Brokeback Mountain Drabble "Second Time" Jack/Ennis PG
I know I have an immense cheek even trying this, as a Brit, but well, I was so moved by the film I wanted to expand the second night in the tent. I make no attempt to follow Proulx's style, but that's forgivable, I'm sure, we don't (thank heavens) make any attempt to follow JKR's after all!!!!
Second Time
Jack/Ennis (PG) 528 Words
I don't own the characters, not at all. Shame that.
Beta-ed and US picked by eumenides1 - thank you sweetie
He'd stripped off and lay there feeling stupid and trying to not think about how he felt stupid. Trying to act casual, like he always slept shirtless (which Ennis knew right well he didn't). His heart was yammering in his chest so loud that he thought Ennis must hear it, even over the constant river. He couldn't do nothing. Either Ennis'd come, or he wouldn't, and like as not he wouldn't, after the awkward morning when he hadn't even stayed long enough even for coffee.
Jack'd been surprised when Ennis'd even turned up for supper. Somehow he'd this notion that he'd stay up on the ridge, shoot another deer, eat it raw. Anything but ride bare-faced into camp like there weren't nothing going on. He said nothing though, he'd retreated into the Ennis he'd been when they'd met; sour-faced, hunched. Like some old buzzard who'd flap off soon as look at you. Just said "Thanks" and "Yep," when asked, nothing offered, nothing given. Hadn't even said goodnight when Jack, sick of listening to nothing but owls and water, sick of the fire, sick of Ennis, had left him staring into nothing.
So he stared at the canvas. It whuffed in the ever present wind like some giant beast breathing, so he counted the breaths, thinking that he'd either forget about the fact that Ennis was still there, down by the fire or fall asleep and feel more stupid in the morning.
The pebbles on the dry creek bed scratched their warning but he didn't look. Didn't even hope. Going for his horse. So when the tent flap (left open, couldn't be less subtle) darkened and Ennis filled the skyline, it seemed to Jack that he'd just come to say something. Something like "Don't expect me," or "I'm leaving," and it wouldn't be a surprise at that.
But instead he was kneeling and so clumsy, big hands, rough, touching him like he was an electric fence, like he'd get a shock any moment. Holding his face and looking - looking like he'd never seen him before, 'stead of every day, day in, day out. Neither of them knew what to do with a man, and it took a while of working. Jack heard the shame in Ennis' voice, 'cause he was a man who should know what he was doing, capable, strong, sure. Ride a horse, kill a deer - tie a lamb. "Sorry, sorry," over and over - but it weren't no apology, it meant please - and now, and help me.
And the kissing came hard, a jumble of teeth and tongues that seemed like they'd never mesh, tangled tight like twin lambs birthing and then it all came clear, and they came together and they fit. Jack slid out of the blanket and rolled over onto Ennis, rubbing them together, causing Ennis to gasp like he did when cold water hit him. But what came after came easier, 'cause they'd been there before, but this time they took it slow, made it last and better than before, not great - knots to untangle, trails to learn. But it would only get better. They had the summer.
Second Time
Jack/Ennis (PG) 528 Words
I don't own the characters, not at all. Shame that.
Beta-ed and US picked by eumenides1 - thank you sweetie
He'd stripped off and lay there feeling stupid and trying to not think about how he felt stupid. Trying to act casual, like he always slept shirtless (which Ennis knew right well he didn't). His heart was yammering in his chest so loud that he thought Ennis must hear it, even over the constant river. He couldn't do nothing. Either Ennis'd come, or he wouldn't, and like as not he wouldn't, after the awkward morning when he hadn't even stayed long enough even for coffee.
Jack'd been surprised when Ennis'd even turned up for supper. Somehow he'd this notion that he'd stay up on the ridge, shoot another deer, eat it raw. Anything but ride bare-faced into camp like there weren't nothing going on. He said nothing though, he'd retreated into the Ennis he'd been when they'd met; sour-faced, hunched. Like some old buzzard who'd flap off soon as look at you. Just said "Thanks" and "Yep," when asked, nothing offered, nothing given. Hadn't even said goodnight when Jack, sick of listening to nothing but owls and water, sick of the fire, sick of Ennis, had left him staring into nothing.
So he stared at the canvas. It whuffed in the ever present wind like some giant beast breathing, so he counted the breaths, thinking that he'd either forget about the fact that Ennis was still there, down by the fire or fall asleep and feel more stupid in the morning.
The pebbles on the dry creek bed scratched their warning but he didn't look. Didn't even hope. Going for his horse. So when the tent flap (left open, couldn't be less subtle) darkened and Ennis filled the skyline, it seemed to Jack that he'd just come to say something. Something like "Don't expect me," or "I'm leaving," and it wouldn't be a surprise at that.
But instead he was kneeling and so clumsy, big hands, rough, touching him like he was an electric fence, like he'd get a shock any moment. Holding his face and looking - looking like he'd never seen him before, 'stead of every day, day in, day out. Neither of them knew what to do with a man, and it took a while of working. Jack heard the shame in Ennis' voice, 'cause he was a man who should know what he was doing, capable, strong, sure. Ride a horse, kill a deer - tie a lamb. "Sorry, sorry," over and over - but it weren't no apology, it meant please - and now, and help me.
And the kissing came hard, a jumble of teeth and tongues that seemed like they'd never mesh, tangled tight like twin lambs birthing and then it all came clear, and they came together and they fit. Jack slid out of the blanket and rolled over onto Ennis, rubbing them together, causing Ennis to gasp like he did when cold water hit him. But what came after came easier, 'cause they'd been there before, but this time they took it slow, made it last and better than before, not great - knots to untangle, trails to learn. But it would only get better. They had the summer.