Warnings: Slash, language.
Disclaimer: They're not mine.
A/N: My first Jack/Sawyer fic! This story is probably only the first chapter, so review if you want to read more.
Also, as I always have to say, I've not actually seen the whole show, just a few episodes. Well, five episodes. So, please tell me if you see canon errors!
Sawyer kissed Jack on a day when the sun for once wasn't shining with its bratty cheerful gleam, when the rain fell gracelessly to the ground with its earthy smell of loss, and silence stretched like elastic through the long hours of humid misery. The unbearably still air hadn't felt right, the softly swaying jungle trees hadn't looked right, and the bland taste of fish that still clung to his mouth hadn't been right either, but the kiss had been perfect.
Sawyer wasn't going to let it happen again.
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"Where are you going!" Jack yelled, grabbing Sawyer's arm and pulling him back underneath the welcoming canopy of leaves.
The other man didn't answer as he was unwillingly pulled under the dripping shelter that stood as their only protection from the violent storm. Water slid gently down Sawyer's face, a mockery of the tears that Jack knew the other man would never shed, and his lips were invitingly red, the color a welcome testament to the brief contact of their lips.
In the open air, the heavy pellets smacked the earth with a violent ferocity, the harsh patter sounding more like the meeting of fist and flesh than the convergence of the two conflicting elements. The whisper of passion and fury still sounded through the jungle.
"You can't just walk away, not after you kissed me like that!" Jack yelled angrily.
Sawyer grinned and shook his head spitefully, little drops of water falling from his sodden hair like shining diamonds of liquid.
"You're readin' too much into it, chief. I was just thinkin' about Freckles and got a bit carried away," he drawled casually.
Jack stared at him with the dark rain sounds playing through his head like a bad movie soundtrack, his eyes confused and full of the anger that was always present around Sawyer. He knew the man was lying, that wasn't difficult to tell, but it still didn't explain why the other man had kissed him in the first place.
He had always assumed that Sawyer's casual flirting with the girls was from sincere interest in their bodies, if not their minds, but this new insight into the other man's character was quickly cutting away at the foundation of this belief, leaving him unsure of his own standing in the other man's mind. He had always been so sure that Sawyer hated him, and maybe the man still did, but there was obviously some other emotion mixed in the with the usual loathing.
"Stop thinkin' about it, doc," Sawyer said and walked out into the rain.
He looked up at the sky, letting the harsh drops strike his cheek, and closed his eyes for a brief moment, face gone quiet with the mask of inward contemplation. A drop of water trickled past the bridge of his nose, falling and clinging to the corner of his mouth.
Jack desperately wanted to let his hands touch the soft lips and wipe away the evidence of the storm's fury, leaving only his own mark in its place.
"Get out of the rain!" he ordered instead, trying to grab the man's arm again.
Sawyer danced backwards, opening his eyes and grinning wildly with manic energy, while the bright flash of lightning illuminated the darkly intense jungle.
"What? Afraid I'll catch a cold? Remember, doc, I'm a big boy," he said with a harsh laugh that sounded forced to Jack's ears.
Jack watched as the man walked away into the angry storm, his form almost completely obscured by the wild cascade of rain. He couldn't stop Sawyer from running away, so he would just have to trust that the other man would come back and face reality at some point.
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"Where were you?" Kate asked curiously as Jack stepped into the shelter.
The rain had finally stopped, leaving in its wake a surprisingly quiet jungle. Even the assorted animal noises had stopped, their noisy clamor quelled by the constricting atmosphere left behind by the storm. In the controlling silence, Jack could barely force himself to speak, but he didn't want Kate to get suspicious. The kiss was Sawyer's secret, not his.
"I went for a walk in the jungle and ran into Sawyer. We got caught in the rain, fought, and then he stormed off," Jake said tersely.
Kate blinked and shook her head.
"A simple 'I was in the jungle' would have been fine," she replied, grinning wryly.
Jack smiled sheepishly and glanced down at the ground. He knew he was acting strangely, but he would just have to hope that Kate wouldn't pick up on it right away. He had gotten too used to telling her everything.
"So what did you two fight about?" she asked easily.
"The usual stupid crap," he answered, shrugging.
He didn't like having to lie to someone he cared for, but he had no choice. As infuriating as Sawyer was, he still deserved some small amount of privacy, and Jack wasn't going to take that away from him.
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Sawyer sat down by the fire, carefully distancing himself from the few other people clustered around its flickering glow, the only light visible in the inky darkness of evening. Right now, the only thing he wanted was to be alone, where he could think about his own foolishness. Kissing the stupid doctor! What was wrong with him? He knew how to control himself too well to let something like that happen.
He sneezed and felt people glancing over him. He glared right back and huddled closer to the fire, his wet clothes sticking to his body.
"I am not getting sick," he muttered.
His head was aching as if someone had trapped a construction worker in it, his throat was quickly gaining the scratchy feeling that Sawyer always associated with sandpaper and acid, and an uncomfortable tightness curled in his chest, but he forced himself not to cough, unwilling to give into the irritating weakness.
"No one actually gets sick from walking in the rain," he reminded himself softly.
He sneezed again and shook his head miserably. There was no way in hell he was going to ask that damn doctor for help!
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"Hey, Jack!" Charlie called, running to catch up to the doctor.
The older man continued walking, allowing Charlie to run alongside him like a small child or a dog. Sometimes, he wondered if the musician was as old as he claimed to be, since the other man usually acted like someone half his age.
"What's the problem?" he asked, smiling to himself in the early morning light.
"I think Sawyer's sick. He's sneezing and stuff and acting even more pissy than usual!" Charlie announced.
Jack knew it was rude of him to burst out laughing, but it would have taken a nearly iron will to ignore the unavoidable humor in the situation. He leaned against a tree, nearly choking from the fit of laughter, and forced himself to take deep breaths in order to calm him. A few steps away, Charlie stood staring at him, a look of complete and utter confusion gracing his features.
"Uh, Jack," he began and then shook his head, "Never mind, I don't really want to know."
Jack grinned and patted the younger man on the shoulder as he began to walk away at a brisk pace. His steps were springy and light, and he knew he must look insanely pleased with himself, but he really couldn't force himself to care.
"Hey, where are you going?" Charlie called after him, probably thinking the doctor had finally lost his mind.
" I need to tell someone 'I told you so'," he answered brightly with a malicious grin.
Behind him, he could hear Charlie following him at a slower pace, his feet crunching the small twigs that decorated the ground as he, too, began the long walk back to the camp.
"That was just weird," the young musician muttered to himself, and Jack had to force himself not to start laughing again.
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"I hear you're sick," Jack said with a smile as he walked towards Sawyer.
The other man sat huddled by the fire, a faint sheen of sweat glistening on his tanned skin. Every few moments, he would shiver and move closer to the fire, trying to soak its heat into his own feverish skin. Jack thought he looked perfectly miserable, and it pleased him to no end to see the other man suffering for his own stupidity.
"Come to gloat?" Sawyer snapped, glaring up at him with pure venom.
Jack casually sat down beside him and stared into the firelight, watching the sparks that flew about like living creatures, constantly dancing among the bigger pillars of flame. He let it entrance him and distract him from Sawyer. He wouldn't deal with the man while he was acting like...well...himself.
Jack shook his head at his inner thoughts as he realized that they were telling him to put up with Sawyer's rude attitude and cruel mouth, and just help the man. He didn't like the idea, since it basically meant he was giving in to Sawyer, but he wasn't going to just let the man suffer. Well, maybe just a little, he corrected himself.
"Actually, I can't gloat. People don't really get sick from being out in the rain. Besides, you were the one who mentioned getting sick, not me," Jack said easily.
"Well, chief, that makes for one hell of a coincidence," Sawyer replied sourly, still not looking at the doctor.
Jack shrugged and moved his hand, placing it gently on Sawyer's forehead. He was completely unprepared for the southerner's reaction. The other man jerked away, scooting backwards until there were several feet between the two men, and glared at Jack suspiciously as he pulled his knees closer to his chest for warmth, obviously still feeling the lingering fever-induced cold.
"Damn it, Sawyer, I was just checking your temperature!" Jack cursed.
He grabbed Sawyer's arm and pulled him closer, forcefully dragging him back to his former spot. Without letting go, he replaced his hand on the man's forehead, noting the slight fever that still plagued Sawyer.
Sawyer flinched away after a few seconds and pointedly stared at the fire, avoiding Jack's gaze. He looked almost...hurt? Vulnerable? Jack wasn't sure, but it bothered him more than anything else, even the brief kiss the two had shared.
"You know, psychological stress increases your chances of catching the common cold," Jack told Sawyer, keeping his voice relaxed and informative.
"So, doc, what is it you think I'm so stressed about? 'Cause I can tell you right now that it has nothin' to do with you," Sawyer snarled.
Jack sighed and shook his head. He wasn't surprised by Sawyer's response, but it still disappointed him.
"Come see me when you're ready to stop lying to yourself," Jack replied.
He stood up and looked at the ill man one more time, then turned to leave. A stifled sneeze sounded in the still air, and Jack paused, half-turning to face Sawyer again.
"The kiss was perfect. If I can admit it, why can't you?" he asked softly.
A/N: Want to read more? Review, and I'll write! Huh. That sounds kind of mean. Sorry. Please review?