(no subject)
CABIN FEVER II
Breakfast
Title: Cabin Fever II - Breakfast
Rating: NC-17.
Pairing: Jack/Ennis
Teaser: Part II of our boys in Don Wroe's cabin. But could there be a little trouble brewing in paradise..?
Disclaimer: Jack and Ennis are not mine. Neither are any of the other original characters from the wonderful "Brokeback Mountain." They belong to Annie Proulx, and I am only borrowing them for a little while...
Author's Note: RL is being a cast iron bitch from hell, so I decided it was high time for some smut. :-)
He was sitting at the kitchen table of the old apartment over the laundry in Riverton, the girls running through the rooms, shrieking and laughing as they played. Alma was at the stove, her back to him, and there was the smell of breakfast frying.
She turned to him then, set a hugely laden plate of bacon and sausage in front of him. He realized suddenly that the entire table was full of plates like this…swaying towers of eggs, bacon, sausage, toast. Enough to feed an army, and she was still cooking. From the looks of her sweaty forehead and frizzed out hair, she’d been doing it for quite a while.
“Alma, what in the name o’…”
“You’re not goin’ fishin’ until you finish your breakfast, Ennis,” Alma said, her voice sliding off kilter, her stare just this side of crazy. She brandished the metal spatula for emphasis. “And you ain’t givin’ that Jack Twist none, neither. He’s had more ‘n enough o’ what’s mine.”
Ennis jumped up and ran to the window. Jack was standing out there beside the same red and white truck he’d arrived in after that four year absence, dressed in the same clothes. Only difference was, there was two feet of snow on the ground now, and Jack looked like he’d been there since before winter set in. Ennis ran to the front door, but it was locked tight.
“I said no, Ennis.”
“Alma, it’s freezin’ out there!” he protested.
She turned back from the stove again, murder in her eyes. “Ain’t my fault he don’t drink coffee. Now sit down an’ finish your breakfast!”
Ennis jolted awake, sweating and breathing hard, staring up at an old water stain on a ceiling he didn’t recognize. It took him a couple of bad moments before his memory caught up, and then he closed his eyes again with utter relief, sagging back on to the pillow. He was in the master bedroom of Don Wroe’s cabin, and crazy Alma and her spatula had only been a dream.
He sat up, drawing a hand down his face, her sweaty, manic face still a little too vivid in his mind. Christ.
Jack was nowhere to be seen, but his scent lingered in the sheets, teasing Ennis’s nose. Then his stomach began growling as another smell caught his attention…bacon frying. Breakfast.
Ennis swung his legs out of bed, went across the hall to take a piss and splash water on his face. Returning to the bedroom, he bent to gather the jeans and boots he’d discarded earlier. As he pulled them on, thinking about how they’d wound up on the floor in a heap in the first place made his mind drift back to what they’d done earlier that morning, the remembered feel of Jack’s body in his arms spreading a warmth through him that went far deeper than just the moments of fierce passion they’d shared. This was something else, something more - something he only felt when he was with Jack. Contentment.
All this, an’ a bed, in the bargain. Ennis couldn’t help a little smile as he recalled Jack’s words. A man of few positive expectations, he didn’t know how his heart could ever feel more full than this.
He shrugged back into his shirt, straightening the collar with one hand as he headed for the kitchen. If he was lucky, Jack hadn’t started making coffee yet.
He was halfway down the hall when he heard something he didn’t expect. Jack was talking - but not to him. There was no answering voice, and it took Ennis a moment to realize that Jack must be on the phone. His steps slowed as he wondered if he should go back to the bedroom, give him some privacy. This wasn’t something they’d dealt with much, out there in their usual campsites in the mountains.
“Yeah, I know, but it’s only one more weekend, if you look at it like that,” Jack was saying. “You c’n wait that long, cain’t you?” A pause. “Don’t you worry none, I’ll be back Sunday.”
Ennis frowned, coming to a halt now. Who in hell was Jack talking to? He struggled with a burst of jealous irritation - this was their time, theirs alone. Their brief time to make everything else in their distant and separated lives go away, their time to exist only for each other. Didn’t Jack know that?
And what did that mean, you c’n wait that long? Wait that long for what?
Jack laughed. “Yeah, you bet. As many times as we c’n both stand it.” Another pause. Then: “Listen, I better go, this is long distance an’ it ain’t my phone. Yeah, me too. See you Sunday, bud.”
Something shifted inside Ennis, deep down, something that made his stomach queasy. He barely heard Jack hang up the phone, just standing there, trying to make sense out of what he had just heard. See you Sunday, bud.
Ennis felt the slow, corrosive burn of anger start in his chest, tried to get a hold of it. He wasn’t going to go off like a bull with his territory being violated, he told himself, not until he’d given Jack a chance to explain. Let him reassure him that it wasn’t what it sounded like.
He didn’t want to think about what it sounded like. Even if what he heard was lies, it was better than thinking about that.
In the kitchen, Jack had breakfast in full swing. He was standing at the stove, his back to Ennis, humming under his breath as he fried rashers of bacon in the pan. To his right on the counter were warming plates holding growing stacks of pancakes and sausage. Like Ennis, he had put on jeans and an unbuttoned shirt, but he hadn’t put his boots on yet. Ennis paused in the doorway, studying his back, the wide shoulders, the play of muscle under the blue cotton as he reached to flip another couple of rashers on to a plate. His eyes traveled slowly down to Jack’s ass, straining against the denim of his jeans as he leaned over. Not too many sights in this world were finer than Jack Twist’s ass, and he for one could spend a long time looking at it.
And it belonged to him.
“Mornin’, Ennis.” Jack glanced over his shoulder, enough so Ennis could catch a glimpse of that snow-melting smile. “Coffee’s on. You better be hungry, got kinda carried away in here, real honest to God appliances to cook on an’ all.”
Ennis came right up behind Jack, leaning close to him and catching a whiff of his slightly musky scent, mingled with soap fresh from the shower. Kept his tone even. “How long you been up?”
“Half hour, give or take.”
“Should a woke me. Could a washed your back.”
Jack laughed. “Well, there’s the thing, bud…I kinda wanted a get breakfast b’fore the middle of the afternoon.”
Ennis nuzzled Jack’s hairline, feeling the familiar little shiver. “Anythin’ interestin’ goin’ on?”
Jack snorted. “Not unless you call pushin’ food around a pan interestin’. An’ if you do, you got a get out more, Ennis.”
Ennis’s arms slipped underneath Jack’s shirt, his mouth opening against the smooth skin of his neck, sucking just a little. Jack sighed, eyes closing, head falling back on to Ennis’s shoulder as his lover’s calloused fingers brushed lightly over his bare chest. “You ain’t done nothin’ else?” Ennis probed.
Jack raised his head again, giving him an exasperated flick of those bottomless blue eyes. “I don’t fuckin’ believe it, you’re still mad at me ‘cause I slept in a couple a hours this mornin’! Christ, Ennis, just one time I want a see you drive fourteen hours straight an’ then go bouncin’ out a bed at the crack of fuckin’ dawn.”
Ennis frowned, where Jack couldn’t see it. He couldn’t figure out if Jack was being deliberately obtuse or not, and he couldn’t stop himself from obsessing about who he had been talking to, what those words had meant. But he also couldn’t make himself ask the question directly, couldn’t cross that line from his side. The frustration ate at him, adding fuel to the dark flame inside him. Why couldn’t Jack just tell him he’d been on the phone, make it all better?
Even if he had to lie.
Yeah, you bet. As many times as we c’n both stand it.
“Ennis,” Jack said. “You’re grindin’ your teeth again.”
Ennis grunted. He made himself focus on the breakfast Jack was still cooking. “Anythin’ I c’n do to help?”
“Nah. Go sit yourself down and wait.”
“You sure?” Ennis touched his lips to the back of Jack’s neck again, slowly moving back up to the hairline. He breathed in deeply, inhaling that musky scent again, that combination of salt and sweet that was uniquely Jack. The fire of possession was burning hard in him now. He wanted to brand Jack with it, mark him all over, leave him with no doubts of who had staked first claim.
“Yep. Cain’t cook with you standin’ there like that, boy. Go sit.”
“You real sure?” Ennis’s hands drifted down Jack’s waist, sliding over his hips and on to his stomach, feeling the sensitive skin there flutter under his fingers.
Mock stern, Jack waved the spatula - an odd echo of Alma in the dream. “Ennis, git over there to that table or I’m going a use this. Pancakes going a burn.”
“Is that so? Maybe you should do somethin’ about all that heat, then,” Ennis told him. “Or I got a better idea, let me do somethin’ about it…”
He slipped one hand down over the front of Jack’s jeans, deliberately stroked the bulge he knew was growing there. With the other hand he reached around and turned off the heat under the pan.
“Ennis…” Jack murmured, eyes closed. “Ain’t you hungry…?”
“You bet, boy.” Ennis’s voice was a deep, husky growl that went straight to Jack’s groin, his hardening cock twitching against Ennis’s fingers through the denim. Ennis turned Jack’s face toward him and kissed him, the darkness inside him thrilling at the low moan in his lover’s throat. All thought of food forgotten, he deepened the kiss, feeling Jack’s mouth open against his, sucking Jack’s tongue into his mouth.
Jack trembled as he felt Ennis’s arms encircle him again. He broke the kiss and stared down, breath hitching, watching those strong, sure fingers unsnap his jeans and slide the zipper down. “Not that I’m complainin’, exactly, but what’s got into you this mornin’?”
Ennis gripped his hips and pulled back, grinding the hard bulge of his own arousal against Jack’s ass. “I’d be thinkin’ about what’s goin’ a get into you, boy. Real soon.”
His hands slipped inside Jack’s jeans, freeing his erection. Jack made a choked sound and his head fell back against Ennis’s shoulder again, surrendering to his mouth. Ennis closed his eyes and ground harder against Jack’s ass, contrasting that display of strength with a soft brushing of his fingertips up and down Jack’s swelling shaft, knowing that the too-light caress would quickly make Jack crazy. He teased around the flared head, rubbing in a gentle circle over the sensitive slit, never giving him quite enough friction. As Ennis had known he would, Jack grunted in frustration and rocked his hips forward, trying to increase the contact. Ennis kept it up for a moment more, then all of a sudden changed tactics and closed his hand tight around that hot, stiffening cock.
“Fuck!” Jack was lost, moaning, thrusting helplessly as his lover worked him just the way he liked it, long firm strokes that went all the way from base to tip in one smooth move. Ennis heard his own breath grow harsher, wondering if Jack could feel the heat of his cock through both pairs of jeans as he began to slide it up and down over the crack of his Jack’s willing ass. Just the thought of how it would feel to plunge home balls deep inside him, fucking that hot velvet channel over and over until Jack cried out for mercy, made his cock throb violently with anticipation.
Jack was right there with him, pushing back against him hungrily, wanting it now. Ennis took him by the shoulders and began to turn him around, and Jack went with it eagerly, reaching for him.
Yeah, me too. See you Sunday, bud.
Ennis growled out loud, trying to force from his mind the sudden vision of Jack in another man’s arms. He grabbed Jack’s arm and kept him turning, pushing him face down over the kitchen table, upper body flat on its surface. Before Jack could recover from the surprise and figure out what was going on, Ennis was yanking his jeans down. “Ennis, what the fuck…?”
He broke off, gasping at the open-palmed smack on his exposed ass. “That’s for gettin’ up without me,” Ennis growled, the words that really wanted to be spoken too ugly for him to give voice to. One hand holding Jack firmly in place, he kneed Jack’s legs apart, pulling his jeans all the way off and tossing them across the room. Still imprisoned in his own jeans, his cock surged as he drank in the sight that hung down between the hard muscle of Jack’s thighs. He smacked that inviting ass again, harder this time, not missing the answering jerk of Jack’s cock. “And that’s just because I fuckin’ feel like it. What d’you feel like, Jack? You want more?”
“Ennis, you gone crazy?” Jack struggled to get back upright but Ennis jammed him down on the table with one hand between his shoulder blades, all his weight behind it.
“Don’t you dare fuckin’ move.”
He leaned down and began to drag his mouth and tongue over the red marks his hand had left. Jack groaned deeply, writhing a little, Ennis’s firm hand on his back keeping him pinned down. Ennis had chosen well - there wasn’t much Jack could do to help himself in this position.
Ennis straightened up, glancing around the room. He spotted the bottle of maple syrup. “So you want breakfast, do you, Jack?” he said softly.
“What?” The confusion was clear in Jack’s voice. He tried once more to get up, failed. Then he felt something warm drip on to his tailbone.
“Got a do it right,” Ennis said. “Just can’t have pancakes without this fine maple syrup you brought.”
Jack squirmed, wriggling as the warm, sticky liquid slowly ran down into his crack. Then he was arching and gasping as Ennis’s tongue followed it, scooping it out just short of his asshole. He moaned in frustration as he felt that hot, wet tongue slide over the inside of his ass cheeks, brushing oh, so close but never quite giving it to him where he wanted it most.
“That’s good syrup, Jack,” Ennis murmured. “You want a do that again?”
Jack made a frantic, helpless sound in his throat as the syrup repeated its torturous path. By the time Ennis had done this three times, each time licking up the liquid millimeters short of the target and then circling maddeningly around it, his balls throbbed and his pucker was twitching and pulsing with need.
“You want pancakes with that, Jack?” Ennis dripped more syrup on to Jack’s ass, watching it dribble slowly, so very slowly down, Jack’s hips moving in a slow, desperate, involuntary circle. This time he let it continue, tearing off a piece of pancake from the plate by the stove and dipping it in the sweet sticky stuff smeared all over Jack’s skin. He tasted the concoction and nodded appreciatively. “You know what, Jack, that’s real good,” he said.
Jack grunted, nearly insane from the slow progress of the syrup down his ass. His breath hissed out as the tickling dribble finally reached his anus, so sensitized now that even that slight contact made his body jerk, eyes squeezing shut. Then he was crying out as Ennis’s tongue plunged in after it. “Aaah, God, fuck,” he gasped, bucking, hands smacking down on the surface of the table.
Ennis fucked him slowly with his tongue, sliding in and out and around until Jack was moaning continuously, trying to break the iron grip on his thighs so he could jam his ass back into Ennis’s face. His hands clenched into fists, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his skin. Ennis reached between his legs and caressed his balls, feeling Jack’s answering shudder. Then he bent right down and pulled his lover’s beautiful cock back through his legs, sucking the tip into his mouth.
Jack let out a strangled cry. Ennis swallowed as much of Jack’s thick shaft as he could reach, working his tongue. He watched Jack shift his balance frantically, trying to find a way that he could thrust into Ennis’s mouth while being sucked in this position. He couldn’t, and the frustration was like white heat coursing through his body, unending torture with no relief in sight.
“Please, Ennis, fuck, please,” Jack managed to gasp, upper body arching up off the table in an involuntary spasm, every nerve and muscle shuddering with need. Ennis released his cock at last and straightened up, bending over him, kissing and licking the sweat from his trembling back as he unfastened his own jeans and pulled them down. Jack thought he would come from the feel of his lover’s rigid erection rubbing the length of his crack, skin to skin. “God, fuck me, Ennis, do me now, please…”
“Well,” Ennis murmured, “since you asked so nice, an’ all…”
He pulled Jack roughly up off the table and turned him around, hands either side of his face, kissing him hard. Jack’s body tried to melt into his, but Ennis slid his hands down to his shoulders and held him in place, mouth ravaging the skin of his neck and shoulders, dragging down over his hard muscled chest, licking and biting his nipples. Jack clutched at him blindly, breathing like he’d run a four minute mile, aroused to the point of madness. Then Ennis pushed him backwards on to the table, slipping arms under his thighs to lift him until he was lying flat on his back.
Jack moaned as Ennis pushed his legs apart. Ennis gazed down at him for a moment, drinking in the intoxicating sight, that beautiful body all spread out like this just for him, balls swollen and drawn up tight against his body, impressive cock hard as an iron bar and dripping precome. “You’re mine, Jack” he whispered, unable to help himself. “Ain’t gonna let you forget that, not ever.”
The fierce adoration that lit up Jack’s eyes was too raw, too real for him to look at. He let his eyes fall on Jack’s cock instead, giving him a moment to follow his gaze and realize what he was about to do. Then Jack was arching, gasping and trembling, as Ennis lowered his mouth and sucked him right inside. Jack's hips came up off the table, moaning as he felt himself slip right to the back of his lover’s throat. Ennis made an answering moan, his own neglected cock jerking violently in response, nearly exploding right there from the taste and feel and smell of Jack. He was forced to quickly wrap his fingers around the base, squeezing hard, groaning deeply as he fought to stop his own climax. The vibration in his throat sent helpless shudders rippling through Jack’s body.
Slowly, Ennis regained control. Jack’s head was back, his eyes half-closed in near delirium, fucking his lover’s mouth with slow, rhythmic thrusts. He sucked in his breath as Ennis grabbed the cooking oil and dribbled it over his balls, massaging it into his hot skin, the sucking and licking on his cock never pausing. Then he gave a choked gasp as Ennis’s slick fingers slid into him, easing him open, getting him ready. His hips were rocking hard now, his movements growing frantic, trying to force Ennis’s fingers in deeper, harder. He almost screamed as they zeroed in on that little ribbed gland and caressed it, sending white hot thrills up his spine. “Oh, fuck, please,” he begged. “I cain’t stand it, please…”
Ennis straightened up, reluctantly letting that beautiful cock slide out of his mouth. He stroked his hand lovingly over Jack’s thighs and stomach, feeling the harsh tremors there, seeing him shudder and sweat. He knew he couldn’t hold back much longer. He reached for the oil and slicked himself down, trembling a little from the touch of his own fingers. He was very close himself.
He growled as Jack reached down and tried to stroke his own cock, smacking his hands away. “No. That belongs to me, boy. You get it when I say you get it.”
He positioned himself between his lover’s legs and rubbed the head of his cock gently over Jack’s balls and down further, hearing Jack groan, watching his chest heave and his back arch, his muscles trembling. “You want me, Jack?”
“Fuck…”
“You want me to fuck you?”
He dragged the swollen head of his cock over that waiting, wanting opening, watching it clench in anticipation. Jack tried uselessly to thrust toward him, to prolong the contact. “Please…gotta…gotta…”
Ennis rubbed in a slow circle, pushing in a little now, feeling him open up almost involuntarily before he withdrew again. “I ain’t hearing the words, boy.”
“Fuck…me…” Jack gasped.
Ennis watched that beautiful body writhe underneath him, drunk on his helplessness, at how much Jack wanted him, needed him. Mine, he thought, fiercely. Mine.
“Please, Ennis,” Jack’s voice cracked with desperation. “Please, God, fuck me…”
Time to take it home. Ennis stood up again, lifting Jack’s legs, pulling him to the edge of the table. He gripped his cock firmly, lined up the swollen head with Jack’s entrance and began to push.
“Oh, God,” he groaned as Jack’s body convulsed, the tight ring of muscle grabbing and squeezing him mercilessly. “Oh, God…”
Jack made an anguished sound like an animal in pain, head rolling from side to side, mouth working soundlessly. Ennis was panting, fighting to get all the way inside, struggling not to do what every fiber of his being wanted to do - let go and plunge into that hot, sweet, tight channel like a battering ram. He closed his eyes, sweat running down his face as the last inch slid home and he could feel his balls against Jack’s ass. It was so good, so fucking good, there was nothing else on this earth that felt anything remotely like this…
“Ennis, for Christ’s sake, fuck me!” Jack gasped.
Ennis’s control was sliding away rapidly now. He pushed his hands up the back of Jack's thighs, gripping tight, leaning forward to fuck him with deep, hard thrusts. He could hear Jack groan with every inward slide and feel him shudder every time he withdrew again. Reality receded, his surroundings graying out around him - all that mattered now was the hot, tight, beloved body beneath him. “That’s it,” Ennis panted, “That's it, Jack...you like it when I fuck you, don't you? You like it when I give it to you like this…”
“Yes,” Jack managed. “Oh, God, yes…”
“You’re mine.” He was picking up speed now, driving harder and faster and deeper. “You got a tell me that, Jack. You got a tell me you belong to me.”
“Ennis,” Jack groaned.
“You got a tell me, Jack…” Ennis ground the words out with difficulty, so close now, nearing the point of no return. He closed one hand around Jack’s rigid, jerking erection, beginning to stroke him in time with his thrusts. Jack writhed and bucked underneath him, reaching down to grab at him, pull him deeper inside, driven beyond reason to fuse their bodies together, to merge completely with him, to become one.
"Tell me!” Ennis shouted, pounding him almost violently now, using all his strength, the table shaking with the force of his thrusts, riding shockwaves of pleasure so unbearable that they were almost pain. Jack clenched around him like a vice, sucking him deeper still until he felt as though he was being swallowed whole. “Tell me who you belong to, Jack! I got a know!”
Jack gasped for breath, hanging on the knife edge. Ennis was hitting that magic spot with every thrust now, sending electric shocks slamming through his tortured body. All conscious thought was gone, so hot, so hard, so deep, filling him, never stop, too much, too good, can’t hold it, oh, God, Ennis, I’m comin’, I’m comin’… “You!” he almost screamed as the freight train hit him and he arched up off the table and his cock spewed like a geyser, over and over again, shooting so far and hard he felt the heat splash down on the top of his shoulder, knew some had gone clear over his head. Ennis felt his balls draw up hard at the sight, his powerful thrusts still striking Jack’s prostate, every inward stroke making Jack’s cock jerk convulsively, sending another ribbon of white shooting into the air. It was too much, too primal a vision, his lover’s entire body so completely and helplessly enslaved to his every movement. Ennis felt the fireball rush upwards through him and he lost it, plunging forward with a great cry, pumping torrents of hot cream so far up his lover’s exquisite channel that Jack swore he was coming in his throat.
At last it was over, the spasms dying down. Ennis’s rigid muscles unlocked all in a rush and he sagged forward, dragging in breath, shaking and trembling. Jack’s body lay sprawled out beneath him, chest heaving, limbs still shuddering from the force of his release. Ennis gazed down at the beautiful sweat streaked face, leaning forward to kiss him gently, knowing in that moment that he loved him utterly, totally, and beyond all reason.
Jack was almost too weak to return the kiss, eyes closed, senses gone. Ennis realized his mouth was moving, trying to say something. He leaned close so he could hear.
“What…why did…?”
Ennis tightened his fingers on Jack’s arm, knowing he was going to leave bruises. “Heard you on the phone,” he muttered. “Talkin’ to God knows who… Cain’t stand to hear you say those things, Jack, to other people…cain’t stand it when you’re here with me like this…”
Jack’s eyes opened, staring at him, and then Ennis saw comprehension begin to dawn in that deep cobalt blue. To his utter surprise and confusion, Jack began to laugh. “Oh, Ennis, you dumb sonofabitch.”
“Hey,” Ennis growled, moving to straighten up.
But Jack reached and held him by the arms, keeping him close. “I was talkin’ to Bobby,” he said, still laughing. “He’s got himself a girl he’s tryin’ a impress, an’ she’s havin’ trouble in drivers’ ed, cain’t get the hang o’ parallel parkin’. Bobby asked if I c’ld take ‘em out in the parkin’ lot, see if I can teach her like I did him.” He let go with one arm so he could wipe his eyes. “An’ you thought…”
“Shut up, Twist.” Face flaming with embarrassment, Ennis tried again to break away. Jack held on, let Ennis’s retreat pull him up to a sitting position. He put his hands either side of Ennis’s face and kissed him softly, smiling.
“Fuck, boy, you take on like that every time you think you hear somethin’, I’m going a take that phone everywhere we go. And that’s a fuckin’ promise!”
Breakfast
Title: Cabin Fever II - Breakfast
Rating: NC-17.
Pairing: Jack/Ennis
Teaser: Part II of our boys in Don Wroe's cabin. But could there be a little trouble brewing in paradise..?
Disclaimer: Jack and Ennis are not mine. Neither are any of the other original characters from the wonderful "Brokeback Mountain." They belong to Annie Proulx, and I am only borrowing them for a little while...
Author's Note: RL is being a cast iron bitch from hell, so I decided it was high time for some smut. :-)
He was sitting at the kitchen table of the old apartment over the laundry in Riverton, the girls running through the rooms, shrieking and laughing as they played. Alma was at the stove, her back to him, and there was the smell of breakfast frying.
She turned to him then, set a hugely laden plate of bacon and sausage in front of him. He realized suddenly that the entire table was full of plates like this…swaying towers of eggs, bacon, sausage, toast. Enough to feed an army, and she was still cooking. From the looks of her sweaty forehead and frizzed out hair, she’d been doing it for quite a while.
“Alma, what in the name o’…”
“You’re not goin’ fishin’ until you finish your breakfast, Ennis,” Alma said, her voice sliding off kilter, her stare just this side of crazy. She brandished the metal spatula for emphasis. “And you ain’t givin’ that Jack Twist none, neither. He’s had more ‘n enough o’ what’s mine.”
Ennis jumped up and ran to the window. Jack was standing out there beside the same red and white truck he’d arrived in after that four year absence, dressed in the same clothes. Only difference was, there was two feet of snow on the ground now, and Jack looked like he’d been there since before winter set in. Ennis ran to the front door, but it was locked tight.
“I said no, Ennis.”
“Alma, it’s freezin’ out there!” he protested.
She turned back from the stove again, murder in her eyes. “Ain’t my fault he don’t drink coffee. Now sit down an’ finish your breakfast!”
Ennis jolted awake, sweating and breathing hard, staring up at an old water stain on a ceiling he didn’t recognize. It took him a couple of bad moments before his memory caught up, and then he closed his eyes again with utter relief, sagging back on to the pillow. He was in the master bedroom of Don Wroe’s cabin, and crazy Alma and her spatula had only been a dream.
He sat up, drawing a hand down his face, her sweaty, manic face still a little too vivid in his mind. Christ.
Jack was nowhere to be seen, but his scent lingered in the sheets, teasing Ennis’s nose. Then his stomach began growling as another smell caught his attention…bacon frying. Breakfast.
Ennis swung his legs out of bed, went across the hall to take a piss and splash water on his face. Returning to the bedroom, he bent to gather the jeans and boots he’d discarded earlier. As he pulled them on, thinking about how they’d wound up on the floor in a heap in the first place made his mind drift back to what they’d done earlier that morning, the remembered feel of Jack’s body in his arms spreading a warmth through him that went far deeper than just the moments of fierce passion they’d shared. This was something else, something more - something he only felt when he was with Jack. Contentment.
All this, an’ a bed, in the bargain. Ennis couldn’t help a little smile as he recalled Jack’s words. A man of few positive expectations, he didn’t know how his heart could ever feel more full than this.
He shrugged back into his shirt, straightening the collar with one hand as he headed for the kitchen. If he was lucky, Jack hadn’t started making coffee yet.
He was halfway down the hall when he heard something he didn’t expect. Jack was talking - but not to him. There was no answering voice, and it took Ennis a moment to realize that Jack must be on the phone. His steps slowed as he wondered if he should go back to the bedroom, give him some privacy. This wasn’t something they’d dealt with much, out there in their usual campsites in the mountains.
“Yeah, I know, but it’s only one more weekend, if you look at it like that,” Jack was saying. “You c’n wait that long, cain’t you?” A pause. “Don’t you worry none, I’ll be back Sunday.”
Ennis frowned, coming to a halt now. Who in hell was Jack talking to? He struggled with a burst of jealous irritation - this was their time, theirs alone. Their brief time to make everything else in their distant and separated lives go away, their time to exist only for each other. Didn’t Jack know that?
And what did that mean, you c’n wait that long? Wait that long for what?
Jack laughed. “Yeah, you bet. As many times as we c’n both stand it.” Another pause. Then: “Listen, I better go, this is long distance an’ it ain’t my phone. Yeah, me too. See you Sunday, bud.”
Something shifted inside Ennis, deep down, something that made his stomach queasy. He barely heard Jack hang up the phone, just standing there, trying to make sense out of what he had just heard. See you Sunday, bud.
Ennis felt the slow, corrosive burn of anger start in his chest, tried to get a hold of it. He wasn’t going to go off like a bull with his territory being violated, he told himself, not until he’d given Jack a chance to explain. Let him reassure him that it wasn’t what it sounded like.
He didn’t want to think about what it sounded like. Even if what he heard was lies, it was better than thinking about that.
In the kitchen, Jack had breakfast in full swing. He was standing at the stove, his back to Ennis, humming under his breath as he fried rashers of bacon in the pan. To his right on the counter were warming plates holding growing stacks of pancakes and sausage. Like Ennis, he had put on jeans and an unbuttoned shirt, but he hadn’t put his boots on yet. Ennis paused in the doorway, studying his back, the wide shoulders, the play of muscle under the blue cotton as he reached to flip another couple of rashers on to a plate. His eyes traveled slowly down to Jack’s ass, straining against the denim of his jeans as he leaned over. Not too many sights in this world were finer than Jack Twist’s ass, and he for one could spend a long time looking at it.
And it belonged to him.
“Mornin’, Ennis.” Jack glanced over his shoulder, enough so Ennis could catch a glimpse of that snow-melting smile. “Coffee’s on. You better be hungry, got kinda carried away in here, real honest to God appliances to cook on an’ all.”
Ennis came right up behind Jack, leaning close to him and catching a whiff of his slightly musky scent, mingled with soap fresh from the shower. Kept his tone even. “How long you been up?”
“Half hour, give or take.”
“Should a woke me. Could a washed your back.”
Jack laughed. “Well, there’s the thing, bud…I kinda wanted a get breakfast b’fore the middle of the afternoon.”
Ennis nuzzled Jack’s hairline, feeling the familiar little shiver. “Anythin’ interestin’ goin’ on?”
Jack snorted. “Not unless you call pushin’ food around a pan interestin’. An’ if you do, you got a get out more, Ennis.”
Ennis’s arms slipped underneath Jack’s shirt, his mouth opening against the smooth skin of his neck, sucking just a little. Jack sighed, eyes closing, head falling back on to Ennis’s shoulder as his lover’s calloused fingers brushed lightly over his bare chest. “You ain’t done nothin’ else?” Ennis probed.
Jack raised his head again, giving him an exasperated flick of those bottomless blue eyes. “I don’t fuckin’ believe it, you’re still mad at me ‘cause I slept in a couple a hours this mornin’! Christ, Ennis, just one time I want a see you drive fourteen hours straight an’ then go bouncin’ out a bed at the crack of fuckin’ dawn.”
Ennis frowned, where Jack couldn’t see it. He couldn’t figure out if Jack was being deliberately obtuse or not, and he couldn’t stop himself from obsessing about who he had been talking to, what those words had meant. But he also couldn’t make himself ask the question directly, couldn’t cross that line from his side. The frustration ate at him, adding fuel to the dark flame inside him. Why couldn’t Jack just tell him he’d been on the phone, make it all better?
Even if he had to lie.
Yeah, you bet. As many times as we c’n both stand it.
“Ennis,” Jack said. “You’re grindin’ your teeth again.”
Ennis grunted. He made himself focus on the breakfast Jack was still cooking. “Anythin’ I c’n do to help?”
“Nah. Go sit yourself down and wait.”
“You sure?” Ennis touched his lips to the back of Jack’s neck again, slowly moving back up to the hairline. He breathed in deeply, inhaling that musky scent again, that combination of salt and sweet that was uniquely Jack. The fire of possession was burning hard in him now. He wanted to brand Jack with it, mark him all over, leave him with no doubts of who had staked first claim.
“Yep. Cain’t cook with you standin’ there like that, boy. Go sit.”
“You real sure?” Ennis’s hands drifted down Jack’s waist, sliding over his hips and on to his stomach, feeling the sensitive skin there flutter under his fingers.
Mock stern, Jack waved the spatula - an odd echo of Alma in the dream. “Ennis, git over there to that table or I’m going a use this. Pancakes going a burn.”
“Is that so? Maybe you should do somethin’ about all that heat, then,” Ennis told him. “Or I got a better idea, let me do somethin’ about it…”
He slipped one hand down over the front of Jack’s jeans, deliberately stroked the bulge he knew was growing there. With the other hand he reached around and turned off the heat under the pan.
“Ennis…” Jack murmured, eyes closed. “Ain’t you hungry…?”
“You bet, boy.” Ennis’s voice was a deep, husky growl that went straight to Jack’s groin, his hardening cock twitching against Ennis’s fingers through the denim. Ennis turned Jack’s face toward him and kissed him, the darkness inside him thrilling at the low moan in his lover’s throat. All thought of food forgotten, he deepened the kiss, feeling Jack’s mouth open against his, sucking Jack’s tongue into his mouth.
Jack trembled as he felt Ennis’s arms encircle him again. He broke the kiss and stared down, breath hitching, watching those strong, sure fingers unsnap his jeans and slide the zipper down. “Not that I’m complainin’, exactly, but what’s got into you this mornin’?”
Ennis gripped his hips and pulled back, grinding the hard bulge of his own arousal against Jack’s ass. “I’d be thinkin’ about what’s goin’ a get into you, boy. Real soon.”
His hands slipped inside Jack’s jeans, freeing his erection. Jack made a choked sound and his head fell back against Ennis’s shoulder again, surrendering to his mouth. Ennis closed his eyes and ground harder against Jack’s ass, contrasting that display of strength with a soft brushing of his fingertips up and down Jack’s swelling shaft, knowing that the too-light caress would quickly make Jack crazy. He teased around the flared head, rubbing in a gentle circle over the sensitive slit, never giving him quite enough friction. As Ennis had known he would, Jack grunted in frustration and rocked his hips forward, trying to increase the contact. Ennis kept it up for a moment more, then all of a sudden changed tactics and closed his hand tight around that hot, stiffening cock.
“Fuck!” Jack was lost, moaning, thrusting helplessly as his lover worked him just the way he liked it, long firm strokes that went all the way from base to tip in one smooth move. Ennis heard his own breath grow harsher, wondering if Jack could feel the heat of his cock through both pairs of jeans as he began to slide it up and down over the crack of his Jack’s willing ass. Just the thought of how it would feel to plunge home balls deep inside him, fucking that hot velvet channel over and over until Jack cried out for mercy, made his cock throb violently with anticipation.
Jack was right there with him, pushing back against him hungrily, wanting it now. Ennis took him by the shoulders and began to turn him around, and Jack went with it eagerly, reaching for him.
Yeah, me too. See you Sunday, bud.
Ennis growled out loud, trying to force from his mind the sudden vision of Jack in another man’s arms. He grabbed Jack’s arm and kept him turning, pushing him face down over the kitchen table, upper body flat on its surface. Before Jack could recover from the surprise and figure out what was going on, Ennis was yanking his jeans down. “Ennis, what the fuck…?”
He broke off, gasping at the open-palmed smack on his exposed ass. “That’s for gettin’ up without me,” Ennis growled, the words that really wanted to be spoken too ugly for him to give voice to. One hand holding Jack firmly in place, he kneed Jack’s legs apart, pulling his jeans all the way off and tossing them across the room. Still imprisoned in his own jeans, his cock surged as he drank in the sight that hung down between the hard muscle of Jack’s thighs. He smacked that inviting ass again, harder this time, not missing the answering jerk of Jack’s cock. “And that’s just because I fuckin’ feel like it. What d’you feel like, Jack? You want more?”
“Ennis, you gone crazy?” Jack struggled to get back upright but Ennis jammed him down on the table with one hand between his shoulder blades, all his weight behind it.
“Don’t you dare fuckin’ move.”
He leaned down and began to drag his mouth and tongue over the red marks his hand had left. Jack groaned deeply, writhing a little, Ennis’s firm hand on his back keeping him pinned down. Ennis had chosen well - there wasn’t much Jack could do to help himself in this position.
Ennis straightened up, glancing around the room. He spotted the bottle of maple syrup. “So you want breakfast, do you, Jack?” he said softly.
“What?” The confusion was clear in Jack’s voice. He tried once more to get up, failed. Then he felt something warm drip on to his tailbone.
“Got a do it right,” Ennis said. “Just can’t have pancakes without this fine maple syrup you brought.”
Jack squirmed, wriggling as the warm, sticky liquid slowly ran down into his crack. Then he was arching and gasping as Ennis’s tongue followed it, scooping it out just short of his asshole. He moaned in frustration as he felt that hot, wet tongue slide over the inside of his ass cheeks, brushing oh, so close but never quite giving it to him where he wanted it most.
“That’s good syrup, Jack,” Ennis murmured. “You want a do that again?”
Jack made a frantic, helpless sound in his throat as the syrup repeated its torturous path. By the time Ennis had done this three times, each time licking up the liquid millimeters short of the target and then circling maddeningly around it, his balls throbbed and his pucker was twitching and pulsing with need.
“You want pancakes with that, Jack?” Ennis dripped more syrup on to Jack’s ass, watching it dribble slowly, so very slowly down, Jack’s hips moving in a slow, desperate, involuntary circle. This time he let it continue, tearing off a piece of pancake from the plate by the stove and dipping it in the sweet sticky stuff smeared all over Jack’s skin. He tasted the concoction and nodded appreciatively. “You know what, Jack, that’s real good,” he said.
Jack grunted, nearly insane from the slow progress of the syrup down his ass. His breath hissed out as the tickling dribble finally reached his anus, so sensitized now that even that slight contact made his body jerk, eyes squeezing shut. Then he was crying out as Ennis’s tongue plunged in after it. “Aaah, God, fuck,” he gasped, bucking, hands smacking down on the surface of the table.
Ennis fucked him slowly with his tongue, sliding in and out and around until Jack was moaning continuously, trying to break the iron grip on his thighs so he could jam his ass back into Ennis’s face. His hands clenched into fists, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his skin. Ennis reached between his legs and caressed his balls, feeling Jack’s answering shudder. Then he bent right down and pulled his lover’s beautiful cock back through his legs, sucking the tip into his mouth.
Jack let out a strangled cry. Ennis swallowed as much of Jack’s thick shaft as he could reach, working his tongue. He watched Jack shift his balance frantically, trying to find a way that he could thrust into Ennis’s mouth while being sucked in this position. He couldn’t, and the frustration was like white heat coursing through his body, unending torture with no relief in sight.
“Please, Ennis, fuck, please,” Jack managed to gasp, upper body arching up off the table in an involuntary spasm, every nerve and muscle shuddering with need. Ennis released his cock at last and straightened up, bending over him, kissing and licking the sweat from his trembling back as he unfastened his own jeans and pulled them down. Jack thought he would come from the feel of his lover’s rigid erection rubbing the length of his crack, skin to skin. “God, fuck me, Ennis, do me now, please…”
“Well,” Ennis murmured, “since you asked so nice, an’ all…”
He pulled Jack roughly up off the table and turned him around, hands either side of his face, kissing him hard. Jack’s body tried to melt into his, but Ennis slid his hands down to his shoulders and held him in place, mouth ravaging the skin of his neck and shoulders, dragging down over his hard muscled chest, licking and biting his nipples. Jack clutched at him blindly, breathing like he’d run a four minute mile, aroused to the point of madness. Then Ennis pushed him backwards on to the table, slipping arms under his thighs to lift him until he was lying flat on his back.
Jack moaned as Ennis pushed his legs apart. Ennis gazed down at him for a moment, drinking in the intoxicating sight, that beautiful body all spread out like this just for him, balls swollen and drawn up tight against his body, impressive cock hard as an iron bar and dripping precome. “You’re mine, Jack” he whispered, unable to help himself. “Ain’t gonna let you forget that, not ever.”
The fierce adoration that lit up Jack’s eyes was too raw, too real for him to look at. He let his eyes fall on Jack’s cock instead, giving him a moment to follow his gaze and realize what he was about to do. Then Jack was arching, gasping and trembling, as Ennis lowered his mouth and sucked him right inside. Jack's hips came up off the table, moaning as he felt himself slip right to the back of his lover’s throat. Ennis made an answering moan, his own neglected cock jerking violently in response, nearly exploding right there from the taste and feel and smell of Jack. He was forced to quickly wrap his fingers around the base, squeezing hard, groaning deeply as he fought to stop his own climax. The vibration in his throat sent helpless shudders rippling through Jack’s body.
Slowly, Ennis regained control. Jack’s head was back, his eyes half-closed in near delirium, fucking his lover’s mouth with slow, rhythmic thrusts. He sucked in his breath as Ennis grabbed the cooking oil and dribbled it over his balls, massaging it into his hot skin, the sucking and licking on his cock never pausing. Then he gave a choked gasp as Ennis’s slick fingers slid into him, easing him open, getting him ready. His hips were rocking hard now, his movements growing frantic, trying to force Ennis’s fingers in deeper, harder. He almost screamed as they zeroed in on that little ribbed gland and caressed it, sending white hot thrills up his spine. “Oh, fuck, please,” he begged. “I cain’t stand it, please…”
Ennis straightened up, reluctantly letting that beautiful cock slide out of his mouth. He stroked his hand lovingly over Jack’s thighs and stomach, feeling the harsh tremors there, seeing him shudder and sweat. He knew he couldn’t hold back much longer. He reached for the oil and slicked himself down, trembling a little from the touch of his own fingers. He was very close himself.
He growled as Jack reached down and tried to stroke his own cock, smacking his hands away. “No. That belongs to me, boy. You get it when I say you get it.”
He positioned himself between his lover’s legs and rubbed the head of his cock gently over Jack’s balls and down further, hearing Jack groan, watching his chest heave and his back arch, his muscles trembling. “You want me, Jack?”
“Fuck…”
“You want me to fuck you?”
He dragged the swollen head of his cock over that waiting, wanting opening, watching it clench in anticipation. Jack tried uselessly to thrust toward him, to prolong the contact. “Please…gotta…gotta…”
Ennis rubbed in a slow circle, pushing in a little now, feeling him open up almost involuntarily before he withdrew again. “I ain’t hearing the words, boy.”
“Fuck…me…” Jack gasped.
Ennis watched that beautiful body writhe underneath him, drunk on his helplessness, at how much Jack wanted him, needed him. Mine, he thought, fiercely. Mine.
“Please, Ennis,” Jack’s voice cracked with desperation. “Please, God, fuck me…”
Time to take it home. Ennis stood up again, lifting Jack’s legs, pulling him to the edge of the table. He gripped his cock firmly, lined up the swollen head with Jack’s entrance and began to push.
“Oh, God,” he groaned as Jack’s body convulsed, the tight ring of muscle grabbing and squeezing him mercilessly. “Oh, God…”
Jack made an anguished sound like an animal in pain, head rolling from side to side, mouth working soundlessly. Ennis was panting, fighting to get all the way inside, struggling not to do what every fiber of his being wanted to do - let go and plunge into that hot, sweet, tight channel like a battering ram. He closed his eyes, sweat running down his face as the last inch slid home and he could feel his balls against Jack’s ass. It was so good, so fucking good, there was nothing else on this earth that felt anything remotely like this…
“Ennis, for Christ’s sake, fuck me!” Jack gasped.
Ennis’s control was sliding away rapidly now. He pushed his hands up the back of Jack's thighs, gripping tight, leaning forward to fuck him with deep, hard thrusts. He could hear Jack groan with every inward slide and feel him shudder every time he withdrew again. Reality receded, his surroundings graying out around him - all that mattered now was the hot, tight, beloved body beneath him. “That’s it,” Ennis panted, “That's it, Jack...you like it when I fuck you, don't you? You like it when I give it to you like this…”
“Yes,” Jack managed. “Oh, God, yes…”
“You’re mine.” He was picking up speed now, driving harder and faster and deeper. “You got a tell me that, Jack. You got a tell me you belong to me.”
“Ennis,” Jack groaned.
“You got a tell me, Jack…” Ennis ground the words out with difficulty, so close now, nearing the point of no return. He closed one hand around Jack’s rigid, jerking erection, beginning to stroke him in time with his thrusts. Jack writhed and bucked underneath him, reaching down to grab at him, pull him deeper inside, driven beyond reason to fuse their bodies together, to merge completely with him, to become one.
"Tell me!” Ennis shouted, pounding him almost violently now, using all his strength, the table shaking with the force of his thrusts, riding shockwaves of pleasure so unbearable that they were almost pain. Jack clenched around him like a vice, sucking him deeper still until he felt as though he was being swallowed whole. “Tell me who you belong to, Jack! I got a know!”
Jack gasped for breath, hanging on the knife edge. Ennis was hitting that magic spot with every thrust now, sending electric shocks slamming through his tortured body. All conscious thought was gone, so hot, so hard, so deep, filling him, never stop, too much, too good, can’t hold it, oh, God, Ennis, I’m comin’, I’m comin’… “You!” he almost screamed as the freight train hit him and he arched up off the table and his cock spewed like a geyser, over and over again, shooting so far and hard he felt the heat splash down on the top of his shoulder, knew some had gone clear over his head. Ennis felt his balls draw up hard at the sight, his powerful thrusts still striking Jack’s prostate, every inward stroke making Jack’s cock jerk convulsively, sending another ribbon of white shooting into the air. It was too much, too primal a vision, his lover’s entire body so completely and helplessly enslaved to his every movement. Ennis felt the fireball rush upwards through him and he lost it, plunging forward with a great cry, pumping torrents of hot cream so far up his lover’s exquisite channel that Jack swore he was coming in his throat.
At last it was over, the spasms dying down. Ennis’s rigid muscles unlocked all in a rush and he sagged forward, dragging in breath, shaking and trembling. Jack’s body lay sprawled out beneath him, chest heaving, limbs still shuddering from the force of his release. Ennis gazed down at the beautiful sweat streaked face, leaning forward to kiss him gently, knowing in that moment that he loved him utterly, totally, and beyond all reason.
Jack was almost too weak to return the kiss, eyes closed, senses gone. Ennis realized his mouth was moving, trying to say something. He leaned close so he could hear.
“What…why did…?”
Ennis tightened his fingers on Jack’s arm, knowing he was going to leave bruises. “Heard you on the phone,” he muttered. “Talkin’ to God knows who… Cain’t stand to hear you say those things, Jack, to other people…cain’t stand it when you’re here with me like this…”
Jack’s eyes opened, staring at him, and then Ennis saw comprehension begin to dawn in that deep cobalt blue. To his utter surprise and confusion, Jack began to laugh. “Oh, Ennis, you dumb sonofabitch.”
“Hey,” Ennis growled, moving to straighten up.
But Jack reached and held him by the arms, keeping him close. “I was talkin’ to Bobby,” he said, still laughing. “He’s got himself a girl he’s tryin’ a impress, an’ she’s havin’ trouble in drivers’ ed, cain’t get the hang o’ parallel parkin’. Bobby asked if I c’ld take ‘em out in the parkin’ lot, see if I can teach her like I did him.” He let go with one arm so he could wipe his eyes. “An’ you thought…”
“Shut up, Twist.” Face flaming with embarrassment, Ennis tried again to break away. Jack held on, let Ennis’s retreat pull him up to a sitting position. He put his hands either side of Ennis’s face and kissed him softly, smiling.
“Fuck, boy, you take on like that every time you think you hear somethin’, I’m going a take that phone everywhere we go. And that’s a fuckin’ promise!”