Undertow - Secret Santa gift for Chamilet
Title: Undertow
Genre: AU
Rating: NC17
Warnings: None, except for the M/M sex.
Word Count: 1,500
Laramie, WY - August 1967
“Now here comes Lureen Twist, she’s a Texas gal, from down in Childress!” the announcer called. The girls were getting restless, in spite of their balloons and cotton candy-or possibly because of their balloons and cotton candy, but Alma shushed them and they settled down. It was probably about time to call it a day, but Alma enjoyed watching the barrel racing, and Ennis wanted to see at least some of either the bronco busting or the bull riding.
It was nice that they could afford this small vacation, this extended weekend in Laramie to visit the big County Fair. A couple nights in an inexpensive motel and a few restaurant meals meant a lot to Alma, and to the girls as well. Ennis would rather have saved the money toward a ranch of their own some day, but between his job at the power company, and weekends out at the Rafter B, he was doing well. Alma kept talking about getting a part time job as soon as both the girls were in school full time. The extra money would be nice, but it’s a man’s job to support his own family, and maybe there’d be another baby along to postpone the possibility.
Everyone cheered when Lureen-the last rider-made the best time, and Junior begged her Mama and Daddy for a bright red cowgirl outfit just like hers. “Maybe for Christmas,” Alma told her. Ennis understood the strategy: Junior would probably forget about it in a week or so, but, come November, if she was still wanting one. Alma would make the shirt herself, and Santa Claus could probably manage the hat.
Next up was mutton-busting, which both the girls watched avidly. Not surprising for four-year-old Junior, who was only a little younger than some of the contestants. But Jenny was also wildly enthusiastic, and Ennis thought maybe both the girls might be getting rodeo outfits for Christmas.
“And that’s four seconds for Tommy Gaskell, let’s all give him a big hand!”
And he was doing pretty good. Off to a rough start, he’d thought, when they’d had to get married in such a hurry. He’d been counting on saving up some money to get married on with that herding job over the summer, but with Alma expecting by August, that was out of the question. But it worked out okay after all, because at Alma’s suggestion he’d applied for a job with the power company, and to his complete surprise they hired him. Good pay, regular raises, sick leave (not that he’d ever used any of it) and paid vacation time… Yep, doing all right. Maybe he’d rather be working on a ranch, but as a family man he had his obligations and he lived up to them.
And if he sometimes felt a little… something… when a certain kind of man caught his attention… Well, he could just pretend it didn’t matter. Happen, he could pretend it didn’t happen. Because it didn’t matter. Didn’t really mean anything. And didn’t happen that often, anyway. He was a happily married man with two lovely little girls, and maybe someday soon there’d be a baby brother, too. So what did it matter, if once in a while, now and then, he’d feel a little twitch or a little pull or something, like when he’d noticed the good-looking guy who hugged the winning barrel racer? It’s not like he was going to do anything. Not that he’d even want to do… anything…
“First up is Harry Peyton, all the way from Medicine Hat in Alberta Canada, and he’s up on Tornado!” And here was the bull riding.
“Ennis. Ennis. Ennis! ”
“Whu- Huh?” He’d been so caught up in watching the bull riding, he hadn’t even heard Alma talking to him.
“I’m gonna take the girls back to the motel, maybe let em swim in the pool for a while before dinner. Can you get back okay?”
“Uh. Yeah, sure. Good idea.” He handed Alma the keys and gave them all three a quick kiss each. “Careful, now. Watch your step,” he told them absently, and turned his attention back to the event.
Alma looked back for a second as she guided the girls along the flimsy catwalks connecting the open bleachers. Ennis was so caught up in watching that he barely noticed when they left.
There was cleverness to bull riding, and balance, and an instinct for what the animal might do next. But it was the strength of the men that enthralled him-the grip of the hand, the tension in the arm, the flex of the legs…
“Next is Jack Twist from down in Childress, Texas, and he’s ridin Loco-Motion!”
Damn silly name for a bull. Say, wasn’t that the guy who was hugging that barrel racer, Lureen Twist? And she was also-if he remembered right-from Childress, Texas. Must be husband and wife. Or maybe brother and sister? Cousins? Some kind of relation, anyway. Ennis leaned forward to watch. Twist was good, all right, but Loco-Motion had some moves, and Twist was off at about six-and-a-half.
For some reason, Ennis wasn’t as interested in the next ride. His eyes kept wandering over to Jack Twist, who’d ducked under the bleachers and was leaning on a support strut, watching the next rider through the openings under the seats. Ennis seemed to have developed a hard-on, probably, he told himself, because he had to piss, and because sharing the motel room with his daughters had got him backed up for these few days. Maybe he’d take a little walk, maybe get a beer or something.
Just out of curiosity, he slipped into the shadowy spaces under the bleachers, threading his way through the maze of supporting members. He worked his way over to where Jack Twist was standing, figuring that was a good place to watch from. Twist glanced over at him, looked back at the rodeo clowns distracting the bull from a fallen rider, eyed Ennis again questioningly as he tilted his chin toward a large pillar deeper in the shadows. Ennis, dry-throated, just nodded, not sure what he was agreeing to. But when Twist led, he followed. Once behind the pillar, they were out of any direct line of sight. But anyone could find their way under here, even as they had.
The bull rider leaned back against the pillar and started unzipping his jeans. Ennis backed up, panicky, shaking his head. He should leave. He should turn his back and walk away. He should… He shook his head again, but slower, hesitantly, stopped backing, and even took a step forward.
Twist regarded him levelly, eyes glinting a little in the gloom. “What then?” he asked. Ennis could only shake his head again; he didn’t know. “You ain’t ever done this before, have ya?” Twist said softly. Another shake of the head from Ennis. “Okay. C’mere,” gently but firmly. “It’s easy enough.”
Slowly, Ennis moved toward him. One step, another, then another. Taking a shaky breath, he caught Jack’s scent: fresh sweat, bull, dirt, hay, cigarettes… One more step, and one more, and… Jack’s hands reached out and clasped Ennis’ hips, drawing him closer. Something surged up in Ennis, and he gripped Jack’s shoulders and then his face, and they were kissing, lips and tongues and teeth. Jack’s stubble under his fingers and Jack kissing him back hard and Jack’s cock rigid against his own. The constraint of their almost-public meeting kept them quiet. Ennis wanted to moan, wanted to hear Jack moan back, but they could only gasp. Jack was pumping up against him aggressively, hands grabbing Ennis’ ass and pulling him in tighter. Ennis could hear the rasp of their jeans rubbing together. He could feel the heat of Jack’s cock searing through the denim.
“I gotta, I gotta…” Ennis muttered.
“Yeah, yeah! Give!” Jack breathed back.
Then their suppressed grunts came in unison. Ennis was aware of Jack’s cock throbbing against his as he spent himself, feeling like he was struck by lightning.
For a minute, they could only lean against each other and pant, trying to get their breath back.
Then, “Damn!” Jack exclaimed softly. “That was somethin else, friend.”
Ennis wanted to run, wanted to tear himself away and flee and leave this shocking event so far behind that it would be like it had never happened. But there wasn’t any place far away enough for that. He knew that he could leave… And he knew, just suddenly knew that if he did that, he’d be regretting it for the rest of his life.
So when the bull rider lit up a cigarette and offered Ennis one, he took it. And when he stuck out his hand and introduced himself: “Jack Twist,” Ennis responded with his own name: “Ennis. del Mar.”
“Well, nice to know you, Ennis del Mar.”
Gonna be nice to know you, too, Jack Twist, he thought.
Genre: AU
Rating: NC17
Warnings: None, except for the M/M sex.
Word Count: 1,500
Laramie, WY - August 1967
“Now here comes Lureen Twist, she’s a Texas gal, from down in Childress!” the announcer called. The girls were getting restless, in spite of their balloons and cotton candy-or possibly because of their balloons and cotton candy, but Alma shushed them and they settled down. It was probably about time to call it a day, but Alma enjoyed watching the barrel racing, and Ennis wanted to see at least some of either the bronco busting or the bull riding.
It was nice that they could afford this small vacation, this extended weekend in Laramie to visit the big County Fair. A couple nights in an inexpensive motel and a few restaurant meals meant a lot to Alma, and to the girls as well. Ennis would rather have saved the money toward a ranch of their own some day, but between his job at the power company, and weekends out at the Rafter B, he was doing well. Alma kept talking about getting a part time job as soon as both the girls were in school full time. The extra money would be nice, but it’s a man’s job to support his own family, and maybe there’d be another baby along to postpone the possibility.
Everyone cheered when Lureen-the last rider-made the best time, and Junior begged her Mama and Daddy for a bright red cowgirl outfit just like hers. “Maybe for Christmas,” Alma told her. Ennis understood the strategy: Junior would probably forget about it in a week or so, but, come November, if she was still wanting one. Alma would make the shirt herself, and Santa Claus could probably manage the hat.
Next up was mutton-busting, which both the girls watched avidly. Not surprising for four-year-old Junior, who was only a little younger than some of the contestants. But Jenny was also wildly enthusiastic, and Ennis thought maybe both the girls might be getting rodeo outfits for Christmas.
“And that’s four seconds for Tommy Gaskell, let’s all give him a big hand!”
And he was doing pretty good. Off to a rough start, he’d thought, when they’d had to get married in such a hurry. He’d been counting on saving up some money to get married on with that herding job over the summer, but with Alma expecting by August, that was out of the question. But it worked out okay after all, because at Alma’s suggestion he’d applied for a job with the power company, and to his complete surprise they hired him. Good pay, regular raises, sick leave (not that he’d ever used any of it) and paid vacation time… Yep, doing all right. Maybe he’d rather be working on a ranch, but as a family man he had his obligations and he lived up to them.
And if he sometimes felt a little… something… when a certain kind of man caught his attention… Well, he could just pretend it didn’t matter. Happen, he could pretend it didn’t happen. Because it didn’t matter. Didn’t really mean anything. And didn’t happen that often, anyway. He was a happily married man with two lovely little girls, and maybe someday soon there’d be a baby brother, too. So what did it matter, if once in a while, now and then, he’d feel a little twitch or a little pull or something, like when he’d noticed the good-looking guy who hugged the winning barrel racer? It’s not like he was going to do anything. Not that he’d even want to do… anything…
“First up is Harry Peyton, all the way from Medicine Hat in Alberta Canada, and he’s up on Tornado!” And here was the bull riding.
“Ennis. Ennis. Ennis! ”
“Whu- Huh?” He’d been so caught up in watching the bull riding, he hadn’t even heard Alma talking to him.
“I’m gonna take the girls back to the motel, maybe let em swim in the pool for a while before dinner. Can you get back okay?”
“Uh. Yeah, sure. Good idea.” He handed Alma the keys and gave them all three a quick kiss each. “Careful, now. Watch your step,” he told them absently, and turned his attention back to the event.
Alma looked back for a second as she guided the girls along the flimsy catwalks connecting the open bleachers. Ennis was so caught up in watching that he barely noticed when they left.
There was cleverness to bull riding, and balance, and an instinct for what the animal might do next. But it was the strength of the men that enthralled him-the grip of the hand, the tension in the arm, the flex of the legs…
“Next is Jack Twist from down in Childress, Texas, and he’s ridin Loco-Motion!”
Damn silly name for a bull. Say, wasn’t that the guy who was hugging that barrel racer, Lureen Twist? And she was also-if he remembered right-from Childress, Texas. Must be husband and wife. Or maybe brother and sister? Cousins? Some kind of relation, anyway. Ennis leaned forward to watch. Twist was good, all right, but Loco-Motion had some moves, and Twist was off at about six-and-a-half.
For some reason, Ennis wasn’t as interested in the next ride. His eyes kept wandering over to Jack Twist, who’d ducked under the bleachers and was leaning on a support strut, watching the next rider through the openings under the seats. Ennis seemed to have developed a hard-on, probably, he told himself, because he had to piss, and because sharing the motel room with his daughters had got him backed up for these few days. Maybe he’d take a little walk, maybe get a beer or something.
Just out of curiosity, he slipped into the shadowy spaces under the bleachers, threading his way through the maze of supporting members. He worked his way over to where Jack Twist was standing, figuring that was a good place to watch from. Twist glanced over at him, looked back at the rodeo clowns distracting the bull from a fallen rider, eyed Ennis again questioningly as he tilted his chin toward a large pillar deeper in the shadows. Ennis, dry-throated, just nodded, not sure what he was agreeing to. But when Twist led, he followed. Once behind the pillar, they were out of any direct line of sight. But anyone could find their way under here, even as they had.
The bull rider leaned back against the pillar and started unzipping his jeans. Ennis backed up, panicky, shaking his head. He should leave. He should turn his back and walk away. He should… He shook his head again, but slower, hesitantly, stopped backing, and even took a step forward.
Twist regarded him levelly, eyes glinting a little in the gloom. “What then?” he asked. Ennis could only shake his head again; he didn’t know. “You ain’t ever done this before, have ya?” Twist said softly. Another shake of the head from Ennis. “Okay. C’mere,” gently but firmly. “It’s easy enough.”
Slowly, Ennis moved toward him. One step, another, then another. Taking a shaky breath, he caught Jack’s scent: fresh sweat, bull, dirt, hay, cigarettes… One more step, and one more, and… Jack’s hands reached out and clasped Ennis’ hips, drawing him closer. Something surged up in Ennis, and he gripped Jack’s shoulders and then his face, and they were kissing, lips and tongues and teeth. Jack’s stubble under his fingers and Jack kissing him back hard and Jack’s cock rigid against his own. The constraint of their almost-public meeting kept them quiet. Ennis wanted to moan, wanted to hear Jack moan back, but they could only gasp. Jack was pumping up against him aggressively, hands grabbing Ennis’ ass and pulling him in tighter. Ennis could hear the rasp of their jeans rubbing together. He could feel the heat of Jack’s cock searing through the denim.
“I gotta, I gotta…” Ennis muttered.
“Yeah, yeah! Give!” Jack breathed back.
Then their suppressed grunts came in unison. Ennis was aware of Jack’s cock throbbing against his as he spent himself, feeling like he was struck by lightning.
For a minute, they could only lean against each other and pant, trying to get their breath back.
Then, “Damn!” Jack exclaimed softly. “That was somethin else, friend.”
Ennis wanted to run, wanted to tear himself away and flee and leave this shocking event so far behind that it would be like it had never happened. But there wasn’t any place far away enough for that. He knew that he could leave… And he knew, just suddenly knew that if he did that, he’d be regretting it for the rest of his life.
So when the bull rider lit up a cigarette and offered Ennis one, he took it. And when he stuck out his hand and introduced himself: “Jack Twist,” Ennis responded with his own name: “Ennis. del Mar.”
“Well, nice to know you, Ennis del Mar.”
Gonna be nice to know you, too, Jack Twist, he thought.