Disclaimer: I do not own Brokeback Mountain, it belongs to Annie Proulx.
Author's Note: When I found out about this story/movie, I instantly fell in love with it. I was left with a pit of despair when I read Proulx's short story; it was so emotionally charged. I've yet to see the movie, but when it finally opens where I live... the wait will definitely be worth it.
This is just a short ficlet. Nothing too over-the-top, but hopefully something you'll enjoy nonetheless.
Edit: I found a few words I was missing. I put them back where they should be.
Artless Embrace
A lone figure stood by the fire, wordlessly watching the blaze with a curious sense of tacit longing. In a strange way, he envied how seamlessly the flames embraced the wood, much like the way a mother would enfold her infant child.
He reached with his hand up to his head, and by the brim, removed his cowboy hat, as did the eclipse that had masked his profile. The evening light revealed a round face with curly hair and, if he had had the will to smile that day, two conspicuous buck teeth. His large, glassy eyes each contained a small reflection of the bright flames they concentrated on.
Jack forced himself alert as approaching footsteps sounded from a short distance away. He listened to the crunching of grass crescendo, vaguely aware. No doubt Ennis had come. Other than their regular sexual encounters, physical contact was very limited between the two men. This was, to a certain degree, resented upon. The sex was nice, but he wanted more than that. He was a hopeless romantic to a fault. Not in that particular mood, Jack didn't bother to turn around to acknowledge his presence.
Yet that was not the case that night. Ennis dismounted from his horse, approached the smaller man, and in a surprising move, slipped both his arms around Jack's waist and pulled him in so their shadows merged into one.
The entity swayed slightly back and forth, Ennis humming a familiar tune so softly the wind sang along. Jack felt Ennis all around him: the chin on his shoulder, the warmth of his body heat, and his resonating heartbeat sending vibrations through Jack's own chest. He shuddered slightly, foreign to such an intimate embrace.
The sun's light faded and the minutes ticked by, but neither man made any attempt to break the serenity. Ennis's strong arms remained threaded through Jack's, rocking slowly to the rhythm of Ennis's tune. Jack's eyelids flickered, not out of fatigue, but contented gratification. Without knowing, he allowed his eyes to shut completely and became engulfed into the simplicity of the moment. He noticed nothing other than Ennis's gentle breath on his neck and the pulse they both shared.
"Time to hit the hay, cowboy, I gotta go. Come on, you're sleeping on your feet like a horse." Ennis gave Jack one last affectionate squeeze, finally released him, receded a few steps and hopped back on his horse. It ruffled out a strangled neigh when Ennis sent his boot spikes to its stomach, then broke into a trot. "See you tomorrow." The pair rode away into the new darkness.
Jack remained in the same spot, body tingling numb. His gaze shifted back to the fire, the embers now burning a fainter glow. He suddenly became aware of the cold and shivered.
The moment was unexplainable, how uncharacteristically Ennis had known exactly what to, with such impeccable timing. Justification for his behaviour wasn't necessary. All that mattered was that it was perfect.
The same yearning, however, continued to linger. It was something Jack was unable to shrug off, no matter how hard he tried. Perhaps it was because that instance was the precisely what Jack had always wanted all along. Or perhaps it was because that instance was one he knew would never again be repeated.
The End
Author's Note: So maybe it wasa bit of overkill, but I just adored the scene in the story. Proulx meant this scene to mean something else, but I chose to interpret it slightly differently. Reviews would be greatly appreciated.