e_delmar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Ennis tosses and turns, doesn't seem he's got a good night sleep in-

well, fuck, what's it matter?

He ain't been sleeping much, and when he sleeps, doesn't seem to stick.

Doesn't figure that tonight would be different, but somehow it is, 'cause the dripping ceiling's replaced by a star-lit sky, and he rolls to his side to find warmth.

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That something warm grunts a sleepy disapproval of being rolled into, and shifts with a shuffle of clothes, easily.

"'S nice night," says Jack, drowsily.

And if he's surprised, he doesn't show it, doesn't even quite feel it though he know he should, it's all too familiar. All too right.

He grunts and finishes his roll, throwing a lazy arm over Jack.

"Star's're heading back down already."

"Hope it ain't so hot today," Jack mutters, and yawns, jaw cracking. Shifting into Ennis, he watches the sky with sleepy interest, rumpled and pale in the dim light.

"Think the sheep might go 'n get themselves dehydrated, heat like that."

"Fucking sheep," he says, and it's only here, in the middle of the night, not sleeping like this that he'd say something like that.

"Were you sleeping?"

Can't keep his eyes off him, ain't seen him in so long, so long and he knows it ain't real, but he can't help but watch him.

"Must a been," Jack tells him, rolling his head to look over at Ennis with a lazy smile, dark hair falling into his face.

"Slept good 'n heavy, too, seems like. Didn't figure you'd stick around, I guess." The last comes out under another yawn, and he rolls a little, turning under Ennis' arm.

And he remembers that night, then, and how he crept away and rode off, back to the pup tent, back away from Jack and the reality of it all. His stomach sinks as he thinks about it, and then he figures maybe it ain't worth thinking about anyway and smiles at Jack, a smile at the smile he ain't seen in weeks months 10 fucking years and he leans forward to kiss him.

Jack kisses him back, and it sure seems real and solid and warm, and that's Jack's taste and that's Jack's hand slipping over Ennis' waist to knead at the muscles there. There's blood thrumming through Jack's veins, a pulse at his throat, and he kisses hungrily, a little awkwardly, like this is all still new to him.

New, old; it's the most comfortable thing in the world, and it's like learning for the first time, every time. And maybe it's selfish of him to take this chance, to waste it like this but he can't help himself as he pulls Jack close and bites his lip a little, rough and sweet and he puts his head forward, forehead resting on forehead as he catches his breath.

Jack--not yet twenty years old, with all the world ahead of him--smiles, palms Ennis' face with rough affection, buzzing with that pull he feels.

"'s all right," he mumbles, eyes dark in his pale face, his smile lighting up like lightning.

"Glad you stuck around."

All the world, and Ennis knows just what that'll get him, but he's got here and he's got now. And he smiles and whispers wouldn't'a left or something like it and the skin of Jack's chest is hot under his hand, hot and

breathing

alive.

Jack just nods, doesn't say anything, and leans back to rest his head back on one folded arm and look up, coughs a little.

His free hand comes up to cover Ennis'--big and roughworked, but surprisingly gentle now, and his fingers are warm.

Ennis' fingers work their way through Jack's, and he shifts, watching Jack lay out, shifts, feeling Jack under him and FUCK he could cry it feels so good to have him back like this again maybe it ain't a dream because no dream could feel so damn real. And maybe he whispers something like that under his breath, maybe Jack can't even hear him as he does or maybe it's all in his head

in your head he's dead gone dead-

He kisses Jack like he ain't never kissed him before.

It's a force of nature.

Jack's hand that had been behind his own head moves to grip the hair at the back of Ennis', hard, and when he kisses back there's the metallic tang of blood from a split lip. He twines his legs with Ennis', pushes himself into Ennis, and when he speaks into Ennis' mouth, into Ennis' ear, his voice is low and rough and maybe a little desperate. He's saying it's all right and real and ain't goin nowhere, the last with a hint of a laugh under the words.

Ennis feels the heat and the sweat and the fire and somewhere in the background a bell rings six times and what little part of his mind is still thinking on such things might wonder what the hell a bell's doing way the fuck way up on Brokeback, but lucky for him there ain't that much of his mind thinking on it.

He shifts his leg and feels Jack's muscles under him, feels Jack's every move and every breathe and he can't help but choke back his own moan.

"Ennis," Jack begins, and then he doesn't say anything else, only runs his hand up Ennis' back, shifts under him and his eyes burn, blue and young, and his smile is fierce before he kisses Ennis again, hard, pulls him by the loops in his jeans and it's funny how Jack's pulling so hard and Ennis don't seem to be moving any closer to him.

If anything, he seems to be getting further away, and Ennis reaches out, trying to grab for Jack's wrist and gets nothing but a handful of air. Jack's lips are moving, then, saying something something what he can't tell doesn't know won't know and Ennis is shouting but Jack don't seem to hear him.

Maybe he's saying something, and maybe he's smiling, and maybe he's lying there, asleep, and maybe he's lying there too still, and then Jack is right there, pressed up against him, and he mutters

four fuckin years

and then there are no hands fisted in Ennis' shirt, and no breath rushing across his face and Jack's gone.

Jack's gone and Ennis opens his eyes and he's there, there alone, there and cold and he balls his hand into a fist and punches the wall because it's there and it's real.

"Shit." He says it to himself, as he shifts on the sheet, avoiding the damp and curls up into himself and doesn't sleep.

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