(no subject)
Title: I Can’t Lose You Again.
Chapter 2
This is the sequel to “Mexico”, ten days after its end.
Disclaimer: the talented Mrs Proulx owns the original story and characters.
Special thanks to my dear beta Carol and Paula, and to Onefreetoroam for the title idea.
Jack drove ahead of Ennis along roads getting narrower, following the shape of the hills that interrupted the platform of the plain. Nobody was on the road, they met only a black truck at a gas station.
When at a small crossroad, the asphalt gave way to the dust and they entered into a large depression.
Jack turned suddenly to the right following, for a minute or so, a small path along a dried river, whose banks were lined with some trees. He turned the engine off before opening the driver’s door. Ennis copied his actions but remained in the truck, watching his man come toward him.
He was ready to speak and complain about the unplanned stop when he saw something serious in Jack’s eyes.
Desire.
Hunger.
Love.
Jack approached the older truck and put a hand on Ennis’ knee, feeling the heat from that strong body.
The other hand went to Ennis' shoulder and softly caressed the bones underneath the thick denim fabric.
Jack was looking at him and Ennis felt weak under that gaze, like a young girl facing her real first crush.
Ennis closed his eyes and didn’t dare to breathe, it was intoxicating to have Jack again so close, to feel his touch and smell his unique musk.
A mix of man’s cologne, the beer drunk with Peter and the peculiar taste of Jack’s own skin after a long drive under the summer sky.
The hand on his thigh moved up a little, Jack’s finger brushed against Ennis’ crotch that reacted and became hard. Ennis tried to speak.
“Jack, we cannot...”
Jack’s head inclined more to find the right angle and Ennis’ - despite his feeble attempts of protest - lowered a little, until their lips touched briefly, sending a shot to their brains. Soon teeth crashed and lips became swollen while Ennis’ arms moved to clasp Jack at his waist to keep him close, then closer, until Jack had to move back to breathe.
“We cannot what?” Jack asked seductively. “This path leads to the old mill, it is abandoned since the river dried.”
Ennis looked briefly around - searching for proof of Jack’s words - then grasped Jack’s belt and opened it, not caring if the buckle was grazing his hand, opening the fly of the trousers, putting his hand inside in search of Jack’s cock. His own was shouting so he grabbed and pulled Jack’s ass until their crotches rubbed together.
Jack was more than eager to comply and with their trousers at their knees they started to dry hump half laying on the truck’s seats.
Nobody was around, Ennis took Jack’s face in his hands and in a low voice, full of lust, asked.
“Make love to me.”
Jack simply nodded, words were impossible for the moment. Ennis wasn’t a man inclined to express his desires with words, he was better using his hands, his eyes or his head.
During the years Jack learned how to read his lover’s silence and although he would have iked to hear more that raspy voice, he accepted - as usual - what Ennis was willing to offer.
Now there was surely progress; Ennis had decided to follow him to Lightning Flat and Jack was sure his man wasn’t used to changing his mind too often.
But it become impossible for Jack to think clearly while two large hands were massaging his back, forming slow, lazy circles that made his skin tickle. He was lying on the seats, seeing nothing but dark leather. The hands went lower, caressing the cheeks slowly, so slowly, reaching with long, expert fingers to find the pleasure point. Jack wanted to feel Ennis inside him soon, but he was not inclined to spoil the moment.
Ennis was touching the right places and Jack turned his head to have his attention. They kissed again, more frantically, trying to conquer each other’s mouth. Both hard as rocks, Ennis worked first one, then two fingers inside Jack. They had no lube immediately available, so he didn’t want to hurt Jack like their first time.
When he finally entered Jack, they started moving together, forgetting the world outside, Mexican trips, their families, the need for work.
What was important was to be together, to breathe together for a few minutes, to cancel the reality while making love.
Claire Twist was sitting on the front porch of her house with mending work in her hands.
She was waiting for her son like she did for the most part of her life, especially since Jack took root in Texas and had a boy there. Her patience made the wait less hard.
When Jack first left in 1963 for a summer as a shepherd, she was sure he’d be back soon after finishing the job but in 1964, when he headed for Texas, rodeo season and all, Claire started worrying a lot about her boy.
Now he was coming home - divorced and without work but not alone. There was a friend, Jack said briefly on the phone. Claire was deeply surprised; Jack was a lonely boy and had always been so, never bringing friends at home during junior and high school.
The reason was his father, he explained one day while they were chatting, but Claire felt deeply sorry for the sad youth of her only child.
Jack was afraid his friends could be despised by Twist Senior and he was sure he would be addressed with cutting words in front of them.
After a classic Bob Seeger’s song, the radio gave the 4 pm sign and Claire was happy; her husband was working somewhere in the ranch as usual and she hoped to see Jack alone first, wanting to meet also his friend. She imagined it could be the famous Ennis Jack so often talked about, remembering their summer together.
Her hopes were fulfilled ten minutes later when a grey cloud started from south following the way of their private road.
Claire stood up immediately, throwing her mending work on the basket. The brilliant silver light became Jack’s truck, a model she didn’t recognize, bigger and more sparkling than before.
Jack went down in a hurry and threw himself into his mother’s waiting arms.
It was good as always to be with Mom, she smelled of food, lavender and youth. His youth that started and died in that same place twelve years ago.
Ennis slowly left the truck, his eyes taking note of the surroundings; the small house with stained walls needing a good repainting, the barn - he felt in his gut that it was quite deserted, there were no usual signs of horses or mules or cows - the fields of dry soil.
Ennis spoke few words, but that didn’t mean he was unable to speak with his eyes - Jack had lots of memories about this. He was there for his new job, he repeated to himself over and over, to forget what happened near the old mill.
They washed with the remaining water of the fountain outside the mill, but Ennis was sure Jack’s perfume was impressed on his skin.
It was crazy and dangerous, but he wondered if somebody else could smell it.
Ennis took his time to make a mental note of what the ranch needed, while the couple continued their hugging. Jack was speaking in his mothers’ ear and she was smiling, a genuine smile that stirred a long suppressed memory in Ennis’ brain.
His own mother calling Ennis and his sister from the kitchen door at dinnertime, Mary running faster with her thin legs towards her to receive a big hug, while Ennis purposely ran slower and remained outside watching the scene.
He felt an outsider also now, Mrs. Twist was drowning in Jack’s embrace, that man was taller than his mother and his arms easily captured the small frame of the older woman.
Not so old, Ennis thought, Claire was maybe in her early sixties, with hair still dark and beautiful hands, that were now caressing Jack’s shoulder like Ennis used to do when they were together in the wilderness.
He felt a sting of jealousy because Claire had the right to freely touch Jack, it was mixed with rage for the confusion still inside him.
Ennis erased that thought as fast as he could, because it was a product of the voice that was still repeating him to run away from such a dangerous situation.
Time slowed, then stopped when Jack turned and looked at him with a expression so happy that Ennis’ heart skipped a beat.
He never had never seen Jack so complete, so at peace with himself before. He never had never seen Jack at home.
In that moment Ennis understood that Texas was never - could never, nor with a wife, neither with a son - be Jack’s home. Brokeback mountain was closer to home than Texas, but it wasn’t the real thing.
Jack’s words sounded like shots in Ennis’ ears when he spoke.
“Come here, Ennis, this is my Mom. She wants to know you.”
Ennis moved hesitantly, unsure at first, then suddenly worried about his appearance. He swiftly tucked the shirt into his trousers, passed a hand over his hair, holding his hat in the other.
He wet his lips with a flick of tongue, they felt like a desert, like a man full of fear.
“Good morning Mrs Twist” he croaked, wanting to offer a hand, afraid to crunch Claire’s little hands in his strong grip.
Claire did it without hesitation and Ennis carefully took the proffered hand, feeling it smooth and soft.
His eyes lingered on the floor, too timid to focus into the grey-green pools that were looking for his face. Claire needed to see the man that lead home her son. Her dream was taking solid roots in front of her, this time for good, she hoped for this with all her heart.
“Welcome home, Ennis.” she said leading them both inside the house.
TBC
Please add your opinion.
Chapter 2
This is the sequel to “Mexico”, ten days after its end.
Disclaimer: the talented Mrs Proulx owns the original story and characters.
Special thanks to my dear beta Carol and Paula, and to Onefreetoroam for the title idea.
Jack drove ahead of Ennis along roads getting narrower, following the shape of the hills that interrupted the platform of the plain. Nobody was on the road, they met only a black truck at a gas station.
When at a small crossroad, the asphalt gave way to the dust and they entered into a large depression.
Jack turned suddenly to the right following, for a minute or so, a small path along a dried river, whose banks were lined with some trees. He turned the engine off before opening the driver’s door. Ennis copied his actions but remained in the truck, watching his man come toward him.
He was ready to speak and complain about the unplanned stop when he saw something serious in Jack’s eyes.
Desire.
Hunger.
Love.
Jack approached the older truck and put a hand on Ennis’ knee, feeling the heat from that strong body.
The other hand went to Ennis' shoulder and softly caressed the bones underneath the thick denim fabric.
Jack was looking at him and Ennis felt weak under that gaze, like a young girl facing her real first crush.
Ennis closed his eyes and didn’t dare to breathe, it was intoxicating to have Jack again so close, to feel his touch and smell his unique musk.
A mix of man’s cologne, the beer drunk with Peter and the peculiar taste of Jack’s own skin after a long drive under the summer sky.
The hand on his thigh moved up a little, Jack’s finger brushed against Ennis’ crotch that reacted and became hard. Ennis tried to speak.
“Jack, we cannot...”
Jack’s head inclined more to find the right angle and Ennis’ - despite his feeble attempts of protest - lowered a little, until their lips touched briefly, sending a shot to their brains. Soon teeth crashed and lips became swollen while Ennis’ arms moved to clasp Jack at his waist to keep him close, then closer, until Jack had to move back to breathe.
“We cannot what?” Jack asked seductively. “This path leads to the old mill, it is abandoned since the river dried.”
Ennis looked briefly around - searching for proof of Jack’s words - then grasped Jack’s belt and opened it, not caring if the buckle was grazing his hand, opening the fly of the trousers, putting his hand inside in search of Jack’s cock. His own was shouting so he grabbed and pulled Jack’s ass until their crotches rubbed together.
Jack was more than eager to comply and with their trousers at their knees they started to dry hump half laying on the truck’s seats.
Nobody was around, Ennis took Jack’s face in his hands and in a low voice, full of lust, asked.
“Make love to me.”
Jack simply nodded, words were impossible for the moment. Ennis wasn’t a man inclined to express his desires with words, he was better using his hands, his eyes or his head.
During the years Jack learned how to read his lover’s silence and although he would have iked to hear more that raspy voice, he accepted - as usual - what Ennis was willing to offer.
Now there was surely progress; Ennis had decided to follow him to Lightning Flat and Jack was sure his man wasn’t used to changing his mind too often.
But it become impossible for Jack to think clearly while two large hands were massaging his back, forming slow, lazy circles that made his skin tickle. He was lying on the seats, seeing nothing but dark leather. The hands went lower, caressing the cheeks slowly, so slowly, reaching with long, expert fingers to find the pleasure point. Jack wanted to feel Ennis inside him soon, but he was not inclined to spoil the moment.
Ennis was touching the right places and Jack turned his head to have his attention. They kissed again, more frantically, trying to conquer each other’s mouth. Both hard as rocks, Ennis worked first one, then two fingers inside Jack. They had no lube immediately available, so he didn’t want to hurt Jack like their first time.
When he finally entered Jack, they started moving together, forgetting the world outside, Mexican trips, their families, the need for work.
What was important was to be together, to breathe together for a few minutes, to cancel the reality while making love.
Claire Twist was sitting on the front porch of her house with mending work in her hands.
She was waiting for her son like she did for the most part of her life, especially since Jack took root in Texas and had a boy there. Her patience made the wait less hard.
When Jack first left in 1963 for a summer as a shepherd, she was sure he’d be back soon after finishing the job but in 1964, when he headed for Texas, rodeo season and all, Claire started worrying a lot about her boy.
Now he was coming home - divorced and without work but not alone. There was a friend, Jack said briefly on the phone. Claire was deeply surprised; Jack was a lonely boy and had always been so, never bringing friends at home during junior and high school.
The reason was his father, he explained one day while they were chatting, but Claire felt deeply sorry for the sad youth of her only child.
Jack was afraid his friends could be despised by Twist Senior and he was sure he would be addressed with cutting words in front of them.
After a classic Bob Seeger’s song, the radio gave the 4 pm sign and Claire was happy; her husband was working somewhere in the ranch as usual and she hoped to see Jack alone first, wanting to meet also his friend. She imagined it could be the famous Ennis Jack so often talked about, remembering their summer together.
Her hopes were fulfilled ten minutes later when a grey cloud started from south following the way of their private road.
Claire stood up immediately, throwing her mending work on the basket. The brilliant silver light became Jack’s truck, a model she didn’t recognize, bigger and more sparkling than before.
Jack went down in a hurry and threw himself into his mother’s waiting arms.
It was good as always to be with Mom, she smelled of food, lavender and youth. His youth that started and died in that same place twelve years ago.
Ennis slowly left the truck, his eyes taking note of the surroundings; the small house with stained walls needing a good repainting, the barn - he felt in his gut that it was quite deserted, there were no usual signs of horses or mules or cows - the fields of dry soil.
Ennis spoke few words, but that didn’t mean he was unable to speak with his eyes - Jack had lots of memories about this. He was there for his new job, he repeated to himself over and over, to forget what happened near the old mill.
They washed with the remaining water of the fountain outside the mill, but Ennis was sure Jack’s perfume was impressed on his skin.
It was crazy and dangerous, but he wondered if somebody else could smell it.
Ennis took his time to make a mental note of what the ranch needed, while the couple continued their hugging. Jack was speaking in his mothers’ ear and she was smiling, a genuine smile that stirred a long suppressed memory in Ennis’ brain.
His own mother calling Ennis and his sister from the kitchen door at dinnertime, Mary running faster with her thin legs towards her to receive a big hug, while Ennis purposely ran slower and remained outside watching the scene.
He felt an outsider also now, Mrs. Twist was drowning in Jack’s embrace, that man was taller than his mother and his arms easily captured the small frame of the older woman.
Not so old, Ennis thought, Claire was maybe in her early sixties, with hair still dark and beautiful hands, that were now caressing Jack’s shoulder like Ennis used to do when they were together in the wilderness.
He felt a sting of jealousy because Claire had the right to freely touch Jack, it was mixed with rage for the confusion still inside him.
Ennis erased that thought as fast as he could, because it was a product of the voice that was still repeating him to run away from such a dangerous situation.
Time slowed, then stopped when Jack turned and looked at him with a expression so happy that Ennis’ heart skipped a beat.
He never had never seen Jack so complete, so at peace with himself before. He never had never seen Jack at home.
In that moment Ennis understood that Texas was never - could never, nor with a wife, neither with a son - be Jack’s home. Brokeback mountain was closer to home than Texas, but it wasn’t the real thing.
Jack’s words sounded like shots in Ennis’ ears when he spoke.
“Come here, Ennis, this is my Mom. She wants to know you.”
Ennis moved hesitantly, unsure at first, then suddenly worried about his appearance. He swiftly tucked the shirt into his trousers, passed a hand over his hair, holding his hat in the other.
He wet his lips with a flick of tongue, they felt like a desert, like a man full of fear.
“Good morning Mrs Twist” he croaked, wanting to offer a hand, afraid to crunch Claire’s little hands in his strong grip.
Claire did it without hesitation and Ennis carefully took the proffered hand, feeling it smooth and soft.
His eyes lingered on the floor, too timid to focus into the grey-green pools that were looking for his face. Claire needed to see the man that lead home her son. Her dream was taking solid roots in front of her, this time for good, she hoped for this with all her heart.
“Welcome home, Ennis.” she said leading them both inside the house.
TBC
Please add your opinion.