The Path.6

Drabble: 1000 words
Genre: Canon { will be A/U later on}
Pairing: Ennis and Jack
Disclaimer: AP created'em, I just play with'em out of love

Almost from the beginning, I felt a connection with Jack. Don't know why, it's never happened to me before. Usually people are just an annoyance I can do without. But he was different.

He blundered into my range of vision, talkin, askin questions, braggin, shootin the shit like we was old friends or somethin. Found out in time that Jack never met a stranger. When he met a person, he expected to like them, and expected they'd like him back. Maybe it wasn't "expected" but "hoped" they'd like him. When that hope didn't work out, Jack would get knocked down, but he always got back up.

His feelins was right out there on the surface. For good or bad, he said it outright. Like the time he told me, "No more beans!" for example.

We'd been up there only a couple or three weeks, and as was already mentioned, I was not the world's greatest cook. I'd fry the livin hell outa whatever we were havin that meal and expected to round out the offering with beans. Beans were easy; open the can and heat. Beans were filling; never needed to go hungry long as you had beans on hand. Beans were tasty;

no extra seasoning required. As the cook, I depended on beans . . . a lot.

When the mules tossed the week's groceries all over hell and back, after that bear interrupted my day dreams, I knew beans was about all we had left. And I was gonna settle for that, for all the reasons mentioned above about beans. But not Jack; no way. I took it on as my mission, to find food suitable for Jack. At the time, I did not question why that was.

I noticed that Jack tried to clean my wound where I cracked my head in the fall from my horse. I wouldn't let him though. More'n anything I was embarrassed. I was a man full grown, and to come back late, limping, bleeding, after losing our week's food supply, I was ashamed; mortified. Didn't want Jack to see me as some loser. Some stumblebum.

Besides all that, that's not what Aguirre was payin me for. He was payin me to run the camp. And by damn, I was gonna run that camp better'n I'd done during the previous twenty-four hours. I was so ashamed of my lack of stewardship. I'd heard that word at the Methodist Church when I went with my folks as a young'un. This was the first time in my life that I felt I'd sinned in that way. And it wadn't gonna happen again. My folks didn't raise no slacker.

The next morning, I caught a couple trout in the river before Jack came down for breakfast. We had fried fish, fried potatoes, fried eggs (but only one apiece, as that's all we had left of the previous weeks supply) and a can a beans each. There wasn't any fruit left, as we usually eat up the cans a peaches or pears by Wednesday. We liked the fruit.

I could tell Jack was pleased with the trout, even though everything was a little bit burnt. Made me feel a bit better. But I was at a loss as to what to feed him for supper. That's when I come up with the idea to shoot him a deer or an elk. Yes, I knew the Game & Fish folks wouldn't look kindly on us baggin a elk, but what Jack needed was more important. Like I said, I didn't question this at the time.

When that elk began to sag to the ground after I'd shot him, I was pleased.

Jack, however, was jumping up and down and yelling! I almost let a smile show, seeing him so happy. But then it happened. He put his hands on me to say we needed to get the elk dressed out before the Game & Fish caught us.

Zing! With his touch, a bolt of electricity shot through me, the likes of which I'd never felt before. It stirred my dick to life right then and there, and got me reaching my hands toward him. No thought in my head about what my excuse would be, I just needed to put my hands on him right then.

Mumbled something about "tired a yer dumbass missin," as I shoved him down to the ground; we was both laughin and enjoyin life.

We got the elk skinned and cleaned. Took us hours to strip it out and get it all hanging to dry. We cooked the choicest cuts on a spit over the fire that night, and ate to our hearts content. We shared the last few sips of Old Rose we had left.

Hours later I was still tingling. After all the blood, and the guts, and the digging so we could bury the innards, I still had that feeling I'd gotten when he put his hands on me. It was then I knew why his wants and his needs came first with me. Shit, this was bad.

This was so very bad, I didn't want to believe it. I kept looking at Jack though, through all that night and he wasn't any different. He hadn't noticed a thing, and yet everything was now different for me.

After Jack had gone back up to the sheep, I tried to sleep but all I could think about was him. I was worse'n a school girl, all moony and shit. I was thinkin about his eyes, his hands, his mouth and other parts a course. I was so hard, I hurt. I'd been half hard all night, and I reached down to rearrange myself. As soon as my hand touched my hot flesh, I moaned right out loud. Still not believing the situation I was in, I gave myself the relief I needed. As my climax came upon me, hard and fast, the name that flew from my lips was "Jack".