Disclaimer: These characters are based on those by Annie Proulx, and I'm not making money from them.

Introduction: The year? Now. The place? Prince George's County, Maryland, USA. It's a place where urban meets rural, affluent meets poor, being white puts you in the racial minority, and you're more afraid of claiming to be Republican than gay. You root for the Skins not the Ravens, but the O's not the Nationals, and your idea of professional basketball is the Maryland Terrapins, not the Washington Wizards. You don't drink microbrews, and you live less than three blocks from a McDonald's.

About a year ago, Jack Twist finally said goodbye to his closeted high-school-fling turned 20-year-love. Their relationship was going nowhere very quickly, and Jack needed more. What he got was tall, thin, intelligent Ed, who's not afraid of gasp being in love with a man. But, like a drug, he finds he can't quite function in a life without Ennis. He's drawn back towards the man who's been his rock for over two decades. Ennis already lost the love of his life; he's not about to pass up or jeopardize a friendship with Jack. Turn on the sexual tension, and you have yourself a fic.

And yes, it ends with Jack and Ennis forever, just like all things should happy sigh.

AN: Thanks to wannabebrit for the beta! I know about now you all must be thinking I don't sleep or something. And that'd make you very perceptive because it's true. This is a complete story and all chapters can be found on my livejournal, but it may take me a while to get them all uploaded here. There are 18 chapters, and there will be a sequel.

Chapter 1

Jack was frowning down at his Wheat Thins.

"He, is he um... attractive?" Ennis asked, because taking an interest in Jack's love life made something light up inside Jack, something that seemed to need lighting.

Jack shrugged. "He's... yeah, he's..." Jack chuckled, shook his head, and popped some Wheat Thins in his mouth.

"Well, when do I get to meet him?"

Jack swallowed prematurely, pain of unchewed Wheat Thins written in his still-chiseled middle-aged features. "You don't have to do this, Ennis."

"I'm just trying to take some interest..."

Jack sighed. "I know what you're trying to do, and it ain't helping."

"Sorry." Ennis let the hurt register in his voice.

"No, I'm sorry. I..." Jack rose, downed the last of the beer bottle, and headed for the coat closet.

"Where you going?"

"Look, I'm tired. Had a bad day at work today, and I was hoping to just sit with my best friend and watch a little of a bowl game, but I can see I was a fool."

"Jack. I ain't trying to rub anything in. Just trying to... trying to be ok with this thing, alright?"

"Ennis." Jack rubbed a hand over his forehead and eyes, scratching it through his mustache. "Ennis, I know. And it's just amazing. A little too amazing for me. You might not be trying to rub anything in, but you're making me feel about as guilty as can be, like I'm the one rubbing..."

"Jack, just sit back down. I'll get you another beer."

"I can't take this. Making you... in your own home, trying..." Ennis was in the kitchen now, though, burying himself in the fridge. "Ennis, you got to know I'm not trying to hurt you."

"If I thought you were trying to hurt me, I wouldn't be getting you another beer. Just sit back down."

Jack sighed and obeyed.

It was true. This was hard for Ennis. Hard to hear about Jack's new... man friend. Ed. Ennis tried not to think too hard about it, because it made him pretty sick pretty quickly. He wasn't a fool, and he'd known his times apart from Jack were filled with more than just some jerking off. Jack always returned to him a little more knowledgeable. He thought he could be alright with that, because at the end there was them. But there never really had been them. Even after his divorce, after he moved into this one-bedroom apartment in the shit part of Laurel, just a janitor at a local high school... Even then he didn't want Jack to be a real part of that one bedroom. Jack'd spent more than his share of nights there, that was true. The living room still bore marks of his stay in that house. Jack'd bought a decent leather armchair that still stood guardian over all that had been Jack and Ennis, for the twenty three years there had been a Jack and Ennis. That last argument, though, had been the worst, and even Ennis knew he'd screwed up bad. When Jack'd come with a duffel to pack up his belongings, well... Ennis knew Jack would move on. Jack wasn't a loner. He had been raised a loner, divorced his wife young and forced into being a loner, forced further yet by Ennis. But Jack'd made friends at work. He went to D.C. every once in a while and enjoyed the nightlife there. Ennis? Ennis just worried about school maintenance. One time, he'd gone to Laurel Mall alone and picked up an ice cream cone from the second floor shop where he used to take his daughters when they weren't even waist-high. They didn't have no time for him anymore, either. Just like Jack.

Once, he'd had what every dad wanted. He'd always been a high school janitor. Hadn't graduated from high school himself, so he gathered he was lucky to have even that. He and Alma had had a nice, cozy little two-bedroom in a more upstanding part of Laurel. She'd wanted to save up to buy their own house in a lovely subdivision, maybe someplace like Bowie or Glendale. Well, she'd got it alright. Somewhere out in Gaithersburg, where Ennis didn't hardly want to drive if his life depended on it. He'd never been fond of the Beltway, didn't trust having so many cars so close. She'd divorced him and married Brad, and Brad had money, a six-bedroom, a three-car garage, and Bichon Frise named Puffball.

Alma, forever the Home Ec teacher, had gone from teaching Home Ec at Laurel High School, where cops had to patrol the halls and the teachers were paid in whatever leftover pennies the P.G. County government could scrounge together, like everywhere else in the piss-poor county, to teaching at Quince Orchard. Ennis had been in the P.G. County School System long enough to feel a ping of hatred and betrayal. Bad enough his wife had left him for another man and took his daughters to Montgomery County, but did she have to turn traitor and work for their fucking rich school system, too?

So here he was. His secret lover for almost more years than he could remember, since high school, had left him for Ed. Nice, handsome, tall, out-of-the-closet Ed. His wife of twenty years had left him for Brad. Nice, rich, Presbyterian-choir-directing Brad. His oldest, Junior, was at Towson State. His youngest, Jenny, was too preoccupied with school plays and musicals to have time for him any more. Plus, his doctor said he had high blood pressure, so now he couldn't even have a fucking steak. Most days Ennis just came home from work, drank a beer or eight, and passed out in bed.

But more and more frequently, he'd come home to find Jack in the leather armchair, beer in hand. The first time had been three months ago, almost a full year since he'd last seen Jack. The sight of him had made all of Ennis's emotions swim and cry out for release, but he'd just stood, mouth-agape in his own doorway, afraid that any sudden movements would scare off the object of all his desires.

Jack had set the terms this time. They were just friends. Jack and Ed were having some trouble. Jack needed someplace he could go to get away from Ed, and he didn't know where else to be. He still had a key. Ennis hadn't wanted to take it away; it stood as a silent talisman of his hope, knowing his key was still in Jack's pocket or junk drawer or wherever, that Jack could always come back. He'd said as much to Jack when they'd met to break up slightly more peacefully. Ennis knew he'd overstepped every bound he owned during their last fight together, blasting with canons roaring into the shooting zone. But at the last he'd told Jack true, use the key anytime, come back any time, I'll listen to whatever you want me to hear.

So he'd heard about Ed. He'd heard about Ed and his work schedule, how Ed didn't like having dinner parties and Jack did, how Ed didn't want a dog and Jack did. He hadn't said much. Hearing all about what Ed and Jack had was killing him inside, but simply having Jack in his life, even if they were just friends, was more light and hope than he'd ever thought to see again. He'd already had and lost Jack as a lover. If he lost Jack now as a friend... Ennis had never been a careful man, but that would be carelessness unforgivable.

Ennis plopped back down on the couch.

Jack smiled over at him from the arm chair. The smile was genuine, real and warming, and after twenty three years together, he could read Jack's expressions. God he wanted to touch that man, but he didn't dare, didn't dare. He held out the beer to Jack, and released the bottle a little too late, long enough for fingers to brush fingers. It was intentional, and Jack knew, but didn't say anything.

Minutes passed until the next commercial break, and Jack turned his voice, but not his eyes, to Ennis. "I'm real sorry that bitching about Ed is the only reason I ever come over. I missed you."

Jack turned his head then, meeting Ennis's eyes, causing Ennis to flinch and look away before his own eyes betrayed too much. "I missed you, Ennis. You know it never would have worked out between us, not really, but... damn. You're like... like fertilizer or something. I can survive without you, but I need you around if I'm gonna flourish. Don't know why I didn't see that before. I'm real glad we can be friends."

Ennis nodded, a choked "yup" escaping his lips.

"Wasn't sure this'd work, but... But dammit, you been my best friend over half my life. You know Ed doesn't even like football? And he drinks those fancy micro brews." Jack swallowed a mouthful of MGD and made a refreshed, gasping sound, like in those TV commercials. "Ed? He's jealous as anything. Tell you that. He... I guess he has a lot of me, but some parts he won't ever know, and he begrudges you them, you know he does, Ennis."

"Jack," Ennis spoke quickly before his guts left him. He spoke sincerely, his heart flopping out, pulling between his teeth grating against his soul to speak these words, but he needed to know. "You really happy with him?"

Jack's eyes found Ennis's again, before they lit up, his smile soft and familiar and the usual one he gave while inviting a kiss, though Ennis guessed that wasn't its meaning this time, wouldn't ever be its meaning again. A lot of the old forms of communication between them had been physical, but this new relationship-- it made Ennis work out new forms, new ways to understand Jack, new ways to see Jack's meaning. The smile didn't mean "kiss me." Probably it never had. It meant something else, something that got interpreted as "kiss me" in the days when that was alright. Whatever it mean, it made Ennis blush and look down at his clenched hands in his lap.

"Yeah, I am." Jack rattled the Wheat Thin box. There weren't many left. "Just one question, Ennis. Do you... Ah shit, never mind. It's a stupid question anyway."

Ennis though he knew what Jack wanted to ask. And yeah, there'd been a time when it would have been a stupid question for sure, but those days were dropping behind him like skin from a snake, as he twisted and writhed in his confining, lonely life. Jack wouldn't want to ask it. It'd jeopardize everything they had now.

Ennis wanted to call words to his mouth, to say "God yes, Jack. Anything, Jack. Leave Ed, move in with me, I'll try and find a better paying job, maybe take the opening at Blair, we'll buy a house, someplace nice, have our own garage, two cars for two men who both own cars, and we'll have people over whenever you want, and a dog, too, and you can bitch to Ed about me, I just need you back, need your light back in my life, 'cause if I fertilize you, you water me entirely and I'm just about to die without you."

But it occurred to him that maybe Jack had been planning on asking something else. Like maybe if he had more Wheat Thins. And his voice caught in his throat like a sob. He didn't dare risk the once-or-twice weekly presence Jack was in his life. It was too much, too much to gamble with. The despair that overtook Ennis then was horrible, like when his mom died. He felt so utterly alone. There'd always been this one person he'd shared every last thought with, but at last there were thoughts he couldn't share with Jack. All because he'd said some things over the years, things he'd thought, for sure, but things he should have kept to himself. Maybe he should keep this one to himself, too.

They drank and watched the game, not cheering for either team in particular until one came out far ahead. Jack always cheered for an underdog, and Ennis always cheered against Jack, just 'cause it was more fun that way.

Out of Wheat Thins and football, Jack rose once again to grab his coat. He hovered a moment at the door, Ennis pondering the the appropriateness of a hug, and seeing that same question reflected in Jack's careless gaze. The question hung between them until Jack was strong, for it was Jack who had reason to be strong now, and he blew out a hard breath, saying, "Night, Ennis. Take care. Had fun. See you soon."

Jack loped out into the mild winter air, his breath leading him. Ennis watched him all the way to his car before shutting the door and returning to the bedroom for the only intimacy he got any more, and needing it as much as anything from having Jack's scent still lingering in the apartment.

He didn't know how much longer he could do this. It was killing him to see Jack and not have him, but it had killed him more to not see him and not have him. He'd die eventually of not being able to hold Jack against himself. He knew that. He hoped to at least give Jack some peace this way.

He slipped off to sleep, but his dreams weren't good. They never had been, but they stretched to disproportions now, filled with Ed in all shapes and sizes. For a man he'd never met, Ed haunted his every hour, changed the taste of all his food, dragged the warm apartment air cold over his skin. For tonight, in his own warm home, Jack was warmed by Ed, and it seemed that all that warm that went to Jack was stolen from Ennis still, and at the last.

But Ennis loved Jack, loved him bad. There wasn't a way to hide that any more. Ennis needed to know Jack was happy, and he guessed Jack was happier in the nice townhouse he had in Columbia, with someone who deserved his love and kindness and generosity, someone with a college degree and a proper job.

Maybe, somewhere deep down inside, he even thought his suffering proved to himself how badly he loved, how much he was willing to give of himself. And it was that confirmation that drove him through to the next day. For once in his life, Ennis could look in the mirror and see someone who was giving everyone he loved everything they needed.

Jack dragged his frame back through the doors of his townhouse. The lights were all off except for the modest chandelier over the kitchen table. Ed was in bed. It was for the best. They probably would have just argued a bit or something. Ed wasn't too fond of Jack's growing habit of seeing Ennis. Ed had a lot of habits Jack wasn't too fond of, though, so he guessed it evened out a bit.

Work had been hell today. His boss yelled at him, and he'd had to fire Gary, even knowing his wife was pregnant with their second child. The man had taken it in stride, happy just to be paid for his saved-up vacation time. Gary was a good guy, and a good accountant, but downsizing was downsizing, and he wasn't a star accountant by any measure. It'd had to be somebody, and Jack was glad he wasn't in charge of the decision.

After getting off work, though, the only thing he could think of was seeing Ennis, so he'd stopped at a 7-11 for some snacks and let himself into the familiar apartment, bringing back so many memories. There wasn't hardly a place there they hadn't had sex, and Jack couldn't deny the animal attraction between them was still as strong as ever. Ennis had pulled a stunt tonight with a beer bottle that'd nearly landed him on his back on the worn-bare carpeting. But Jack was trying to make this thing work with Ed. If he really wanted to make it work, he guessed he should say goodbye to Ennis for good. He'd tried that. Gone a whole year without him. Somehow it'd been worse than the four years he'd been away at college while Ennis was marrying and having baby girls. Maybe because now his hope was gone, blown away like so much dust on a windy day.

And yes, when he'd had a hard day, a beer next to Ed had the ability to cheer him... but Ed wasn't Ennis. Every night he returned from Ennis's, he vowed to stay away, knew he was playing with fire. But Ennis was being careful too. He was trying so damn hard to stay within Jack's lines. So hard, in fact, that Jack might have thought that Ennis preferred those lines...

If he hadn't played that stunt with the beer bottle, that is. But he had. Ennis was pushing the lines, blurring them just enough, pressing a big finger into the chalkiness of them and swiping his hand this way and that. Visualizing Ennis's thumb and its movements was not, it turned out, a great way to remember he was just a friend, and Jack dropped his head down to the kitchen table.

Why was he with Ed anyway? They had so much in common. They were both middle managers in nice, shiny office buildings. They were downtown some Saturdays, sometimes jogging through Rock Creek Park, visiting their friends John and Foster in their posh little condo in Adam's Morgan, showering there, going out on the town at night. It was the life, and Jack loved it.

But for some reason he preferred to spend time with Ed when John and Foster, or Scott from work, or Ed's friends Betty and Todd were around. Ed was a great date. The perfect date. He did with Jack all the things... all the things Jack had always wanted to do with Ennis. Jack laid his forehead against the cool marble surface of the table.

Still, if Jack broke up with Ed, it would be admitting defeat. He'd never find another guy that fit him quite so well without being Ennis. If he couldn't make it work with Ed, he couldn't make it work at all, and he was lost for all time in the land called Ennis del Mar.

Jack chuckled, realizing Ennis's name meant island in the sea, and seeing that he might be forever stranded on that desert island without the strength in his bones to pull that island up onto any continent. He could not let that happen.

Leaving these thoughts for a more wakeful time, he pushed himself to his feet. Jack changed into maroon satin pajamas, crawled into bed, and pressed his cold feet up against Ed's calves. He got an answering snuggle, and Jack knew that, for another day, all was well between himself an Ed. He wasn't sure for how long, but for now it was so. And for now was all that mattered right now.