Clipped
Title: Clipped
Author: nopeferatu(nickie)
Rating: R
A/N: Howdy! I figured since I was asking about some fics, I'd do my part and share one of my own. The law of equivalent exchange and all that.
This one is a bit old, so apologies if it isn't up to snuff. I'm just happy to be one more in a nearly 20-year legacy of fantastic writers who've shared their works here in this group.
Description:
Tomorrow may tell another story, but for tonight, this man-with his baby blue eyes, sleepy, self-conscious grumbles, and beautiful clipped dick-was his, all his, and that was enough. It had to be enough.
------
Ennis often found himself, rather embarrassingly, returning to the thought of Jack's cock. Long shaft that kicked just slightly to the left with a velvety tip that Ennis loved to run his thumb across to elicit those sweet sounds that Jack sang like music into his ears. Unlike Ennis, Jack was cut. He didn't like to be reminded of the fact, was always sore about missing some of the extra material around the top that Ennis had, and he flustered too easily whenever Ennis lingered too much on the notion.
To Jack, it was the seal on top of a long list of issues that codified into law that, in all ways, Jack was different than all them other boys out there in the world; the physical manifestation of all that was wrong with him and all that could never be changed. Just one more lot he was stuck with in this life that couldn't be fixed, that had to be withstood. Let be, let be.
Privately, though, Ennis thought that it made him rather beautiful. He flushed deeply at the thought of calling another man's pecker purdy-looking, but by God, was it true. What Jack saw as a deformity, Ennis saw as a fitting reflection of the man who had always marched to the beat of his own drum, who tried to force the world to make room for himself, warts and all, whether it liked who he was or not. The man who, as much as he could manage, accepted his differences in stride, who still had the nerve to go on demanding his fair share in life in spite of it all.
If he were to voice those thoughts, though, Jack would usually just puff up and try to bat his gaze away, self conscious and irritated, working instead to redirect Ennis' attention on him to somewhere else. That didn't mean Ennis wouldn't linger on it, however. It just meant he needed to be more careful about when he chose to take a long, appreciative gander down at Jack's south pole.
"What're ya lookin' at?" The sleep-clogged voice next to him broke the peaceful silence that had settled over them the past hour.
Uh oh.
Ennis looked up through blonde lashes and, though it was a bit dark in the tent after the fire outside had begun to die down, he didn't need a lantern to tell that he was being tracked by a tired, leery, sky-blue gaze.
He had been lifting up the heavy wool blanket they'd taken a liking to over the course of their past few fishing trips in order to try and get a good look at the subject of his post-coital, pillow-talking thoughts; too busy appreciating the view to notice the way that Jack had shivered, or when his baby blues had flicked open to see what the cause of his chill was.
He had been caught red handed. Despite this, he couldn't bring himself to drop the blanket nor bring his gaze up just yet.
"Got drafty all'fa sudden," Jack started when Ennis didn't reply, "woke up ta find ya bein' a peepin' Tom, takin' yer fill like a starvin' man at an all-ya-can-eat buffet." He tried to sound hard, gruff and annoyed, but Jack had never perfected the act in the way that Ennis had, and Ennis perfectly heard the soft hint of amusement that colored his lover's otherwise prickly words.
Finally, the corner of Ennis' mouth ticked up. "Can't get nothin' past ya, huh bud?"
"Damn straight," Jack grumbled, lowering himself against Ennis' chest and taking care to press his cock against his hip, effectively obscuring it from view anymore. With his body warmed and dick hidden, he finally snuggled his face within the crook of Ennis' neck, nuzzling into him for just a moment before settling and going lax against his side.
Ennis finally dropped the hand that had been peeling back the wool blanket and snaked it around Jack's waist, where it belonged. He pressed his nose into the top of Jack's head and breathed him in, holding him tighter against himself with a content sigh before closing his eyes and following Jack into a peaceful, sated sleep.
Tomorrow may tell another story, but for tonight, this man-with his baby blue eyes, sleepy, self-conscious grumbles, and beautiful clipped dick-was his, all his, and that was enough. It had to be enough.