e_delmar | (no subject)

(no subject)

They're hardly in the room before Ennis has Jack pinned against the wall, hands scrambling at his shoulders, kissing where he can. It's hard to remember that this isn't his Jack. This is some other, younger, different Jack. But he smells like Jack and tastes like Jack and kisses like Jack.

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Jack falls, boneless and heavy, against him, sweat-slick and breathing hard.

Red marks are coming up on his shoulder from Ennis' teeth, but he doesn't even feel it.

"Jesus."

He takes a deep breath, lets it out slow.

"I don't never know how you can do that."

He's yawning, and he's reaching for his shirt, pulling the pack of cigarettes out of the pocket. He takes a deep pull and hands it over to Jack even as he falls backwards on the bed, hands rubbing against his face.

Jack laughs, a low rumble in his chest, shifts closer to Ennis while taking a drag of the cigarette.

"Ain't done it for a long while. Jesus. Forgot you was so damned good."

The cigarette gets handed back, and Jack pushes a hand up through his hair, standing it up wild.

He wants to ask, again, even though he knows the answer. He wraps his arm around the back of Jack's shoulders and ruffles the hair, moving it even more out of place.

"Ain't nothing like this."

He reaches back for the cigarette, just one more puff, and he's closing his eyes, leaning his head over on Jack's shoulder.

"Nothin at all," Jack agrees, tired.

He watches Ennis, though, and his hand comes up, gentle, to brush over Ennis' cheek, over sweat-damp hair, before his own eyes slide shut and he lets out a long breath.

Ennis' breathing deepens, evens out, and he turns slightly, curling into Jack's side as he slips into sleep.

For all that he is exhausted, it's a while yet before Jack can slip off, but the sound of Ennis' breathing is soothing, and after a while he takes Ennis' hand, pulls it over his waist and clasps it with his own.

A few moment later, he has drifted off.

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