Two Days

Feb 23, 2008 22:00

 Title:  Two Days
Author: Isabelle (sophieernie)
Rating:  NC-17
Warning:  canon, AliveJack, references (lots) to m/m sex, masturbation
Author's Note: 
sienata and 
lolitaray's Lovefest challenge at brokebackslash is what inspired this.  Like most things I write, it just pops into my head and I start typing.  When I plan and wait and reread, reread, reread, I tend to over think and run out of steam.  I am already breaking the rules, so as of right now, I won't tag it Lovefest or put it forth has an 'official entry' (haven't we gotten fancy in BBM slash ;o).  I do want to give credit where it is due and I hope this little PWP about Ennis missing Jack can do what it is intended to do.  Bring some f**kin good cheer around here.  I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.

Unbetaed, a little over a thousand words.  Dedicated to all of us (as mentioned above) who are tired of being depressed.  Happy  smexing!   Canon Ennis is just about to see Jack and the anticipation is getting to him.  Post-divorce/pre-"I wish I knew how to quit you."



Ten fuckin’ months this time.  And it was his doin’.  Jack wanting to make it June, but since the divorce, money’d been tight, and a thousand other reasons…  Jack never wanted to hear the reasons why, he just got that distant, resigned look on his face, staring at Ennis, then sighing defeated when Ennis couldn’t hold the eye contact.  Stop fuckin’ remembering that part, he told himself, start remembering the good stuff.  Jack laughin, Jack teasin’, Jack kissin’,  Jack fuckin’.  Yeah, dammit Ennis, think about that…  Jack fuckin’, fuckin’ Jack, think on that part.  He could almost make himself feel it.  If he tried just hard enough and was the perfect amount of buzzed.  His fist slicked up with Vaseline, gripping him so tight, the head swelled with the pressure on his upstroke.  So tight, almost unbearably tight.  So good it bordered on pain.  Ain’t nothin so tight as Jack, the tightest, softest, hottest hole he’d ever stuck his dick in.  Alma was tight back there too, but…  Wasn’t the same…

It was getting to be once, twice even three times a day thing (like last Wednesday when he’d tried to ignore the boss’s new son-in-law laughed like Jack).  He woke up with a baseball bat between his legs, pulling on it, trying to pretend it was Jack’s hand, or Jack’s mouth (that was a good one), or Jack’s ass, cum spilling over before he ever opened his eyes in the morning.  After work, he tried to hold off in the shower, b/c the whiskey and darkness always made it better, but like last Wednesday, he couldn’t stop himself.  Jack with him, not leaving him alone, teasing him and seducing him from thousands a miles away.   Once the countdown to Jack-time began, his dick went into fuckin overdrive.  Now it was two days til Jack, only two fuckin’ days.

He now let himself start planning for that man, instead of just remembering.  Would they dance around this shit for hours like they did sometimes or would something snap when they saw each other and he’d be up to the hilt in that man right away?  He sometimes liked the waitin.  Likin to deny himself, see how strong he could be, make Jack the weak one for a change.  Then, when they finally gave in, in the tent, it wasn’t the clothes-still-on-truck-door-still-open fuck he craved, but a whole body experience.  Jack on his back, Jack pretendin it was his idea, but both knowin Ennis loved seein Jack spread out before him with those blue eyes and swollen lips lookin drugged and lost.  Jack’s dick an angry red against his belly, curling just a little bit, leavin wet trails in his dark hair.  His hairy fuckin’ balls drawn up, huggin the base of his dick, and then-god, fuck, he loved watchin from that angle.  His dick slidin into Jack, makin Jack’s dick jump and quiver, almost drippin from the sensations.  Jack makin those noises, deep guttural moans, grunting when Ennis got the angle just fuckin right, draggin his dick across that gland, putting Jack over the moon.  His chest, neck and shoulders blotched with red, veins in his neck and forehead showin themselves.  Jack tryin not to touch himself, knowin if he did the show’d be over too soon, and Ennis knew, wanting Ennis to do it.

He would drag it out as long as he possibly could, throwin his head back and biting on to the inside of his cheek to gain some damn control.  Jack’s moanin signaling his pace, was a fuckin joke to think he was ever the one in control.  Jack runnin the show, even on his back with his legs spread wide and a dick up his ass.  He wouldn’t let himself cum til Jack had, sometimes twice if he needed to prove something to that man.  But most a the time, especially the first couple a days, the odor of Jack’s semen would end it all.  Hard to fuckin admit what finally sent him over the edge was smelling spunk.  Jack’s before-smells were hot as hell too…  That city-boy cologne he wore, whatever expensive-ass laundry soap Lureen used and his sweat.   Clean-Jack was empty of smells, but ripe-Jack got him hard as fuckin iron.  The smell of slidin into him over and over fillin up the tent, a smell anyone else would cringe at.  You could never conjure up smells in a fantasy, just the sounds and sights, but never that man’s smells, Ennis had lamented on this cruelty for years.

Finally, his self-control about to snap, after hearin Jack’s throaty, growlin please, Jesus Ennis, please, stop teasin me, he’d reach down and wrap his hand around Jack, firmly, tightly, like how he gripped himself right now.  Jack’s eyes hidin nothing, starin at Ennis, tryin to push up on his elbows so he could see it happen, lickin his lower lip at the sight of Ennis pushin’ and pullin’.  sofuckingoodEnnissofuckinggood, uh, uh, fuuuck  this was Ennis’ favorite part, makin Jack cum made him feel more powerful than the fuckin president, the swell in his pride matchin his dick, not stoppin, knowin after so many years how to drag Jack’s orgasm out.  That man grunting and hissin cuss words, spurtin milky white up over his belly and chest, floatin on top of the fur like pearls.

He could picture this all so perfectly in his mind, practiced and honed in various connotations over the years, and finally let it all go.  The searing pleasure coursing through his body, makin his jaw clench and a deep groan force its way out of his throat.  His dick was throbbin, pulsin, shooting arcs of white out of his fist, and then, it was over.  He hated this part, rememberin he was alone, Jack in Texas.  The fantasy fadin back into bleak, stark reality.  He was alone in his lumpy bed, covered in his own cum, Jack seemin even farther away now.  Two days, he said in his mind, his countdown a reassuring mantra.  Only two days til they was together.  Two days, less than 48 hours.  He fell asleep smilin, rememberin, planning.  One more day of work, one more night alone, then 9 days and 10 nights of Jack…  Don’t think any more, he said, sleep, sooner you sleep, sooner you’ll be to Jack.

jack, sophieernie, two days, nc-17, canon, pwp, ennis

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