Jack blinked himself awake, squinting against the blinding sunlight. He put his left hand to his aching head and rested it back against whatever the hell was to his right. He moved slightly into a more comfortable position, tilting his hat down and shifting closer to the warm entity that was resting on his right shoulder.

He breathed in a strong smell of cowhide and sawdust mixed with sweet grass and… whiskey? Fear suddenly wracked his fuzzy brain, wasn't that boy Ennis in his truck…? To his... His eyes flung open and He pushed his hat back as he scrambled away towards the left side of the truck, letting the other man slump down onto the seat.

"Shit!" Jack cursed, straightening his coat and looking at the empty whiskey bottle on the floor. He looked over at the slowly awakening Ennis.

"What the hell're you doin' all over me, boy?!" He asked more shock and confusion in his voice than anger. He pressed another hand against his head trying to remember what happened last night. He vaguely recalled his lighter running out, reaching for a new one and accidentally touching Ennis' leg. Even hazier, he remembered Ennis leaning over, brushing his lips against his own, and… Then Jack had… Helped him? Did he dream all this?! He sure as hell wasn't about to ask point blank. He looked over at Ennis, wearily.

"I-… Did we-…" he thought how to phrase this as delicately as possible, "We didn't… well… you know, we didn't… kiss did we?" Jack whispered the last three words so softly, he wasn't sure the newly awoken Ennis had heard him.

"I mean… I don't… rightly remember all that well…" Jack frowned to himself, glancing again over at Ennis, then back to the floorboard. He heard a truck pulling up to the parking lot, the gravel rattling beneath it. He looked over to Ennis again.

"Let's just… forget about this. All right, Cowboy?" Jack offered another comforting, friendly smile and elbowed Ennis gently in the rib cage saying, "Gotta wake up now, either way. Looks like the truck is here." Jack stepped out of his own truck, breathing in the sweet Wyoming air, and tried to push some rather uncomfortable feelings out of his body and mind. Once Ennis was out of his truck, he grabbed his stuff up and locked the old thing up nice and tight.

"You two ready to go?" the truck driver asked them, not getting out of his truck. Jack nodded and jumped into the back of the truck settling into the corner of its bed and lighting a cigarette.

"C'mon, cowboy. We ain't got time to waste." He grinned once more, bearing all his shiny, white teeth and tapping the ashes into the parking lot.

_____

Ennis woke up the following morning when the warm object his head was resting on suddenly moved. His eyes shot open, and he squinted into the sunlight, shaking his head, trying to understand the frantic male shouting that was being apparently directed at him. "What?! What?" he exclaimed, shutting his eyes against the morning sun and putting his head in his hands. It hurt like the devil, and his tongue was thick and fuzzy. "What?" he asked again, scrubbing at his face with his bare hands. He sniffed, running the sleeve of his jacket across his mouth and nose, and coughed. "Mm," he groaned. "It's mornin'."

He rubbed one eye with the palm of his hand, when he suddenly looked over and saw Jack. Apparently it had been he who had been doing the frantic shouting, and he was now forming legible sentences, and making seemingly bizarre inquiries of Ennis. The specific question took Ennis by surprise. What was he doing all over Jack? He pulled his hand away from his face, frowning deeply in confusion. "I…" he started, then stopped, looking away, his dark eyes widening. "Oh, fuck," he mumbled, his eyebrows locking.

His face jerked back to look at Jack, eyes wide like a frantic, sceptical deer caught in the headlights of a truck. He listened to Jack's hesitant, whispered question with growing panic. If Jack remembered the same vague details he did… then the strange images running through his aching head were not just the remnants of some twisted dream. His jaw slackened and he mouthed wordlessly for a moment before closing his mouth, locking his jaw, swallowing, and vehemently shaking his head. "No," he said, firmer than he had spoken ever before. "No, I… I jus'…"

He looked away, thinking frantically, rubbing his hands uncomfortably up and down the thighs of his jeans. "I… move," he finally said, jerkily. "In m' sleep." He cleared his throat, nodding to himself, then looked over at Jack, his face set and determined. "Fact," he said assertively. Then he looked away again, exhaling awkwardly.

The sound of the truck's wheels over the gravel suddenly demanded his whole and rapt attention. "Sure, sure," he agreed with Jack, not looking at him. "We'll jus'… Never happened." He shook his head, then nodded towards the truck. "Truck's here," he said determinedly. "We should…" He paused, glancing fleetingly over at Jack, and, seeing that he was already getting out of the truck, so Ennis took the initiative to do the same.

Ennis felt his boots crunching down on the gravel, and he took a moment to steady himself, taking a deep breath of Wyoming air and calming his nerves, exhaling deeply and trying to shake out the still-awkward feeling of the uncomfortable moment in the truck with Jack, and, clearing his throat and shaking his head out like a dog trying to clear water from its fur, he made his way to the truck. He paused, considering his options, seeing Jack in the back of the truck, and took a step to go around the truck to sit in the passenger's seat, but then reconsidered, thinking about what kind of inescapable awkwardness would occur if the truck driver decided it would be a good idea to interrogate Ennis about the details of his and Jack's summer work.

Since Ennis did not particularly feel like talking, not to the truck driver or anyone else, he turned his eyes away from Jack and hopped up into the bed of the truck as well, leaning back against the side as far away from the other cowboy as he could manage and, resting his tan hands on his knees, he looked out of the truck, sighed, and clenched his jaw shut.

_____

Jack avoided looking at Ennis, he was perfectly content to sit on his side of the truck and smoke his Marlboros; but something in the back of his head kept nagging him to turn and steal just one glance at Ennis.

"Well, say goodbye to the civilized world." Jack joked, playfully, grinning at Ennis. He fell silent and turned his head to look over the plains towards the mountains. He carefully traced the path up to it, a good hour and a half drive, if not more. Jack thoughtfully took a long drag on his cigarette, flicking the ashes off with his thumb and exhaling slowly, letting the tendrils of thick smoke lazily curl up the side of his face. He pulled off his hat to keep it from flying off his head and fiddled with it in one hand, finishing off his cigarette with the other. He flicked it out onto the side of the road as the truck driver finally pulled out of the parking lot, only after chatting briefly with Aguirre.

"The jump off on Brokeback, right?" He had asked, spitting a bit of chew out onto the gravel.

"That's the one. Make sure them boys arrive there quick. I gotta get them damned sheep up there before tonight." Aguirre said glaring a bit at the two awkward boys in the truck.

Jack sighed heavily and closed his eyes, the wind flipping his hair all around his face. Sleep washed over him again, the first round having been cut off abrupt and early. His features fell into a calm contemplative look as his eyes glazed over and his head dropped back against the truck's rear-view windshield; his face on display in the early morning sun.

Francine giggled, handing Jack a tall glass of icy lemonade and averting her eyes from his toned, shirtless chest. She looked at the shed he had been building and nodded eagerly in approval. She twirled a ribbon on her dress between two fingers and stared at the ground. Jack faced away from her, hands on the waist of his jeans, and admired his handiwork, his eyes squinting in a huge smile. He felt soft fingers brushing down his ribs to rest on the tops of his hands. He looked over his shoulder in surprise, his shoulders pulling back as his back muscles contracted from the touch. He slowly turned around to see Francine tossing him a sultry smile. She slid her arms around his shoulders and kissed him softly. Jack let her kiss him, placing his hands on the small of her back, eager for any contact of this sort. He slowly closed his eyes, moving his hands to her oddly bony hips, much less curvy and much more toned than expected for a plump country girl. She gripped his head forcefully, pulling his head back and kissing him as if she were the same height as him. The passionate, and distinctly rough, kissing slowed from the heated crescendo and Jack's eyes flitted open, resting not on the smooth rounded face of Francine, but on…

A deep pot-hole caused Jack to slam his head into the metal side of the truck, waking him up with a sharp pain in his head. Jack winced, pulling himself into an up-right sitting position and muttered a soft curse. He vaguely remembered a good dream, but couldn't recall what was happening in it. He rubbed his face for a moment, glancing over at Ennis with a mixed look of pain, annoyance, and confusion and banged on the side of the truck.

"We stoppin' anytime soon?!" Jack yelled through the opened window.

"We're about twenty ta thirty minutes ta Brokeback." The driver yelled back, not looking away from the road. Jack spied a filling station.

"Well, can ya pull over?! I gotta piss like a race horse!" Jack could barely hear what the driver mumbled to himself over the wind, but he did see a bored shrug. Jack felt a quickly growing resentment and irritation at the man's lack of consideration for anyone but himself.

The driver must have felt Jack's anger at his impassive shrug, because he heaved a sigh of aggravation and pulled into the station. Jack hopped out of the truck and walked in and to the restroom. The door hit the wall behind it as he shoved it open and it closed slowly, leaving Jack in a dimly lit public restroom. He went directly to the urinal and relieved himself, glaring at the empty space in front of him. He finished with a zip and sauntered over to the sink; he washed his hands and splashed his face with cool water from the tap. He turned his death glare at the mirror.

'What the fuck are you thinkin', Jack fuckin' Twist?!' He chided himself, cracking his neck and replacing his hat. He stepped out the door and lit a cigarette, exhaling vehemently. He moseyed back over towards the truck, avoiding any eye contact with Ennis. He hopped back into the truck, waiting in awkward silence for the driver to come back outside. He suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to apologize to Ennis.

'What the hell, I cain't control what I dream…' Jack told himself, forcing his mouth to stay shut.

The driver came out of the store waving goodbye to a friend inside; he carried with him a bottle of whiskey, making Jack smirk in fond reminiscence. Finally, when the truck was moving again, Jack chanced a glance at Ennis, quickly looking away afterwards. The driver turned onto a dirt road near the bottom of the mountain, "The jump-off is just up here. They'll give you horses and dogs and all that shit. You'll get the sheep too. Then you'll take off. Got it? Don't ya'll fuck it up."

Jack climbed out of the back and adjusted his hat looking over the horses they had to pick from. He picked a soft tan one named Foxglove and went to look over the dogs. A small smile crept up the corners of his mouth as he noticed a few small pups with the rest of the larger dogs. He picked up a particularly bluish-black one and stuck it in his inside coat pocket, smirking at the soft wiggling near his side.

He watched Ennis as he expertly chose the best horses for himself and back-up; a warm sensation came to Jack's stomach as Ennis inspected and examined. Jack turned away embarrassedly, mounting the tan mare and shifting his weight around as she shook and bucked softly. He noted she was rather skittish and continued to get used to the way she rode.

The man who dropped off the herd pointed out the blue 'A' paint brands on Aguirre's sheep and told Jack the count was one thousand sheep even. Jack half listened, his thoughts elsewhere, his mouth clamped tightly shut. He kept his eyes locked to the ground, not trusting them to wander about as they please; they could get him in a lot of trouble.

As soon as Ennis was ready with the pack-mules and the rest of the horses, they rounded the sheep up and headed for the mountain. Jack picked up a sickly lamb that had been dragging behind and set it on his horse in front of him to join his growing menagerie. He turned to Ennis once the last sounds of civilization died down.

"Quiet up here, ain't it?" he attempted at some poor small talk, trying to ease any tension Ennis might be feeling towards him. He, almost instinctively, reached for his cigarettes; then, thinking better of it, he let his hand pat the mare on the neck. The horse softly whinnied and tossed her mane. A quick, furtive glance at Ennis and he was awkwardly trying for conversation again.

"I always did like the mountains, my daddy used ta take us up here once or twice a year. We'd have a great time, then ease back into our boring daily lives. It was like some kinda breath a fresh air. Specially since we travelled for rodeo a lot. One thing that never seemed ta change was the mountain." Jack started off into space for a moment, wetting his lips slowly, "Friends would change, town would change, but never these mountains." Jack shook his head and leaned back a little bit glancing over his shoulder at the dogs.

"Sorry," Jack said softly, sneaking a glimpse at Ennis and nervously smiling, "I talk too much…" He looked up at the colourful morning sky, pondering the beautifully soft oranges and pinks.

_____

Ennis watched as the truck driver paused to chat with Aguirre, sighing, not really paying attention to what either man was saying. His focus was more on not looking at Jack, and wishing mightily that they could get to the mountain already, so that he did not have to endure this painful awkwardness. He inhaled through his teeth, looking outside of the truck, back at Aguirre's trailer, anywhere but at Jack. Finally, the truck driver started off, and Ennis exhaled in relief that they were finally starting off.

Ennis sat quietly on his side of the truck, every so often picking at his nails, and removed his hat, holding it to his chest so it would not fly away. From time to time his eyes would flick to Jack, then, just as quickly, they would return again to his hands or his knees. He cleared his throat, sniffing, and looked up, watching as Jack began to nod off.

Ennis' brow furrowed slightly as Jack's head hit the back window of the truck, and he stared at him, taking in his features. Jack looked so peaceful, sleeping there. Ennis looked down at his boots, scuffing one slightly against the bed of the truck. He would never admit that what he thought remembered happening had actually happened, but… Ennis' eyes returned to Jack, and he found his eyes drawn to the other young man's lips. They were slightly parted, and Ennis found himself thinking suddenly about how gentle they were, so soft to the touch…

Not that he knew what they felt like.

He coughed, looking back at his hands with a deep scowl. It had been a bizarre dream, that was all. A very vivid, bizarre dream. He gripped the side of the truck as they hit a pot hole, and looked up to see Jack's reaction. He had jerked awake, and was now looking around in almost as much confusion as Ennis had felt when he had woken up to find himself sleeping on Jack's shoulder.

Stop it. Stop thinking about that.

He almost quirked a half-grin when Jack told the truck driver to pull over so he could piss. Ennis stayed in the back of the truck as Jack went in to relieve himself. He had to go, too, he realized, but there was no way he would put himself in such close proximity to Jack Twist. The already awkward feeling between them would only get worse if the two of them were seen going into a restroom together.

Ennis blushed at the thought, and quickly changed his thought process, wondering once again how long it would take to get up to Brokeback. Hopefully it would not be much longer; he could not stand much more of this horrendous awkwardness.

He looked up as Jack came sauntering back from the bathroom, and looked away as Jack swung himself back into the truck, his cigarette dangling from his lip. Suddenly Ennis found himself wanting a cigarette. He was not sure if it was because he had seen Jack's cigarette, or because he had seen Jack smoking the cigarette, but he suddenly had an itching urge for tobacco. But instead, he scuffed the heel of his boot against the bed of the truck, crossing his arms tightly across his chest, and said nothing.

Ennis looked over as the truck's driver came out of the convenience store with a bottle of whiskey, and a slight, tight grin played at one corner of his mouth. Then he pushed the thought from his mind. Whiskey made him have strange dreams. He did not need to be thinking about drinking whiskey at a time like this. He had been warned all his life about the evils of various things, among them whiskey drinking, smoking cigarettes, doing drugs, and homosexuality. Thus far, he had sampled a bit of all of them.

Except homosexuality. Jesus fucking Christ.

Ennis gritted his teeth, pulling his knees up to his chest, scowling. "Fuckin'," he mumbled to himself. "Ain't nothin' happened."

The truck started off again, and Ennis looked out at the countryside, watching it pass by, keeping his mind off of Jack and whiskey and odd, vivid dreams that he might have or might not have had. The wind whistled past his head, and he squinted his dark eyes, watching the landscape flash by. Once they got up to Brokeback and started doing their separate jobs, he would not have to interact with Jack as much, and this strange occurrence would become a thing of the past. With any luck, they would be able to laugh about it in time.

Finally, the truck arrived at Brokeback Mountain, and Ennis got out after Jack. The driver gave them a few words of warning, which Ennis only half-paid attention to. His attention was captured by an assortment of horses that were lined up to be chosen from. He loved horses. He took the soft muzzle of one in his hand and gently pressed his nose to the horse's long face, smiling. It smelled sweet, like hay.

Ennis had been raised around horses, so he was a good enough horseback rider, but he had not had much of a chance to be around them since he had been put out to fend for himself a year ago. Being around horses like this was refreshing, and it made a warm glow build up inside him as he petted each horse's nose in turn. He looked in each horse's eyes as he passed them, trying to pick one who would respect him, but who would do good work. He finally decided on a honey-brown horse.

He did not bother asking its name; he had always called horses "Horse," dogs "Dog," and cats "Cat". Names were a bother. It was a wonder he, himself had so many of them. He looked over, watching as Jack selected his horse, a beige mare, and a slight frown crossed his face. He had passed that one over, but he guessed Jack was not as experienced with horses as he was. Ennis considered saying something, then decided to drop the subject. He turned away, letting out a quiet breath of laughter. Jack would learn what kind of horse he had chosen soon enough.

Then the pack-mules were handed off to him. "Just don't ask for soup," the squatty Mexican man who had handed off the mules to him told him with a frown. "Those soup-boxes are hard to pack."

"Don't eat soup," Ennis mumbled, shaking his head as he worked the mules' reigns in his hands. He did not look at the man as he turned away, back towards his horse, Jack, and the marked sheep. With a quick glance at Jack, he tied the mules to his horse, swung himself up into the saddle, and clicked his tongue for his horse to start up to the mountain.

He half-listened as Jack tried to strike up an airy conversation. "Yep," he replied half-heartedly, his tongue moving slowly across his dry lips as he looked up towards the sky. "Quiet."

He looked back out towards their destination, listening to Jack's story about his father and their trips up to the mountain, nodding along with him. "Sounds nice," he replied. "Sad world view, though. Fuckin'…" He glanced at Jack, then looked away again. "Sad," he said again, quieter.

Then he frowned slightly, looking over at Jack again. "No, no," he said, "'s fine. I just… ain't real talkative." He looked away again. "Don't mean… you can't be." He sniffed, looking out at the countryside. "I mean…" He shrugged. "I kinda like it."

He offered a tight smile to Jack, then looked away, clearing his throat. "I mean," he was digging himself into a hole. "I, uh… It kills the silence." He frowned then. "Hate… awkward silence," he said. "Makes me feel real…" He fumbled for the word. "Awkward," he finally said.

He scowled at himself, looking determinedly away from Jack. There was a long silence between the two. Then Ennis said, "So, uh… I should get up t' the campsite." He paused, clearing his throat, then sniffed. "Start gettin' supper ready," he mumbled.

_____

Jack watched as Ennis nuzzled the horses softly, he felt his heart melting and his lips smiling. Before Ennis could look over he wiped the ridiculous grin off his face, scolding himself for staring again. He almost met eyes with Ennis as he looked over Jack's horse. Jack quickly busied himself with the saddle and avoided eye contact.

The crisp breeze caused Jack to pull his coat closer; he stared for a long while at a stream running close by. Jack glanced at Ennis when he said that it was a sad view of the world, pondering it for a moment.

"I guess. I jus' meant that- well, that the mountains were always the same. They jus'…" Jack threw another furtive glance at the other man, "… I don't know." Jack shrugged. "I never had much friends. I mean, sure while school was in I'd have friends an' all, but I dropped out near the end of my freshman year when my daddy took us on a year long rodeo trip 'cross the U.S. When I come back, no one was really… y'know… like, friendly with me no more. Ev'rybody had new friends an' I'd been gone so long that no one really felt like they knew me any more." Jack suddenly felt like he had been bitchin'. He looked up at the sky again, apologizing for talking so damned much. Why couldn't he just keep-

'Did he say he liked me?' Jack felt his heart skip a beat, he briefly looked at Ennis and shook his head, 'Said he liked the talkin' not you, Twist. Why the hell would he like you? Dumb ass.'

"I guess, I'll go get the sheep settled an' then come back to help set up camp?" Jack asked, nodding as Ennis moved his horse off to the campground area.