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Tussling with the Big Boys by emication

Luck Lady

Walking away from the makeshift table, Jack couldn't remember having ever been so turned on by a poker game before. It had been three days since they locked Henry Gale in the armory, and in those three days, Jack hadn't left the hatch much. It had been four days since he'd last seen Sawyer, and with all that had happened between then and now, to Jack the days felt like weeks.

The last time he saw Sawyer, he'd taken all the guns. Jack returned to the hatch that night by himself, Locke staying at the beach to help Claire with Aaron. He'd entered the numbers as the timer counted down the last four minutes and went to the bedroom, liking the idea of getting one hundred minutes of sleep. The hatch reminded Jack of his first year of residency, falling asleep in the hospital just to be woken shortly after.

He didn't get to sleep much that night, though. Sawyer had been waiting for him, leaving Jack torn between punching and kissing him. He didn't argue when Sawyer grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling their mouths forcefully together. The poker game had been angry, using each other to find a cathartic release. Afterwards Sawyer had asked if everyone hated him again yet, and when Jack questioned his intentions, asked Sawyer the con had been about getting people to hate him, Sawyer silently gathered his clothes, got dressed, and left.

Jack wondered if he had hit a nerve, finally said something that got to Sawyer. He had meant to see Sawyer about it, but Henry Gale happened, and Jack did not trust Locke enough to leave the hatch. He didn't seek out Sawyer, but Sawyer didn't come to him, either. Jack supposed that was just another aspect of their relationship - neither one of them was willing to give in and fold.

Four days later they were playing Texas Hold 'Em on the beach, Sawyer's easy and flirtatious manner leaving Jack to wonder if they were really playing for bananas and mangos or if it were all a big metaphor. Jack had let out an inward sigh of relief when Kate left. He didn't need her detecting the tension between him and Sawyer and thinking it was about her.

"You'll get the guns, huh?"

Looked to the side of the path, Jack saw Sawyer swaggering over to him, a cocky grin spread across his face. "That's what I said."

Sawyer shook his head slowly, making a tsking sound. "If you talk like you own me, Doc, people might start to wonder."

Jack found himself becoming hypnotized by the way Sawyer's jeans hung on his hips as the other man approached. "They can wonder all they want. Doesn't make them wrong."

"Oh, but it does," Sawyer's voice was a low growl as Jack found himself backed up against a tree. "'Specially since I'm the one doin' the owning." Jack slammed the back of his head against the trunk as Sawyer groped him through his jeans.

"Oh...God..." Jack moaned, the only coherent word he could form.

"Close enough," Sawyer responded, and despite the fact that Jack's eyes were closed, he could still sense the smirk Sawyer was giving him.

Jack's hands fumbled for the zipper of Sawyer's teeth, pulling it down and slipping his hand between metal teeth that were cool despite the heat.

"It ain't polite to laugh when a guy is 'bout to suck you off. What the hell is so fuckin' funny?"

"My mangos are where your mouth is," Jack said, still giggling as Sawyer gave him an incredulous look.

"Shit, Jack, bad time to develop a sense of humor."

Jack realized that from there on out he was going to get painfully aroused by the sight of mangos as Sawyer licked and sucked, his head bobbing in Jack's line of sight. He gripped his fingernails into the bark of the tree, using the rough surface to keep his knees from giving out. Jack wondered how he had managed to stay in the hatch with Locke for so long with all the stress and tension caused by the presence of Henry Gale. Stress and tension were two problems of Jack's that Sawyer knew how to get rid of very well.

"Get down here," Sawyer commanded, and Jack wasn't about to refuse. He kneeled down opposite Sawyer, deciding the other man was overdressed as his hands undid the button on Sawyer's pants and slid the denim over his narrow hips. They removed themselves of their shoes, completely stripping everything else off. Jack weaved his fingers into Sawyer's hair, pulling him forward until their mouths met.

Sawyer tasted warm and musky and filled with a palpable wildness that reminded Jack of the jungle itself. He felt Sawyer's hands, kneading the flesh as Jack took both of them in one hand, stroking surely. Jack kissed and sucked his way down Sawyer's neck, stopping at the juncture of his shoulder, biting down to leave a mark and then licking at the spot while Sawyer leaned into him, their chests pressed together. One of Sawyer's fingers snaked its way into him, probing around until finding its mark. Jack yelled out loud when Sawyer struck his prostate.

Jack reached his orgasm first - the blowjob from Sawyer had already brought him near the edge. Hot semen splashed against Sawyer's flat stomach, and Jack found himself bending down, licking up the mess.

"Fuck, Jack," Sawyer's voice was throaty, and Jack loved the way Sawyer said his name during poker. He thought that times like these were the only ones when Sawyer was open and vulnerable, not hiding behind the jests and deceptive smiles.

"We should play poker more often," Jack grinned, feeling the physical sedation that came after an orgasm.

"No shit," Sawyer agreed, "but we won't wait four days until doing this again."

"It won't be that long," Jack promised, feeling a little sleepy all of a sudden. "I still have to go back to your tent tonight and get the medicine."

"Lookin' forward to that."

Jack looked around, finding where his clothes had ended up. He was starting to become aware of random twigs poking him in uncomfortable places. "We should get dressed. Someone could come down this way at any minute."

"Maybe." Sawyer shrugged, grabbing his abandoned shirt and moving away from Jack. "But I doubt it. They prolly think I went to beat the hell outta you for beatin' me. They wouldn't wanna get in the way."

"That's smart of them." Jack pulled his boxers on and found his jeans strewn over some underbrush. He got dressed, watching Sawyer gather his own clothing but not put any of it on.

"Catch ya later, then, Doc," Sawyer said, draping the clothes over his forearm.

"Aren't you going to get dressed?" Jack asked, trying not to think about Sawyer parading through the beach camp completely naked.

"No point in puttin' my clothes on if I'm just gonna take 'em all off again. You got me all dirty, Jack-o. I'm gonna go do some skinny dippin'. You can join me, if ya want," Sawyer said with a wink. He went back to the beach, Jack watching Sawyer's bare ass until it disappeared through the trees, shaking his head. Sawyer was going to pay that night when Jack went back for the medicine.

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