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Apr. 19th, 2006 01:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
e_delmarWhat do you do when your b- the guy you l- the guy you're fucking your friend and you get into a fight? You get yourself good and fucking trashed. It's a long held tradition, and Ennis don't see no reason to change it now. That would be going against the natural fucking order of things, wouldn't it? So shit if Ennis don't just get himself a few bottles of whiskey and slowly - or not so slowly - and surely works his way through them. He almost made it all the way through, too, but that sixth time he got up to piss he couldn't stand too good and figured he ought to go back to the room before he passed out in the middle of the fucking bar. Room. Room bed. Bed soft room soft room good.
There's some loud cursing as Ennis fiddles with the lock, and a few bangs on the door before he manages to swing it open, a loud crash as it hits the wall on the other side, and another loud crash as Ennis trips over something - possibly the floor - and goes sprawling onto his knees. That ain't so bad, though, because that way he can move around without falling. The room's dark, and he can't find his own nose in this fucking place and if he could only find the bed, all would be well with the world.
There's some loud cursing as Ennis fiddles with the lock, and a few bangs on the door before he manages to swing it open, a loud crash as it hits the wall on the other side, and another loud crash as Ennis trips over something - possibly the floor - and goes sprawling onto his knees. That ain't so bad, though, because that way he can move around without falling. The room's dark, and he can't find his own nose in this fucking place and if he could only find the bed, all would be well with the world.
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Date: 2006-04-19 03:38 pm (UTC)And hell if this isn't a time for him to get maudlin. He closes his eyes and leans back a bit, slowly, waiting for Jack's hand to move with him.
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Date: 2006-04-19 03:42 pm (UTC)"Hey now, that's the whiskey talkin'. What've I told you 'bout shuttin' that bastard up, huh?" He pauses, rubs at the back of his neck.
"Stuff matters."
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Date: 2006-04-19 03:45 pm (UTC)"Yeah. Stuff like tractors and rings and wifes and birthdays and it don't."
And it's possible he's not even sure what he's on about now, if he knew to start with.
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Date: 2006-04-19 03:47 pm (UTC)There's a connection somewhere. Jack knows there is. The problem is that he'd have to get himself hammered on what seems like a pint of whiskey in order to find it.
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Date: 2006-04-19 03:51 pm (UTC)"Don't matter."
He says it stubbornly, as if making a point.
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Date: 2006-04-19 03:56 pm (UTC)They've never really mattered to Jack, anyway, though they matter to Lureen a great deal.
"Think I ain't quite followin' you, bud," he says, apologetically. It's a side effect of not being shitfaced.
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Date: 2006-04-19 04:20 pm (UTC)He nods his head, and if it's a bit wobbly, perhaps that's only to be expected.
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Date: 2006-04-19 04:24 pm (UTC)"I do, huh?"
He wonders--briefly, because he doesn't like wondering about it--whether he's ever mattered to anyone before, and clears his throat, looking down.
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Date: 2006-04-19 04:29 pm (UTC)He rolls to his side, wary of the moving bed, and reaches out with another finger to poke Jack. Jack who matters, Jack who follows, Jack.
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Date: 2006-04-19 04:38 pm (UTC)"You ain't gonna be in any kind a shape for chores tomorrow, bud."
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Date: 2006-04-19 04:42 pm (UTC)Maybe. If the sun rises at noon.
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Date: 2006-04-19 04:52 pm (UTC)"Sure, and pigs'll fly."
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Date: 2006-04-19 04:54 pm (UTC)His eyes fall softly shut, and he leans into Jack's hand, Jack's heat, Jack.
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Date: 2006-04-19 05:01 pm (UTC)Jack shifts, leans down till he's propped up on one elbow, more on a level with Ennis. His hand slides slowly along Ennis' side, soothing.
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Date: 2006-04-19 05:06 pm (UTC)