A Month of Sundays: Chapter 21
Title: A Month of Sundays
Pairing: Jack/Ennis
Genre: AU/AU
Author: mrs-spamlad
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Jack Twist is a professional sign language interpreter who is unhappy in his job. Ennis Del Mar is a pastry chef who owns his own business and teaches classes at a culinary center. Can Ennis help Jack find the ingredient that is missing in his life?
Disclaimer: Brokeback Mountain and the original characters of Jack, Ennis, Lureen and Alma were created by and belong to Annie Proulx. No money is being made from this- I’m just taking them out for a spin!
Feedback: Please tip your waitress J
A/N: An on we go! There will be one more chapter after this one (unless I get exceptionally wordy for some reason). In this chapter, we see the return of Erik, Jack’s ex. Since it’s been a while, if you need a refresher on who he is, have a look back at the chapter written by camillar. Find it here: http://mrs-spamlad.livejournal.com/11137.html
Thanks to Judy for her quick and awesome beta work, and thanks to Camilla for reading along with it as I wrote.
Thanks for hanging in with this story - we’re almost done!
jill
Chapter 21
Ennis pulled out of the parking lot, his mind set on getting to wherever Jack was as fast as humanly possible, and promptly came to a halt. A long line of bright red brake lights illuminated the main street out of the village where the culinary center was located.
“Shit!” he huffed, slamming the heel of his hand on the steering wheel.
There were two colleges as well as a sizeable concert venue nearby, so he could only guess that some event had ended and this was the mass exodus out of town and back to the city. He glanced in his rearview mirror, thinking for a second that he could backtrack and try to find another route to the highway, but there were already cars lined up behind him. He heaved a sigh and settled in with no choice but to crawl toward his destination.
*****
It was nearly ten-thirty by the time Ennis made it into the city. After a few wrong turns, he located the street the club was on. It was a hip section of downtown, the streets lined with clubs and bars, most of them with people spilling out onto the sidewalk in front of them. The parking was mostly street parking, and he drove by slowly, scanning for a spot but came up with nothing. He finally found a spot two streets over; he parallel-parked in a few quick moves, then hopped out, locked his vehicle and headed off, jogging in the direction of the club.
He came up to the entrance and waited impatiently, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he stood in the short line of people waiting to get in. He got in the door and stepped up to the woman handling admission, momentarily taken aback because she was taller than him by several inches.
“ID and ten dollar cover, sweetheart,” she said with a wink. She brushed a bleached-blonde strand of hair off her forehead and dabbed a finger at the corner of her eye, careful not to smudge the heavy lines of her makeup. Ennis dug his wallet out of his back pocket, pulled out his license and handed it over with a ten-dollar bill. She put the money into a box on the podium where she stood, then shifted her dark eyes down to his license and back up at him.
“All set, handsome,” she said, handing him back his license. “Stop by and see me later.” She winked again and Ennis jammed his license back into his wallet, mumbled, “Thanks,” and went into the club.
The interior was dark, with lots of flashing, colored lights, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. He saw the bar first, immediately to his left, so he headed there and found a spot to lean while he tried to figure out how the hell he was going to find Jack in the mass of people. He was contemplating ordering a beer when his gaze settled on the couple right next to him, locked in an embrace, tongues tangling and hands groping everywhere they could. He blinked and looked them briefly up and down, trying to get his head around what he was seeing: they were two men. Or boys, anyway, since they looked to be not much past eighteen or so. He jerked his head away and took a deep breath. With clearer vision he scanned the crowd again and saw guys gyrating together on the dance floor, coupled up at the bar, doing god-knew-what in the darker corners. There were some women scattered here and there, but there was no mistaking it: he was most definitely in a gay club.
Just then, the bartender sauntered over, smiled and asked, “What can I get you?”
Ennis took one more furtive glance at the couple next to him as one of them moaned, then looked at the bartender, his muscled forearms covered in tattoos and his skintight black shirt plastered over his chiseled chest like a second skin. Silently cursing the stirring he felt below his belt, he answered, “Whiskey. Double.”
A minute later, the bartender slid his drink over to him, and Ennis put a ten down on the bar to cover it. While he didn’t plan on drinking to get drunk, he definitely needed something to help him chill out until he figured out what the hell he was going to do. He downed it quickly, wincing at the burning feeling as he swallowed, then set the glass back down on the bar. He stayed put for a few minutes in hopes that the alcohol would start to take effect before he made his next move, when a voice that was a strange combination of high and husky echoed out from the speaker system and throughout the club.
“Excuse me! Ladies and Gentlemen, can I have your attention for a moment?”
Ennis looked over toward the stage at the opposite end of the club and saw a woman at the microphone, waving her hands to get everyone’s attention. She looked even taller than the one who’d been at the door, and he finally fit the pieces together in his head. Drag show. Jesus. While he had nothing against the idea in theory, it was a whole different ballgame to be standing in the middle of one.
The woman - or man - on stage started to rattle off a list of upcoming events and thanks to people who had made the current night’s show possible. Ennis listened with vague attention until a movement at the side of the stage caught his eye. He squinted, trying to get a better look, but there was no mistaking it: a very off-duty-looking Jack, with his tie loosened and hanging around his neck, the top two buttons on his shirt opened, and his sleeves rolled up, hopped up onto the lowest step at the side of the stage. He waved his hands at some people in the front Ennis couldn’t see, then started signing as the woman spoke. Ennis could see another signing pair of hands down front, and Jack kept glancing down, watching them and looking like he was trying not to laugh.
The presenter said a final thank-you and strode off stage like she was wearing Converse sneakers instead of five-inch platform heels. Ennis continued to watch as Jack finished signing, then paused, hands on his hips, as he watched what the person in front of him was saying. Jack lifted his hands like he was going to respond, but an arm reached up, clamped around his wrist and dragged him down off the step. His expression went from surprise to laughter as he disappeared into the crowd. Ennis gritted his teeth. He didn’t know what, exactly, was going on, but he wasn’t going to just stand around anymore, waiting to find out.
He pushed off from the bar and headed into the throngs of people on the packed dance floor. He immediately started to sweat from a combination of nerves and the rising temperature as he waded further into the club. Thankfully, he’d had the sense to ditch his chef’s jacket, so he was clad only in the white t-shirt he wore under it and a pair of flat-front black pants. As he worked his way toward the spot where he’d seen Jack, a short, thin guy with spiky red hair and enough makeup on for three people appeared in front of him and began gyrating to the beat, smiling and thrusting his hips at Ennis. Ennis stopped, once again unsure what to do, but finally managed a quick smile and a shake of his head. The guy smiled back, blew him a kiss and danced his way to the next guy.
Ennis sighed and kept going. He hoped he found Jack soon, because his reserve of resolve was rapidly waning. It had taken everything he had to come after Jack, but he hadn’t been prepared for anything like this. He craned his neck, sure he was pretty close to where Jack had been standing, trying to see over the crowd for some sign of him. He was just about ready to give up and head back to the bar to reformulate his plan when the group of people right in front of him moved, and there was Jack, smiling at some guy who had his arms looped around Jack’s waist. It only took Ennis a second to place the guy - his mind flew back to that afternoon when they had been walking back to Jack’s place after seeing a movie, and they had run into Jack’s ex, Erik. The very same Erik who was trying to pull Jack closer right now, letting go of Jack with one hand so he could sign something he punctuated with a sleazy smile.
The corner of Jack’s mouth turned up and his eyes shifted to the floor. Ennis could tell he wasn’t totally comfortable with whatever was going on, though he wasn’t making a move to leave, either. He thought about shouting Jack’s name to get his attention but knew it was unlikely that Jack would hear him over the blaring house music. Jack raised a hand to respond to whatever Erik had said, and Ennis, without any kind of plan for this at all, stepped forward into his line of sight. Jack froze, staring at him, and Ennis could read his name on Jack’s lips.
“Ennis?” Jack looked around, brows furrowed like he was trying to reconcile the idea of straight-laced Ennis in his current environment. Erik turned to look at Ennis, then looked back at Jack and rolled his eyes.
Ennis leaned in toward Jack, wrapped his hand lightly around Jack’s arm and said, close to his ear, “Can we talk?”
Jack took a step back, glancing at Erik, then back at Ennis. Finally, he nodded, though Ennis noted he didn’t look entirely thrilled by the prospect. Jack signed something to Erik, who then pointed at Ennis and signed back something that looked pretty emphatic. Jack shook his head and made two final signs, which Ennis could only hope translated to I pick him, then motioned for Ennis to follow him. Ennis did, aware the whole time that this was well and truly his very last chance.
They weaved through the crowd all the way to the back of the club and out a door that led into a courtyard. Picnic tables dotted the yard, and a small fire blazed in a stone fire pit on the patio. People were scattered in groups and couples at tables, around the fire, and further out under the dark of the trees that lined the yard. Ennis kept following, past the patio and the tables, until Jack came to a stop in a quiet, relatively unoccupied corner of grass. Jack turned and looked at him expectantly, his hands on his hips and his expression unreadable.
Ennis jammed his hands in his pockets and looked down. “So… uh, hi,” he said, glancing up when he got no response.
Jack scoffed, looking out into the darkness and then back at Ennis. “Ennis, what the hell are you doing here?” he asked, his tone flat and uninterested.
“Came to see you,” Ennis said, taking a small step closer.
Jack rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Well, I can’t now. I’m working.”
He started to head back in the direction they had come, brushing by Ennis without a second glance. “Oh, is that what you call it?” Ennis murmured without thinking, just loud enough for Jack to hear.
Jack spun around and took a few steps back toward Ennis, coming right into his personal space. “What the fuck did you just say?” he growled, only inches from Ennis’s face.
Shit, Ennis thought. This was not the way he’d wanted things to go, but he couldn’t get the image of Erik with his hands on Jack out of his head. “Just seemed kinda friendly with your client in there,” he mumbled, not meeting Jack’s gaze.
“Fuck you!” Jack said through clenched teeth, pointing his finger at Ennis’s chest. “You do not get to say shit like that to me! For your information, I was working, and the job I was hired to do ended about an hour ago. Now, I’m just hanging out with some friends. Friends who don’t have a meltdown being seen in public with me.”
Ennis sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “Okay. I - I’m sorry. I didn’t come here to fight with you.”
“Well, what the fuck did you think was gonna happen?” Jack said, his voice getting louder as he threw his hands up in the air. “You completely freak out because I show up where you work, we scream at each other, and then you disappear! You fucking bailed, and I didn’t hear a word from you for almost two weeks! And then, you show up here with something to say about what I’m doing and who I’m with?” He shook his head. “Sorry, friend, it doesn’t work that way.”
Jack paced back and forth as he spoke, and while nothing good was being said, Ennis still felt relieved that he wasn’t heading back inside. “Jack, I know, I fucked up, okay? I - I did call, though,” Ennis offered weakly.
Jack stopped moving for a second and looked at him. “Yeah. I know. And you left some fucking half-assed message a week and a half later. What the hell was I supposed to do with that, huh? Maybe I’m an idiot, but I thought we were past that kind of shit. I thought we were more than that.”
Jack’s tone softened on his last sentence, and Ennis thought he detected a minute crack in Jack’s I-don’t-give-a-shit exterior. “I was gonna talk to you before that!” Ennis exclaimed. “The next Sunday, in class, but you never came.”
“You really thought that I’d show up? After you blew me off right in front of Little Miss God-Hates-Fags? Jesus, you could barely even talk to me that night.”
It was more than clear to Ennis at this point that Jack wasn’t only mad, but hurt, too. “Jack… I’m sorry, really. I just - I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.”
Jack sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “What do you want, Ennis?” he asked, sounding drained and tired.
Ennis opened his mouth, praying that somehow he’d say the right thing. “I want… I don’t know - I thought that we could… I mean…,” he stammered, on the spot and unable to put into words the exact reason why he’d shown up at the club.
Jack’s mouth set in a tight line and he nodded slowly. “That’s what I thought,” he said quietly. “’Bye, Ennis.”
Jack turned and strode across the yard toward the entrance to the club as Ennis’s brain shot frantic signals to his feet. Go! Move! Realizing that his last chance was almost out of his sight, Ennis jogged across the grass and caught up to Jack near the fire pit. He grabbed Jack’s wrist and tugged him to a stop.
“Jack, wait!” he said, unaware that all the conversations in their vicinity also stopped at his words. Jack turned around slowly and Ennis kept a firm grip on him. “I came here because I want… I want to fix this,” he said, gesturing at the space between the two of them.
“Fix it?” Jack asked skeptically. He shook his head and started to pull away again, but Ennis kept his hold and kept the words coming for once.
“I want to fix it because I was scared as shit before about people knowing about us, and talking about me, and my job, and… whatever. But what scares me even more is the thought of never seeing you again.” The words tumbled out fast, and Ennis took a deep, shuddering breath at the end. The night fell silent and Ennis closed his eyes and raked his hand through his hair. When he looked back at Jack, he saw the faint traces of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “What?” Ennis asked.
Jack looked down at the ground for a few seconds, then back up at Ennis, his expression unguarded for the first time. “Looks like maybe you finally got one right,” he said quietly. “You mean that?”
Ennis stepped closer and slid his grasp down Jack’s wrist and into his hand. “Yeah,” he said. “More than anything.”
“Okay, then,” Jack said, giving his hand a quick squeeze. “Let’s talk.”
They left the courtyard to a smattering of applause from the impromptu audience to their little drama, but Ennis didn’t care. He was with Jack, and this time, he was not letting him go.
TBC
today
yesterday