Impulse (by morrobay1990)
Hoof beats.
Canter.
Trot.
Walk.
Bridle rattling.
Boots on hard earth.
Tent flap open, smell of sweet air, dawn air.
Ennis behind him, pushing against him...hands everywhere...zippers down, jeans down.
He fought the impulse to turn, pull him into his arms, kiss him. He thought about it all the time...he fought the impulse.
It felt good, right? Front to back...back to front...it always felt good.
Would it really be any better if they were face to face? If they were looking at each other as they fucked? Would it even make a difference?
Always felt good.
He fought the impulse.
...
Earlier in "The Sun"
"…And when he was finally home and looked at Jack's eyes, so close up beneath him, he gasped… holy fuckin' shit!.. and closed his eyes…"
'Cause how the fuck you supposed ta keep your eyes open gazing straight inta the sun?.."
Burnt By The Sun
He'd been thinking on it the whole day.
It had started off as an impulse sometime a week ago, but somehow in the last few days he hadn't been able to shake the thought off his mind no more. So, now he wanted it so bad he'd start shaking every fucking time he was around Ennis.
Like now, as he hurried past his friend heading towards the river to chill the fuck off already. Ennis's unusually early return to the camp had caught him off guard and he hadn't been able to focus on anything since. Jesus fucking Christ, he should quit thinking on it or he'd go crazy and do something stupid. Like brushing so close past his friend that he got himself a nose-full of the heady smell of musky sweat and cigarettes and horses and sheep and high meadow grasses and sun that was all Ennis. Thing was he didn't have to walk past him or nothin'. He just couldn't fight the urge that seared through his body, breaking sweat. Shit, must be the sun or sumthin'. Been mighty warm and sunny lately…
What happened next tipped him off balance completely and sent him into a free fall.
Ennis caught him by his belt, pulled him into his arms, held him, back to front, rocked him a little. Like he was trying to soothe him into fucking. As if he needed to… But then, when he dropped on this hands and knees, high from the feel of soft afternoon sun and callused hands of his bare ass and thighs, Ennis flipped him, rolled him onto his back, pushed his own jeans down and threw himself on top of him.
For a moment his mind went blank.
When it started functioning again, so far behind all his other senses, his first thought was that he had to look at Ennis. 'Cause what he'd thought as good afore now seemed like… like a camp fire to the sun. He hoped Ennis felt it too, it was so fuckin' good. Good, huh? Fuck the word!.. But he couldn't think of another just now, as his whole being filled up with joy and Ennis and something else he didn't have a word for neither.
So, he opened his eyes to look at his friend and… sucked in his breath… Sweet fucking Jesus!..
Ennis was looking straight in his eyes, his own dark and molten, startled, blond ruffled hair catching fire from the huge gleaming copper and gold disk behind him, skin aglow, lips parted like he was trying to catch his breath but couldn't.
He reached a hand, touched the fire in Ennis's hair and exploded in thousands brilliant little suns… and closed his eyes…
…And as he was falling into a minute bliss, basking in the warmth of the arms and body surrounding him and the late afternoon sun he was getting helplessly used to, his last thought was that he hoped he wouldn't get burnt by it... by the sun.