Title: Goodnight

Fandom: Brokeback Mountain

Characters: Jack Twist/Ennis Del Mar

Prompt: #70--Storm

Word Count: 727

Rating: PG

Summary: A blizzard blows in over the little camp on Brokeback Mountain, giving Jack and Ennis a little time to warm up and connect.

Author's Notes: Set during the snowstorm where the sheep get mixed in with the other herd.

OO

Jack knew the snow was coming at least a dozen hours before it actually came. He saw the thick, heavy gray clouds gather on other side of Brokeback and he felt the bone deep ache in the middle and ring finger of his left. He's busted them beneath a horse's hoof when he was twelve and now he always knew when weather was coming.

What surprised him was how furious the storm turned out to be. The flakes started falling around dusk, big, thick, fat ones that lighted where they landed for a long second before they melted away. By the time they'd finished up supper, there was already a good half inch laying thick on the ground.

Then the wind started to blow, turning the pretty flakes into little spear driven wherever flesh was exposed.

"It's goddamn August." Jack moaned, hurrying to put everything back where it belonged so he could escaped inside the tent. "Goddamn Wyomin' mountain weather."

"I gotta get back to the sheep." Ennis said, shoving his raw hands deep inside his pockets and hunching down into the upturned collar of his coat.

"You're fuckin' jokin'!" Jack cried over the dull roar of the wind. "Ain't no damn way your goin' up to the damn sheep. It's an hour ride, ain't no way you make it without getting' lost. You're stayin' in the damn tent with me."

As he spoke, the a particularly violet gust rocked through the camp, making a side of the tent lift three or four inches off the ground.

"C'mon, 'fore the whole things blows away." Jack yelled, ducking under the flap and into the little cave of a tent. Ennis followed behind, kneeling to tie the flap down once he was in.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ." Jack said through chattering teeth, pulling off his snow soaked coat and laying it flat in a corner of the tent. If he was lucky it would be dry by morning. If he wasn't, it would be frozen solid. "It's cold as a whore's tit."

Ennis said nothing, stripping off his own coat and laying it next to Jack's. Both of them pulled off their boots and heaped them next to the tent flap to dry out. The night was going to be cold and Jack had a feeling that the morning wasn't going to be much warmer. Damn fucking weird weather.

"C'mere, cowboy." Ennis shimmied into the mess of blankets and sleeping bags that served as a beds, unbuttoning his shirt.

Jack crawled over the heap of blankets and slid down next to Ennis. They got as close as they possibly could, desperately needing the warmth that only bodies could provide. Ennis grabbed Jack's hands and rubbed them between his own as their little pocket warmed up.

"You about froze stiff." He said, holding Jack's hands against his chest.

"Ain't nothing I never dealt with before." Jack said easily. "We get storms like this ev'ry damn year back home. I reckon I'll survive."

"You better." Was all Ennis said.

Now that he was warm, Jack began to feel the effects of another long, boring, but hard day on Brokeback Mountain beginning to take hold. His limbs felt like they were made out of lead and his eyelids were hundred pounds weights. His jaw cracked in a monstrous yawn.

"Go to sleep, cowboy." Ennis said, laying down on his back with Jack's head resting on his chest.

"Ain't real tired." Jack said, another yawn breaking his words.

"Sure you ain't." Ennis said in a voice that would have been gentle if it had come from another man. "Sleep and I'll be here in the mornin'."

"Promise?" Jack asked, the word popping out of his half asleep mouth before he could do anything about it.

"Course, cowboy." Ennis said in a voice that sounded both tender and exasperated. "Where the hell you think I'm gonna go?"

"Nowhere." Jack answered, "But I was just checkin'. G'night, Ennis."

"G'night, cowboy."

Jack feel asleep.

"What're you doin' to me, cowboy?" Ennis murmured into the darkness of the tent. For no reason at all other than it felt right, he brushed the lightest, softest kiss that he'd ever given on Jack's forehead, just above his eyebrow.

"G'night, darlin'."

END