Away From His Hand Chapter 12

[forever9218]

Title: Away From His Hand - Chapter 12
Current Mood: Satisfied
Current Music: Maybe I’m Amazed by Paul McCartney
Author: forever9218
Pairing: Ennis and Jack
Genre: AU/Canon
Word Count: 6020
Disclaimer: Brokeback Mountain is the intellectual property of Ms. Annie Proulx. No money is being made from this work and no copyright infringement is intended. Just trying to paint new horizons for our beloved boys.
Dedication: To everyone here who still believes and is willing to be patient with the slowest writer that ever graced the planet.
Summary: The year is 1977, and Jack is still playing by Ennis’ rules of meeting up once or twice a year for a “friendly” fishing trip. Never hope of anything more, and certainly no chance of living a sweet life together. This time, however, unlike all the years of missed opportunities, Jack is determined not to go down the mountain without some promises being made. Both men feel in their bones that time is running out for them so, as an alternative to pointless arguing, they actually begin to talk about planning a future together. When unforeseen circumstances arise and an orphaned wolf pup enters the scene, their world starts to change in many unexpected ways. Before they know it, actions are set into motion and suddenly the possibility of living a life together every day, doesn’t seem so impossible.  

gwylliondream  Plot & OC Disclaimer. No one gets mauled or maimed in this story.


Away From His Hand - Chapter 12

Having endured a nerve-racking chain of events since he grudgingly drove off with Jim earlier that morning, Ennis was surprised how calm and contented he seemed to be. More often than not the interstate route he was currently traveling on would be taking him home at dusk, bone weary and sweat-soaked, returning from another backbreaking day at the ranch. Not much likelihood of feeling good or of looking forward to what the evening would bring when all that was there to greet him was a ramshackle house, brimming to the top with built-in gloom and an all-encompassing floor to ceiling solitude. Once arrived, he would mechanically grab a bottle of beer, a quick bite to eat, and try to unwind by switching on the secondhand TV that was ordinarily shoved slapdash into some remote corner of the room. The televised interlude initiated not so much for entertainment purposes as merely to allow the alien sound of human voices to temporarily penetrate the sterile emptiness that was his constant companion. Usually, he would stretch out on the sofa, feet propped up on the coffee table, and nod off after some indifferent viewing of the woolgathering variety before crashing out in bed, slightly buzzed. The self imposed purgatory repeated at the crack of dawn the next day, without even a semblance of resistance to alter the outcome.

Unlike his normal exhausted state, he was wide awake today, well rested from the extended time off work, and with plenty of hours left of daylight to be occupied by something more than a measly hand to mouth subsistence. At only 3:15, he knew Jack would be getting his second wind by now, excited to hear about everything that had happened, and before too long playfully ribbing him about his curmudgeonly ways. All too soon, speculating about the length of time it took before poor Jim had to start talking to himself to get a decent conversation going. He thought about how he should be drained by all that had taken place but, instead of feeling dog-tired in both body and mind, he was far and away uncharacteristically invigorated. Knowing how Jack was the sociable type, he suspected the man would be fighting off cabin fever by now, possibly even waiting at the door by the time he pulled up, anxious to hear about all the details, while hanging on his every word and blistering him with questions like a six barrel Gatling gun. Ennis chuckled inwardly trying to picture Jack’s reactions when he told him about Monroe rescuing him from Alma and how Jim Fairhurst was not all he seemed to be.

With gravel crunching underneath the truck’s tires to proclaim his anticipated homecoming, Ennis carefully steered alongside the house and promptly cut the engine before applying the emergency brake. Happily humming, “Cowboy’s Lament,” one of his favorite songs from childhood, he hopped out of the cab, slamming the rickety door shut behind him, and briskly walked around to open up the tailgate. Without wasting a motion, he leaned in and collected two armfuls of groceries, only now beginning to privately brood over why Jack had not made an appearance yet. Promptly jolted back into reality by the man’s absence, his brain began to swirl with the memory of why Jack was staying with him in the first place. The harsh realization made him feel more uneasy with every step, while his mind began to fill with a spectrum of worst case scenarios. Jack’s impaired condition, combined with the alarming spell he had suffered the previous night, intensified a growing feeling of anxiety as he approached the front entrance. For some reason, he hadn’t thought about Jack’s injury until now. The disturbing thought began to emerge that leaving Jack alone might not have been the best idea. He should have told him to, at least, be careful while he was gone. Not to do too much or, better yet, have taken him along on the drive back to the trailhead. The doctor had not made any particular kind of convalescent recommendations, but any fool would have known it was too soon to leave the man unsupervised. What if Jack had fallen and hit his head again? There would have been no one there to help, or to drive him into town. He mentally kicked himself for being so irresponsible. A passing thought began to take shape that this experiment in domestic living was already making him soft. He needed to be on guard more than ever, not distracted by a certain someone’s optimistic ways. Shoving the key into the lock, he pushed the door open with his shoulder, Jack’s name on his lips the moment he darted inside.

“Jack! Jack, where are you, bud?” Flinging the bags on top of the kitchen table, he quickly surveyed the area before rushing toward the bathroom, pivoting to the left in search of the sole object of his quest. When no need for concern was detected, he headed down the cramped hallway, only to be stopped dead in his tracks by what he saw. “Shit,” his hand fretted up and down his face while he mumbled beneath his breath. There was Jack, in stocking feet and fully clothed, a magazine folded open on his chest, deep in slumber. The pup had curled up in the space between one of his shoulders and chin, fixing watchful eyes on Ennis to monitor what he was up to before settling back down once he sensed the possible danger had past. Within seconds, Ennis could hear the two companions snoring in unison just like they probably had been doing before he intruded upon their mid-afternoon snooze.

Jack Twist. I swear you’re gonna be the death of me yet.

Satisfied the inseparable duo had everything under control when it came to expertly lounging about on a Friday afternoon, Ennis turned around to go about his routine business. First things first, he walked outside to retrieve the rest of the groceries and to lock up the truck for the rest of the evening, making sure to carefully store the containers of food where they needed to be inside the house, and to refrigerate a six pack of beer for later. Once he had washed the dishes Jack had left in the sink, and placed the utensils and plate back where they needed to be, he turned around once more to make sure he had taken care of anything. Seeing that all the pressing chores had been completed to his satisfaction, he stood in the middle of the kitchen and began to wonder what he should next, knowing from experience that standing idle for long was far too taxing to sustain. After he realized there was nothing left to preoccupy his attention, he noticed how he suddenly felt physically drained and mentally spent, the hectic activities of the day catching up with him at last. With no prospect of Jack appearing anytime soon to revive him, he thought about stretching out on the couch for a brief break, until his better senses took over and he shuffled back into the bedroom to seek some shut-eye too. Jack, of course, had sprawled out smack dab in the center of the mattress by then, making it difficult to locate a comfortable spot to settle down and unwind. He noticed how the pup was looking him over with a not too welcoming mug, which got him to think that it would be unwise to expect an engraved invitation anytime soon. The challenge may have seemed ambitious for a lesser man, but Ennis was more than up to the task after all the trials and tribulations he had faced that day. Never mind his well honed expertise in the art of driving Jack Twist crazy. After all, he knew every twist and turn along that treasure trail, no maps or complicated navigational devices required to guide his path. Picking up the little fur ball protector, he carried the pup back into the kitchen and watched as short sturdy legs whorled around with five full rotations, before settling in place inside the towel-lined box, sides folded upward to make it impossible for the pint-sized canine to crawl out.

“You’ve got to learn to share, little man. I know you probably think he’s irresistible, but I’m needin’ some attention right now, okay?” Ennis scratched the top of the downy soft noggin a few more times. “Appreciate ya takin’ care of Jack while I’ve been gone, but I think I’ve got it covered from here.”

Sitting on the chair near the window where the curtains had been drawn halfway to facilitate sleep, Ennis took off his boots and socks before climbing into bed. Determined not to waste a single motion, he began to unfasten the sleeping man’s fly slowing lowering the zipper to expose the prize he was seeking. Initially, he stroked up and down, first lightly, then with more pressure until finally drawing out the response he had been seeking.

“Ummmmmmm. Don’t…. ”

Ennis continued to gently caress, but quirked an eyebrow in anticipation, pretty sure what the answer would be, but wanting to hear the words all the same, “Don’t what?”

“Don’t make me wait, you shithead.”

Not needing to be asked twice, Ennis clambered upward with purposeful intent and vertically positioned his body from head to toe before immediately going in for a slow and lazy kiss, one leg pinning Jack in place to accentuate possession as well as surrender. While still losing themselves in the pleasure of each other’s spontaneous exploration, a roving thumb began to rub over a smooth-skinned temple, the tender gesture mutually soothing, before the other man’s gentling fingers twined through thick, soft dark hair. Finally garnering some strength to pull back, Ennis couldn’t help but smile at the serene heavy lidded expression he had inspired so he buttressed his elbow on the pillow, and rested his head in his hand to take in the staggering view. Indulging in something he rarely allowed, he just gazed at the man who was now looking back at him with something he couldn’t quite make out, but figured an odd combination of cocksure confidence and frail vulnerability were awfully close guesses. Before he was aware of exactly how much time had elapsed, he whispered a recurring thought he had never expressed, the words out of his mouth before he could take the appreciative observation back, “Women would kill for those eyelashes of yours.”

Jack’s eyes darkened, licking his lips with a studied deliberateness, a slow smile breaking through. “Ya think I’m purty, cowboy?”

Jack was challenging him now, but he was determined not to retreat under the scrutiny.

“You’re a vain sonofabitch, aren’t ya?” That’s when his eyes softened and what he really was feeling spilled over into the light of day.  “Beautiful.” Looking off to the side, he sucked in an uneven breath before mumbling, “Scares me sometimes.”

Blue orbs brightened before the object of desire reached out to stroke the other man’s face with the back of his hand. “Aw, cowboy.” Jack cupped his hands behind Ennis’ neck and they came together again, this time with the kind of kiss that went on for a long, long time. Ennis could feel Jack shivering, as he sometimes did, in the heat of their coming together. Merging with a vast assortment of moans and liberated sighs, it was difficult to determine which one whimpered with a longing kind of need, and which one gasped with unbearable yearning. Lips separated only when air was needed, but Jack made sure not to completely disengage, pressing their cheeks together, as a whispered admission was softly imparted into an attentive ear, “I get scared too, ya know?”

Ennis could hear the sob in Jack’s voice, as he swallowed down one of his own,“Ya do?”

“Course I do.” Jack’s voice was shaky and pitched low, raw with emotion, “I miss ya even when you’re here in my arms.”

Ennis gulped down a feeling he didn’t even know existed, a mixture of gratitude and reverence, and the kind of happiness that was tinged with sorrow. He closed his eyes trying to remember the lyrics to the song he had heard earlier in the day. He felt a little dizzy, but he needed Jack to know. “Guess we both know how lonely life can be. What we found is….”

Jack nodded almost imperceptibly, a hot tear leaking down the side of his right cheek. “I know. Don’t want to lose you either. Couldn’t bear it.” Jack lifted his head up toward Ennis and let their lips come together naturally, hands running up and down sleeves, while probing tongues intertwined. Ennis pulled back just enough to burrow into the man’s neck and inhale the musky scent that was imprinted on his brain like the sense memory of wild columbine and pine needles that heralded the years flown by. Almost on cue, both men started to unbutton each other’s shirts, restlessly seeking skin to skin contact as quickly as possible. Tugging and pulling, shedding and probing. Taking each other up with care and craving. Once pants and underwear had been discarded, Ennis retrieved the lube stored underneath the pillow from the previous night’s activities, refusing to stifle the urgent need that had surged through him. Not wanting to waste another second, because all he knew was that he needed to be inside Jack now, Ennis smeared some lube on himself before shoving half way in, knowing there would be a burning pain, but unable to fight the desire to connect fully.

“Fuck! Ooooh, shit. Ooooh….god. Don’t you fuckin’ stop!” Jack hissed and his head hit the pillows, long legs wrapping around the other man’s back, his cock already fully erect and leaking with arousal.

That’s all Ennis needed to hear as he pushed all the way in, hips instantly pounding fast and hard. There was no need to hold back any longer as they already had been waiting far too long, had missed too many opportunities. Right now was about having, owning and never letting go. He could feel Jack move his hips and adjust, pushing upwards full force while he allowed his body to rise with every thrust.

Ennis changed his angle too, easily sliding out to the tip then forging right back in, all the way, the shift causing Jack to scream and begin to gyrate his hips wildly, hands clenching the sheets beneath him, seeking purchase.

“Oh god, Ennis. So good,” Jack continued to grind with every plunge satisfied grunts following each forward movement. While the world seemed to shrink in all around them, awareness intensified, while hearts shuddered with both atonement and renewal.

“Need more. Fuck me harder. Don’t…don’t hold back.” Jack’s eyes were blown wide but overflowing with emotion, filled with an openness that was drawing Ennis in farther than he had ever gone before, the same physical need now melding with something deeper and stronger. Something was bonding them together in new ways, a force that was less about momentary sensation and more about forging an immutable foundation, undeniable and permanent.  When he began to feel a tingling down his spine, he reached out to help Jack along, but the other man slapped his hand away.

“Jesus Christ, Jack.” Sweat was now dripping down Ennis’ face while he thrust harder and faster, hitting that spot that was now making Jack moan and hiss with each contact. How could he resist letting go completely with Jack’s strong legs tightening around him and pulling him in, impossibly further. The glistening body writhed underneath him, growing more desperate, panting with need and urgency.

“Make me come, Ennis. Just like this. Don’t…” another breathless whine, “don’t need anything else. Just you.” Another minute and Jack’s body began to spasm violently while Ennis continued to thrust deeper, tunneling inside as if he wanted to furrow a trough so vast that this time the seeds that were about to be planted would take root. Not be washed away by torrential onslaughts of fear and denial, nor stunted by the shadows of isolation and separation from the world. For once, sprouting something more than just uncultivated potential, a tendril of hope breaking through from the darkness as the light of day wrapped around them.

“Ennis!!!!!!”

He watched Jack buck upward in splendid release, his cum shooting out as the tremors shot through his body, and he heard his name screamed out with an uninhibited exhilaration that caused a familiar ache to rise up inside of him. Not the bad kind of sharp throb that was filled with anguish and unyielding emptiness, but the kind of consoling ache that was filled with the warming pleasure of finally having and holding onto what was being offered. Just as he was losing himself in the entrancing sight of a sated Jack Twist, an electric current blasted through him as well, his spine stiffening and his eyes rolling backward, as he spurt forth like a gushing stream. Everything never said cascading out of him with this one act. All that had been withheld unloaded in an instant. The burden lessened because it was being shared. Something being created that could be held onto, instead of permitting what was precious to slip away.

Drained of all he had to give, Ennis collapsed completely, falling into two powerful arms already opened wide to receive him. Panting with release and waiting for his heart to stop thumping, he willed his body to uncoil before slowly pulling out, the still trembling form of Jack Twist slightly wincing, but welcoming him home with high regard and purpose. Two bodies were now pressed together as tight as could be. No hint of anger or disappointment to drive either one off. Jack was not going anywhere for a change, while Ennis lay there, wholly satisfied, not wanting to move; the two of them finally sharing the same space together in the real world. Not on some mountain, isolated and banished from creature comforts, but on a bed, with real pillows underneath their heads and a roof sheltering them from unforeseen storms. Both stared at one another, like this time was different and it didn’t take much thinking to see that it was… so much better. Ennis slid over just enough and allowed Jack to cuddle by spooning up against him. Grabbing hold of Jack’s arm he rolled onto his right side, smiling when the other man’s hand began to pat his head with long, soothing strokes. Already half asleep, his words were unhurried and heavy-lidded.

“I ain’t that pup, ya know.”

“Don’t know about that. You’ve got a lot of bark, not much bite. And, ya awfully cute.”

“Who ya callin’ cute, Twist?”

“You, snuggle bunny.” Ennis groaned at the fuzzy endearment.

“I ain’t no rabbit neither.”

“Snuggle bear then.”

Ennis turned around swiftly and tried to put some fierceness into his gaze, but Jack was already shaking with barely controlled laughter.

“I thought ya just said I was cute like that pup?”

“Changed my mind. You’re my big brown honey bear.”

“You’re askin’ for it, boy.”

“Promises. Promises. Thought ya already taught me a lesson. Pretty sure ya not “up” to another go round this soon.” Jack wriggled his eyebrows, “We’re not nineteen anymore, snuggle puss.”

“Seems like there’s plenty of time for me to rile ya up again. Ya ain’t goin’ nowhere are ya?”

Jack’s eyes twinkled with something Ennis was seeing more of these days, a softhearted fondness wrapped in a thousand-prayers-of-thanks amazement. The kind of intense expression he used to see all the time in the early days. “I’m holdin’ ya to it, Pooh Bear.”

Ennis shook his head, utterly surrendering to the flirty banter. “You are an idiot.”

“Maybe, but I’m an idiot who needs a few z’s right now. Ya done wore me out.”

“Wore ya out? Let’s see if I got this right. You’re tired because I woke ya up from takin’a siesta in the middle of the afternoon?”

Jack chuckled, a drowsy quality to his voice suddenly taking hold, “Let’s take a nap, cowboy. We can argue ‘bout my sleepin’ habits later. C’mon roll back over for me.”

Ennis turned over, and quick as could be Jack had butted up behind him again, his arm flung over the dip in Ennis’ waist and a warm nose nuzzling into the nape of a sun-coarsened neck. “Rest up, friend, ‘cause I wanna hear all ‘bout your day when we get up later.”
“What makes ya think anything happened?”

Jack sighed and stretched full out, an extended yawn escaping. “Doesn’t matter. Don’t care if all ya did was tell Jim how to get there. Still interested in what ya have to say.”

Ennis pulled Jack’s arm tighter around him and immediately slipped over the edge into that halfway state between wakefulness and slumber. He never understood why, but the man holding onto him right now always had wanted to hear what he had to say ever since their first handshake outside of Aguirre’s trailer that June summer day in Signal, Wyoming. No one had ever cared about his thoughts before then, and no one had bothered to care much about them since. Maybe his mama and his girls, but neither really counted, for obvious reasons. Although Jack may not have been family in the traditional sense, their hearts had connected long ago. For all intents and purposes, and through good times and bad, that was all that had ever mattered. And, in the beaten down world of Ennis Del Mar, Jack Twist had always been someone who mattered, beyond all resistance and capacity to let go.

______________________

“Mmmm. Gotta tell ya, friend, I’m feelin’ like I’m ridin’ on a gravy train with biscuit wheels.”

Shaking his head with mild amusement at another one of Jack Twist’s colorful expressions, Ennis tried to dispute the claim, but not with much conviction, “Thought ya told me that when Texans feel real good, the proper saying is, ‘Happy as a gopher in soft dirt?’”

Jack paused to reconsider his selection of words. “Nah, ridin’ on a gravy train means that you’re one lucky S.O.B. ‘Course, I’m not denyin’ that good fortune makes ya happy, but I’m thinkin’ this particular situation qualifies for somethin’ closer to a prayer of thanks.” Midway through explaining the finer subtleties of local Texas lingo, a slow grin began to take shape as Jack silently considered the matter more fully. “Ya know, now that I think about it a bit longer, I guess ya could say that I’m feelin’ like a gopher on a gravy train with biscuit wheels, stuck in soft dirt.”

Ennis scrunched up his eyes and stared for an extended moment , lips set in a straight line. “Gophers don’t eat biscuits. They eat roots and seeds. Don’t even eat meat. Now, moles….”

“Alright, alright. Forget about the gopher. How the hell did we get on this subject anyway?” Turning up the flame on the front burner, Ennis gladly conceded the floor with an offhanded grunt, and began to concentrate on their dinner preparations while Jack stood nearby soaking in the savory aromas and rubbing his hands together in an I-could-eat-a-horse anticipation. Every once in awhile he would find an excuse to brush up against the tall, lanky food preparer, peeking over the closest shoulder to gauge how much progress was being made. “Hmm, that smells good. Nothin’ beats fried onions and potatoes.”

“Reckon that’s true. Why don’t ya make yourself useful and grab a knife out of that drawer over there. Maybe chop up about four of them hot dogs into wedges cause we’ll need to add ‘em to the skillet in a few minutes. If ya want, I could fry us up some eggs too. That sound alright?”

“Sure thing, cowboy. Need somethin’ after ya done depleted all my energy.”

Unable to resist the opportunity to swat a certain smart mouth on his perfectly shaped jean-clad butt, Ennis cleverly executed a solid hand-to-denim bushwhack before innocently ambling over to the refrigerator like nothing out of the ordinary had taken place.  “Nice ass for a gopher.”

Almost on cue, Jack squawked in mock protest, more than eager to go along with the flirtatious pretense of just having been manhandled by his favorite assailant. Secretly pleased that no matter how much pain they had endured, or how large the great gulf that separated them remained, the free and easy going companionship neither one had expected that distant summer could be reignited, like sparklight, in an instant.

“Hey, now! Be gentle. Ya might damage the merchandise.”

“You’re such a bellyacher, Jack. Little tap like that ain’t gonna hurt ya none.”

Jack coddled his behind with a hokey up and down motion, obviously enjoying the focused attention on one of his better assets. “Well…seems like ya should be treatin’ me with a lot more care, beings as I’m still recuperatin’ and all.”

Bending down to retrieve the carton of eggs, Ennis decided to grab hold of two more beers, remembering that he didn’t have to ration himself after his recent shopping spree. He was a bit surprised that he didn’t feel the least bit guilty knowing that Jack had helped to contribute to their well-stocked larder.

“Here ya go, bud.”

“Thank ya,”

Popping open the aluminum tab, Ennis took a long swig, “Let’s see, what were we talkin’ ‘bout? Oh yeah, last time I checked, ya didn’t fall on that pansy ass of yours, did ya?”

Jack began to wave the kitchen knife above his head, completely oblivious to the accuracy of the challenge. “Can’t help it if you’ve always had a soft spot for me, cowboy.”

"You're dreamin', boy. Maybe that seond can of beer ain’t such a good idea ‘cause I sure as hell don’t have no soft spot for your bitchin’. Ya must be thinkin’ of someone else.”

Sidling up with more than a little bull rider swagger, Jack’s hip bumped into the other man’s angular frame, followed by the slow reeling off of a few examples meant to jar loose a fond memory or two. “Let’s see now, how about, ‘I’m commutin’ four hours a day’ or ‘That goddamn pup tent smells like cat piss or worse.’” Jack smirked to himself, wholly satisfied with this walk down memory lane. “Course there’s still my all time personal favorite, ‘We gotta do somethin’ ‘bout this food situation.’ Seem to recall how ya shot me a two-point buck that time.”

Ennis lowered his head midway through Jack’s catalog of recollections, and began to concentrate on the skillet more than was necessary. The abrupt shift in mood caused Jack to temper the needling in an instant as he watched the firm grip tighten around the handle of the spatula and the main course begin to be flung about the heated surface, bits and pieces cascading over the sides of the pan. “Somethin’ wrong, Ennis?” Feeling the icy chill in the air, Jack quickly tried to lighten whatever heaviness had begun to weigh down upon them, “That cast iron skillet may not survive the batterin’ you’re givin’ it there, cowboy. Was gonna ask for my eggs fried, but maybe scrambled might be a better bet.”

The grunt that followed was noncommittal.

“Ya do know I’m just havin’ some fun, don’t ya.” “You’re such an asshole, Jack.”   “Don’t mind me, Ennis. You’ve known me long enough. My mouth gets ahead of me. Anyways, was just…just remindin’ ya that…,” he pitched his voice low even though there was no one else within shouting distance to hear what he was about to say.

“That you’re an asshole?”

“Well yeah, that too,” Jack chuckled. “Guess I just wanted to remind ya that I remember every last thing you’ve ever done for me.” Jack cautiously took the spatula from out of Ennis’ hand and set the battered utensil on top of the counter surface, hell-bent on reclaiming the other man’s attention before completing what he wanted to say. Not surprisingly, once deprived of anything useful to do, Ennis automatically directed his view downward in an ingrained effort to steer clear of any discomforting eye contact, naturally slipping back into a sheltered state of brooding detachment.

Far too skilled in the fine art of coaxing Ennis Del Mar from out of his self imposed exile, Jack had no need to draw up any elaborate plan of action; he simply responded by placing two carefully poised fingers underneath the dejected chin. Without much resistance, he gingerly guided the man’s gaze back upward, “Includin’ all that you’re doin’ for me right now.” Met with only silence, Jack slid his hand upward and with the soft pads of his thumb and index finger began to gently caress the soft tissue of Ennis’ right ear lobe in a familiar soothing gesture.

“Hmmm.” Ennis closed his eyes before trying to turn away, but Jack already had wedged his body to impede any retreating motion.

“Not finished. Even though we were just kids up on Brokeback, didn’t take me long to figure out that my bitchin’ had ya payin’ attention. Got ya to stop focusin’ on those sheep ya felt so damn loyal too. Stopped ya from followin’ Aguirre’s stupid ass rules.” Jack stepped back to let the other man escape if he wanted, but when no effort was made, he continued, “There was a time when ya never let me down, Ennis. Like I said this past week, maybe my problem was that after your divorce, I just stopped askin’.”

Without a word of encouragement or disapproval, Ennis picked up the spatula and resumed their dinner preparations.

“Ennis? Please don’t shut me out. I wanna talk about this.”

“Sometimes ya ask too much, Jack. Ever think of that?” Ennis looked over and noticed an all too recognizable glumness begin to take shape, the rounded shoulders and averted eyes that normally had no problem greeting anyone, clearly identifiable.

“If those dogs are ready, why don’t ya dump ‘em on in here, huh?” Without another word, Jack scooped up the pieces of processed meat and quickly dropped the sliced franks into the potato and onion concoction. Giving the man some space to gather his thoughts, he hoped Ennis would resume where they had left off, without additional prodding.

After a minute or two of hearing the wayward buzz of a fly seeking escape through the kitchen window screen, Ennis looked up from his stirring activity, knowing he needed to give Jack something. “You’re always pushin’, Jack. Wantin’ more. I’m not like you.” He knew what needed to be said and had to have faith that Jack would understand. Normally, Jack could read his thoughts, but somehow on this particular day, he seemed to insist that Ennis had to take the lead. Over the eventful week they had just spent together, Ennis had made some promises and he figured he should try to keep as many as possible or, at least, make an honest effort toward that goal.   “Ya forget, bud. I didn’t divorce Alma. She divorced me.” Jack sucked in an uneven breath, but somehow still found the strength to quietly nod with a slow understanding. The breathing space enabling some time to elapse in the hopes a little of the sting of what had been said would begin to wane. He rested his back against the kitchen counter, before crossing his arms and responding without heat, without the need to find fault. “Don’t ya ever want more, Ennis? I mean what we’re doin’ now is ‘bout havin’ more, ain’t it? Changin’ things for the better. Or, are ya sayin’ that maybe I should stop tryin’? That you really are okay with the way things are. That maybe… all we’re ever gonna have between us,” Jack voice caught in his throat,” is Brokeback Mountain.” Ennis swallowed so hard that he was sure Jack could see his throat moving up and down, the strain in the air an agonizing testament to how much was at stake. This was one of those turning points, no doubt one of many more to come. Ennis could feel the room spinning around him as he watched Jack stiffen, blue eyes filling with something that looked like a knotted up jumble of hope and foreboding.   “I’m not sure what we’re doin’ here,” he saw how Jack seemed to want to say something, maybe something harsh and cutting, but then he suddenly bit his lip and just waited.

“Want to be honest, bud. That okay?” Ennis poured everything he felt into that two-worded question, recognizing that Jack soon may be all out of patience with his never ending inability to envision a future together. “Just know that I need more time. Up on Brokeback, everythin’ was goin’ so fast, I didn’t think much past that summer. Didn’t have to. No one else was around. I was sure whatever was happenin’ was just a one shot thing. It was like we were in our own little world. Everythin’ seemed kinda… simple. When I shot that buck for ya, all I knew was that you was tired of beans.”

Ennis gave one of those lopsided grins that unfailingly made something in Jack’s stomach flip. “If ya remember right, ya couldn’t shoot for shit and didn’t care ‘bout breakin’ no rules to get want ya wanted. Didn’t have much choice with all that missing of yours. Those Game and Fish Wardens sure as shit would have caught us, if I hadn’t taken pity on ya.” Ennis’ mouth quirked at the memory, “Didn’t no one ever tell ya that ya need to aim your rifle sights first, settle on the target, before slowly squeezing that trigger?” Having already dumped the main course into a serving bowl, Ennis turned back toward the stove and cracked four eggs into the skillet. Glad to have the hissing and popping sounds momentarily provide a much needed distraction from the nostalgic topic under discussion.

In stark contrast to what Ennis had just said about not knowing what they were doing, Jack watched the perfect homespun scene continue to play out before him. When it came to his man, proximity had always worked in his favor which, to his way of thinking, meant he had a decided advantage in this particular battle of dueling wills. Deep down, he knew that his lack of patience had often worked against him prior to this trip down the mountain. This time, however, perhaps because there was so much more time to let things settle and mend, a strategy of determined persistence might just bear the kind of fruit he had been seeking for nearly fifteen years. After all, no one could get under Ennis Del Mar’s skin, and inside his heart, like a tenacious Jack Twist.

“Ya know, I was skilled enough to set my sights on you, wasn’t I?” Jack leaned over and waggled his eyebrows for comic effect. “Seems like my gun’s been goin’ off mighty fine ever since.” Ennis paused for a second to fully absorb what had been said, then let out a full blown laugh. The kind of free and easy flowing outburst Jack only had heard when they were up in the high meadows, hiding away from the world. Going in for a quick kiss, Jack wrapped his arms around the other man’s waist and smiled. Ennis may not be where he wanted him to be just yet, but he was here in his kitchen, making a dinner for two while participating in a civil conversation about how to make this thing between them work in the real world.

Indulgent brown eyes looked back with all kinds of fondness, as their foreheads came together naturally. “Best be eatin’while everything’s still hot.” Jack continued to beam, “Let’s do that,” then another much needed kiss before heading off to enjoy their first home cooked meal together, on a table with real chairs for support and something other than the sky above them for shelter.

You haven’t got a chance, cowboy. Got plenty of ammunition left and there’s no way I’m not hitting my target this time.

Tbc