The Dance: Chapter 15 - Make Me Live
Genre & Rating: Canon/AU, R (finally) for sexual content.
Disclaimer: Jack and Ennis were created by the Great and Mighty Annie Proulx. I'm just the dude behind the yellow curtain working the lights and using the Big Voice microphone.
Summary: This is the continuation of The Package, and takes place after Ennis and Alma's divorce. Ennis has moved to Kansas and is trying to find a way for him and Jack to be together. The road is bumpy and uneven but each small step brings both Jack and Ennis closer to the dance.
Thanks: To my steadfast and loyal beta
poppyhoney_67 and my peach bellini beta
mississaugared. How lucky am I to have such awesome betaness in my corner.
A special thanks to
tmn1966. There are some elements in this chapter that came to me while I was doing beta work on Now Am Undone, including the title song. See, Teri? What did I tell you. You did inspire me.
A/N: Please, please, please believe me when I tell you I posted this as early as I could. It's not an excuse, but my family was involved in a charity event where we, as a family, raised almost $11K for Cancer Research. I'm not proud of the fact that it took me six weeks to get this chapter to you, but I am proud that my family was involved in an event that raised $14 Million for Cancer Research.
I'm not gonna lie, I've been so busy there were times when I was tempted to throw in the towel and stop writing. But there's no way I can quit on you guys. So if you're willing to stick it out, I promise this story will be finished. I can't guarantee the time frame, but you have my word this story will be completed.
The Dance: Chapter 15 - Make Me Live
You’re My Best Friend
Words & Music by John Deacon, performed by Queen.
Ooh, you make me live
Whatever this world can give to me
It's you, you're all I see
Ooh, you make me live now honey
Ooh, you make me live
Oh, you're the best friend
That I ever had
I've been with you such a long time
You're my sunshine
And I want you to know
That my feelings are true
I really love you
(ooh) oh, you're my best friend………..
Oh, you're the first one
When things turn out bad
You know I'll never be lonely
You're my only one
And I love the thing
I really love the things that you do
Oh, you're my best friend
Oh, ooh, you make me live
I'm happy (happy at home)
You're my best friend
Oh, oh, you're my best friend
Ooh, you make me live
Oo oo ooh
You, you're my best friend
<><><><><><><><><>
Ennis watched, mesmerised, as his beer bottle danced drunkenly across his kitchen table. He hadn’t even realized his knee was bumping up against the table, until he reached out blindly for his beer and his hand missed its mark. It was then that he noticed the bottle had travelled a few inches from where he’d placed it, skittering to its present position due to the nervous jiggle of his knee.
Dammit all to hell, he was as jumpy as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. You’d think he was waitin’ on the Queen of England to show instead a Jack Fucking Twist from Childress, Texas come to stay a few nights. He’d even cleaned behind his stove. What kinda person does that? One that was batshit crazy, tell you what, cleaning like a fiend over some guy who probably couldn’t care less. But still…Ennis’d been inside Jack’s house in Childress and weren’t nothin there looked like it come second hand from the bargain bin at the Salvation Army.
So he’d plopped one of them Tidy Bowl pucks in his toilet, put out fresh clean towels in the bathroom, stocked up on Campbell’s Tomato Soup, and somehow figured out how to fit a double bed in his tiny room.
It had taken some doing, but once he stuck the dresser in his closet, and put his lamp on a stool and got rid of the nightstand, he’d managed to squeeze in his new bed and still have enough room so’s he didn’t feel like the walls were closing in. Ain’t too sure if Missy woulda been too pleased if she knew what her Merry Christmas cheque went towards, but he figured…what the hell. The only bed he and Jack had ever slept on was that lumpy, stained, flea-bitten one back at the Siesta. For some reason, he’d got it into his head that he wanted something better than that for Jack’s visit. Well, for Jack. Something clean and soft, something no one else had ever slept in but them. To Ennis, having that new bed was as necessary as putting out fresh water and fresh straw in each stable. It just had to be done, simple as that.
Once again, he tried to still the restless twitching of his knee but it was no fuckin’ use. It was either that or start sweating again and he’d already taken two showers today. Jack should’ve been here an hour ago. Where the hell was that man? He wished Jack would just show up already and put him outta this misery of waitin’ and wonderin’ and second guessin’.
The past few days had been hectic, sure enough, what with Nick and Janie heading out for California right after he’d come back from spending time with the girls in Riverton. He’d needed that kind of busy to keep him from thinking about the fact that he’d invited Jack to visit him and he wasn’t even trying to hide it. He wasn’t even gonna ask Jack to park his truck out back behind the barn. Even let it slip at the last poker game with the vets that he had a buddy comin’ to visit while Nick and Janie were away. No one even batted an eye, just carried on with their usual banter, and he’d come to realize maybe it was possible to make a life with Jack if they could lay low and stay outta other people’s business.
A life with Jack. Did he have the guts to go through with this? After years of letting his Daddy’s voice drown out his own, was he finally ready to reach out and hold fast what he’d denied himself for so long? Or was he fooling himself into thinking a life with Jack was the answer to everything. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe he just wanted it so bad because he didn’t have it. A case of the grass being greener on the other side. But, well, he liked the colour green, and maybe it was worth whatever it took to get there. Even if people spit on the sidewalk when he walked by. As long as he had Jack to come home to. As long as them tire irons didn’t come….
His thoughts screeched to a halt when he heard a car door slam, followed by the unmistakable sound of boots crunching across the driveway. He closed his eyes and reminded himself of the four simple rules he’d memorized to help him get through this moment with dignity. One: do not run out the door. Two: do not tackle Jack in the driveway. Three: do not rip off any clothing. Four…what was…dammit…four was…. Oh yes. Four: breathe.
He concentrated on Rule Number Four when he heard the floorboards creak as Jack made his way on to the porch. He sighed and looked down at his crotch. That’s all it took, a little sound from Jack and he had a hard-on bigger’n a sirloin steak from Texas.
The polite knock on the door had him jumping up from his chair and taking a few quick steps to the front door, tucking in the back on his shirt as he walked. He took a deep breath then opened the door with a suddenly shaky hand.
“Hey, Jack,” he said, unsurprised at the surge of happiness that bloomed in his chest at the sight of the man standing on his front porch; Jack’s smile so wide Ennis could see laugh lines crinkling at the corners of those electric blue eyes.
“Hey, yourself,” Jack answered, voice husky.
For a second, both men simply stood in front of each other, smiling slightly, hands deep in their pockets, swaying softly like two tall trees dancing in the wind.
“You, uh, gonna come in?” Ennis asked.
“Aww, shucks, I was waitin’ for you to carry me over the threshold.”
“Well, you’d be waitin’ a long time there, friend. Looks like you been enjoyin’ Miss Debra’s pecan pie a bit too much lately by the look of that gut you’re carryin’, seems to me. Ain’t no way I’d be able to carry that load.”
“Hell with you. This here’s what a real man looks like. As opposed to a skinny ass beanpole with a cowboy hat,” quipped Jack. Ennis snorted as he gestured for Jack to come in, leading him into the cottage. “Although…,” Jack continued, “It’s a well known fact that guys by the name a Jack like to climb up bean poles.”
Ennis scrambled to think of something to say to that but for the life of him, he couldn’t find a brain cell in his whole body. “That so?” he sputtered.
“Uh-huh,” said Jack, his expression sly. Jack took a few steps to shorten the distance between them, hands reaching out to bracket Ennis’ hips.
“Well, for your information, Jack climbed a beanstalk not a beanpole,” Ennis whispered, reaching out to put one hand on the nape of Jack’s neck.
“I don’t care,” Jack breathed against his lips.
“Neither do I,” he sighed, folding Jack into his embrace as their lips opened to let each other in, soft and hard, wet and dry, taste so sweet. At last. Home at last.
The build-up was slow, with soft, feathery, kisses that had more to do with “Hello, I missed you,” than “Strap on them spurs, boy, time to make’em jingle!” Ennis thought of them country songs his Mama used to play on the old GE radio in the kitchen, and how the soft, plaintive wail of a lone fiddle used to make his chest hurt as he listened to its high sharp notes. That’s how this kiss started, heavy with feeling, achingly full with everything that had gone on since the last time their lips had spoken this way.
But, like a slow building tide, mere lips could not contain what they felt. They needed tongues, teeth, hands that grasped and caressed, breathing that quickened as each touch spoke of hunger unfulfilled for too long. That old country song changed to one that had banjos and steel strings, with a fast flowing rhythm that demanded stomping feet and hearty claps. And although he could barely breathe, he wanted more, more of this song, more of this dance, more of this driving beat that he could feel thrumming right to the tips of his toes.
A strange clanging sound registered in his ears, as if from far away, and it was this sound that made him push slightly away from a zealous Jack. Jack, unfazed by Ennis disengaging from their lip-lock, simply began nibbling on his neck instead.
Ennis groaned when he heard the clanging sound again, metal against metal, their belt buckles rubbing against each other.
“Uh, Jack? Bud?” Ennis moaned. Jack’s response was a muffled grunt. “Jack, uh, we got all night, you know. Maybe we could, uhh, have some coffee?”
Jack hissed against Ennis’ neck. “What’s with you and your fucking coffee? Who are you, Juan Valdez?”
“Right. Texans don’t drink coffee. Beer, then. Wanna beer?”
Ennis could feel Jack’s tongue lick a path from his neck back up to his lips, giving him one of those lone fiddle kisses before finally drawing away. Jack sighed and took a step back.
“Hey, Ennis, gotta news flash for you.” Jack said sarcastically. “I’m a sure thing. You don’t have to get me liquored up to have your way with me.”
Ennis felt the hot flare of embarrassment on his cheeks. “Geez, I know that. I just…you know…wanna show you around first.”
He knew he was blowing hot and cold, evidenced by the look of confusion on Jack’s face. Yet, for some reason, it was important for him to show Jack this space, this home he’d made, before they got to the bedroom business. Back in Riverton, in his old dusty trailer he hadn’t had much, cause when you got nothin’, you don’t need nothin’. But here…well, the furniture wasn't the greatest, and the walls were mostly bare exceptin’ for them pictures he put up from his girls and some of his students. But here, he’d allowed himself to want somethin’, to need somethin’, and it just didn’t feel right until he’d welcomed his somethin’ good and proper.
Jack must have picked up on whatever it was Ennis was feeling because he nodded once at Ennis, drawing away reluctantly with a thoughtful look on his face, and began to walk around the cottage slowly, smiling softly at the drawings on the walls, reaching out and brushing his hand against the top of the sofa. Jack quirked a brow at Ennis when he picked up a green crayon laying beside the telephone, chuckling softly when Ennis shrugged. Jack put the crayon down and did a three-hundred and sixty degree turn, nodding approvingly when he faced Ennis again.
“This is really nice, Ennis.”
Ennis shifted uncomfortably, fighting the urge to begin biting on his thumbnail. “It ain’t much, but….”
“Hell, no, Ennis, it’s great,” Jack assured him, eyes lit from within by something soft and tender.
“It’s small.”
“Not too small,” Jack said quickly.
Ennis’ insides warmed when he took in the meaning behind Jack’s words. “No, Jack, not too small at all,” he agreed, figuring he was probably doing the gooey look but was past caring.
“The…uh…kitchen’s through here,” he said, gesturing to his left and taking the few steps to get there. Jack followed behind him, taking in the small table with two mismatched chairs, the beige-speckled counter, and the avocado green refrigerator and stove. The cupboards were painted a cheerful lemon yellow, a colour that didn’t seem so cheerful when looked on by bleary, grumpy eyes, resentful at being awake at the crack of dawn. Ennis’d left the tiny window just above the sink slightly open so the curtains billowed slowly, its colour always reminding him of that mushed up chicken dinner in a jar that him and Alma used to feed the girls when they were babies. He sighed when he noticed he’d left his dishes draining in the rack, the chips on his plates and the rings on his jam jar glasses making him hunch his shoulders, knowing Jack probably had a full set of matching dishes in Childress.
“Like I said...it ain’t much. Not like what you got in Childress,” Ennis said gruffly, refusing to apologize for having chipped plates, but frustrated for feeling like he had to.
“Naw, Ennis, this is great,” said Jack, opening and closing the cupboard doors, his voice distant. At Ennis’ snort of disbelief, Jack paused from what he was doing. “Ennis, quit it, you’re being a dumbass. This is fine, I said.”
Ennis just shrugged and turned his back on Jack, facing the window, a knot of shame forming between his shoulder blades. Nothing he could offer was ever going to be enough, never enough. Why’d he insist on showing Jack around when he knew whatever he could offer couldn’t possibly measure up to what Jack already had?
Jack came up and wrapped his arms around Ennis from behind, hooking his chin over Ennis’ shoulder. They swayed slightly, facing the window, Jack’s front pressed tight against Ennis’ back. His shoulders began to relax as he let himself melt into Jack, trying to remind himself that a home was made up of more than chipped plates and mismatched chairs.
“My Mama always served up her lemonade in jam jar glasses,” Jack said softly. “Always thought that’s what made her lemonade taste so sweet.”
Ennis pressed his head against Jack’s, figuring Jack’s Mama’s lemonade couldn’t possibly be as sweet as this feeling of being wrapped tight by the one who mattered the most, who deserved the most, yet still saw fit to value him who had always felt himself to be the least, the lowest, the one everyone left behind. He breathed in the hush that settled thick as fog around them, and tried to believe he was a good man, deserving of this moment, and the man who held him.
They swayed softly for a few beats before Jack slowly let go of Ennis, taking him by the hand and leading him back towards the living room.
“Gotta finish the tour, Ennis. You haven't showed me your bedroom,” Jack said, his voice rough with need.
“Well, now, can’t have that,” he answered, eager yet still strangely shy. Why did this feel like it was their first time together?
Jack looked back at him, eyes glinting wickedly. He let go of Ennis’ hand and walked over to the telephone stand, picking up the green crayon and a scrap piece of paper. He wrote something quickly on the paper, folded it in half, then handed it to Ennis.
Ennis gave Jack a curious look as he opened up the paper. On it Jack had written, “Now will you take me to bed?”
All the wind left his lungs before he could remember Rule Number Four: breathe. When he stopped seeing double, he walked over to the telephone table, picked up the green crayon, and wrote in big block letters, “YES.”
He didn’t even bother folding the paper back up. Just marched up to Jack, showed him what he’d written, and inhaled him, mouth fastening hungrily on Jack’s. Jack let out a grunt of approval, equally ravenous, shoulders bumping down the small hallway as Ennis push-walked him to the bedroom.
They landed on the bed with a whoosh, the new bed frame creaking in protest at the unaccustomed weight of two hungry men intent on consuming each other. Ennis broke Rule Number Three with relish as he ripped off Jack’s shirt, buttons raining on the floor like rice thrown at departing newlyweds. Now that Jack had no shirt on, Ennis felt decidedly overdressed so he ripped off his own shirt, seeing as Jack’s hands were busy undoing his pants.
The minute his cock sprang free, he was on his back, Jack’s mouth swallowing him greedily. He gritted his teeth, the electric heat of being in Jack’s mouth almost sending him over the edge.
“Jack, no, oh God,” he pleaded, fighting for control.
“I swear, Ennis, if you tell me we gotta slow down, I’m gonna bite your dick off,” Jack growled fiercely, scraping sharp teeth along the underside of his cock.
“Go ahead, dumbass,” he gasped, “then you can figure out how I’m supposed to fuck you with it.”
Jack swirled his tongue around the slit before sucking on the tip, glossy with slick and spit.
“Gotta point there, although I could just fuck you instead.”
His eyes closed, the rhythmic suction of Jack’s mouth reminding him of how it felt to be inside Jack. He wanted that so badly. So badly.
“No way, Jack, I’m gonna bury myself so deep in you, you’ll be thanking your lucky stars I ain’t dickless.”
“Well then, put your dick where my ass is, boy, talk is cheap.” Jack muttered, jumping up off the bed and unbuckling his own belt.
Ennis didn’t know if his fumbling attempts to get Jack pants off helped or hindered, but he sure liked the view when Jack’s cock sprang free, making his mouth water. He barely had a taste of Jack’s pre-come before he felt a sharp swat to the back of his head.
“No time for that! Slick me up, cowboy!”
“Shit, Jack, why’s it always gotta be so fast with you?” he mumbled, reaching under the bed for the lube. He was surprised to feel a gentle hand ruffle his hair before his chin was guided upwards. He kneeled on the bed, looking into Jack’s eyes, who was standing beside the bed.
“I’m sorry, Ennis, I can’t help it,” Jack panted. “I just need you inside me so bad if I wait another minute I’m gonna explode.”
There was no escape from the jolt of lust that overtook him as he reached out and slowly trailed his hand down Jack’s torso and watched Jack’s stomach quiver with want. He opened up the lube and coated his fingers generously, guiding one of Jack’s legs up so Jack’s foot was braced on the bed.
“Okay, baby, okay,” he whispered soothingly as he inserted a finger slowly inside Jack, letting Jack soften around him before putting in another finger. “But we ain’t gonna rush this part because you got me so riled up I got no choice but to go at you hard and fast and I don’t want you gettin’ hurt.”
Jack threw his head back, eyes closed, one hand bracing himself for support on Ennis’ shoulder, the other hand thrown across his eyes. Ennis watched Jack sway with the rhythm of his fingers, picking up the tempo set by Ennis. He saw Jack's cock stiffen and throb, bending almost straight up, beads of come leaking from the tip each time his fingers grazed Jack's prostate. Jack shuddered when he finally put in three fingers, hissing sharply, teeth bared, and he knew it was time to take his rightful place inside his man.
So he fell back on the bed so that Jack could straddle him, positioning his cock against Jack’s hole. All Jack had to do was let gravity make them one.
“Are you sure you want it this way? I thought…” Jack asked, clearly confused.
“Shut up and climb up your beanpole, Jack. Ride me hard and fast and make it count,” Ennis said through locked jaws, his hands on Jack’s hips propelling Jack downwards with such force it’s a wonder the bed, or Jack, didn’t split in two.
What followed was a blur of sound and motion, groans and gasps, the slick sound of cock pistoning ass, impossibly hard slamming into incredibly tight, wetter, faster, bodies straining for that one perfect moment, that blinding flash of completeness that fused their broken pieces together and made them whole.
“Yes, Ennis, oh God, almost…almost…”
“Come on Jack, so good, let’s go, let’s go…”
“There!” they shouted, erupting, bathing each other with the most elemental parts of themselves, their essence, their life.
Ennis welcomed the weight of Jack collapsing boneless on top of him, fighting for breath and fighting back tears at the same time.
“Holy shit.”
“That was…”
Ennis began to chuckle because, for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what he was going to say. He felt Jack’s answering laugh before he heard it.
“Damn, Ennis, I think you just fucked me stupid,” hooted Jack, eyes streaming.
“Hush your mouth, boy,” Ennis gasped, “you was already stupid.”
This started another round of laughter, both of them rolling on the bed with wild abandon. When their laughter faded, leaving only contented smiles and eyes full of each other, Ennis rolled over on one elbow, facing Jack.
“Ain’t no one can make me let go like this, Jack,” Ennis whispered, reaching across and tracing Jack’s mouth with a finger.
Jack nodded lazily and gently bit the tip of his finger.
“You’re the best, Jack. The best friend I could ever have.”
Jack’s reaction was instant, eyes widening, the colour changing from dry denim to wet. Jack rolled over on one elbow as well, and kissed him softly.
“Glad you feel that way, Ennis, ‘cause you’re the best part of me.”
At this, Ennis admitted to himself that he really was batshit crazy. Because what kind of dumbass comes up with a stay breathing rule around a man who habitually takes his breath away?
Ennis lay back on his new double bed, relieved that it was comfortable. He’d been sorely tempted to try it out ever since it was delivered, especially on those restless nights on the lumpy sofa. But he’d decided he wasn’t going to sleep in it until he had Jack in his arms.
Now, with the welcome weight of Jack’s head on his shoulder, he knew he’d made the right choice. Him and Jack, well, they come a long way since their first time on Brokeback Mountain. Through the years they'd gained a few chips around the edges, allowed themselves to become mismatched. But tonight proved they could still find comfort in something new. Seems it wasn't too late to begin again. Finally.
TBC