"Jack!"

Ennis called after the quickly retreating man one final time, hoping he'd turn around, come back and at least give him a chance to apologize. No such luck. From the bottom of the incline he didn't have a very good view, so it didn't take long for him to loose sight of Jack's shirtless form storming off, mad as hell, and most likely unforgiving.

"Goddamnit!"

Ennis turned around, put his hand on his hips. He was still naked as a jaybird and so he walked back over to where his clothes were lying, feeling suddenly vulnerable and self-conscious even though he was alone. There were times to be naked, and this was not one of them.

He was staring out at the water, wondering how he'd let things get so off track, and he didn't notice the jagged rock near his clothes. He stepped down on it hard, cutting the bottom of his foot fairly deep and causing him to yell out in surprise. He lifted his foot up, hopped up and down for a minute, and then got a good look at the offending stone.

"Stupid damn fuckin'…" Mumbling curses at the rock as though it would somehow take away the pain.

Ennis picked up the stone, surprisingly heavy in his hand, and threw it roughly into the water, causing a splash that was too small to be satisfying. He found another slightly bigger rock, and this time threw it into the pond with both hands, creating a splash that better suited his aggression. He stood there, watching the ripples, waiting for them to slow down and then eventually vanish.

The longer he stood at the water's edge, the more the dirt stung his cut. He waded into the water, wincing as he walked, so he could rinse the wound. When he felt it was good and clean, he hobbled out, only stepping on his toes so he wouldn't get it dirty again, and grabbed his shirt, dunked it in the water to cool it off, then wrapped it around his foot and tied the ends in a knot, soothing the wound and staunching the bleeding.

He admired his handy work for a second before putting on his pants and then picking up his boots and hat. He stopped when he saw Jack's hat, the fancy black felt Stetson lying in the dirt like it was a part of the native scenery. The sight of the now dirty hat brought some sort of biting emotion closer to the surface, and he hobbled over to it, picked it up, and dusted it off with his hand. He couldn't get all the dirt off, but that didn't bother him much, he liked seeing the hat soiled, liked the way the black felt was not as dark caked with dust and mud, it made Jack seem more…real.

Ennis limped his way back to the rock he'd sat on only a few minutes before and plopped himself down, his foot the only part of him feeling immediate relief. He turned the hat over in his hands, got a good look at it. It was nice, not too new, fairly worn, but still with an expensive look to it. Ennis placed it on his head. It fit fairly well, was a little big, but not too much. He took it off and set it down on the rock next to him, brought his legs up to sit Indian style. He fingered the surprisingly nice thread of the shirt that he'd wrapped around his cut and then realized it wasn't his shirt at all—it was Jack's.

"He must a' grabbed my shirt instead a' his and stormed off without noticin' it."

This knowledge hit Ennis like a punch to the gut and suddenly the story—the shirts—came bubbling out of the depths.

The story had not been lost on him, neither had the moral. Well not really a moral, but at anything, a warning. Though of all the things he'd said to Jack only minutes before, one was specifically true. He really didn't like the story, didn't like it because the more he'd read it (the number of readings had increasingly progressed even though he told himself to stop and just throw it out—for some reason he couldn't put it down for very long) the more he'd felt the loss, the more he'd understood the absolute void that the story's Ennis had been thrust into.

He understood because he'd been living in his own version of that same void his entire life.

Ennis knew death. His parents had died when he was young enough to need to be taken care of by his brother and sister, but not so young that he didn't understand what it meant to be orphaned. Ennis knew loss. He'd had his chances of an education taken from him with one stupid busted transmission, had any hope of some life beyond ranching run off the cliff at an unexpected curve. He'd been left by his sister, then eventually left by his brother, then eventually left by his wife. He was familiar with pain, so familiar that he could barely recognize what it really was; it wore a mask of normalcy.

His sister used to always tell him, after he'd stopped going to school and was forced to find work on ranches to help raise money, she used to tell him, "Don't worry too much, you've jest hit hard times, you'll pull yerself out one day." Ennis had been working and fighting his whole life for that one day to come, and the older he'd gotten the more he'd begun to realize that that "one day" wasn't coming. So hard times had become his life, backbreaking job, heart breaking marriage, no satisfaction, no happiness.

Until he'd met Jack. Until, one fateful day, when he'd seen stranger walk in through the doors of the roughest bar in Riverton, and he'd helped him out in a bar fight and ended up finding the best friend he'd ever known. That was when he'd realized what real loss was.

It was funny because all the things he'd lived through, all the sadness and all the pain, it had never really bothered him that much. It wasn't until he'd found this man, this friend, full of life, full of joy and good times and good stories, that he'd realized that the real loss of his life was that he'd never ever enjoyed a single minute of it. He'd found his joy in his daughters, and that had been enough, but he'd never lived for himself, never had a sense of self or worth or of happiness. That changed in the blink of an eye.

It had taken him a while to figure this out, in fact, the truth of it hadn't really hit him until after the previous night he'd shared with Jack. But the more he read the story, the closer to the truth he got, and the more he felt this loss, the loss of a friend, the loss of the truest kind of friend any one can have, a partner in the best sense of the word. So he did what Ennis Del Mar did best: he'd ignored it. He pushed away the loss of "Jack's death" and forgot about it. It wasn't something he wanted to confront, because it was so close to home, it could have been real. He'd been able to keep it away, until Jack had started his mouth, had brought up the subject, wanting to talk like he always did. Ennis couldn't hide from it when it was looking him right in the face.

He was afraid, and even more so, confused. And so once again he did what he did best when he was afraid: he got defensive. He tried to hurt Jack to keep him away from him, because God forbid, he see the real Ennis, the man that was insecure and afraid of what was happening to himself and what could happen to Jack. The things he'd said to Jack, they'd just been a front, something to change the subject, something, anything, to take the focus off the story and what was supposed to happen next, because in all honesty, Ennis had no idea.

The book weighed heavy on his mind, and a part of him wanted to say, "fuck the story, be with him, fuck everyone, jest do what make ya happy fer once."

But then there was that other side of him that said, "No, ya saw what happened didn't ya? It all went ta hell in the end. Jack died cuz a' all this, how would ya handle that after living without him fer yer whole damned life?"

Ennis sighed and leaned back on his elbows, let the cool rock soothe his tired muscles, his weary mind. The sun was warm on his face, and even with his eyes closed, tainted the darkness with bright red light.

"Yer not gettin' much younger, ya know…"

Ennis opened his eyes and looked down at his bare chest, at the clumps of hair running from his stomach to his collarbone, sprinkled with gray. He could almost feel Jack's hand on him, his fingers running over the coarse hairs. He exhaled loudly and laid back on the stone completely, throwing one arm over his face to block out the interfering sunlight.

"Yer too old fer this kind a' nonsense. Ya should be home with a wife and with grandchildren runnin' around, and that's that."

But none of that had worked out, so why shouldn't he try for something else that might make him happy?

And wasn't happy with Jack Twist? Wasn't that just the definition of "happy"? Ennis wasn't sure, but if "happy" meant the way he felt when he'd first seen Jack step out from the trees into the moonlight two night ago, then bring on the joy.

Ennis let his mind return to the night Jack had arrived, how something inside felt like it had opened, something that had been screwed tight for a long time. He'd been sure Jack wasn't coming, had been down right blue about it, and then there he was, like some sort of weird vision from a dream. That was the first time he'd felt the desire for Jack Twist, felt it reach up from the depths and take hold of him stronger than anything he'd ever felt before. The first time he'd imagined what it would be like to touch his lips, to feel his hands on him, to taste him. Well maybe it hadn't been the first time, but it was the first time that he understood that what he was feeling was desire.

The whole first night he'd wanted to just grab the man and throw him down on the ground, show him how pleased he was to see him after four long weeks. But he'd held back, held back till it almost hurt. And then it had finally happened, Jack had finally taken it into his own hands and they'd kissed. At last.

That had been the most frightening and the most exciting moment of Ennis' life. For a few brief moments, he'd been lost, lost totally in the experience of Jack. Then suddenly, the old fear came back to him, that old "I'm not no queer" fear, and he'd panicked, fled like the devil himself had been after him.

When he'd made it back to camp, he didn't know what to do with himself. He paced, started and doused fires, made sure camp was all set (even though they'd seen to it before), done everything and nothing until the sun had started to go down. Torn, mad at himself, and even more confused, he'd finally settled down to sleep, not knowing where Jack was, or if he was even coming back, figuring that he'd finally blown it all to hell, after all the trouble.

But then, once again, like some sort of ghost, he'd appeared at the entrance to the tent, and everything Ennis had ever imagined, and at the same time, nothing he'd ever imagined happening to him, happened. Jack was with him, on him, inside him—his breath, his scent, his voice, all overwhelming, drowning Ennis.

Ennis sat up, revived by the memory, and looked out at the water, the powerful falls, and the gentle, docile, ripples that stretched all the way to the edge and eventually narrowed into the stream that wove all throughout this part of the Teton National Park.

So the ultimate question was, run and hide, or step up and face his fears like a man?

Ennis ran his hands over the plaid material of Jack's shirt, damp with water and a little blood.

"How can ya hide from somethin' like this?"

And the truth was; he couldn't.

"Fuckin' asshole!"

Jack was stampeding up the trail, a blur in the mountain forest. All he could think about was getting as far away as he could, getting far away from Ennis and from the horrible sick feeling that was growing in his stomach.

"Damnit, damnit, damnit…"

His chanting took up a rhythm, matching his steps as though each jolt from his foot touching down on the hard ground caused the words to erupt from his mouth.

After nearly twenty minutes, Jack started getting a little winded and slowed down, feeling the sweat trickling down his back and collecting under his arms.

"Great deal a' good takin' a swim did."

His feet came to a gradual stop and he grabbed the shirt he'd thrown over his shoulder to wipe the perspiration from his forehead. His lack of movement gave the heat a chance to catch up with him. He realized that as the day had gotten later, the air had gotten muggier (surprisingly), causing dampness among the trees heavy enough to make their leaves sag towards the dusty ground. With the day's humidity and heat also came the despair.

Jack felt the stinging tears well, tried to keep them from falling, but it was no use, they wove crooked tracks down his face, mingling with the sweat. The deep anguish that had been hidden by his overwhelming anger was now given room to flourish and it grabbed Jack by the throat, hit him full in the chest so hard it was difficult to breath. His shoulders shook with the force of his sobs, a mixture of anger and heartbreak.

He pried his eyes open, wiped his tears away, damning them, damning himself.

"Stop it!" He said his words aloud, hoping that would help. "Stop it, ya damned pussy, stop it!"

He slapped himself hard on the side of the face, the feeling far away and dull. He took in a deep breath and wiped his face dry with the shirt. He stood there in silence.

"Damnit, Jack. If yer gonna be a gay man, at least do it with a little dignity, okay?"

It was hard to do though, to keep his dignity, especially since now he felt as though he'd been kicked in the face and drowned in the mud. He'd been a fool. A stupid fucking fool to believe that things could ever work out, to believe that the story had some sort of grip on reality and that Ennis Del Mar could ever love Jack the way Jack loved him. He should have known, should have known.

"Yer such an idiot, Twist. Yer jest as bad as ya were in the story. Comin' up here on a whim, not even thinkin' it through, only thinkin' with yer dick. And then ta believe that maybe everything could work out, maybe it could be better than the story, maybe ya could actually make a go of it."

Jack exhaled deeply and wiped more sweat from the back of his head.

"You were a fool."

Yes, he had been a fool, but this was where it ended, this was where the sensible Jack Twist came back and took over and never let that stupid smiling dreamer out again.

Jack started walking again. He read the story, he knew how it ended, he knew how Ennis had strung him along, never actually having the balls to step out of the dark, to step out of the wilderness and admit to loving Jack Twist. Well it wasn't happening that way this time. No fucking around, no waiting for Ennis to make up his mind like some love sick little schoolgirl. Hell no, not in this life.

The sad thing was, a part of Jack desperately wanted to go back to the clearing and the waterfall, go back to Ennis and tell him that they didn't have to talk about anything, as long as they could just be together, if only for a little while.

Jack stopped again, angry at the pathetic way he wanted Ennis. He looked down at the shirt he held firmly in his hand, and suddenly realized that it wasn't his, that in fact he'd grabbed Ennis' when he'd stormed off.

"Oh shit."

A wave of nausea washed over Jack, and he fought the vertigo of his spinning surroundings. He bent over, grabbed his knees, closed his eyes. The shirts, he'd taken Ennis' shirt, and he hadn't even intended to.

After a few deep breaths, Jack opened his eyes and saw that the ground had stopped its spin, and carefully straightened up. The nausea had also calmed, and now he was left with a strange feeling of quiet.

"I can't escape the story no matter how hard I try. I can't seem ta escape it."

Jack's heartbeat picked up and once again he was filled with a sense of anger, almost to the point of panic. He started his walk again, faster paced, almost jogging.

"Fuck if I'm gonna jest stand around boo hooin' all day. I'm tired of doin' what others expect a' me, lettin' other people lead me through my life. I'm makin' my own destiny now. I may not be able to escape it, but I'm sure as hell gonna try."

He eventually got back to the trail that lead to their campsite, the only thing on his mind being how soon he could get himself packed and away from Brokeback Mountain.

Ennis was hiking as fast as his tender foot would take him. He'd taken the shirt off his foot so he could put his boot on and then washed it in the pond so it wouldn't be as rank when he gave it back to Jack. Now, the shirt was flung over his shoulder, a refreshing feeling of cool in the muggy woods, and he had Jack's hat gripped tightly in his right hand.

He'd decided it wasn't best to wait around by the waterfall, didn't know what Jack had in mind, was hoping he wasn't leaving, or worse, that he hadn't already left. So after rinsing Jack's shirt and putting on his boots, he'd hightailed away from the little oasis and headed back to face reality.

Ennis thought it had been a little under an hour by the time he got to their campsite, but it was hard to tell because he hadn't been wearing his watch the past couple of days. He prayed it wasn't too late.

At first sight, the camp looked deserted, and Ennis felt his heart rise up into his throat, ready to deal with yet another blow in his already sad life. But then, he heard a splashing noise near the river, and he carefully, hopefully ventured deeper into the camp, past the tent, until the stream was in view. And there was Jack. He was hunkered down near the water, washing something and smoking like a chimney. He had his back, now clothed in a gray tee shirt, to Ennis and hadn't realized that he was there. Ennis walked over to him, quietly as possible, and stopped when he was about three feet away.

"Can I bum a smoke?"

Jack stopped what he was doing and turned slowly, looking up at him. He had a funny expression on his face that Ennis could only guess was 30 parts shock and 60 parts anger, with something else thrown in to confuse him. He reached into his jeans' pocket and pulled out the cigarette pack, passed it. Ennis took one out and Jack lit it for him before he put it to his mouth and inhaled deeply.

It was funny, but the past two days had been relatively smoke free for Ennis, and for Jack too as far as he could tell. Except for a couple cigarettes in the morning and a couple more the previous night, before Jack had come to him in the tent, he had been riding without the aid of any nicotine. Which was unusual for a man that was used to at least a pack a day (he'd cut it down from two or three packs as he'd gotten older). He took another lung full of the thick, bitter tasting smoke, and then looked back down at Jack who'd returned to whatever it was he was washing.

"What ya got there?"

Jack stood and rung out the clothe he had been rinsing, then walked over to a branch and draped it out to dry. Ennis could see now that it was a shirt—his shirt. Jack didn't bother answering just walked back towards the tent. Ennis noticed that his gear was in a neat little pile outside the tent's entrance. A jolt of panic shot through him.

"Where ya goin'?"

Jack kneeled by his duffel, messed with its zipper, then made sure his sleeping bag was secure. He stood and grabbed both the bags. Ennis took two steps in his direction.

"Ya don't wanna ferget these…" He held out Jack's hat and shirt in each hand.

Jack turned, licked his lips like he was thinking and then set his stuff down. He walked over to Ennis and grabbed his hat, but didn't put it on his head, and then more gently took the shirt that Ennis had in his left hand, examined it slightly, ran his fingers over it.

"I washed it fer ya. I got it kinda dirty, so I thought I should at least clean it up, make it nice again, looked expensive."

Jack shook his head. "It was a gift…from my granddaughter. Thanks."

He took another drag of his cigarette, looked back up at Ennis and sighed.

"I was hoping ta be outta here 'fore you got back."

"Where ya goin'?"

Jack shrugged, looked down. "Don't know."

"Why don't ya stay then?"

Jack shook his head again, this time more vehemently. "No."

He dropped his smoke, squashed the butt with the toe of his boot and then looked back up at Ennis. "There's no reason fer me ta be here any longer."

He turned to walk back to his bags, and Ennis reached out, forgetting his cigarette, and grabbed his arm.

"Jack, come on."

He jerked his arm away and turned to Ennis, anger apparent in his face now.

"I said no, goddamnit!" His eyes bore into Ennis. Jack went over to his things and dropped his hat on top of his duffel but held onto the shirt. He stood there a minute, thinking, and then came back to Ennis, determination set in his face and in his steps.

"I can't live like this the rest a' my life. I can't worry 'bout constantly tip-toin' around you, not wantin' to offend the careful balance that is Ennis' temper, not wantin' ya ta have ta face what it may mean ta have sex with a man. I can't do that. I don't want ta do that."

"You wouldn't have ta."

"Yes I would Ennis, yes I would. I read the book; I know what happens. I thought that wouldn't be the way things turned out, but ya showed me this huge glimpse a' the future earlier today, and I didn't like what I saw."

He turned to walk away again. Suddenly everything as flying past Ennis like a speeding train. It was as though he was the only thing not moving, the only thing stopped, and in that brief moment, he had a sudden jolt that this was a crucial turning point. It was almost like someone opened his skull and told him to either sit up or shut up, but whichever he chose, be prepared to deal with the consequences. Ennis breathed in deep, trying to break his paralysis, trying to make his leg move, or his mouth move, or anything to stop the speeding landscape.

"Jack!" He felt his whole body seize up; terrified of the things he was about to admit. "Fuck it. Jack, I was afraid!"

Jack stopped, the trees stopped, the earth stopped its fast-forward drive. Ennis was breathing hard, sweat dripping down his still bare chest, feeling like he'd just been thrown off a cliff. He waited for Jack to turn around, but he wasn't moving.

"I was afraid a' this. I was afraid a' what it means and what…shit, I don't know what I'm tryin' ta say!" His voice had gotten loud, like he was trying to yell above a thousand screaming voices and that's the way it felt.

"I don't know anythin'! I jest know I'm afraid…for you! Of losin' you. I'm afraid because I think…damnit, Jack…I think I love you."

There he said it. He said it even though the whole while he'd felt like he was dying, felt like the words had to fight their way out of his mouth, but in the end they'd won. And now with the wall finally brought down, Ennis had more to say.

"I didn't want ta tell ya, I thought I could jest keep it ta myself fer as long as it took, thought that keepin' that part silent might be able ta slow things down, keep anythin' bad from happenin', but…well, turns out that wasn't workin'." He took a deep breath and continued, no use of keeping anything else in.

"I read the book too, Jack. I read it prob'bly a hundred times, or more. I lost count. So what kinda person would I be ta follow in the foot steps a' that fictional character, knowing what I know happens in the end, and knowing what could a' been?"

Ennis laughed slightly, ran a hand over his face.

"I'll tell ya, that Annie Proulx certainly's got a good grip on the kinda person I am. Shit, don't know how she managed it, but honestly I probably woulda done the exact same thing had it all worked out that way."

He shook his head. "And sure, I'm an asshole ta say that. But that's where it ends. I got the message, I got the warnin'…I'm not gonna let it happen that way this time."

Jack was still. Ennis could sense some change in his demeanor though, and he thought, at least for now, he'd managed to keep him from going anywhere. He took a few steps, closing the gap between them. He pressed into him and wrapped one arm around the front of Jack's chest, pulling him closer. Then he reached down and grabbed the shirt that Jack had been holding, intertwining their hands and brought it up to Jack's heart.

"This is real. This ain't no story. What d'ya say we take a chance writin' our own version, huh?"

Ennis felt Jack sag a little, but he held him close, rocking them slowly, resting his chin on Jack's shoulder, pressing his face close into his neck. He could smell Jack, not the Jack from Childress, covered in some cologne or other, but the real man, the man from Wyoming, strong, and funny, and loving. He smelled like sweat and cigarettes and something that rang of nature itself, something like earth or wood.

Eventually Jack grabbed the arm Ennis had draped across his chest with his other hand, and then they were totally connected, like a circle, never ending, one part flowing into the other only to continue its flow round and round. Ennis felt a level of peace settle over him that he'd never felt before, something completely soothing and gentle. And in that short moment, they disappeared. It was no longer Jack and Ennis, ranch hand and corporate manager, man and man, it was just two beings, two friends, two lovers, holding on to one another, joining together for a few seconds and forever.

Eventually the sun beating down on Ennis' back caused him to come out of his near doze and he rubbed his hand across Jack's chest.

"Come on, can't stand like this all day."

"Why not?" Jack's voice was quiet, strained, groggy.

Ennis chuckled softly at how much of a boy Jack still was, even in his 56 years.

"Well fer one, it would be kinda strange, and second off, I'm getting' kinda hot and need ta take a piss."

Ennis felt Jack smile, felt his cheeks rise against his own.

"Getting' hot, huh? Anythin' I can help ya with?"

Ennis rolled his eyes, leave it to Jack to have his mind in the gutter at a time like this. He couldn't' help but laugh again, which was exactly Jack's intention.

"You now what I mean."

"Do I?" Jack laughed himself. "All right, but I don't feel ya goin' anywhere."

Ennis closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, savoring Jack's scent once more, then patted Jack's chest and pulled away. Jack wouldn't let their hands untangle though. He turned and faced Ennis, hands still locked on the shirt. Ennis smiled.

"I'm gonna take another dip in the water, it's damn hot out. All sweaty again."

"Don't go too far, okay?"

Ennis nodded, squeezed Jack's hand and then they parted, and Ennis was walking down towards the river, Jack watching his back as he went.

Ennis rinsed himself off in the stream nearby, splashing water over his head and face, washing away the sweat and worries that had made him slick and sticky. Jack had done the same thing before Ennis had gotten back to their campsite and so agreed to go ahead and start the fire for diner, since now the sun was starting its downward trek across the sky.

The whole time Ennis had been in the water, he found that his eyes kept wandering over to Jack. The funny thing was that almost every time he caught his attention moseying over towards the fire, he'd end up meeting Jack's eyes.

They played this little game for nearly twenty minutes, looking, looking away when they were caught, looking back. Eventually, tired of just eye contact, Ennis got out of the stream and walked up towards the fire, completely naked and dripping wet, until he was right next to Jack, his chest almost touching Jack's shoulder.

No words were spoken between them, but they both acted at the same time, both heavy with the same desires. Jack dropped the stick he'd been using to stoke the fire, and turned towards Ennis grabbing his face, tangling his fingers in his dark wet hair, and bringing their lips together forcefully. Ennis immediately wrapped his arms around Jack's middle and then pulled his tee shirt out, snaking his hands up his sides, loving the feel of Jack's warm bare skin against his cool, open palms. Ennis gripped at his back, joining their bodies together, grinding his dick into Jack's groin.

"Ennis," Jack whispered into his mouth. "Ennis, want ya so bad."

His words ignited Ennis' passion to an all time high. The previous times they'd made love Ennis had barely been able to control himself, but now that the air was open between them, he didn't feel he had to. He pulled his hands out from under Jack's shirt and lifted it off his head, threw it on the ground, and then moved his hands down to fiddle with Jack's belt buckle. He got it undone, and then unzipped his pants, let his hand glide over Jack's belly down into his boxers. He looked up to meet Jack's eyes and saw they had that glazed hungry expression he'd noticed a few times before. It was as though all rational thought had left Jack's brain, completely helpless at his touch, completely wanting, needing only Ennis.

Ennis let go of Jack, pulled down his pants, and kneeled in front of him. He brought his mouth close to Jack's dick, standing straight in all its glory. That was one thing about Jack Twist, he was a beautiful man even at age 56, beautiful naked, and that made Ennis want to touch him even more. He opened his mouth and licked at the head of Jack's dick, not sure what to expect, but surprised by what he tasted—salt, skin, and something else distinctly Jack, that woody air he had about him.

He looked up into Jack's face and saw those deep blue eyes, made darker with desire, gazing intently down at him. He couldn't wait any longer and so he took Jack all the way into his mouth, sucking and working his hand at the base of the shaft, stroking slowly in time with the movement of his lips.

Jack stiffened and jutted his hips out trying to give Ennis the easiest access. He was mumbling something, but Ennis wasn't listening, he was too intent on what he was doing, too focused on getting the best and biggest response out of Jack. Ennis reached up with his left hand and grabbed at Jack's ass, bringing him closer to his face, and started to slowly massage his back and his ass, squeezing and rubbing. Jack let out a little yell and had to stomp his foot, had to try and hold off coming, because there was so much more to do, so much more.

A couple moments later, Ennis felt Jack start to stiffen, start to draw up, and he let go and pulled his mouth away, not wanting Jack release. He put one hand on Jack's lower abdomen, and rubbed gently, softly, reassuring.

"All right, all right, hold on there. We don't want the fun ta end yet, do we?"

Jack, whose breathing was starting to slow, starting to return to normal, let out a low chuckle and then reached down for Ennis, wanting him to stand, wanting to meet him face to face. Ennis obliged and stood up, pressing his lips to Jack's, touching tongues, gently increasing the passion of the kiss, bringing his hand up to caress the back of Jack's neck.

After a few seconds, Jack parted their lips and looked into Ennis' eyes, ran his thumb across his cheek. He whispered.

"Ennis, I want ya ta feel what I felt last night. I wanna try it with ya, I'll do my best not ta hurt ya."

Ennis held his breath. "Did I hurt you?"

Jack smiled. "Nothin' I didn't enjoy. So what d'ya say?"

Ennis thought for a moment, in silent, then answered with a slow kiss, showing Jack, rather than telling him, "yes". Jack pulled back, big lopsided smirk on his face, and then sprinted over to his stuff, grabbed his sleeping bag, and returned to Ennis. He unrolled the bag then laid it out over the grass a little ways from the fire.

Ennis took a few steps closer. "We seem ta be puttin' that sleepin' bag a' yers ta good use."

Jack gave Ennis a devilish grin, straightened out a wrinkle in the material, then kneeled down and reached out a hand to Ennis, beckoning.

"Come down here."

Ennis stepped onto the fleece and also kneeled, not taking Jack's hand, but instead going straight for his mouth, holding onto his neck. Jack kissed him back eagerly and then sat up a little more so he could lay Ennis down on his back. He pressed his weight full on Ennis and ran his hand down to grab his dick, didn't stroke, only held it firm in his hand. Ennis pulled back.

"Do I need ta get on my knees or somethin'?"

Jack shook his head. "Nah, I wanna do it like this, facin' you."

Ennis frowned. "Can ya do it like that?"

Jack smiled. "Well, I'm assumin'."

Ennis laughed and rolled his eyes at Jack. "All right, what ever."

"Hey now, don't go gettin' disinterested on me, now!"

Ennis reached up and kissed Jack, made it clear that he was far from disinterested.

"Okay, jest makin' sure."

The two laughed, but the laughter quickly turned to throaty moans as Jack started moving his hand on Ennis, up and down, slowly. He switched hands, and brought his other hand up to his mouth, sucked on one of his fingers, moistening it with his spit.

"Sure wish we had some KY or somethin'."

Ennis chuckled softly, distracted by Jack's touch and then he felt his hand down near his ass. He felt a little pressure and the next thing he knew he could feel Jack's finger inside him. Jack moved it in and out, slowly, not wanting to cause any discomfort.

"Does that hurt?"

Ennis shook his head. "No."

"Good." Jack kissed a trail down Ennis neck and then whispered in his ear. "I don't want ta hurt ya Ennis, so I'm gonna go slow."

Ennis just nodded, not knowing what to say or what to do in the situation, putting himself completely in Jack's hands. Jack pulled his hand out again, sucked on two fingers, then went back down and pushed them inside Ennis. Ennis let out a little cry; he felt a slight twinge, but nothing too bad.

"I'm gonna try three, you okay?"

Ennis nodded again, "Yeah, jest do it."

Jack pushed one more finger in, and Ennis felt a little more pressure, a faint touch of pain, more of discomfort.

"Relax, Ennis, ya gotta relax, other wise it's not gonna be so easy."

"When'd you become the expert on this?"

Jack laughed loudly, and smiled, enough to make Ennis forget the slight discomfort.

"One time's enough, let me tell ya."

He moved his fingers in and out, slowly, and gently continued his strokes on Ennis cock, up and down, in and out. Ennis started to loose himself in the motion and he started gently bucking up and down, up and down. Jack pulled his hand out.

"Okay, I'm gonna really try it this time, all right?"

Jack lifted Ennis legs up slightly, repositioned himself so that he was under him, had better access, and then gently pressed his dick into Ennis. Ennis sucked in a breath, he hadn't quite expected it to feel as big as it did, but it didn't hurt too badly, Jack was being gentle, and he'd already warmed up from the stretching he'd done with his hand.

Jack braced himself on either side of Ennis with his hands, and Ennis grabbed on tight to his back, pulling him in as far as he would go.

"Oh, Jesus, Ennis, this is so good. Oh my god."

Jack moved slightly to the left, got a better angle and then pressed in farther, causing Ennis to yell out, but not from pain—it was like red hot fire had just shot up his dick, stronger and more exciting than anything he'd ever felt.

"Holy shit, Jack! What the fuck?"

Jack started moving a little faster, his eyes closed, breathing hard, sweat beading on his forehead and starting to drip onto Ennis' face. With each thrust, Ennis felt the wonderful throb of pleasure, felt it run through his body all the way to his toes. He wrapped his legs around Jack, wanting to draw them closer, wanting to feel Jack completely. He started bucking up against Jack, feeling the orgasm rise inside him without even touching himself.

But then everything was slowing down. Ennis opened his eyes, staring up at Jack's face—eyes shining, mouth slightly open. Ennis felt his heart clench in his chest, felt that if Jack kept that look on his face much longer he might just die.

"What?"

"Ennis…" his voice was gentle, full of emotion. He cleared his throat.

"Ennis you know I love you, right?"

Ennis grabbed Jack's face in both his hands and pulled him down for a gentle kiss. Jack started his thrusts again while their mouths were locked, sped up his pace, dug his elbows into the ground on either side of Ennis' neck. He parted the kiss and curved his back, brought his forehead down to meet Ennis', eyes locked, bodies locked.

He didn't break their gaze, even when Ennis felt his muscles start to tighten and his balls draw up. He didn't break his gaze even when Jack's eyes got cloudy and his mouth hung open and his breathing sped up and he yelled, "Ennis, Ennis, oh god, Ennis!" and he didn't break his gaze when he felt Jack's body shake and the wet feeling of cum inside him, and then his own powerful release only seconds later splashing wet between their bodies, he wouldn't tear his eyes away from that man. And then it was over.

Jack lay motionless on top of Ennis, still inside, the only sign of life being the quick rise and fall of his back, still breathing heavy from the impact of their orgasms. Ennis, gaze finally broken, had his head turned to the side, eyes wide, barely able to believe what had just happened. From his position, he had a good vision of the fire licking at the open sky and creating hazy patches of gas in the air directly above it. Ennis suddenly realized that they'd just had sex completely out in the open, no covering, no inhibitions, and the best part of it was he didn't even care.

"Sweet Jesus, that was fuckin'amazin'."

Jack's voice came out muffled because his face was buried in his neck. Ennis chuckled at how funny his voice had sounded and then wrapped his arms tight around him.

"Amen ta that."

Jack lifted his face from Ennis' shoulder and gave his a sweet kiss, before pulling out slowly and laying down next to him, shoulder touching shoulder, arm touching arm, leg touching leg. Jack laughed.

"I mean, seriously, I ain't never had sex this good before. I can't think of a single time. Damn. What about you?"

Ennis shrugged. "Think I'd remember if I had."

Jack propped up on his elbow, turned to face Ennis.

"What the hell does this mean then, Ennis? I don't think I've ever come so hard with a woman, and that's not sayin' I haven't tried. It's jest never been like this. Does that mean we're queer?"

Ennis rolled his eyes. "I dunno, Jack. We gotta talk right now?"

Jack sniffed then laid back down. He was quiet for a moment.

"So what happens now?"

Ennis swallowed hard. How was he supposed to answer what he had no clue of?

"I dunno."

"Is that all you can say?" Jack's voice was rising.

"Come on, Jack, jest, give it a rest fer a minute. I know we got more stuff ta talk 'bout, and jest cause I'm not feelin' particularly chatty don't mean I'm backin' out. I jest wanna lay here and enjoy the moment, ya know?"

Ennis heard Jack take in a deep breath and then let it out. Then he rolled over and laid his head on Ennis' chest, draped his arm across his stomach.

"I'm sorry. I'm jest antsy s'all. I got a whole bunch a' energy or somethin'."

Ennis lifted his head to look Jack in the face. "After all that?"

Jack laughed. "Yeah, surprisingly. Damn. That was good wasn't it?"

It was Ennis' turn to chuckle now. "You jest can't keep quiet can you?"

"Guess not. But that's what ya like 'bout me, right?"

"Jack shut the hell up."

"All right, all right, all right. You jest remember this moment the next time ya want me ta keep my mouth open!"

Ennis smirked and hit Jack on the arm playfully. "I will."

"Good. As long as we're clear on that."

Jack laid his head back down on Ennis, as content to feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, as Ennis was to feel the pleasing warmth and weight of the man's body stretched on top of him.