Inspired by one of my favorite songs of all time, "Falls On Me," by Fuel. I had intended for this to be a songfic, but I couldn't seem to weave the lyrics in well enough. However, I suggest reading the lyrics because, once you think about them, let them sink in, you (or at least I) realize how perfect they are for the boys.

I feel the need to point out my own brillance. If you'll refer to your movie and go to the "first morning after" scene, we will note that Ennis is quite toussled: pants around his knees, hair looking like a cross-breed between a porqupine and a hedgehog. Jack, on the other hand, is wearing his jacket, curled up under the blankets, hair very organized... This would lead one (me) to guess that while Ennis was "out, down, and asleep" Jack was awake a little while longer. One (me) might wonder what Jack thought about in that time. Thus, this fic was born, and I demand that you proceed to enjoy it.

- Falls On Me -

Jack

I lay on my stomach, panting a little still, and could hear Ennis already asleep next to me. Couldn't say I was real surprised: he hadn't been more than half-awake through any of it. I rolled onto my back and reached down for my pants, slowly pulling them up over my hips and fixing the buckle in place. I still felt kind of numb: shocked by what I'd dared to do, and how Ennis had reacted to it…

I pushed myself up and searched around for my jacket; Ennis was laying half on top of it, and I had to yank it out from under him, but he hardly even noticed. I shrugged into the jacket, then paused, looking down at Ennis's face. His hair was still damp and a little tousled, but his face was peaceful, like he was having a real good dream. My eyes moved down farther, to where his pants were still open and he hung out, not bothered by the cold; my thoughts slipped back to what we'd just done.

It hadn't been my first time. No, that'd been with my best friend in high school: we'd been roughhousing and our pants had seemed to fly off, and then I was on hands and knees with him behind and inside me. We'd done it a few more times before I'd dropped out of school and gone on to rodeoing; I hadn't talked to him since. I'd had a few more one-night things, but nothing serious, and nothing recent. And I'd been wanting Ennis Del Mar almost since I first saw him outside Aguirre's trailer.

He was an enigma. Just when I thought I had Ennis figured out, I found out something new and had to reanalyze everything I'd thought. We were the same in a lot of ways—both from way the hell in the middle of nowhere, both high-school dropouts, both "ranch stock," both with not much money to our names, both owning little more than what we carried with us. But that was about where the similarity ended.

If I'd just happened to meet Ennis in some casual place, I probably would have spent a few minutes trying to engage him in conversation and then given up after a few monosyllabic answers. It would have just been too much work. But up here on Brokeback…well, what else was there to do? We were going to be spending the whole summer together, and if I'd had to do the talking for both of us in that time, I would end up with a broken jaw—either because I'd talk it off, or Ennis would deck me for annoying him so often.

So I'd made it my mission to get to know Ennis Del Mar, whether he wanted me to or not. I figured that I'd eventually know enough about him to be able to bring up just the right topic to get him talking for more than a few words at a time. And when I did…it was like the sun shining through on a cloudy day. To see him smile, to hear his soft laugh on those rare occasions…I held those moments close, knowing I would never forget them.

And now this. Laying inside the tent with him so close…it was no real surprise my hands found their way inside my pants. But I hadn't been thinking at all when I'd reached behind me and grabbed Ennis hand, and pressed his fingers down against my cock. After just a little while, his fingers sprung open and he nearly flew to the other side of the tent; I spun around as fast as I could and grabbed one of his arms, keeping my eyes locked on his, and pulled my jacket off. I heard him mumble something like "What're you doin'?" but I reached out and grabbed his arms; he tried to push me away, but I held on tight, grabbed onto the sides of his face and felt him do the same to me; I pressed my forehead against his, felt one of his hands stroke the side of my face. He must have seen something in my eyes, or I saw something in his, but then I was on hands and knees. It was over faster than I would have wanted, and he rolled off me and over onto his back, probably falling asleep right then.

But it was damn better'n any a the other times. Maybe it was just that I'd gone so long without it…but a part of me knew that it'd been so much better because of who it'd been with. Ennis Del Mar was something special, that was sure.

What was he thinking now? Was he even thinking about what we'd done? And what would happen now? I'd known I was "queer" for a while now, and I was alright with that; but…Ennis wasn't me. He couldn't just accept something like what we'd done—or at least he couldn't accept it right away, if he ever even did. There was no telling with Ennis: you didn't know what he was gonna do until after he'd already done it.

Ennis was the one friend I had in this world. I'd been more open with him than I'd ever been with anyone else, and I knew it was the same for him. I'd spent so much time trying to get him to crawl out of his shell, and I'd finally gotten him to poke his head out…and now I was afraid he was gonna pull it right back in. I didn't want that to happen, but I couldn't think of anything I could do to stop Ennis from pulling back away from me. If he didn't want this… No, that wasn't right. I knew he did want this, else he wouldn't have done it in the first place. But if he got it into his head that this whole thing was "wrong" and that it'd make him queer…well, there was nothing I could do but hope.

Whatever would happen, I wouldn't find out until tomorrow, with Ennis sleeping like he was. So I rolled up under my blankets and somehow managed to fall asleep.


A cold draft of air woke me up, and I sat up and looked around. Ennis was gone, and the tent flap was open. I swore softly, but I could still hear him outside, saddling up his horse. I grabbed my hat and walked outside slowly. He must have heard me, but he didn't turn, just shoved his gun into its place and then swung up into the saddle. "See you for supper," I said, and he finally looked down at me, real quick, then kicked his horse off down the trail. I watched him go, kept watching long after he was out of sight.

I had to do something. If I didn't do something I would spend the whole day worrying about something I couldn't do a thing about. So I grabbed my dirty clothes and Ennis's and went down to the creek to wash everything I could, shivering in the cold air but not caring since it numbed me enough to keep me from thinking. But it could only keep me busy for so long. Eventually, I wandered out and sat down on a little hill, looking out at the sheep; I leaned over on one elbow, stretched my legs out, and just let my thoughts come at me.

He hates me now. He don't care no more. He don't want anythin' to do with me. I ruined everythin' we had. This is all my fault. I want him again…want him so bad…

I heard footsteps behind me and closed my eyes, not daring to hope but hoping all the same. I looked up, saw him standing there, not looking at me but at the sheep. He sat down slowly and I looked away, feeling my heart hammering against my chest. I couldn't have said anything if I'd tried, and he was as silent as always. Finally, he glanced over at me and said real soft, "This is a one-shot thing we got goin' on here."

I nodded a little. "It's nobody's business but ours."

"You know I ain't queer."

"Me neither," I lied, looking up at him and wondering what the hell this really meant. What did he want?

After a while, he got up and walked back to his horse; I followed him and we rode back to camp. Neither of us said a thing as I made supper, and we ate in silence. He took the dishes down to the creek to clean. I got up, glanced over at where he crouched, scrubbing the plates, then shook my head and ducked into the tent. There was nothing I could do.

I threw my hat against the wall of the tent and flopped down on the blankets, pulling my jacket off and tossing it down near my feet. I let myself be angry for a moment or two—angry at Ennis for what he was putting me through, angry at him for all these things I was feeling—and then I sighed and pulled my shirt off, folded it a little and put it in the corner; grabbed my hat and put it next to my shirt, snatched my jacket and balled it up next to the shirt and hat. I tucked one of my arms up under my head and lay down, staring at nothing and just waiting to hear Ennis ride off down to the sheep.

There's nothing I can do.


Ennis

I sat by the fire, staring into the flickering flames. I could hear Jack moving around inside the tent, and had to force myself not to look over, afraid that he would see me looking…

Last night…that should never have happened. It had been mistake, a big mistake. Jack and I, we were just friends, nothing more than that. I wanted to pretend like last night had never happened, so that Jack and I could go on like we had been…but my thoughts kept flickering to the tent, and the man inside it…

"I'm not queer," I said aloud, though it was little more than a whisper. "I'm not."

It had been one of the greatest fears for most of my life, ever since I'd seen old Earl dead in the ditch, beaten and dragged around… That won't never happen to me, I'd sworn when I'd been old enough to understand why all that had happened to Earl. And now, this thing with Jack…

I thought of Jack as my closest friend. He knew me better than anyone else ever had—better than anyone else ever would, since I didn't plan on ever opening myself up like I had to Jack. But the thing was, I'd wanted him to know all these things about me, wanted him to know who Ennis Del Mar really was. Soon as he knew all the things about me no one else knew, I could be myself around him, and not have to worry about looking the fool—'cause Jack certainly had that roll down.

What we'd done last night, it was just something stupid…fooling around. It hadn't meant anything, not really. I wasn't queer, and neither was Jack. We were just two normal guys, good friends.

I looked over at the tent, saw Jack stuffing his jacket in a corner of the tent. Swallowing hard, I looked away.

I could keep lying to myself, but…I knew the truth. Jack had known just what he was doing last night, and he'd wanted to do it…and I had hardly tried to stop him…because I had wanted it just as much. Hadn't known I'd wanted it until Jack had shown it to me…and had finally realized what all the things I'd been feeling for the past weeks really meant.

Damn you, Jack…damn you for what you're doin' to me… I can't do this…

But I want him so bad.

The thought surprised me, but I knew instantly that it was the truth. I would never have thought something like that unless it was the truth.

Looking again at the tent, I saw Jack stretched out on his back, and my heart began to beat a little faster as I got slowly to my feet.

This is wrong, I thought desperately as I moved closer to the tent. I…no, I can't do this… The sheep! The sheep need me…have to get down to the sheep…can't be here…anywhere but here… But my feet carried me to the tent without me ever really trying to stop them.


Jack

Gravel crunched, and I looked over to see Ennis walking towards the tent, his hat held in both hands. He crouched down and ducked inside, and I sat up, my heart pounding. I reached out and put my hand on one of his arms, looking deep into eyes, trying to figure out what the hell he wanted. He met my eyes, and didn't look away, letting me read what I wanted to in them. I took his hat gently out of his hands and set it down next to mine; he looked away then—maybe I'd let him read too much in my eyes—and I reached out to stroke the side of his face with my hand, begging him without words to look at me. And when he did, I leaned forward and pressed my mouth against his, hearing how hard he was breathing—or maybe how hard I was breathing, I wasn't sure which of us it was. I pulled my mouth away, but our faces were still pressed together; he looked down, maybe a little ashamed, but I kept my hand on his face and whispered, "It's alright. It's alright." He nodded a little, and I leaned back, pulling his head down on my chest, moving one of my hands down to hold onto his arm and wrapping my own arm around the back of his head, burying my fingers in his hair and holding his head tightly against me. He looked like he was going to cry, and he reached for my face like he thought I was about to disappear. I pressed my lips against the top of his head, holding him as tight as I could; he buried his face in my shoulder, moved his hand down over my chest to grab at my side, and I pulled him even closer, felt his tears on my shoulder and rocked him a little bit. Then he lifted his head up and our lips met, and I rolled him gently onto his back, still kissing him. I lifted my head up long enough to look into eyes, to make sure that he really did want this; I was more than convinced when he lifted his own lips to mine, and refused to let them go.

:>