Saturdays (by morrobay1990)

Jack loved Saturdays.

Supplies brought in the day before, plenty of cigarettes and full bottles of whiskey...life was good.

And as they were sitting outside the tent on this Saturday night, Jack could swear Ennis was trying to tease him into fucking...stretched out by the fire, no shirt, jeans open, those long legs going on forever...and he figured that if he looked at Ennis just right, those jeans might come off...so, reaching for his belt, he stared at Ennis, dragging his eyes over him top to bottom...and sure enough...he left those jeans in the dust and fell into Jack's arms.


For A Long Time After Saturdays

Ennis looked forward to Saturdays.

Supplies woulda been delivered the day before, so there'd be whiskey and cigarettes and food aplenty. All the little things that made Jack happy. This time there were even a few cans of soup he'd ordered last week, 'cause the little shithead had complained he was tired a beans. Ennis didn't care one way or the other, could go on beans for long as needed. But Jack… Well, t'was no trouble at all if soup kept Jack happy.

Truth was when he was happy sometimes Ennis would catch the glimpse of that look on Jack's face again, the one that made his knees weak. He didn't know what it meant but it scared the shit outta him, thought it made him weak. Like that first time he'd seen it on Jack's face, on the second night he had… stayed in the tent with Jack. That time he'd been so… so overcome by that look that all he'd managed to do was close his eyes and let Jack hold him…

Okay, could just fuckin' admit it: so he wanted to see it again. Wanted to close his eyes and… just stay in Jack's arms for a moment. Even if it made him feel weak in his gut. Shit, nobody had to know, right ? And Jack, surely he wouldn't mind holding him … for just a minute. 'Cause after that he'd give Jack what he knew Jack wanted – fuck him face to face, by the campfire, under the fuckin' moon. No hardship, sir, not at all!

So, on this Saturday night, when they were done with their dinner, he took his shirt off, left his jeans half opened and stretched out in front of the fire. Waiting for his friend to pick up on the clue, furtively watching him from under his lashes. Sure 'nough, Jack did. Looked at Ennis with that hungry stare a his, 'cause the little shit was always hungry, for one thing or another, then he slowly undid his belt…

And when he lost his jeans and fell into Jack's arms, holding his breath, steeling himself for that look and what it did to him, always, it was there for Ennis alright, pouring freely from Jack's eyes, flooding him over … So, he closed his eyes and tried to memorize that strange feeling inside a him, terrifying as hell and so fuckin' addictive. All he needed was just a tiny li'l minute…

'Cause when you got nothin', you learn to make even a minute last for a long time…