The Path.11

Drabble: 1200 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

A/N: As you recall, Ennis did not say much during the FNIT. But he thought Plenty! Most of this is Ennis' ragged thoughts that night.

The groundcloth gets tangled up with my boots and drags through the cold ashes in the fire ring and knocks over the coffee pot. I don't care. Too cold to worry about anything but gettin into that warm tent.

I am asleep in less than 30 seconds.

During the night, I have a dream that I am married to Alma, and we are in bed together, snuggled up. She reaches over, takes my hand and pulls my arm around her. I feel the sweet, soft warmth of our baby, there in the bed beside her. I put my hand around the baby's arm and hold it lovingly. The baby opens his blue eyes and smiles at me. . . . and then . . . and then I hear this gasp and the word "Yes!"

That was no baby.

As I come awake, I instinctively pull my hand back and jump up. Groggy as I am, I know that the thing in my hand was no baby. It was a dick. Sure as shit. It was a hot cock, pulsing in my hand. . . and it wadn't mine.

Jack is up too. Both of us sleep-fuzzed but coming fully awake now. As I back away, he pursues. As I back away, he reaches for my face. What is he doing? I remember thinking that I wouldn't throw up if I had to kiss him. But now I'm frozen in terror. I cling to his shirt. When did he take his coat off?

Jack is looking pleadingly into my eyes. He keeps pulling closer. What should I do? If I act on my feelings for him, I can never take it back. My damn dick is filling . . .so ready. This is not happening!

I need a minute. How did I get my hand into his pants? Why isn't he pissed at me? Why is he leaning his forehead on mine and looking at me like I'm his best friend and he doesn't want to lose me? Why is he pullin on me? I'm not pushin him away. I want to hold him. But I don't know what to do. Jesus Christ, I'm so hard. Gotta do something with this. He was hard too. Did I get him hard when I got into his pants?

Oh my fuckin lord, Jack. Jack. Jack. He unbuckles his belt, and opens the top few buttons of his levi's. He wants me. He wants this. Oh baby. I'm jerking his pants down, I see that ass I've wanted so bad. Not the first time I've seen it, but it's the first time it's been on offer.

My zipper's stuck! Damn! Slow down, slow down. Okay, pants open, I'm ready, so ready. I lay my hand on his hip. It belongs there. It's always belonged there, on his skin. He gets in position for me. Oh Jack. I'm pressing up against him, but I can't get in. . . he's tight. I'm afraid of hurting him. So fuckin tight, and hot. Oh Jack. Baby.

Some moisture or lubricant is needed and right now. Spit! I spit in my hand and rub it on my cock; there's not much left to put on his opening. Umnh! I feel him spreading his legs, trying to open wider for me. Oh baby. You want this as much as I do. Still tight, but slowly I begin to enter, and then I'm in.

I might just pass out from this feeling. Best feeling . . . my mind is reeling. Oh, he's pushin back inta me . . think he wants me to start movin. I can't. I need to hold on . . . grab a handful a his shirt . . push hard, pull back . .

Is this okay, Jack? I hope it's good for you, Jack, cause I'm dyin here. I've never known somethin this good existed. . . fuck baby, fuck me! Yeah, like that, move with me. Ungh.

What happened? Why'd you rare up like that and grab my hand? Oh you want more. You want it again, faster. Jesus, Jack. I can't do it like this, too good. . .gonna lose it already. . .

I'm comin. . . I'm comin . . . I'm comin . . . inside of Jack. Inside of a man. I don't want this to ever end. I'm dead, I'm dyin . . I am done, but still tingling . . . but did Jack come too? I reach around and grab him . . still hard. He gasps. Oh baby, I work him fast and strong. In seconds he's shooting. Oh baby. Feels good baby. Feel good Jack?

No way can I hold myself up a second longer. Jack is beginning to sag to the floor, I'm goin down too, right on top of him. So tired. I never knew . . . I never . . . I want to hold him for just a little while. Just a while.

Um? As I begin to wake, my head pounds. Remember drinking a lot. Shit. It's late. Sun's up. I have flashes of a dream; a dream about Jack. In my dream, Jack reaches over and pulls my arm around himself, closing my fingers over his engorged cock.

As I shift to sit up, I realize I have no pants on and I'm sticking to myself.

Oh no, what have I done? It was not a dream. I look over at Jack. He seems to be okay, still sleeping anyway. Suddenly I am filled with dread.

.

More of my dream comes back to me; the scene shifts to my childhood home. My dad's face looms over me, he is scowling and yelling at me . . "die, you filthy faggot! You AND your little boyfriend!" Daddy and his friends are carrying clubs and tire irons. In my dream, I'm nine years old and tear tracks are visible on my dirty face. Jack's wretched body is crumpled in the ravine below.

I shake off the dream and reach down to pull my pants up. Shit. I've ruined everything. Nobody can never know what I've done to Jack, what we've done together. Oh, Jack. I'm so sorry. Wasn't strong enough. Wanted you too bad. Got to keep you safe, Jack.

He starts to stir, and I hurry out. Gotta get up to the sheep, check for predators. And I can't face him. Not after what I've done. I can never let this happen again.

During my morning routine of saddling my horse and checking my supplies and my rifle, my mind is on the night before, how the sweetness was a hundred times better than I could have imagined. I get ready for the day by rote, my mind a million miles away, or rather, a few feet away in that tent.

His halting footsteps approach. I hurt him. Know I did. Can't face any a this. He speaks of supper, a normal thing for him to say, part of our day to day habits. He's trying so hard to let me off the hook for what I done. Oh, Jack. I've ruined everything.

Giddup!

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