Goin' Fishin' - Chapter 3 - Settin' Bait
Author's Note #1: In case you've forgotten, in this storyette (which will probably be told only from Jack's POV), Ennis and Jack are co-workers (air traffic controllers, hehehehe) and have been friends since they met a year ago. They have their same families from the OS. Both of their lives have hit a flat spot, and in recent months Jack has become increasingly aware of Ennis in ways that he can't quite understand. When Ennis suggests a fishing trip, Jack agrees to go, wondering if they might possibly get up to more than casting flies while they're gone. Sure enough, he's right!, all at Ennis's instigation, no less, and we resume this tale right where it left off last.... welcome to the awkward and uncomfortable morning after. I apologize in advance for the fact that my P's got confused, and this PWP is actually Plot w/out Porn. There is a second A.N. at the end to make up for that in a small way.
Jack woke up later, when the morning sun had climbed high into the sky, making it hot and sticky inside the tent, but even with the heat, he and Ennis were still tangled up together on the sleeping bags, Ennis’s arm possessive around Jack’s waist. Although the tent was made of dark green canvas which kept it naturally gloomy, it was still fairly bright inside and the air was thick and stifling. Colorado was suffering through an unusual September heat wave. Normally by now, they’d be getting frost. Jack hadn’t even listened to the forecast before they left home, but he was more than ready for the heat to break.
How fucking weird was this, to be lying in Ennis’s arms, with Ennis’s dick practically poking a hole in his butt cheek, and wondering about the weather? But the weather was safe, and that’s what people talked about when they didn’t want to deal with shit, and so that’s where Jack sent his mind to rest for a few minutes while he tried to adjust to what was going on. He didn’t know what they were doing, if this was just a fucked up accident brought on by too much whiskey and not enough nookie at home, or if this was the real deal and he and Ennis were starting something new that was going to take their lives in a different direction from what they’d always thought and planned. No, he didn't know for sure what they were doing, but fucked up as it was, he liked the direction they were going.
Jack lay still, not wanting to deal with anything just yet, the ache in his ass strong enough to remind him of what they’d done, but not harsh enough to scare him off from doing it again. He breathed in the smells of the closed in tent - mildewed canvas, stale sex, fresh sweat and morning breath.... nothing you’d want to bottle up and try to sell folks at Christmas, but he liked it all the same, because he felt better where he was than he’d felt in a long time, and these were the smells that they’d made together, the smells of him and his best friend getting as friendly as two people can possibly get.
After a few minutes, however, nature commenced making her call, and Jack eased away from Ennis, left him still sleeping and made his way outside. He found their privy supplies, a roll of toilet paper and a small garden trowel, and headed off into the woods.
~
Ennis was standing outside the tent, wearing his shorts from the night before, looking around anxiously when Jack walked back into camp. As soon as Jack came into view, Ennis started towards him. “Where’d you go?” he asked, and Jack could hear through the gruffness of his tone that he’d been worried.
“Just testing out the facilities,” he told him, brandishing the tissue before he tossed it and the spade down on a grassy spot beside the tent.
“You ok?” Ennis asked, worried.
“Yeah. I’m fine,” Jack said nonchalantly, shrugging it off. There'd been some pain, and he still ached some back there, but he wasn't about to tell Ennis.
They stared at each other for a minute in uneasy silence. Jack could've cared less about his butt at this point, had a million more important questions he wanted to ask, but he was scared that Ennis might come back with something he didn’t want to hear, might smash the fragile bubble of hope that was blooming in his chest for something more. Jack didn’t know what he was hoping for or why he even wanted it, but the need was there all the same, and he wanted to keep it safe as long as he could.
It made no sense on the face of things, because he was married, and although he couldn’t remember when he’d last felt genuine love for his wife, he did love his son, and - overall - he loved his life. He and Lureen had done well for themselves with their careers, had a nice house and nice cars and most anything they wanted any time they wanted it. Except sex...... he hadn’t gotten any of that at his house in a long time. And conversation....... he couldn’t remember the last time he and Lureen had talked about anything more profound than saving for Bobby’s college fund.
And love...... maybe some guys didn’t care about that, but Jack did, and he missed it. He knew what it was like to feel love, because he loved the shit out of Bobby, and that love was returned in full measure. He’d loved Lureen once, back in the beginning, but that was dead on the vine now. He barely even knew her anymore - how could you love someone you didn’t know?
But he knew Ennis. They’d been almost inseparable since the day they’d hooked up a year ago when Ennis had come to work in his area. Jack had spent almost six months training him, but Ennis was a natural when it came to working airplanes, so the training had been a formality mostly. Still, they’d worked up close - in each other’s space - for a long time, taken their breaks together and eaten their lunches together, their talk getting more and more intimate as the months passed till they knew almost everything there was to know about each other. When Ennis’s training was done and he’d gotten signed off, they’d just continued on in that way without saying anything about it. That’s just the way it was with them.
Now, for the first time in a very long time, Jack felt like he didn’t know exactly where he stood with Ennis. Although Ennis had been the one to instigate things, and Ennis had been the one to come prepared - which Jack still wasn’t sure about - he felt that this new thing between them was fragile and tentative, and he didn’t want to make any sudden moves that might rip it up. Since Ennis had been the one to start it, he was going to hang back and see how Ennis wanted things to go.
Ennis seemed content to let it be, at least for the time being, because after a long minute of looking Jack up and down, he nodded and the odd moment passed and they got down to the business of getting the camp going for the morning. Ennis made a fire while Jack got a pot of coffee ready to go, then Ennis started cooking their breakfast. Ennis could cook better over a campfire than Jack could on his Jennaire stove at home, so he was happy to sip his coffee and leave him to it.
They ate in peaceful silence, country ham and hashbrowns with bits of onions chopped up in them, and biscuits. Ennis had even made some red-eye gravy. It was tasty, and Jack ate every bite, said, “Thanks, Ennis, that was awesome,” when he’d sopped the last of his gravy up and his plate was almost clean again.
Ennis mumbled, “You’re welcome. Glad you liked it,” around his last bite of food, and Jack would almost swear that he blushed, something he’d never seen before in all the time he’d known Ennis.
They put the food away, then Ennis said he needed to make a stop in the woods and Jack said fine, he’d wash the dishes. He gathered up their things while Ennis got the supplies and headed off into the trees. Jack watched him until he disappeared into a sea of golden leaves, then headed on down to the river.
The water was ice cold, but it was always that way, and it actually felt good in the heat of the still morning. Jack squatted in the shallows, washing their dishes. When everything was clean, he stacked them on the bank, and on impulse shucked off his damp boxers and waded back into the icy water, eager to wash away the sticky leftovers from what they’d done. He waded out just far enough so that when he squatted his asshole got submerged, and the cold rush of the running water across it eased away the sharpest layer of his discomfort.
After a few minutes of chilly but blissful butt-soaking, Jack splashed water all over the rest of himself, ran his hands wet and dripping through his hair a few times, then turned back towards the bank. He stopped short when he saw Ennis standing there watching him, a towel hanging from one hand. Ennis hadn’t stopped walking until he was ankle-deep in the water and the end was floating in the shallows, getting soaked. The look on his face was the same one Jack had gotten accustomed to seeing all morning, remote and closed off, not hostile but giving nothing away either. Jack started walking towards him again, considering other things beyond his shuttered expression as he approached - the way Ennis’s jaw was clenched tight, the way his hand had a fisted chokehold on the towel that he seemed to have forgotten all about.
“What’s going on, Ennis? You look like you’re ready to fight somebody,” Jack said softly when he got close enough for Ennis to hear.
“Sorry. Just a little bit off this morning,” Ennis answered, and Jack watched his eyes as he got closer, saw them darting around quickly, checking him out. The solemn mask cracked at last when Ennis got down to his dick and balls, or what used to be his dick and balls before they shriveled up to nothing in the ice cold river.
“Damn Bud, that’s kinda embarrassing,” he smirked, looking right at Jack’s shrunken package.
“Yeah, well you go soak yours in that fucking snow bath and we’ll just see what you come dragging outta there. Won’t be that monster cock you’re sporting right now, that’s for damn sure,” Jack replied, riled up and feeling out of control all of a sudden. He stopped just a foot in front of Ennis, staring him down, breathing hard, hands on his hips.
The small smiled died on Ennis’s lips as quick as it had been born, and he hung his head shamefully. “I’m sorry Jack. Fuck! Did I hurt you with it?”
“What the fuck are you talkin' about? You mean my ass?” Jack asked, still pissed. His ass was the last thing he was worried about at this point. When Ennis nodded, looking confused, Jack said, “My ass is fine, Ennis. Nothin’ a day or two of easy livin’ won’t take care of.”
Ennis nodded, but he still wouldn’t meet Jack’s gaze, and Jack wanted to shake him and yell Talk to me, asshole! but he didn’t, just pointed at the towel and asked, “You bring that for me?”
“Yeah,” Ennis mumbled, and handed it over. “Guess I oughta get cleaned up too,” he added, and started slowly toeing off his sneakers. He picked them up, walked back up on the bank and set them down again, then, with his back still to Jack, he slid off his shorts and started walking, naked, towards the river.
Even though there wasn't anything particulary odd about what Ennis had done, Jack was in a cantankerous mood and he wanted to dig at him. “Hey!” Jack shouted.
Ennis stopped but didn’t turn around, just flexed his shoulders and waited, and Jack could feel the unhappiness coming off him in waves. “What?”
“Come on, man. Turn around! You ain’t gettin’ outta this scott free! I wanna see your before version, so I can make a good comparison and laugh at your shriveled up little dick when you get out!”
Ennis’s shoulders slumped and he shook his head.
Jack laughed harshly. “What the fuck? You’re all shy all of a sudden?” he baited him, walking up to where Ennis was standing at the waters edge. He knew he was playing with fire, fucking with Ennis like this when he was already off in some unknown headspace, but Jack didn’t care. He was tired of Old Stoneface that he’d been dealing with all morning.
“No, it’s just that you ain’t gonna get a reasonable comparison if you look at it right now,” Ennis said quietly.
“How come?” Jack asked, grabbing him by the arm as he swung around in front of him to take a look at Ennis’s pre-river privates.
“Holy shit!” Jack gasped. Ennis's dick was swollen up hard and tight, and it seemed even bigger out in the light of day than it had to his half-drunk self that morning in the dim light of the tent. No wonder he was still sore..... Jesus!
“I’m sorry, Jack,” Ennis mumbled, and there was no doubt he was blushing now, his face a blaze of fiery red as they both stared down at his engorged cock, the little drops of moisture on the tip glinting in the late morning sun. "Guess I’d better get started washing..... probably gonna take a while to get this shrunk down.” Ennis pulled his arm free from Jack’s hold and headed out into the cold, rushing water.
~
Jack watched until Ennis was waist deep in the frigid river, then turned back to the shore and left him to it. He dropped the damp towel on the ground by Ennis’s shoes, grabbed up their breakfast dishes and went back to camp.
When Ennis got back from his swim twenty minutes later, Jack was dressed and had his fishing gear out, fiddling with his flies. He didn’t look up when Ennis walked into camp, and neither one spoke while Ennis got dressed. Jack wondered how things had managed to get so fucked up between them. Even though what they’d done that morning was totally unplanned - at least on his part - it had still seemed like they were both okay with it at the time. And Ennis had obviously planned on it, must’ve been wanting them to get together for a while since he’d come prepared with condoms and a bottle of lube. But no matter how much Ennis had thought he wanted to do it, from all the sadness oozing out of him now it was pretty obvious that he was locked up with regret, and that hurt Jack in a way he wasn’t really prepared to think about.
tbc............
Author's Note #2: Here is the link to a youtube video of my music for this entry. I hope you enjoy it. Someone else turned me on to it - thanks, WL!! Not work safe.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H3s_1L4CI0g