Note: I put up a drabble request post in my LiveJournal and this was written to full the request of "blanket of stars."
Unseasonable Warmth
The morning dawned early, showering the sun down the crags of the mountain early. Jack examined the horizon with a hand shading his eyes, remembering a day like this about this same time last year.
"Sheep're goin a be sweatin' for sure, won't need that jacket up there," Jack advised, pouring the last dregs of the coffee into the dirt.
"Doubt I'll feel nothin'." Ennis slung the jacket over his shoulders and just shook his head when he heard Jack chuckling as he rode away.
The day sweltered, hot and heavy, bringing man and animal alike to their knees; the only relief to be found was in the wind, blowing through every now and then to dry off the sweat and the water, flowing cold and fast as ever. Jack took advantage of both, lying naked at the banks of the river and letting the wind dry him off when he walked back to camp.
The night came, and with it, Ennis. He rode down from the sheep probably earlier than he should have, didn't bother with a shirt, saddle pack stuffed full of his clothes, gave the can of beans a forlorn look muttering about "too hot to even fuckin' eat," discarded the heavy boots and plopped down next to Jack beside the unlit fire.
Jack didn't open his eyes for some time, sensing in that way of his when Ennis had cooled down just enough; he reached out, touching soft until the muttering turned into low murmurs and they went to it slow and sultry, sweat making the jeans slip off easy, a cool night wind bringing goose bumps up on their skin. Jack tasted like the snow of the river, Ennis, the meadow sage, and they spent the heat of the day onto the crushed grass, saying not a word, but none needed.
They slept inside one another that night, the wind carrying their dreams, the stars their only blanket.
