Blood is to Ink as
by the mighty mighty m
disclaimer: none of the the characters herein belong to me. hell, I don't even belong to me.
"It's just skin," says Jack when Sawyer insists in tracing his tattoo. He is ignored as the blond persists in dragging one ragged nail along the angles of the pyramid inked onto Jack's arm, barely pressing hard enough for more than a slight rasp as Sawyer's nails slide on his skin. Jack jumps as Sawyer increases the pressure, digging into the flesh of his shoulder deep enough that a thin red line shows up under the dark haired man's tan. "Just skin?" Sawyer has that smirk that always makes Jack want to knock him over and start kicking him dancing around his lips.
"Just skin. That hurt, asshole," Jack grits out.
Sawyer lowers his head, the long strands of his hair tickling Jack arm as he gently follows the path of his nails with his tongue. Jack shudders as Sawyer laps at the ink that is a part of his skin, stubble a delicious contrast to the warm wetness.
"Just skin, huh"
"No, just you."