bits of cloth soaked with blood. Nothing anyone else would make anything of, but Jack would know what it meant. It was a promise.
When he caught his eye, Sawyer smiled back grimly, just counting the hours until he could exact his revenge.
Sawyer sat and smoked, waiting. At last Jack was coming around. He didn’t want to miss this, when the Doc realized what was going on and what he was in for.
Jack lifted his head, still groggy from the sedative, and registered that he was naked. And then he looked at the ground, seeing his ankles wide apart and tied to stakes planted firmly in the ground and then his gaze traveled up to see that his arms were stretched out and his wrists bound to two conveniently spaced trees. He shook his head and then he saw Sawyer and his eyes went wide, even though they were still dulled.
Sawyer expected a protest, impassioned pleas to let him go, but Jack didn’t say anything at first. His body sagged despite the bonds and then he tried to straighten, to pull against the ropes. Desperation was setting in now and Sawyer could taste it on him, could feel how sweet it was to see the realization sink into that thick head. Yeah, now, fucker. Here and now.
Finally Jack wet his lips and spoke. “Sawyer.” His voice was steady. “You drugged me?”
“Bingo. How does it feel?” Sawyer walked closer now until he was standing inches from him.
Jack closed his eyes and opened them again, shaking his head as if to shake off the effects of the drug. “What did you use?”
“Something small and white. And strong.” Sawyer’s voice was low, soft. Like he was speaking to a lover, not an enemy. He ran the back of his hand across Jack’s face and then drew it back and slapped him hard. Jack’s eyes flew to his, wide open now in shock and Sawyer smirked. “That’s better. I want you awake. I want you to feel everything I’m going to do to you. And believe me, I have a much bigger imagination than you do, doc. And a helluva lot darker.”
Jack was sweating now, despite the cool evening air, despite being completely naked. But his voice was still calm, his eyes steady. “You don’t have to do this, Sawyer.”
“Oh, but I do,” Sawyer purred into his ear, running his hand over Jack’s chest, savoring the other man’s shudder.
“No. No, you don’t. Just untie me, alright?”
“What, and then we’ll talk?” Sawyer scoffed. “Fat fuckin’ chance.”
“We don’t have to talk,” Jack said, fixing him with a meaningful glance even as a blush spread from his face down to his chest. “I ... you don’t have to tie me. I won’t run away.”
“You want me to believe you’ll just stand there and take whatever I’m going to dish out?”
Jack’s tongue flicked out over his lips. He was really nervous now and it made Sawyer warm to see it. “If we’re thinking the same thing, then, yes.”
Again there was that undercurrent of meaning in Jack’s look and Sawyer didn’t like it. It meant the doc wasn’t as scared of him as he’d like, that he might be enjoying this all too much. Time to change that, he decided grimly.
His hand shot out, gripping Jack’s neck hard and tilting his head back so that he had no choice but to stare up into Sawyer’s face. “Listen, jackass, the little party I got planned here ain’t gonna be any fun for you, trust me.”
Those dark brown eyes just stayed fixed on him, Jack’s gaze not quite a dare, not quite a plea, but something inbetween. That look unnerved him, so much so that he decided now he wanted to be staring into Jack’s face when he fucked him hard and mercilessly, to see that expression change, to see him break at last.
He let him go with a contemptuous motion and then backed off, a smug smile twisting his mouth.
He stripped off his shirt and tossed it aside and then unzipped slowly, fully aware of Jack’s eyes on him, even though he didn’t bother to look at him. He stepped out of his jeans, already half-hard. He tossed his head, getting his hair out of his eyes and when he looked up, Jack was staring at him, intent and nervous, but not pee-yourself-scared the way he would have liked.
He walked over at last, happy to see the doc twitch against his bonds as he approached and that he was biting his lip. Sawyer pressed his body against him, running his hands down his chest, then letting them rest on his hips. Who owns who now?
He took the lube and rubbed it slowly on himself, shivering at his own touch, until his cock was stiff and ready. He’d considered doing without lubrication, but dammit, he meant to enjoy this, even if it made things easier on the doc.
Jack was trembling as he moved his slicked hand to his thigh and then he felt him holding his breath as he slid the hand to his ass.
“Is this gonna be a first for you, doc?” Sawyer smirked, savoring the swift intake of breath and tensing of muscles as he shoved finger number one home.
Jack’s face was agonized, the panic written as plain as day as Sawyer slid a second finger in and started to test him, but the way he said his name now, slow and breathy, went straight to Sawyer’s dick. He withdrew his hand. Enough fuckin’ around. Show time.
Sawyer held him fast by the hips and pressed his cock up against Jack, their eyes locked. He was still waiting for Jack to beg him to stop as he shoved inside him, quick and hard. He felt Jack’s knees buckle and heard his harsh, shocked gasp in his ear, but all that was nothing compared to being in Jack, to how close and tight he was and how he was shaking around him now.
He instinctively stopped and shifted his hips. His hands were wrapped around Jack’s waist and now they moved up and down his back of their own accord, and some of the tension eased out of him.
Jack’s head fell against his chest and when he pulled him up by the chin, there were tears in those eyes that were shut tight against him and Sawyer felt a strange thrill of possession that bordered on protectiveness.
“Shhh, shhh,” he said, his anger and hate evaporating now that he’d conquered him, and his hand was in Jack’s hair, patting and soothing him and then he was moving inside him again, one hand braced on his hip.
Then Jack opened his eyes and Sawyer’s stomach flip-flopped. Jack looked so lost and vulnerable, that fierce gaze full of need but without any hate and so intense that Sawyer swayed, pinned as surely as Jack was.
He closed his eyes, concentrating on the feel of Jack, on this strong, hard body he was holding and how there was no resistance anymore, just heat and sweat and haze and little moans that could be pleasure or pain.
He thrust harder now, feeling Jack yield to him and move with him as much as he could and he wanted to let him loose but he couldn’t stop. His hand went to Jack’s cock, wringing a groan from him as he smoothed his thumb over the head. He tightened his grip and felt Jack melt into him and then he couldn’t not be kissing him. Jack still tasted like tears and pain and Sawyer’s stomach twisted again, guilt and desire tangling there until he didn’t know which was stronger.
There was a ringing in his ears now and he felt the rush coming, starting in his feet like something wild surging deep within the island itself and now it was tearing through him and through Jack with a sound like a sob or a scream.
He waited for the world to right itself and for his legs to stop shaking. Jack had come all over his stomach and hand and Sawyer hadn’t even noticed until now. Knowing he'd make Jack come, he felt that overpowering sense of possession again.
Jack’s head was bowed and he let out a small protest of pain as Sawyer pulled out of him. Already the heat and the need were slipping away. Sawyer’s hand stayed on Jack’s hip and he felt the urge to say something but he just walked away.
He sank to his knees and gathered his breath, his heart still racing, and then he reached for his jeans and pulled them on. He grabbed the knife - the one he’d used to shred Jack’s clothes while he waited for him to come to - and some bits of what was left of Jack's shirt and walked back to his captive.
Jack’s head was up now and he went pale when he saw the knife in Sawyer's hand. "Wait," was all he said, just the one word. Sawyer gave him a pained look and set to wiping him off slowly, not able to ignore how Jack trembled at his touch and he didn't know if it was fear or something else. Sawyer held him tight as he cut first one wrist free and then the other. Jack wordlessly rubbed his wrists as Sawyer sawed through the bonds around the ankles and then he crumpled to the ground.
“I kinda ruined your clothes,” Sawyer said, glad to have a topic. “Just ... stay here and I’ll go get you something to wear. OK?”
Jack didn’t answer, didn’t move, as Sawyer finished dressing. Had he read him wrong, after all, he wondered with a pang. He didn’t know anymore what to think or how to feel.
With a last, backwards glance, he set off for the caves, telling himself everything had gone according to plan because he’d shut Jack up and because he’d gotten off at his expense but all he could think of was how Jack had never asked him to stop.
Sawyer watched Jack’s back silently, chewing his lip as he wondered if maybe this was the worst thing he’d ever done. Killing a man was one thing, but breaking one was another. And it looked like he really did break Jack because he wasn’t even moving.
“This isn’t what I wanted.” Sawyer was surprised to realize that he’d said the words out loud. His hand found its way to Jack’s shoulder finally and patted him awkwardly. “Jack.”
Jack turned suddenly, his eyes wet and blazing. “What do you want?” he demanded.
Relief washed over him, even as he had to drop his head under that fierce stare. “I don’t know,” he admitted at last. “I thought ...” He lifted his head, staring Jack down, and began again. “I thought I hated you. I wanted to hurt you, like you hurt me. I wanted to break you.”
“Did I hurt you?” Jack’s voice was soft and Sawyer recognized the throb of guilt in it.
“Maybe just my pride,” he said with a short laugh, his throat oddly tight.
“God, I’m so sorry,” Jack said, turning around finally, and his face was broken, but not the way Sawyer had envisioned. He was still Jack, only every emotion was so raw that Sawyer flinched to see them play over his face.
“I thought I was right. I thought I had the right to ...” Jack’s voice cracked and trailed off. “And then I just lost control. Because I couldn’t admit it.”
Sawyer held his breath, knowing what he was going to say, but still wanting to hear him say it.
Jack crept closer, until he was nose to nose with him now. “I just wanted you.” He offered no more apologies, no more explanations, just himself, and Sawyer reached out and grabbed him by the back of the head, forcing their mouths together, groaning with need.
Jack pushed against him hard, knocking him backwards. His kiss was rough, all thrusting tongue and scrape of teeth and stubble, his hands tangled in Sawyer’s hair, and Sawyer wasn’t sure he was even breathing anymore.
At last Jack drew back, panting, his forehead resting on his cheek. Sawyer could feel his cock stirring again and Jack’s pressing insistently against his leg but neither one moved just yet.
“You hated me?” Jack breathed.
“Yeah.” The word was soft, reluctant.
“But you don’t hate me now.”
The rest was lost as their mouths met, so gently this time, with just a slow, sensual push and pull of hot, wet tongue and soft moans mingling as their bodies heated up, molding together. For once, Sawyer didn’t know where to put his hands, but they found their way to Jack’s strong arms, wrapping around them like he never wanted to let go, while Jack’s fingers kept tracing Sawyer’s face as if making sure he were real.