I Am a Rock
Scene Eight: Exterior, Day/Interior, Night
Rated NC17 for the series
Warning: Mention of m/m sexual situations.
Disclaimer: I have borrowed these characters from Annie Proulx that created them, and the fine actors that embodied them on screen.
A/N: As noted above, this is an A/U!AU. I’ve tried to remain true to the characters as I perceive them, but presenting them in modern incarnations necessitated some changes in speech patterns, etc. I hope you don’t find the differences too jarring.
Thank you, Jean, for everything.
::=-=:: ::=-=:: ::=-=::
“Jesus, Ennis, keep your head up.” Alma took a bit more of her fiancé’s weight than she was comfortable with as he lost his balance on the sloping lawn. “Everyone’s watching us.”
“And don’t you just love it,” he muttered just loud enough for her to hear.
“You’re drunk,” she said. “Again.”
“Yep, and in the morning I’ll be sober, but you’ll still be a repellent snob.”
“One of the things I despise most about alcohol is the false courage it gives to the weak-willed,” she retorted.
“I don’t know what you see in me.” Ennis stopped in his tracks. Since Alma was hanging on his arm, she was forced to stop, too. “Why don’t you stop all this before it’s too late?”
“Stop all what?” she looked adoringly up at him, her sweet expression aimed at the crowd already aboard the yacht.
“This whole marriage business. We don’t love each other.”
Alma laughed. “Don’t be silly, darling. Of course we do. We adore one another.”
“And when we get home behind closed doors? Are we still going to pretend? Because if that’s the case, you’re going to have to get used to the drinking.”
“I know where this attitude comes from. The little chat I had with that nasty Jack Twist person was very illuminating. You’re behaving exactly like him. Thank God all adults aren’t so apathetic and concerned only for the next thrill. People like that get diseases, you know, and they deserve…”
Ennis’s hand shot out and grasped Alma’s wrist in the folds of her vintage Halston skirt. Her mouth fell open as he applied pressure and she was made aware, first-hand and for the first time in her life, that men are, on average, stronger than women. It was not a good feeling at the moment with Ennis’s smoldering gaze so close as he loomed over her petite frame. Alma despised herself for flinching when he shoved his face close to hers.
“Don’t you ever fucking dare say Jack’s name again, do you hear me?”
“Take your hand off me,” she said, her voice as warm as liquid nitrogen. “I’ll scream.”
“Do you hear me?” he repeated.
“Yesss,” she hissed between clenched teeth.
Ennis let go of her immediately, his anger fleeing, already ashamed of having put violent hands on someone weaker. “Go on without me,” he said, unable to look at her.
“I certainly will not.” Alma rubbed at the reddening skin of her wrist. “I have a pair of gloves in my bag and no one need know what a brute you are, but I won’t allow you to insult our hosts by not even making an appearance.”
“I’m not feeling well at all. Being on a boat probably isn’t the best thing for me right now.”
“Nonsense.” Alma brushed at the front of his striped sweater. “I like your new haircut, but why couldn’t you have worn proper clothing? You look like you’re going to a rugby match, or something. I’ll bet you’re the only one there in blue jeans.”
“Maybe I’ll start a fad.”
“I doubt it, darling. Not in this crowd. They don’t follow fads; they engineer them.”
“Are they going to be anything like that girl that showed up at Christian’s party wearing a shoe for a hat?”
“She’s throwing this party. And her name is Cassandra. Look, there’s Deedee.”
“Thank God,” Ennis said, waving to his sister. “Someone normal.”
Alma’s laugh had no humor in it. “Your family might be many things, Ennis, but normal would not even appear on the list.”
“Then find another rich guy to marry.”
“I don’t want another guy. I want you, Ennis. I always have, ever since the first time you came to the house to take Mina to that country club social. My sister wasn’t impressed with you, but you made an impression on me.”
Ennis glanced down at her as they came within earshot of other guests. “I’d just turned fourteen so you were what? Eleven? Twelve?”
“Eleven and three quarters is how I thought of myself at the time. God, Ennis, you were so handsome in that white jacket with the pink rosebud in the lapel. I knew right then that I was going to marry you some day.”
“I didn’t even know you were home,” Ennis said. “I remember it was raining when the driver dropped Mina off. I took his umbrella and walked her to the door.”
“You tried to kiss her.”
“True, and you’re right; she wasn’t impressed by me at all. She spent most of the social with her girlfriends giggling over the captain of the swim team.”
“Mina’s a brainless clothes-rack,” Alma said. “But that night, I would’ve given anything to be her. I hated her for pushing you away, and I vowed that if I ever got the opportunity, I wouldn’t be as stupid as she was.”
“You were just a kid,” Ennis began, when Alma pinched his arm.
“Say hello to Deedee and then come back. I want you standing next to me at this party. You might be dressed like a hooligan, but you’re still the best catch in the county.” Alma smiled. “Though that would probably change if anyone found out about your playmate back in the city.”
“Probably,” Ennis said, smiling over her shoulder at Dee. “You’ve got my nuts in a vise, that’s for sure.”
“Don’t forget it, darling,” she said as she walked away.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Jack chunked an empty bottle at the bin with unerring accuracy, as he opened a full one with his other hand. He slid the beer across the bar to a man with a dancer’s physique clad in little more than red, white and blue body paint. “I love the Fourth of July,” he mouthed to his co-worker, Mean Gene the Dancin’ Machine. When Jack looked back across the crowded club, there was a new addition to the scenery. The newcomer stood out, standing half a head taller than any of the other patrons, even after he took off the Stetson that shaded his face.
“Hey, M.G., who’s the bear?” Jack raised his voice above the music.
Mean Gene didn’t ask whom Jack was talking about, nor did he pause in his fluid physical interpretation of the sounds blaring from the loudspeakers. “Ooh, Papa Bear,” he drawled. “Come to mama.”
“You know him?”
Gene’s eyes roved the stranger’s frame like Lewis and Clark. “Why, tiger? You want a invite him to a party in your panties?”
“Couldn’t happen.”
“Bullshit! Your tongue’s draggin’ the ground.”
“Maybe, but I ain’t wearin’ any panties.”
“Mmm, I love it when you go commando,” Gene said, squeezing Jack’s ass.
Jack swatted at Gene’s hand. “There’s nothing in there for you,” he said. “Do you know this dude or not?”
“I’ve seen him around,” Gene said, and Jack could tell his friend was lying.
“Whatever,” Jack said dismissively. “If you’re thinking of hittin’ that, M. G., you won’t have to jump over me.”
Gene gave Jack a long, speculative look as the changing colors of the lights reflected in his pale eyes and paler face. “I’m not buying this pose of indifference. I’ll bet you… a blow job that I nail Papa Bear first.”
Jack made a rude noise with his tongue and lips. “Do you know how much head you owe me?”
“Double or nothin’?” Gene leered. “And just for the record, I’d be happy to suck on you all day, every day, for the rest of my life.”
“Now who’s the bullshit artist? I’m not your type, M.G. but that guy sure is.”
“Yours too, tiger. Curly dark blond hair? Check. Tall, broad-shoulders, handsome? Check. Exudes aura of manliness matched only by an ad for Marlboro Country? Check. He’s the whole package… and check out his package! Sweet Aunt Mary Sue! He’s a salami smuggler!”
“Size queen,” Jack teased.
“Honey, ain’t we all?” Gene said, pouring a pomegranate martini for a twink in a striped Russian sailor’s shirt. “I forgot to tell you that Lureen called the apartment again today.”
“Did you give her my message?”
Gene laughed. “It was my pleasure. You want a hear Miss Thang’s answer?”
“Hang on.” Jack spun the cap off a bottle of liquor and flipped it upside down, pouring a shot without spilling a drop. “Hit me,” he said to Gene as he pocketed his tip.
“She said it wouldn’t be possible to do what you suggested because she doesn’t have a cock.”
“The hell she don’t.”
“And the balls to go with it.” Gene’s eyes widened. “Oh sweet sufferin’ Sister George, your cowboy’s signaling for a drink, Jack.”
“He’s not my cowboy,” Jack said. “You serve ‘im.”
“He’s not even looking at me. He wants your sweet ass. Get over there so I can live vicariously through you.”
“I’ll go, but only because it’s my job.”
Gene rolled his eyes. “It’s bad luck to lie to a redhead.”
“You are so full of shit,” Jack told Gene as he went to take the big man’s order. “What’ll you have?” he asked briskly.
“Club soda with a twist and just because I’m not drinking alcohol doesn’t mean I don’t tip well. Did I say something funny?”
“My name’s Twist,” Jack said. “It makes me laugh every time someone orders their drink with one.”
“It’s a great bartender’s name,” the man said. “I was watching you. You handle yourself well. Customers like you.”
“Thanks. Here, on the house.”
“First one’s free, huh?” The stranger smiled and stuck out his hand. “I’m Randy Malone.”
“That’s nice,” Jack said.
“You’re professional, too,” Malone approved. “Are you planning on quitting this job anytime soon?”
Jack curbed the impulse to ask why the fuck it was any of Malone’s business. “Until the landlord starts accepting my good looks to pay the rent,” he answered instead.
Malone drained his club soda and set the glass down. “If good looks were money, you’d own this block, hell, you’d own this city.”
“Hey, Randy,” Jack said, ignoring the compliment. “If you don’t mind me asking. You don’t look our regular clientele. What brings you to the Odds and Ends?”
“I was thinking about buying it.”
Behind him, Jack heard his eavesdropping friend gasp. “You were, huh?” Jack said.
“I was. Now I’ve made up my mind. I’m definitely buying this bar, as long as you weren’t lying about staying on.”
“I’ve got a hand it to you,” Jack said. “I haven’t heard this line before.”
“Is it working?”
Jack sized Malone up again and admitted that he was attracted. He dealt with the attendant ache of recognizing just why the big man appealed to him and did his best not to see Ennis in Malone’s features. Deciding it was easier to let himself be picked up than to listen to Gene’s bitching, he grinned at the other man. “You’ve got my attention.”
Malone had one more club soda while they chatted and then left to take care of some boring business, as he put it. Jack nodded amiably, and having schooled himself over the past couple of months not to have expectations, he was pleasantly surprised to find the cowboy waiting when he got off work. Not that he let it show.
“You’re not going to find a cab down here this time of night,” Jack said by way of greeting.
“Maybe you could give him a ride,” Gene said archly.
Malone smiled, but didn’t respond to the double entendre. “I thought you might be hungry,” he said to Jack.
“I’m absolutely famished,” Gene said, pretending to faint from hunger.
“Mean Gene’s my roomie,” Jack told Malone.
“Doesn’t look so mean to me.”
“Nope,” Jack agreed equably. “So what did you have in mind?”
“There’s an IHOP restaurant not too far away. I’ve got a car.”
“I don’t know,” Jack said. “There’s a question of ethics here, don’t ya think? You could be my new boss and you might try and use your power to take advantage of me.”
“If you’re lucky,” Gene interjected.
“Bring your roommate if you’re nervous about your virtue,” Malone said.
Gene coughed. “It’s really starting to piss me off the way you two are talking around me.”
“We wouldn’t want that,” Malone said. “Come on. Let me buy you both breakfast. I’ll ask you some questions about the club and it’ll be like a business meeting.”
“Why not?” Jack said. “I’m hungry.”
Gene yawned hugely. “Gawd. All of a sudden, I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. I need to go home and crash.”
Jack raised an eyebrow at his friend. “You sure?”
“Absolutely, and I’m not going to wait up for you either.”
“Jerk.”
“Poser.”
“Republican.”
“Ouch. I’m going now,” Gene said, striding away in his pink Doc Martens as though treading a catwalk.
“You want me to go get the car, or do you want a walk with me?” Malone asked Jack.
“I’ll walk,” Jack said, keeping the amusement from his voice. Malone was rather a courtly sort and Jack decided to be charmed instead of scornful. “Thanks for the invite.”
“Well, I think we both know I’m not doing this because I want you to think I’d be a great boss. When I first laid eyes on you, I wanted you something fierce. Still do. But I want you to understand that if anything did happen between us, it would be separate from work.”
“Let’s cross that bridge if we ever get to it. Is that your car? Sweet.”
Malone beamed shyly. “Thanks. She’s not original. I had to buy a couple of junkers just for parts, but I’m satisfied with how she turned out.”
Jack ran a hand down the elegant fin of the dark blue ’62 Continental. “It’s beautiful,” he said, as the other man unlocked the door for him.
“Hop in and we’ll go to the…” Malone stopped when he realized what he was about to say.
“IHOP?” Jack finished for him, smiling at Malone’s awkwardness.
“Yeah. Guess you can tell I ain’t too smooth.”
“Smooth doesn’t do a lot for me,” Jack said, as he settled into the passenger seat.
“Then the hell with smooth,” Malone started the engine. “Tell me what else you don’t like.”
“Is this an interview?”
“No. You’ve already got the job. I just want to know if you’re a vegetarian before I ask you to dinner at a steak house.”
“Is that something you’re likely to do?”
“If I thought you’d say yes.”
“Let’s see how breakfast goes,” Jack said. “Mind if I play the radio?”
Malone shook his head and Jack played with the pre-set buttons until they pulled to the curb outside the pancake house. He hadn’t found anything he liked, but it had been fun teasing Malone about his taste in music.
“Country and western is the most popular type of music in America today,” the big man said, as the waitress showed them to a booth.
“Doesn’t make it good,” Jack said, turning his attention to the ordering of coffee and stuffed French toast with a side of extra crispy bacon.
Malone ordered steak and eggs and told the woman to put it all on one check. “How in the hell do you stay in that kind of shape eating the way you do?”
“I fuck it off.” Jack paused at the look on Malone’s face. “Yeah, I know. I’m crude, lewd, and I’ve got tons of ‘tude, but that’s me, man.”
“Noted. I’m kind a square, but I guess I’ve heard cuss words before.” Malone looked over his shoulder to see where the waitress was. “Truth is, hearing those vulgar words come from lips as sweet as yours is a shock, but it makes my dick hard, too.”
Jack toed off his sneaker and put his foot against Malone’s crotch for a second. “Well, you’re not a liar,” he said, pushing his foot back into his shoe.
“Jesus H,” Malone breathed. “Warn me when you’re gonna gimme a heart attack.”
“It’d be better if ya just got used to me,” Jack said, dumping four single serve creamers into his coffee.
“Don’t know if I could, but I’d sure like the chance to try.”
“Thought that’s what you were doing.”
“You’re a pistol, Jack Twist. All I ask is an even break. I’ll do the rest myself.”
Jack sighed. “I’d love to give it to you, but… You ain’t the first cowboy at this rodeo, if you know what I mean, and I think you do. My luck is slightly better than none at all when it comes to men, so you’re going to need all your patience with me. Still want that chance?”
“You just give it to me and I’ll do my best to wipe out the memories of all the idiots that couldn’t see what they had in you.”
Jack stared into the middle distance for a long moment. “I got a be honest with you,” he said. “I’m not over the last guy yet, and you don’t know me enough to make statements like you just did, but if you want to hang out and see what happens, that’d be okay with me.”
“I know we just met, but I’ve got a really good feeling about this,” Malone said, as the waitress showed up with their food.
“Great. Maybe you can remind me what feeling good is like.”
Randall Malone watched Jack pour syrup over the French toast and take a big bite. He wanted to lean over the table and lick the powdered sugar from Jack’s lips, but he was all too aware that they were in public and that Jack wouldn’t welcome it. However, Malone was fairly certain that this wouldn’t be the last French toast that Jack would ever eat, and he was going to do his level best to be there when the opportunity arose again.
tbc