Happy fandom swap, rainyd!
Happy fandom swap, rainyd!
Title: 1963 Onwards
Author: monifieth
Fandom: Brokeback Mountain
Summary: " During the day Ennis looked across a great gulf and sometimes saw Jack, a small dot moving across a high meadow as an insect moves across a tablecloth; Jack, in his dark camp, saw Ennis as night fire, a red spark on the huge black mass of mountain."
Pairings (if any): Jack/Ennis
Rating: R
Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me.
A/N: Thank you to everyone who has helped me along the way with this!
_
1.
1963, north of Signal; Jack Twist shook hands with Ennis del Mar for the first time.
2.
Jack had inwardly grinned when Ennis offered to switch with him. During the day Ennis looked across a great gulf and sometimes saw Jack, a small dot moving across a high meadow as an insect moves across a tablecloth; Jack, in his dark camp, saw Ennis as night fire, a red spark on the huge black mass of mountain. They'd both noticed each other working, but had had no more chance to speak since they'd started work in Forest Service, on Brokeback Mountain. Jack had been intrigued then, too, having never met the other, taller, man before. If he had, he felt sure he'd have remembered.
3.
The smell of coffee pervades the muggy air as they sit near the fire, discussing saddles and sheep and similarly suitable topics. It's an easy companionship, neither expecting anything, just pleased for the company of another when they'd anticipated loneliness. The logs crackle merrily under the coppered flames as the fire burns steadily, a pleasant background to their relaxation. They sit like they always do, legs stretched out, side by side, leaning against the big tree, fire warming the soles of their shoes. It's an easy peace they reach, contented.
4.
The moon, great silvery orb that it was that night, shone down upon them as they fucked. It was rough, harsh, painful - like their first time - but that didn't mean it felt any less important to either of them. It was appropriately dark, light catching only the tops and backs of trees, rocks, rippling and shimmering over the ever moving water. It made the sheen of sweat over their bodies seem to glow as they moved, muscles stretched taut under deeply tanned skin tensing with exertion, the tiniest movements apparent as hungry eyes swallowed the other man whole.
The hills, looming shards against the horizon, cast black shadows over everything visible. It made the gullies deeper, patches of calm hiding the dangerous creatures within. Mountains stabbed the sky, marring the line of the land with ugly points. It was cold, natural, unconquered by progress, and it was oddly beautiful. They lay, spent, watching the faintly visible clouds move over them as the drifted to sleep, ready for tomorrow.
5.
Jack doesn't know when he'd first begun to see Ennis as anything more than a friend, a work-mate, a partner, but he has seen otherwise now and he doesn't think he can ignore it. Maybe if he'd have said no that first time, when Ennis first offered to go out and watch for coyotes with him, things would have been different. Now, though, he finds himself dreaming of scruffy, long-legged men with high noses, of sandy haired figures resting with him after a hard day's riding.
Ennis had said it himself, he enjoyed being out on the mountain side under the blanket of stars with Jack. When he rode out from their tent each day he half wanted to turn and never leave the sanctuary they'd unwittingly created. There came a point when neither wanted the separation forced upon them.
6.
Their first time had been easy. When Jack had moved Ennis' hand to his cock as he jerked off, there'd been no underlying intent, no fear, just a deep-seated knowledge that he'd understand. And he had, pushing down his trousers hastily, quickly thrusting into deep heat and a sense of fulfilment. The unspoken agreement had been made in those few moments, before Jack had grunted "gun's going off" and came, before Ennis pulled out and they'd separated - in those few moments the deal was signed. Both knew this wouldn't be their last time.
Jack remembered hurting the next day, a jarring pain in his arse. He remembered laughing at himself as he rode out in the morning, expecting Ennis to join in with the joke. There was no echo, no smile. Ennis pointedly ignored any references to what went on. Realisation dawned: this would be the way it would have to be, they'd never allude to it, or mention it, though neither would deny it happened.
It'd happen many more times, he knew. Preventing it would be impossible.They couldn't if they tried; and nobody wanted it to stop.
7.
They'd kissed, once. Only once, in those summer days, but it was enough to keep fresh in their memories.
It had been heated, he remembered, a long drawn out mess of tangled tongues. Stubbled chins rubbed and burned marks into skin, teeth nipped and suckled and ruddy lips. Nerve endings burned right out as the kiss continued, each taking turns to plunder the other's mouth violently. It was a battle of wills, a fight in which both wanted to be the victor, yet neither would concede defeat.
It wasn't tender, or loving (love wasn't something involved between them at all), but it was enough, he knew. Raw, passion personified; that was the one kiss he knew he's never forget.
8.
The second time they fucked had been different. Like there was more at stake. Emotions seemed to come into play, whereas that first, spontaneous, time, it had only been about revelling in sensation, in physical feeling.
It had almost been hesitant, as Ennis prepared him once more. He'd used his fingers with more care, stretching and pulling at the strong rings of muscle, easing Jack open and wider until he writhed beneath him. The urgency was still there, but now seemed dormant, at the back of their minds. This time, it was about discovery, about seeing the other man naked for the first time, and truly seeing him. There was no need to rush, no frantic push for climax, but when that came too, it was explosive.
9.
The smell of stale coffee never truly left them. It was imbued in their clothes, in their hair; no amount of washing in the lake could shift it, it seemed. In time, it came to remind them of the nights they spent at the fire, talking through to the early hours and sharing dreams. Both talked of their families, both felt they owned the world. Hours were spent, days merged into nights as they put wrongs to rights with far fetched solutions. Ennis spoke of his engagement, to Alma, and his worries. Jack bolstered their spirits by telling his tales, like of the time he killed an eagle (he still wore the feather in his hat, as proof of his bravery and skill) or of the lightening storm that killed a flock of sheep (and left that horrid scent on the air).
10.
Years later, they still fucked every night, in Ennis' dreams, and it was as good as ever, though this time more painful for Ennis than Jack.
Title: 1963 Onwards
Author: monifieth
Fandom: Brokeback Mountain
Summary: " During the day Ennis looked across a great gulf and sometimes saw Jack, a small dot moving across a high meadow as an insect moves across a tablecloth; Jack, in his dark camp, saw Ennis as night fire, a red spark on the huge black mass of mountain."
Pairings (if any): Jack/Ennis
Rating: R
Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me.
A/N: Thank you to everyone who has helped me along the way with this!
_
1.
1963, north of Signal; Jack Twist shook hands with Ennis del Mar for the first time.
2.
Jack had inwardly grinned when Ennis offered to switch with him. During the day Ennis looked across a great gulf and sometimes saw Jack, a small dot moving across a high meadow as an insect moves across a tablecloth; Jack, in his dark camp, saw Ennis as night fire, a red spark on the huge black mass of mountain. They'd both noticed each other working, but had had no more chance to speak since they'd started work in Forest Service, on Brokeback Mountain. Jack had been intrigued then, too, having never met the other, taller, man before. If he had, he felt sure he'd have remembered.
3.
The smell of coffee pervades the muggy air as they sit near the fire, discussing saddles and sheep and similarly suitable topics. It's an easy companionship, neither expecting anything, just pleased for the company of another when they'd anticipated loneliness. The logs crackle merrily under the coppered flames as the fire burns steadily, a pleasant background to their relaxation. They sit like they always do, legs stretched out, side by side, leaning against the big tree, fire warming the soles of their shoes. It's an easy peace they reach, contented.
4.
The moon, great silvery orb that it was that night, shone down upon them as they fucked. It was rough, harsh, painful - like their first time - but that didn't mean it felt any less important to either of them. It was appropriately dark, light catching only the tops and backs of trees, rocks, rippling and shimmering over the ever moving water. It made the sheen of sweat over their bodies seem to glow as they moved, muscles stretched taut under deeply tanned skin tensing with exertion, the tiniest movements apparent as hungry eyes swallowed the other man whole.
The hills, looming shards against the horizon, cast black shadows over everything visible. It made the gullies deeper, patches of calm hiding the dangerous creatures within. Mountains stabbed the sky, marring the line of the land with ugly points. It was cold, natural, unconquered by progress, and it was oddly beautiful. They lay, spent, watching the faintly visible clouds move over them as the drifted to sleep, ready for tomorrow.
5.
Jack doesn't know when he'd first begun to see Ennis as anything more than a friend, a work-mate, a partner, but he has seen otherwise now and he doesn't think he can ignore it. Maybe if he'd have said no that first time, when Ennis first offered to go out and watch for coyotes with him, things would have been different. Now, though, he finds himself dreaming of scruffy, long-legged men with high noses, of sandy haired figures resting with him after a hard day's riding.
Ennis had said it himself, he enjoyed being out on the mountain side under the blanket of stars with Jack. When he rode out from their tent each day he half wanted to turn and never leave the sanctuary they'd unwittingly created. There came a point when neither wanted the separation forced upon them.
6.
Their first time had been easy. When Jack had moved Ennis' hand to his cock as he jerked off, there'd been no underlying intent, no fear, just a deep-seated knowledge that he'd understand. And he had, pushing down his trousers hastily, quickly thrusting into deep heat and a sense of fulfilment. The unspoken agreement had been made in those few moments, before Jack had grunted "gun's going off" and came, before Ennis pulled out and they'd separated - in those few moments the deal was signed. Both knew this wouldn't be their last time.
Jack remembered hurting the next day, a jarring pain in his arse. He remembered laughing at himself as he rode out in the morning, expecting Ennis to join in with the joke. There was no echo, no smile. Ennis pointedly ignored any references to what went on. Realisation dawned: this would be the way it would have to be, they'd never allude to it, or mention it, though neither would deny it happened.
It'd happen many more times, he knew. Preventing it would be impossible.They couldn't if they tried; and nobody wanted it to stop.
7.
They'd kissed, once. Only once, in those summer days, but it was enough to keep fresh in their memories.
It had been heated, he remembered, a long drawn out mess of tangled tongues. Stubbled chins rubbed and burned marks into skin, teeth nipped and suckled and ruddy lips. Nerve endings burned right out as the kiss continued, each taking turns to plunder the other's mouth violently. It was a battle of wills, a fight in which both wanted to be the victor, yet neither would concede defeat.
It wasn't tender, or loving (love wasn't something involved between them at all), but it was enough, he knew. Raw, passion personified; that was the one kiss he knew he's never forget.
8.
The second time they fucked had been different. Like there was more at stake. Emotions seemed to come into play, whereas that first, spontaneous, time, it had only been about revelling in sensation, in physical feeling.
It had almost been hesitant, as Ennis prepared him once more. He'd used his fingers with more care, stretching and pulling at the strong rings of muscle, easing Jack open and wider until he writhed beneath him. The urgency was still there, but now seemed dormant, at the back of their minds. This time, it was about discovery, about seeing the other man naked for the first time, and truly seeing him. There was no need to rush, no frantic push for climax, but when that came too, it was explosive.
9.
The smell of stale coffee never truly left them. It was imbued in their clothes, in their hair; no amount of washing in the lake could shift it, it seemed. In time, it came to remind them of the nights they spent at the fire, talking through to the early hours and sharing dreams. Both talked of their families, both felt they owned the world. Hours were spent, days merged into nights as they put wrongs to rights with far fetched solutions. Ennis spoke of his engagement, to Alma, and his worries. Jack bolstered their spirits by telling his tales, like of the time he killed an eagle (he still wore the feather in his hat, as proof of his bravery and skill) or of the lightening storm that killed a flock of sheep (and left that horrid scent on the air).
10.
Years later, they still fucked every night, in Ennis' dreams, and it was as good as ever, though this time more painful for Ennis than Jack.