Gift of Exile (a Brokeback Mountain fanfic) Chapter 6

excerpt from Chapter 6: Ennis spends more time with his daughters but is tormented by fantasies of what his life with Jack might have been.

He’d had only fleeting impressions of the run-down ranch in Lightning Flat on his way in. The house, he’d noticed, had needed painting and other repairs badly, although it looked solid and Jack’s mother had kept it scrupulously clean and freshly whitewashed inside. But Jack’s father’s words, though some of them had bled him out inside and forced tears to his eyes – the first he’d shown in front of strangers since childhood – had also made him notice details of the land and the house’s surroundings on the way out: “had some half-baked notion the two o’ you was gonna move up here, build a cabin, help run the place.” He’d looked at the barns, the cattle scattered about, the four mature cherry trees in back, and a flat spot with an ancient grove on a rise above a stream, about 100 feet from the house. He wouldn’t have noticed more than the rutted, pebbly road he was driving on if it hadn’t been for the Old Bastard’s words.

At least once a week, they had dinner with Jack’s mother and the Old Bastard, come what may. Her cooking, Jack was quick to admit, was light-years better than his and the Old Bastard had even become marginally more friendly since the efforts of two younger men working on the rundown ranch were starting to bear fruit. But Ennis was amazed at how skillfully Jack turned these prosaic occasions into opportunities to tease him. Even the shirt he usually wore to dinner in The House, as both of them referred to it.

Ennis had made a trip to Riverton a few months ago to see Jenny in her senior high school play, in which an actor had appeared wearing a ripped-up shirt damaged in an offstage brawl. He’d asked Jenny afterward if the costume people had made a different shirt for every performance, and she’d hooted. “Daddy, you must be the last person in the world to hear about Velcro!”

And he’d had to mention that to Jack. On his next trip to Gillette for supplies, Jack had taken a sky-blue cotton shirt with him and had the buttonholes replaced with Velcro, leaving the buttons for public view to hide how easy it was to rip the shirt off. He’d taken to wearing it to The House on these dinner occasions and would smile at Ennis innocently across the narrow table, fingers artlessly brushing the plackets and cuffs in between bites of Dorothy Twist’s macaroni and beef casserole. . Once Ennis tried kicking him under the table but the only result was “ouch! Watch it, Ennis”, after which Jack’s foot had stealthily crept forward to wedge against his own. Finally, to avoid looking at Jack, Ennis had complimented Mrs. Twist on the casserole – ‘ma’am’, he still called her, unable to say ‘Mother’ as yet – relieved that the uncomfortable pressure in his jeans wasn’t anything visible under the carefully patched tablecloth she brought out for these weekly dinners.

Another thunderstorm was moving slowly in as they walked back to the cabin later, the lightning that was as much a fixture here as wind throwing the clouds into sharp relief. But the walk was a short one, Jack purposely not hurrying, The door had hardly closed behind them before Ennis had pulled Jack to him, one hand on the back of Jack’s head as he kissed him and the other hand struggling with the snaps on his jeans; wondering why Jack didn’t have Velcro put on them as well. Then he yanked Jack’s modified shirt open, still turned on by the ripping sound it made; and pulling it off his shoulders fast enough that Jack had to pull apart the cuffs to keep them from ripping in earnest: “think you’re somethin’ doncha, Jack Twist?” “I’d say you think so,” Jack answered as he down at the edge of their bed, pulling off his boots and jeans and still looking at Ennis with that exaggerated innocence.

Ennis sat down behind him, running his hands up Jack’s sides, deliberately bypassing the nipples he knew were so sensitive. Instead, both his hands traveled down Jack’s unresisting arms, pulled them out slightly, moved back up the tender skin underneath from the wrist up to the elbow and then back down. As they did, Jack crossed his arms just under his shoulders as if hugging himself, which laid Ennis’ hands over his nipples. Ennis fingered them lightly with his left hand but only briefly, just long enough to feel Jack’s muscles tense. He was going to pay him back for that teasing at dinner. They had world enough now, and time.

His right hand moved down to Jack’s knee and languidly up the inside of the thigh, right hand cupping his balls and right thumb caressing them lightly and then moving forward a bit to trace up and down the now-throbbing vein in his cock. Jack was gasping now, head arched back and to one side, giving Ennis plenty of room for leisurely nibbles down the side of his neck before sinking his teeth lightly into Jack’s shoulder and sucking hard for a moment.

Jack’s body jerked forward as if Ennis’ mouth had been a hot piece of charcoal but Ennis had anticipated that and held his prey in place. “Tease me willya, Rodeo?” he whispered, but his own breath was getting ragged and the pressure on his own jeans more insistent. He released Jack and started to unzip his own Wranglers but Jack, less intent on teasing him now, turned around and speeded up the process by several seconds.

read the rest of Chapter 6 at http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/2038.html

Gift of Exile (a Brokeback Mountain fanfic), Chapter 5

excerpt from Chapter 5: Ennis and his new friend David go horseback riding. David tells Ennis about how his deceased best friend, stepbrother and lover Nathan came to live with his family, and Ennis and David discover an attraction to each other. 

“Damn, I’m sorry,” David said suddenly.  “We’re out ridin’ on a beautiful day, and here I am talkin’ about plane crashes.  I guess it’s been on my mind lately, it was exactly 22 years ago last week.”

Ennis thought for a moment.  “Hey, you really ride bareback sometimes, like ya said last night?”

“Sure, when I was growin’ up anyway.  Why, you thought I made it up?”

Ennis gave him a sidelong glance.  “Well, they were kinda givin’ you a hard time about your ridin’ last night,” he said a little archly. 

David took the bait, as he had guessed.  “Well, they’re your horses but I can prove it if you don’t believe me.”  Ennis gestured toward David’s horse, and David immediately started undoing the saddle, struggling with the unfamiliar straps and buckles.

“Here…” Ennis walked up next to him and quickly unfastened the saddle.  Standing on slightly sloping ground their feet touched and their arms and shoulders brushed against each other; and Ennis glanced over to find David already looking closely at him.

When they’d met two nights before they had both been wearing suits, with the conventional dark heavy fabric serving its intended function of smoothing out the slopes and angles of male bodies.  Now they were both wearing jeans, Ennis in the type of snapped cotton shirt he’d worn since his teens and David in a sweatshirt, a garment Ennis had never worn but which suddenly seemed improbably sensual to him.  The sleeves were pushed up slightly, enough to show the light growth of fine dark hair on the wrists above the squarish but fine-boned hands with their short spatulate fingers.  Ennis did not look down, but during their side-by-side rides he had already noticed, with awareness of it only half-surfacing, the compact legs and slightly rounded buttocks.  He suddenly wanted more than anything to slide his hand under the soft fabric and up David’s back and then down again.  His thoughts would have progressed further than that, but the realization in the same moment of his stiffening cock and of David frozen with one hand on the saddle, looking back at him, stopped them in their tracks.

“I’ll do it.”  David’s voice sounded somewhat shaky despite the casual words, but he turned and pulled the saddle off the horse’s back.  There was no anger nor fear nor hostility in his manner, just a hand put out to stop a slowly swinging door from opening any further.

Ennis untethered his own horse, the familiar action dispelling the momentary sense of the world having shifted subtly and of his suddenly being in some alien realm with all signs written in unreadable languages.  He swung himself up into the saddle and David stepped on the high end of the log to vault onto his horse’s back.  “Over t’ that fence and back?” he suggested as they rode back out in the sunlight, pointing to a single tree a hundred yards or so away.  Ennis nodded wordlessly, not trusting himself to answer at that moment, and they urged their horses into a canter.

Shaken as he was, he couldn’t resist glancing over.  David’s legs were clinging to his horse’s flanks as if he were shinnying up a fleshy tree, leaning back very slightly, his pelvis rocking rhythmically back and forth with the horse’s three-time gait.  He glanced over at Ennis and smiled triumphantly: “told ya!”   Ennis nodded, but did not look over at him again until they reached the tree.

read the rest of Chapter 5 at http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/1704.html

Gift of Exile (a Brokeback Mountain fanfic), Chapter 4

excerpt: Ennis and his new friend David escape the wedding reception to have a drink, and make plans to go horseback riding the next day.

It was still early but Ennis had known the Black and Blue Eagle would be busy. Riverton had grown a little since he and Alma had gotten married but it was a hard time to start a new business there right now, with the economy the way it was and more ranches folding, some bought up by absentee owners. Good times had come and gone, and there were still few other places to go on Saturday night. As he got out of his truck and watched David close the door of his anonymous-looking rental car, Ennis wondered how the hell he’d gotten into this: two men walking into the bar together and wearing suits at that. And one of “them….”

Queer. Say it. David’s cousin Charlene might not be anyone he’d want to spend even a few hours with but she’d made it clear in just two sentences. And he’d never been that, never had anything goin’ with any man but Jack. But Jack had…. You been to Mexico, Jack? … another one’s goin a come up here … some ranch neighbor a his from down in Texas. He walked through the bar making an effort to not look at anyone but threw a longing glance at a table in the corner, wondering if they’d attract less attention there or just look like they wanted to be alone with each other. David slid onto a barstool before he had a chance to find out, too late. Sitting at the bar, Ennis felt like a car dealership spotlight was only ten feet away and shining directly on them.

“Hey Ennis, lookit you – almost didn’t know ya wearin’ a suit. Who’s your friend?” it was Vickie, owner of the place since her husband had died, she’d been here more than one Saturday night lately; sometimes out here talking to employees and customers and sometimes going through the tiny office in back, drawer by drawer. “Not friends, ma’am, cousins, as of a couple a’ hours ago anyway.” David answered before Ennis could even react, and it seemed like his Southern accent was suddenly stronger. “Ennis’ daughter got married this afternoon, prettiest bride I’ve seen in awhile. Things were startin’ to wind down, and we just needed somethin’ stronger ta drink than punch with lime sherbet.”

Vickie laughed and called to Roy, washing glasses at the other end of the bar, for two beers. “First ones on the house, nobody’s daughter gets married every day” she said. The searchlight had at least dimmed, more quickly than Ennis had thought it could. “So you’re from out of state?” she asked David.

“Yes ma’am, I live in Minnesota now but I’m a good ol’ boy from Georgia. Macon,” David answered. “Never been this far west before.” He pulled a few dollar bills out of his pocket. “Would you have some change? I’d like some music with the beer, don’t seem to have any quarters.”

His drawling voice sounded affable and a little coaxing, but not blatant or aggressively salesman-friendly. He was leaning a little toward her, smiling slowly, eyes narrowed a little and focused on her face, but not getting too close, staying a respectful enough distance so that the impression was more of sociable interest than a conscious attempt to charm. Ennis found it oddly familiar, remembering his short conversation with David’s grandmother earlier. She’d had the same trick in conversation of seeming to pull the other person closer to her, by briefly seeming to draw an invisible and private circle around both of them. Pocketing the change Vickie gave him, David nodded to Roy as he put their drinks on the counter, went over to study the selections on the jukebox.

read the rest of Chapter 4 at http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/1485.html