August 17, 1979
Ennis del Mar swung his dilapidated old truck into the parking lot of the Catscratch Club, scratching his temple nervously as he turned off the ignition. He glanced at his clean-shaven face in the rearview mirror and saw the fear in his eyes. Shit! He thought, swallowing past a lump in his throat. He hated going out in public, he didn't like any music other than Merle Haggard and Johnny Cash and he was godamn tired of all this disco shit. Alma, the girl who sat next to him in Physics had been bugging him about this "disco-mania" for forever. Growing up in a small town in the northern part of Wyoming caused the high school kids to rebel and pick up on the popular trends a few years late. Alma always wore these tight little jeans that flared out at the feet, she called 'em some kinda "bell-bottom" when he asked her what the hell she was wearing. She donned vests over tight shirts, forsaking a bra for some kind of peace sign paraphernalia. Her hair was growing stringy and long, and was usually greasy and flowing around her shoulders.
Alma was a pretty enough girl, but he didn't really feel much for her. She was so quiet their junior year that he hardly noticed her. It was only this year that he stepped outside of his rambling thoughts and took note of the strange girl sitting next to him. She was constantly chattering on and on about world peace, Gloria Steinem, not shaving her legs... and disco. She went to this club over spring break and didn't shut up about it. Apparently, there was a guy here who really knew how to boogie.
-Flashback to April 20th, 1979-
"Ennis! Hey, Ennis! Wait up, what's the big hurry?" Alma asked, catching up to his brisk walk.
I'm hurryin' to get away from you! What kinda damn nonsense 're ya gonna spout today?
"Yeah?" He snapped, glaring at her as he made his way across the parking lot and towards the small building.
She ignored his attitude and smiled brightly, gasping in an excited breath so she could tell him her newest adventure.
"Well sorry grumpy, but you'll NEVER believe what I did over break!"
Ennis arched an eyebrow and squinted his eyes a little bit, as if to say, "Oh really?"
"Don't ya got somebody else to tell about this?" He asked, tired of this damn fool gettin' in his way.
She brushed away his harsh tone like he had asked about the weather and pressed onward.
"I went to a disco club!" Alma exclaimed.
"A whut?" Ennis was confused. What in the name of Christ was a "disco club?"
"Ya know... where ya go dancin'?" She prompted incredulously.
"Uh... no."
"OH! Well, it's basically this place with loud music and funky lights. Lots of people tend to go to them late at night and dance to the music. Ya heard of the Bee Gees?"
Ennis nodded his head, wincing slightly. He hated that crap.
"Well that kind a music is called "disco" and it makes for some mighty fine dancin'."
Ennis finally reached the doors to the building, and after taking a quick peek for any administrators; he reached into the back pocket of his Levis and pulled out a single cigarette and a lighter. After taking a much-needed drag, he handed the cig wordlessly to Alma as he absorbed her description.
She coughed a little after her first drag, but quickly sucked in a second before passing it back. They stood there in tense silence for a few moments, Ennis feeling his curiosity get the better of him, suddenly burst out with, "So, uh... is just fer gals?"
"Huh?" Alma was startled out of her own reverie, recalling a delicious looking man who had boldly asked her to dance with him.
"Is what for girls?" She asked.
"Is this uh... club thingey. Fer the gals? I mean, uh... do they just uh... dance while the fellas sit at the bar?" Ennis pulled his tattered hat over his eyes, which were fixed on the dark tips of his boots while he asked her.
"Oh NO! Lots of guys dance too! There's this one man... he's some kinda champion. His nickname is "The Twister" because he's really good at movin' his hips. He told me he comes down every Friday night from the farm where he works, said he has to save up all his money for the gas to get to Cheyenne. You shoulda seen him!"
Ennis was a little appalled at the notion of a man moving his hips in front of a room full of people, and his face flushed with embarrassment when he felt a slight stirring in his groin.
"Sounds like a queer ta me." He mumbled, throwing the Marlboro to the ground and stamping it with his boot.
Alma sighed and muttered, "Well he certainly wasn't one when he kissed me," under her breath, but Ennis heard it loud and clear.
"What'd you just say?" He asked, anger flaring in his eyes as his lithe body approached her petite frame.
"Uh... I said that I don't think he's queer." She spat, her voice shaking when she saw the anger in his eyes.
"I reckon you'd need some experience to know things like that." He balled his hands into tight fists as he approached her, his feet clacking on the warm concrete like gunshots.
"What the hell Ennis? 'Re you jealous or somethin'? Ya don't hardly give me the time 'a day! We ain't datin', so why should you be mad?" Alma suddenly burst out, confused and hurt by his behavior.
Ennis didn't really know why he reacted that way; he didn't even really like Alma. In some weird sense, he felt protective of her, and he didn't like the idea of her letting some hip-thrusting queer run his hands all over her. It just seemed wrong to him. Not gentlemanly at all.
"I ain't jealous. I just... I don't think... that just don't seem proper to me." He deflated just as quickly as he inflated, relaxing his jaw and lighting another cigarette.
"Improper? Ennis... I hope that I ain't meddlin' but, have ya ever even kissed a girl?" Alma was looking at him in shock, like he was a godamn talkin' beaver or somethin'.
"Maybe." He was looking nervously back at his car, wondering if he could make a quick getaway.
"Maybe? That means no." She huffed, and she patted his shoulder like she pitied him before she sauntered off, tossing her copper hair over her shoulder.
"Mr. Fowler just pulled in!" She called behind as she sashayed her way into the building, and Ennis promptly put out his second cigarette and hurried through the front door.
For the rest of the day, the idea of a man clad in skintight clothing and shaking his booty haunted him like a good memory.
- June 12th, the last day of school-
"Alma! Hey, Alma!"
Alma turned her head and adjusted her round blue sunglasses to peer across the parking lot at a very flustered Ennis stalking toward her on his skinny legs.
"Yeah?" She called over to him, since he was a good fifteen feet away.
The sun was frying everything and everyone on the surface of the Earth, and it was a day that was so hot you could see the hazy squiggles the heat made as it wafted off the blacktop.
Alma was lying on the hood of her car, with her head on the roof and her feet by the grill. She was trying to suntan during their lunch period, and she had her tight tank top hiked up just underneath her small breasts. She was wearing a ridiculously long skirt made out of some kind of thin fabric, and she had that bunched up to the very tops of her thighs. Her Birkenstocks were sitting on the car next to her, tanned and leathery, as her skin would inevitably become if she kept it up for much longer.
Ennis finally stopped in front of her, flushed and sweating. He placed his hands on his knees as he wheezed out a few breaths, and his hat inevitably fell off. He stooped down to grab it, but Alma caught sight of what he had tried to hide underneath it.
"ENNIS, DID YOU GET A PERM?" She practically screeched, and Ennis turned redder than a fire truck before he shushed her.
"Keep yer voice down!"
"Sorry, I was just... surprised." She had actually taken off her sunglasses and was looking at him like he was a butterfly pinned to a corkboard.
"No, I didn't get no goddamn permanent, I just let my hair grow out a little."
"THAT'S NATURAL?" She screeched yet again, while Ennis gritted his teeth and prayed for patience.
"Yes'm." He snapped out, practically at the end of his rope.
"Wow. It looks nice, really." She smiled at him, and Ennis flushed yet again. He wasn't too used to compliments being tossed so off-handedly toward him.
"Thank ya. Now, I just needed to ask ya a question."
"You're welcome. Shoot. Wait, do ya got any more Marlboros? I can't sneak 'em past my daddy, but I love 'em somethin' fierce." She said, leaning up from her catlike position in the sun.
"Uh... sure." Ennis awkwardly dug around in his back pocket, found one and lit it before handing it to her.
"Dunno how ya can smoke on a day as hot as this..." He stated awkwardly, not sure how to ask her what he'd been dying to know ever since their conversation in April.
"I can smoke no matter what the weather is." She giggled a little bit, and took a prolonged drag just to prove her point.
"Heh." He chuckled forcefully, feeling the sweat stains under his arms increase, knowing it had nothing to do with the heat.
"So what can I do fer you?" She asked, sweet as pie.
"Well, uh... I was just wonderin' what the name a that club ya went to was." He tucked in his chin while he said it, looking like a turtle that was scared of it's shell.
"Hah! It was the Catscratch Club, on Main Street in Cheyenne. It's about a four hour drive."
"Thanks, Alma." He said, tipping his hat to her as he scurried away.
Alma just shook her head and stretched back on her car, soaking up some Vitamin D before her American History Class.
- Earlier in the day on August 17, 1979-
The rickety screen door made a clapping noise as Ennis del Mar entered his kitchen.
"K.E!" He bellowed, slipping off his work gloves and slapping them on the chipped kitchen table.
"WHAT?" K.E. called from upstairs.
Ennis took the steps two at a time, wincing as they creaked and shook underneath his slight frame.
"Where are ya?" He asked, looking for his brother.
"Bathroom!"
Ennis opened the door and found his brother shaving in front of their tiny mirror.
"I just wanted ta let ya know that I'm goin' out tonight. I reckon I'll sleep down in Cheyenne."
Ken del Mar turned to his baby brother and quirked an eyebrow.
"All night?"
"All night. It's a five-hour drive. I might get to drinkin'." Ennis answered honestly.
"Drinkin'? All night?"
"Godamn Ken, I'm 19 fuckin' years old! I can do whatever the hell I feel like!" Ennis exploded, narrowing his eyes and straining to reign in his irksome temper.
"Yeah well I been raisin' you with Cee Cee since you was eleven years old, so don't get snippy with me. You gonna be careful?" He asked, pointing towards his groin.
"YES!" Ennis sighed, convinced his brother would never understand the fact that he just wasn't all that interested in pussy.
"Well, alright. You need some cash?" K.E. asked, turning back to the shaving cream and razor.
"Nah, I'm all set. I've got fifty."
"That's not gonna buy you good pussy." Ken said nonchalantly, wincing when he nicked himself.
"I ain't buyin' pussy. I'm... goin' to a uh... a... club."
"Ya goin' dancin'?"
"Uh... just figured I'd check it out. I don't much like to dance." Ennis' eyes were pinned to the corner of the bathroom ceiling, where a dark spot had formed from years of steam.
"The Catscratch is a nice enough place." K.E. was still concentrating on his shave job, but he was looking at his brother in the mirror, studying his reaction.
"How'd ya know I was goin' there?" Ennis asked.
"Hell, it's the only club around! Wyomin folks got no use fer fancy pants dancin'!" Exclaimed Ken.
"Yeah, I guess. So uh, ya ever been there?"
K.E. just nodded slowly, tight lips turning up in a dimpled smile.
"Had a grand ol' time. Tell Lureen I say howdy. She's the bartender." He winked lasciviously, and Ennis had no doubt his brother had gotten to know this Lureen person pretty well.
"There's a GIRL bartender?" He was shocked.
"Yep. She's mighty feisty." K.E. chuckled, finishing his shave.
"Huh." Ennis was incredulous. The world was gettin' to be a strange place.
"You know what yer gonna wear?" Ken asked, rinsing his razor in the slightly cloudy water.
"What's wrong with this?" Ennis pointed to his black work shirt tucked into stained Levis and dark brown boots.
K.E. just laughed and said, "I'll help ya. Jump on in the shower and meet me in my bedroom in twenty."
Thirty minutes later, Ennis was standing in front of the only large mirror in the house, feeling like a fool.
He was dressed in a starched white button down with a ridiculous collar that folded into two stiff points and stretched down a good five inches from his neck. The top three buttons of the shirt were undone, just to the space between his pale nipples. His shirt was tucked into a pair of very high-wasted black pants that looked like they were painted onto his scrawny frame, but they flared out at the feet, creating a central focus on his groin and ass. His curly hair was hatless, and he was in his trusty 'ol boots which peeked out from underneath the flare of the pants.
"There's no way you ain't gettin' pussy kid."
Ennis shuddered mentally, checked his watch and turned to his brother.
"Yer sure this is how everyone is gonna be dressed?"
"Positive."
Ennis said, "Alright. I gotta fly," And walked out of the room.
-August 17, 1979, 9 o' clock P.M.- parking lot.-
Ennis copped a fleeting look at his face, nervously squared his shoulders and placed his hat on his head. Once out of the car, he realized the ground was vibrating.
The sound coming out of the club was muted, but he could feel every beat of the song as he made his way closer to the club. He pulled open the door and was blasted with a male singer telling him to "shake his booty." There was a man standing there who asked him for ten dollars and he paid it, gaining entry to the club.
There was a large crowd of people on the dance floor, which was elevated from the main floor. The dance floor was made up of some kinda Plexiglas squares that had colored lights underneath them, so it looked like it was changing colors with the music. He could hear nothing over the thrum of the song, but his heart accelerated as he saw the crazy thrusting hips and pointed fingers that beat in time.
He tipped his hat over his eyes and sauntered over to the bar, the vision before him too much to understand.
"SHAKE SHAKE SHAKE!
SHAKE SHAKE SHAKE!
SHAKE YOUR BOOOTTY, SHAKE YOUR BOOOTY!" Blasted through the speakers, vibrating in Ennis' throat it was so intensely loud.
He plopped down on a stool and glanced at the bartender. Sure enough it was a girl, and she was wearing some kinda Lycra jumpsuit in hot pink. It was obscenely low cut, and her luscious breasts were filling it well. She had incredibly bushy and long hair, and she wore it all poofed out, like she stuck her finger in an electrical socket.
"Do I know you?" She purred, sidling up to him and leaning flirtatiously across the bar.
"Uh... don't think so." Ennis shouted, trying to be louder than the music.
"Ya look real familiar is all..." She hollered back, leaning closer to him, so that she was right up in his personal space. Her cherry red lips were inches away from his face and he was scared shitless.
"I think ya know my brother. K.E?" He said quickly, not needing to yell since she was so close.
She broke out into a wide grin and pulled back, winking at him and chuckling, "Oh, I remember him. Nice guy."
"Yeah." Ennis said awkwardly.
Before he could order a whiskey, a sweaty mass slammed into him.
"Sorry, friend!" A husky voice called out.
Ennis stared as this man simply slid over the bar and hit Lureen on the ass.
"Gimme a drink Reenie Might break out the ol' moves if I get liquored up enough." He exclaimed excitedly as she slapped him with a dishtowel and laughed, throwing her head back.
She tossed him a full bottle of whiskey and he watched as the man just grinned at her, wiped a hand across his sweaty brow and chugged a good quarter of the bottle before slamming it down.
"Thanks!" He shouted, and then he looked at Ennis.
Ennis felt himself get hard as he looked at eyes that were like the ocean. The man before him was more muscular than himself, and his outfit left nothing to the imagination. He was in a white shirt unbuttoned all the way to his navel, displaying an impressive chest and jet-black chest hair. The collar of his shirt folded over on top of a tight lavender vest, and he was in white leather pants that seemed to be a second skin. There was a thin gold chain around his neck and he had rolled the sleeves of the shirt up to the elbow so that the starched cuffs came to stiff points just like the enormous ones on the collar of his shirt.
"Sorry 'bout that pal, I was gettin mighty thirsty." He grinned at Ennis and he felt all the air rush out of his chest.
"Uh. Not a problem." Ennis stuttered, feelin' like a buffoon.
"Lemme buy ya some shots, on me. I'll even stay and chit chat a while, I don't gotta be on the floor fer another half hour." The tall dark stranger said, glancing at his watch.
"Uh. Okay."
"Hey Reenie, gimme four shots of tequila and one glass a Old Rose, on the rocks. Don't skimp on the lime and salt." He said, and then he slid over the bar and plopped gracefully onto the stool next to Ennis.
"Jack Twist." He smiled again, and stuck out a masculine hand.
"Ennis."
"Yer folks just stop at Ennis?" Jack was still beaming, and his eyes were twinkling with the lights.
"del Mar." Ennis said, reaching for the hand.
"Nice ta..." Jack stopped when their hands met, and Ennis felt his stomach drop all the way to the floor. He felt dizzy, like he was drunk. His blood was hot as it surged through his veins; it felt like his hand was on fire. He looked at Jack and saw an unmistakable expression in his eyes: lust. Jack was biting his bottom lip, looking at Ennis like he was a piece of meat.
"Ahem, uh... nice ta meet ya." Jack said, pulling his hand away reluctantly, obviously flustered.
"Here ya guys go!" Lureen placed two shots in front of Jack, two shots and a whiskey in front of Ennis, and a bowl of salt with a lime wedge in between them.
"Thanks Reenie!" Jack said, blinking his long, dark lashes at her flirtatiously.
"Save it up for the men boy, you couldn't handle these in a wet dream!" She smirked, grabbing her large tits and swaying her hips.
"Oh fuck you!" Jack called, flipping her off.
Ennis' jaw about hit the floor; he had never seen a girl act that way. Or heard a man talk to a lady like that. And what the hell was Lureen on about savin' it up for the men? Was Jack... gulp... queer? With that thought, Ennis tossed back the whiskey and winced, feeling it burn down his throat.
"WHOO-EEE boy! Yer fixin' ta get drunk!" Jack exclaimed, slapping him on the back.
Ennis simply nodded, eyeing the slightly cloudy shots before him and wondering what tequila tasted like.
Like he was reading his mind, Jack asked, "Ya ever had tequila before?"
"Nope!"
"Here, I'll show ya how it's done." Jack said, and suddenly he grabbed a slice of lime and placed it between Ennis' lips.
"Bite it." He said huskily, and when Ennis' eyes traveled down to his leather-clad lap, he noticed that Jack was hard too.
Ennis pierced the pulpy fruit with his teeth, feeling the vicious flavor flood his mouth.
Jack pulled it out, placed it on the bar and licked the back of his hand. Then he sprinkled some salt on the freshly licked spot and held it up to Ennis' face.
"Lick."
Ennis felt like he was in a trance, because this was mighty queer, but he wanted to lick his hand. So, without thinking, he stretched out his pink tongue and gently lapped at Jack's salty skin. He closed his eyes when his tongue made contact and licked it all up.
Jack shoved a shot at him and said, "Knock it back."
When Ennis tipped the drink back into his mouth, the combination of the salt and lime made the tangy taste of the alcohol come alive. It felt like fire as it slid down his throat.
They each did their remaining shots silently, absorbing the current of sexual tension that was throbbing between them. Jack slammed his second onto the bar, winked at Ennis and said, "I gotta go back to work. Watch and learn Cowboy."
He sashayed back to the dance floor, wiggling his nice butt for Ennis' benefit.
Ennis had a great buzz going, and he figured it didn't hurt to appreciate a fella with a nice figure.
He leaned back on his stool, wondering what Jack's job at the club was.
Lureen leaned over the bar, picked up a microphone and announced, "And now, the Catscratch Club is proud to announce, the 1978 disco champion, our very own "boogie man," dancing to his signature jam…THE TWISTER!"
Ennis' jaw just about hit the floor. The crowd had formed a three-sided square of people on the platform, the open side of the "U" shape facing the bar. Jack was in the middle, taking off his lilac jacket to reveal the plunging V his shirt made before it was tucked into the waistband of his tight pants. The lights in the club were dimmed, and now the only thing illuminating the whole place was the gentle throb of the rainbow lights. Jack shook his hands and his feet, warming himself up for his dance.
Ennis felt like he was at some kind of a strip club, staring at the most beautiful person in the room get ready to shake their glorious ass.
Jack gave a subtle nod to Lureen and she turned the music back on.
The synthesizers began and the lights pulsed like Ennis' heart, watching Jack start to do some small steps and finger jabs. Soon, a woman was singing, but Ennis didn't hear the words at first, he was too busy watching Jack thrust his crotch and point his fingers.
The crowd around him was dancing and swaying with the beat, looking like an orgy of disco enthusiasts under the intense lighting. Jack was staring at him, his cerulean eyes beaming at Ennis like an X-ray, sucking him in like he was a popsicle. Ennis was helpless to stop himself as he reached his hand down to rest on his lap, slowly tracing his fingers across the tip of his leaking dick in time to Jack's thrusts and steps.
Jack looked up at him as he started to take some calculated steps and sway his "groove-thang" towards the ceiling.
Ennis was panting softly now, turned on beyond belief. If Jack didn't stop now, Ennis was gonna come in his pants like a twelve year old. Christ, he had only been up there for about thirty seconds, he was just getting warmed up.
At that thought, Jack grinned at him and began to sing along to the chorus of the song that was making the windows rattle.
"Lookin' for some hot stuff baby this evenin'
I need some hot stuff baby tonight
I want some hot stuff baby this evenin'
Gotta have some hot stuff
Gotta have some love tonight
I need hot stuff
I want some hot stuff
I need some hot stuff!"
There was no way that Ennis could hear Jack sing those words, but he saw his lips move just the same. Jack continued on with his routine while Ennis eye-fucked the shit out of him.
Three minutes later, a sweat-drenched Jack clambered off the dance floor to raucous applause and numerous catcalls. He swaggered back to the bar and plopped next to Ennis.
"Nice moves." He commented, looking at the floor shyly. Jack just smirked and said, "Well you certainly seemed to enjoy them." Ennis felt the heat from his crotch flood to his face and he simply nodded his head once.
"So, cowboy," Jack said, smacking the brim of Ennis' hat, "You gonna get up there and shake yer grove thang or are ya just gonna sit here like a prairie dog that lost his hole?"
"I don't much care fer dancin'."
"Well hell boy, that don't sound like you been doin' much good dancin'!" Jack was laughing and sputtering, clearly feeling the tequila and whiskey.
"I reckon I don't got much occasion ta do shit like that when I got a farm to work." Ennis said gruffly.
Jack sobered up quickly, looked Ennis dead in the eyes and said, "I work a farm too."
Now that he thought about it, Ennis remembered Alma mentioning Jack's commute was mighty long from his place of work.
"Whereabouts?"
"Up in Lightnin' Flat. Borin' as shit up there," Jack replied.
"I work my parent's spread in Riverton with my older brother. Pretty borin' over there too, I reckon." Ennis' mouth quirked up in a half-smile that just about turned Jack's knees to jelly.
"Hell cowboy, it's borin' everywhere in the grand state a Wyomin'!" Jack clapped him on the back, grinning like a fool and pretty darn proud of his clever assessment.
"Well it don't seem too borin' in here," Ennis slurred, feeling mighty fine with all that tequila in him.
Jack looked around like he was just discovering the club, taking it all in with dilated pupils and a slackened jaw.
"Yeah it's not too bad in here. People are interesting, that's fer sure. Sometimes it gets a little old though. Ya can only be around so many drunk people..." Jack tapered off when he saw something over Ennis' shoulder.
"'Scuse me." He mumbled, and then he slid off the stool and lumbered over to a far corner of the club, right next to a shadowy alcove that harbored a drinking fountain.
Ennis was standing like a jockey over a horse's back, crouched up on his stool and peering at Jack and the stranger curiously.
Jack looked concerned and was shaking his head no, but the man ran a large hand down his cheek in an identifiable caress.
While Ennis craned his neck, he saw Jack shake his head "NO" more vehemently, but the man suddenly put his hands on his ass and kissed him. Jack jerked back violently and shouted, "RANDY I MEANT NO!" before he shoved him hard in the chest and turned back to face the bar.
Was Jack gay? Ew, that was too gross to think about. But if Jack was gay, why had Ennis been hard since he first laid eyes on him? Could queers spread their gayness onto other men? Was this Jack's fault or was this all on Ennis' behalf? Besides, Jack didn't seem too into that Randy dude, maybe Randy was gay... Shit now Jack was back at the bar.
"What a douche," Jack muttered, lighting a cigarette.
"Yeah, seemed like he was wantin' somethin' you weren't willin' ta give." Ennis commented casually, hoping Jack would elaborate on the motives of that strange man.
"Hah. Sometimes Randy and me have some good times. But I ain't goin' steady with nobody. Too complicated." Jack looked up at Ennis through blurry eyes, clouded with lust and liquor, steadily smoothing over his lanky form and taking him in.
"Whoa there rodeo, are ya sayin' what I think yer sayin'?" Ennis was startled by Jack's brazen lust, but even more shaken by his dick jumping in his pants.
"What do ya think I'm sayin'?" Jack grinned at him, blinking his eyes in doe-like fashion.
"I think yer sayin' that yer... that yer a... a... fag. You ain't a fag are ya?"
"Why, do ya got a problem with fags? 'Cuz friend, you don't look like ya got a problem." Jack's gaze dropped to Ennis' lap, where his dick was very happy and plump, clearly straining the front of his tight new pants.
"Fuck this shit! Yer disgustin!" Ennis shouted, his heart beating in tandem to the Marvin Gaye song blasting through the place, jumping up from his stool and gaping at Jack.
Jack jumped up too, grabbed a fistful of Ennis' shirt and got right up in his face. "Am I? Am I really? What does he have to say about all this? Huh?" Jack grabbed Ennis' groin, palming him gently and puffing his alcohol-laden breath upon his lips.
Ennis couldn't help the moan that ripped through him, it seemed to have been dislodged from somewhere deep inside his chest.
Jack whispered, "That's right cowboy. Bein' a "fag" feels mighty fine, don't it?"
Ennis was frozen, trapped, contained, confined, stuck, hung desperately between the gyrating crowd and the glorious boy in front of him. Frozen to the sticky teal carpet that lined the bar, trapped in his life, contained in simplicity, confined to heterosexuality, and stuck to his idea of happiness, because right now, Jack was his happiness. For the first time in his life, Ennis felt alive. With every agonizing second of silence, every pregnant moment of insecurity, he heard his blood rushing in his ears. He felt the expansion of his diaphragm, bringing life to his lungs, oxygen to his blood, bringing... joy. It was in this moment, with a stranger's hand on his cock, a head full of booze and a heart full of insecurity that he let go. The tension snapped like a rubber band stretched over the back of a chair, and he grabbed Jack's beautiful head and kissed the ever-loving shit out of him.
When their tongues met for the first time, it reminded him of sipping coffee that was too hot. The adrenalin rush seemed to pool at the back of his throat, he felt the heat flush through him and all he could hear was the bass of his heartbeat. Jack was slippery in his mouth, probing and licking, forcing himself inside of Ennis. Their tongues were dancing, rubbing, grinding, singing to the beat. The figurative floodgates had been opened, and just a little bit of Jack was not going to dam the water. Ennis needed it all.
For several moments, both of the men clung to each other with child-like necessity. There was something organic and naive about their chemistry, something... pure. They could feel the current running between them, channeling something primitive and electric- something both old and new. It felt like they knew every curve of the other's body, but at the same time, everything was undiscovered and full of potential.
Jack pulled back and blinked his eyes like he just came out of a salty lake.
"Wow," he breathed.
"Wow," Ennis breathed back.
"EEEP!"
Both men turned to the source of the shriek, and found Lureen standing behind the bar, dishtowel forgotten, grinning like a fool and blushing like a whore in church.
"Shut up Lureen. Ain't nothin' to gawk at over here," Jack groaned, clearly embarrassed by his friend.
"Don't you tell me ta shut up, mister! I told you, the quiet ones are always worth the while. 'Stop foolin' around with them sissies and get yerself a man', I said. But did ya listen? Hell, no! 'Jack Twist: worst advice-taker in all a Wyomin'!'" She exclaimed, clearly picking her jaw up from where it had been resting on the countertop.
"She's a feisty lil' gal. I wouldn't argue," Ennis cut in when Jack opened his mouth to smart off again.
Lureen gave him an appraising look, winked and said," See he's a smart one too. I like this one."
"Ugh, c'mon cowboy, let's dance."
"Jack, I was serious when I told you that I didn't dance," Ennis said, growing nervous.
"Everyone dances. I can teach ya!" Jack was now pulling Ennis into the crowd, or rather, leading him to his execution, the way he was carrying on.
"What if people see us?" Ennis whispered, suddenly right behind him. Jack felt his toes curl and goose bumps prickle his neck. Tonight was going to be a great night.
"Ennis, we were just kissin' like godamn Frenchies fer about five minutes. I'm sure somebody saw us."
At Ennis' terrified look, Jack quickly amended for his harsh words by saying, "'Sides, there's a code here. What happens at the Catscratch stays at the Catscratch. Do ya think anyone around here gives a shit about us? They're all lost in the vibe, man."
The blonde cowboy looked around, saw a crowd of people caught up in the hustle and bustle of the Bee Gees and the strobes and the sweat and the booze and the pot and the hormones... Jack was right; nobody gave a shit about anything more than their own adrenaline rush.
"I guess..." He acquiesced, still not thrilled with this new development.
"Alright. So, put yer hand right here," Jack half-shouted over the music, raising Ennis' clammy palm to his chest. Ennis was somewhat shocked when his hand met bare skin, but then he remembered the deep V of Jack's shirt and the smattering of visible chest hair.
"Feel that?" Jack asked.
"Mhm."
"WHAT? SPEAK UP! CAIN'T HEAR YA!" He shouted, clearly not getting that volume wasn't Ennis' forte.
"Yep," Ennis said, a little louder that time.
"What do ya feel Ennis?"
"Uh... I feel yer... uh... chest."
"Obviously," Jack smirked. "But what else?"
Ennis kept his hand there, looking at the floor, and waited. Suddenly, he felt something. A thud. A vibration. Again. And again. And again.
"...The drums... I can feel 'em in you!"
Jack grinned and then placed his palms on Ennis' narrow hips.
"That's called the bass. The music in here is so loud that the vibrations can be felt internally. If you concentrate, ya can probably feel it. Like in the back of yer throat?"
Ennis concentrated, tried to keep the room from spinning. He succeeded, and sure as shit, there was a funny little tickle back there. He grinned and looked sheepishly up at Jack. The Twister was staring at Ennis like he was the Pieta, or the rain during a dry summer. Like Ennis mattered. Like he was special. Ennis found that he really liked the feeling that gave him.
"Yeah. Feels kinda funny," Ennis muttered, knew that Jack couldn't hear him over the roar of the crowd. Apparently Jack was some kinda lip reader because he just leaned closer and said, "Ok. I want you to feel that and start to move your hips with my hands. Mkay?"
"Uhuh."
Jack's palms were warm and firm, stabilizing Ennis' core and swaying him rhythmically to the slower song that was playing.
"Good."
"Well I oughta be, since yer doin' all the work!" Ennis exclaimed, feeling ashamed that he couldn't even do this simple thing successfully.
"Shush. You got good rhythm. Okay, see how all the guys are kinda swinging their asses around? Movin' their feet and their hands?"
"Jack, if ya think I'm gonna be dancin' like one of those men, ya got another thing comin'."
Jack just kept right on givin' him that look, started moving his own hips to the music.
Pretty soon Ennis was lost in the music, and his hands were on Jack's hips, their groins separated by about three inches of colorful space. They were moving in tandem, shaking their groove thang's and rolling their shoulders. Ennis was carried upon the waves, floating endlessly on the pounding notes. All he saw was Jack, sweating and smiling, singing and shouting, swaying and swinging... Jack was swimming before him, bathed in a rainbow of lights. Ennis guessed that this was what LSD must feel like. He felt like he was another person.
"SHIT! I LOVE THIS SONG!" Jack shouted, shoving Ennis back a little so he could really groove to the opening synthesizers.
Ennis stared with wide eyes, subconsciously rocking his hips and snapping his fingers.
Jack had claimed the floor again, and he was really getting into it. He was twisting and gyrating, head thrown back in reckless abandon as Donna Summer belted out, "I feel love, I feel love, I feel love."
Suddenly, his head snapped to attention and he looked into Ennis' eyes, pulled him close again, and they ground against each other like nobody was watching. The strobes and the drums were in sync and it felt like they were going to explode into thousands of pieces of tiny glitter, peppering the floor with their lust.
When the song was over and Ennis didn't even know his own name, Jack leaned over to him and licked his ear.
"Wanna go ta my place, cowboy? I got records over there too," He whispered seductively, tickling the shell of Ennis' ear with his hot breath.
"Yeah, I could definitely use a bath though. I probably smell like a cattle ranch in July," Ennis murmured back, still horny and hard as a rock.
"Well, that could certainly be arranged. My "shift" ended a half-hour ago. Reenie said she'd punch me out." Jack was now leading him back through the crowd, toward the heavy door that lead back into the real world.
"Jack... wait!" Ennis grabbed his elbow before he could put his hand on the knob. Jack spun like a top, still a little tipsy and very hot from the dancing.
"Jesus Mary and Jose- mhm!" Ennis shut up Jack's exclamation with his mouth, desperately and fervently kissing him. He threw Jack up against the wall of the little alcove where he had observed Randy hitting on him, and with that memory, the kiss grew even more violent. Fighting for control, Jack flipped them so that Ennis was pinned, and Jack's hands were bookending his face, curling in his unruly hair.
Ennis was hunching on Jack's available thigh, desperately groaning into Jack's mouth, covered in Jack. Smothering in Jack.
-Later that very night, Jack's apartment- 1:00 AM.-
Ennis was sitting on a mattress in a one-room apartment on the slummier side of Casper. The whole place was no bigger than his own living room, and the attached bathroom was a joke. There was a toilet jammed next to a standing shower stall, a cracked hand mirror hung from a hook, and a yellowing sink beneath.
The "walls" were simply cracked concrete, the "floor" was also concrete, and the ceiling seemed to be about two feet too short. All in all, he felt cramped. Jack was in the "kitchen" getting coffee, which meant he was technically about three feet away but still in another room.
"So cowboy, I don't have a bath, but I do have a shower. I seem ta remember you askin' fer a scrubbin'," Jack said, smiling playfully and bringing two steaming mugs over to the bed.
"I do smell, if'n you wouldn't mind. I'll be quick and then I'll be outta yer way."
"Whoa whoa whoa there! Don't cha wanna spend the night?" Jack asked, setting down his coffee and grabbing Ennis' hand.
"Well… uh… I dunno."
"Ya don't gotta be scared Ennis. It's alright," Jack breathed, and he had somehow managed to finagle his body behind Ennis, wrapping him up like a cocoon.
"I… I… I'm not."
"Mmm, you smell good. I don't want ya ta shower just yet." Jack's hand was rubbing soothing circles on his chest while he said this, and his arousal was noodling Ennis' backside.
"You do want this? Are ya sure?" Jack asked, starting to work on the buttons of Ennis' shirt, coffee be damned.
"Mmm. Yeah," Ennis sighed, leaning his head into the crease of Jack's neck and setting his coffee down too.
Ennis didn't know what was happening, didn't know where it was going.
"Do you think we're goin' too fast?" Jack whispered in his ear, before running his tongue around the little creases on the interior of it.
"Fast or slow, I just like the direction yer goin' bud." Ennis mumbled, leaning farther back and trying to steal a kiss from those full lips.
Jack snickered, and then dove into Ennis' mouth, only surfacing for air.
Several moments later, both were naked, sweaty and terrified.
"Jack?"
"Huh?"
"I'm… nerv-mphm."
Jack cut off Ennis' sentence with another kiss, and then all of a sudden Ennis was on top of him and Jack was writhing and moaning and Ennis was rubbing his dick in the cleft of his asscheeks and he really wanted to get in there and oh god they were so sweaty and hot and Jack was moaning so loud and sweet jesus is this what all sex felt like and oh my god-
"DON'T COME!" Jack shouted, clamping his fist around the base of Ennis' dick just as he was cresting the wave.
"ARGH!" Ennis groaned, before he collapsed onto Jack and felt a few tears slip out. They were happy tears, but they were tears nonetheless. Men didn't cry. Ennis didn't cry. He quickly went to wipe them on a corner of Jack's creamy sheets when Jack cupped the back of his head with a hand.
"It's alright Ennis. S'alright."
"I'm sorry." He whispered, his lips barely even moving and his cheeks burning in shame.
"S'alright. I gotta ask ya somethin' just so's I know where ta go from here."
Ennis mumbled something unintelligible into Jack's shoulder and then gave it a little kiss, which Jack took as an affirmative answer.
"Okay. Uh… are you a virgin?"
Jack felt Ennis' whole body tense up like an armadillo rolling into a ball, and then Ennis was jerking around and thrashing to get out of his embrace. Whatever kind of trance he had been in had long since passed.
"What the hell kinda question is that, Jack?"
"It's just so I can explain it to ya. Honest. I don't give a damn if you are, I just gotta know. It'll be better if I can show ya the ropes. I just want us to have a good time."
Ennis stared at him, mouth open, eyes unwavering, face exposed- an almost infantile expression. Then, he calmly rose from their embrace and stood in the soft light of a nearby lamp.
"This was a mistake. I'll be goin'." Ennis grumbled, yanking his jeans on.
Jack sat up, put his frustrated face in his hands, rested his elbows on his knees and sighed.
"FUCK! Don't just walk away! Don't lie to me! I know that you had the time of yer life today! I could see it in yer eyes! Why do ya think I work at that place, huh? 'Cuz I'd die if I was stuck on my daddy's ranch, that's why! That old son of a bitch never gave a damn about me. If it weren't fer my poor mama, I'd be outta that place faster than a bat outta hell! But no, I got this little shithole apartment fer the weekends, my job at the club, and I got people like you, people who make me smile, to keep me goin'. Everyone has skeletons rattlin' around in their closests, I know how shitty ranch life is. I know yer prob'ly as miserable as I am. So don't just throw this away! I'M SORRY!"
Ennis whirled away from the door and stomped the four feet back over to the dingy mattress where Jack was sitting and pointed an accusatory finger in his face.
"'People like me?' Huh Jack? What kinda people? Nice fellas who come lookin' fer a pretty gal and end up walkin' out with you? Hell, I bet you even do it to girls too, that's how disgustin' you are. You kissed my friend Alma! I know ya did, so don't try an' spin more lies in yer web. I see through you, boy, and you ain't nothin' but a fag. You don't know nothin' 'bout my life, so don't even pretend ya know how hard it is! At least you have a momma and a daddy, I got nobody but my brother! I got nobody to love me!"
He was on the verge of bawling, and once Jack saw the pain in Ennis' eyes, his anger evaporated like dew in August.
"Oh Ennis," He said, reaching a tender hand out to cup his cheek.
"I just can't stand this anymore Jack. Can't stand the pain." And with that, Ennis crumpled to the floor, half-naked and sobbing, and was met with an embrace.
For the first time in his nineteen years, Ennis' sensitivity was not met with a belt. It was met with love.
After a few moments, which were filled with salt, snot and sobs, both of the boys had composed themselves.
"How 'bout that shower?' Jack asked as he rose from the bed, yanking Ennis up from his spot on the floor.
"Might be nice," Ennis muttered, which Jack took as a "yes."
The shower water was slightly cloudy, and the shower head was making a concerning banging noise, but the water was hot and there was a beautiful man washing his hair, so Ennis wasn't gonna complain.
Memories of his Mama, with her sad cow eyes and her frizzy blonde hair danced before his eyes. He remembered how she would fill the kitchen sink with warm water, a little baby oil and a tiny bit of milk to keep his skin soft. He remembered the smell of clean linens, freshly hung and dried, the smell of the dishrags she would use to dry him. She would hum church hymns while she bathed him, giggling and smiling like he was her whole world.
Now, he had somebody looking at him like that, but it sure weren't his mama. No siree, it was the disco king of Wyomin'. Life leads us to funny places.
After their mostly platonic shower, (there was a moment when Ennis discovered the joy of sucking on Jack's nipples, and who was Jack to stop him?) the damp boys smelled of soap and shaving cream and cleanliness. Both were exhausted, and both felt as though it was more of a baptism and less of a shower. Instead of experimenting with their "groove-thang's" anymore, they agreed that a good night's sleep was the best option.
When Jack awoke to the warmth of the sun, it was to a cold bed. There was a ghostly imprint of his lover's head on the pillow beside him, but that was all the evidence that was left of Mr. Ennis del Mar.
September 20th, 1979
The music in the club was roaring, but it wasn't like Jack had anything more important to hear. He was on bar duty tonight, since Lureen was out of town with her new boyfriend. He was some guy she met back home the week before, when she was competing at the Texas rodeo. She said he was a real smooth talker and that her daddy really liked him. Good for her. At least somebody's happy.
For the last month, Jack Twist was on a bender. He drank like a fish, even back at the ranch, smoked a whole lotta pot and even tried some cocaine in the men's room off a toilet seat. For whatever reason, he couldn't get Ennis fuckin' del Mar out of his head. And they didn't even fuck.
The bar was pretty crowded that night, the bar was packed and the liquor was flowing. He was feeling pretty relaxed, had a nice buzz going from a joint he bummed off of some chick, was probably gonna accept Randy's offer of companionship tonight if he asked, he had to get over Ennis.
Suddenly, this guy in a cowboy hat leaned across the bar and asked for a shot of tequila. Jack looked up from where he was pouring the shot and straight into the heart-melting eyes of none other than Mr. del Mar.
"Hi, Jack."
"Is that all you have to say ta me? Thought I was too queer fer ya. Wouldn't wanna contaminate yer drink here with my gayness." He hissed, fury replacing his heartache in a matter of seconds.
"Listen Jack, I was an ass. Lemme make it up to ya. What time do ya get off?" Ennis asked, a smile flickering around his tight lips.
"Why should I tell you?"
"Because I wanna apologize, and I don't wanna have to shout over 200 people, so if ya could just meet me in my truck whenever ya get off, I would appreciate it."
"Fine. Long as this ain't a trick… I get off at two."
"It ain't, and thank ya kindly. See ya then." And with that, Ennis tossed the shot back, grinned a soul-snatching grin, slammed three dollars on the bar and sauntered out of the place.
At 2:05 a.m., Jack anxiously walked up to the rust-colored pickup that harbored a sleeping cowboy. The passenger door was unlocked, so he simply hopped in and tapped Ennis on the shoulder.
Ennis awoke with a jolt, and then straightened up and put his hat over his eyes.
"Hey there bud." He mumbled, shy eyes trained on the steering wheel.
"Hey yerself." Jack replied, getting fed up with all of this beating around the bush.
"So, why did you leave?" He asked, fighting to stop his voice from wavering. He had to be harsh, or he was gonna end up taking the son of a bitch back.
"I was scared."
"No shit, Sherlock. That ain't good enough." Jack was getting flustered, and if Ennis wasn't going to do some serious soul-searching, he was done.
"Uh… just gimme a minute. I ain't used ta talkin' bout myself."
"You had four hours of sittin' in this here car to think long and hard about what ya wanted ta say to me. If you don't know now, I ain't sure you ever will know." Jack started to open his door, but was cut off.
"GODAMMIT JACK! I'm over here trnay get the words past my lips and yer there just hopin' I loose the battle. What I meant ta say was- I left because I figured out I was gay. Happy now?"
"Did you really?" Jack asked, quirking an eyebrow in disbelief.
"Did I really what?" Ennis sputtered, clearly lost in his emotions.
"Did you really figure out yer gay, or are ya just sayin' that to me so ya can get in my pants? Ya gonna leave again? Cuz I don't do closet cases, I ain' t lookin' fer casual sex with you. If we're gonna do this, it's all the way."
The wind rattled the truck, whistling and moaning on its lonesome journey to nowhere. The melancholy sound was all Ennis could hear.
"Jack, if I feel the way I do about you, I figure that makes me queer. I don't like no other men, but I don't like no other women neither. I just like you. Why label it? I want whatever yer willin' ta give, and if ya want a… a… a… relationship… well," he gulped, "I'm willin' to try."
"Why? Why now?" Jack asked, hopelessly confused and conflicted. He had just gotten over Ennis. He didn't need him. He didn't want him. Right?
"Because… because… I feel real strong on you. And I didn't know that until I really thought about it. Thought about you, I mean."
"If I give you a second chance, do you promise not to fuck it up. Ta just talk to me if yer feelin' fucked up inside?"
"Jack, I swear…"