Note: For foxxcub, who needed smut to chase the blues away
He walks out of the ocean naked, water glistening like diamonds on his smooth, golden skin, and Jack can’t help himself. He’s already moving towards him without thinking. Sawyer stops and shakes the water out of his hair and the drops bead up on his shoulders and run down his chest.
Jack just wants to reach out to touch him -- has to touch him. It’s the glitter of water on flesh that draws him. If the sun weren’t shining like that, if Sawyer didn’t move like that ... if....
It’s noon but the beach is deserted. There’s only Sawyer.
Sawyer sees him coming and pauses, curious but unashamed. He does nothing to cover himself. His eyes narrow, squinting into the sun, his body tensing as Jack comes closer.
Jack collides with him, unable to stop. He has Sawyer’s upper arms in a firm grip, grabbing and digging in with his fingers when all he wanted was a caress.
His mouth is covering Sawyer’s, and for a second, Sawyer resists, stepping backwards and keeping his lips tight against the play of Jack’s tongue. But then he opens his mouth with a sigh and lets Jack in. He tastes like salt and rain and sin and Jack drinks him in like a man dying of thirst.
Sawyer is pulling him with him, back into the surf. They stumble backwards, still entwined, kissing blindly, until the sea is waist high.
Jack breaks their kiss, catching his breath. Sawyer’s eyes are the same color as the ocean, flashing from blue to green, and how could Jack have never noticed that before? He’s not saying anything, not in words. He just stares at Jack, feral and hungry. He’s breathing hard and his mouth is parted and he licks his lips as if tasting Jack there still and Jack shudders.
Sawyer is the sun, white-hot and blinding him now that he looks at him head on, the way he never dared to before.
The waves are bobbing around them with an ungentle push and drag, so that he has to brace himself on the ocean floor. Jack closes his eyes and gives into the pull of the tide, gives in and lets go of Sawyer’s arm. He lets his hand run down his chest, across his abdomen, as Sawyer sucks in a breath and the world stands still, even the ocean pauses, as he takes his cock in his hand.
Sawyer’s soft moan sounds in his ear as Jack’s hand runs down the length of him, slow and teasing at first and then stroking with a desperate urgency. His breath against his neck is hot and ragged and Jack shivers with each exhalation, each shudder he causes Sawyer transmitted back to him as sighs and breath and warmth.
Sawyer’s tongue scrapes over his neck. He nips at the cords straining in his neck, and he growls, answering the movement of Jack’s hand under the water with a tease of teeth over skin and a moan of appreciation. He thrusts his hips against Jack, urging him to speed up. His hands are pulling up Jack’s wet T-shirt, prying it loose from his skin, edging it up so he can take his nipples between his teeth and make Jack gasp and curse.
He’s tugging at Jack’s jeans, now heavy and leaden with water, and he finally gets the fly open and his hand closes around him and Jack nearly whimpers at his touch, the shock of it shooting through him, so close to pain, he can’t stand it. Sawyer’s hand is rough and he can’t be bothered to be gentle. His strokes are hard, furious, eager for him to catch up and now Jack is panting in his ear and growing dizzy.
Sawyer is the ocean and he’s drowning in him.
The waves surge around, them, water rushing through their legs as he brings Sawyer to the edge, gasping. They’re rocked by the tide, fighting to stay in one place and then Sawyer moans his name, low and desperate, and only Jack’s arms and the water keep him from collapsing.
His mouth is on Jack’s again, like a drowning man needing the air that only Jack can give him. He is panting through the kiss, not able to wait until he gets his breath back. His heart is hammering against Jack’s and his hand has never stopped and now Jack sees white flashes behind his eyes like he’s looked too long into the sun. His body is jerking now, his skin red-hot where the ocean stops. The tide rises and crashes inside him and he breaks against Sawyer.
He kisses him again and somehow Sawyer tastes gritty now. It’s from the sand dusting Sawyer’s chest and now it’s in his mouth, adding to the scrape of tongue and teeth.
Sawyer is grit and gold, like the sand. The sand gets everywhere here. Try as he might, he can’t escape it.