(no subject)
Found a fragment of a story I had started long ago. Having opened it, a passing Muse sat on my shoulder long enough to finish it then flitted away, I guess to inspire someone else.
No inspiration on the title though.
Title: Unnamed
Pairing: E/J
Rating: G
Disclaimer: All credit to Annie Proulx
Jack had gone a little out of his way fixing supper for Ennis that night thinking he might enjoy something more than the usual same old boring bean meals. He’d had to be real creative about it. So he was kinda excited for Ennis to get down from the sheep.
But supper sat and Jack waited…and then waited some more. He finally ate some of the cold food, mumbling to himself all the time, occasionally throwing in some creative new name to call Ennis.
Then there came the cracking of branches and the sounds of horse and rider nearing the camp. It was late now, dark already. Jack thought that Ennis better damn well have a good excuse or he’d drag him off that horse to the ground and beat on him.
A lot of his anger evaporated when he saw Ennis guide his horse to where the other was tied…and then just sit there, doing nothing. He didn’t get down, he didn’t move. He just sat there with his chin on his chest, the reins in his hands.
Jack took a couple of steps.
“Ennis?” Ennis just sat there, head still down.
“Ennis, what’s the matter?”
Finally, Ennis lifted his head and looked around a bit like he didn’t even know where he was. He ran his hand across his face then reached up and pulled his jacket close because of the chill in the air now that the sun had gone down.
He got off his horse still seeming like he was off somewhere else. Jack walked up to him and put his hand on Ennis’ shoulder. Startled, Ennis turned to face Jack.
“Jack…hey. Uh, whatcha doin? Sorry, looks like I’m late. Wasn’t payin’ attention to the time.”
“Ennis, it’s dark. How can you not notice that?”
“I’m sorry.” Ennis put his head down. Jack just stared.
Ennis turned from Jack to unsaddle and care for his horse. Jack, confused, stepped back to the fire and started heating some of the leftover supper, mumbling to himself again.
All day Ennis had been in a daze, preoccupied with feelings and thoughts foreign to him. He sat near the cat-piss tent blind to sheep or sky or mountains. He was lost in Jack…his scent, his warmth, his laugh…but mostly his touch…tight and gripping like when he demanded, “harder, Ennis, harder,”…and then when the fireworks and stars had faded, brushing softly over his back, his neck, through his hair while he whispered words Ennis had never had spoken to him before.
All day he could feel Jack near him, inside him. His mind would wander and he’d jump up hearing Jack behind him but he was never there. He’d walk around realizing that he’d been talking to Jack for some time.
The tight knot in his chest was Jack. The tremors that ran through his muscles were Jack. The wind that blew softly against his skin…Jack.
Confusion and guilt wracked him. Ain’t supposed to be like this, Jack…everybody knows it just ain’t right…but…you...you... Can’t think…can’t forget…you.
Occasionally his training from childhood would rear its head and he’d storm around cussing Jack to hell or worse for bringing this…thing…on him, this pain, this longing, this need that he’d never known he had…a need no real man should ever have rise inside him…a need to haunt him and twist his thoughts and feelings around.
He’d run to his horse determined to find Jack and beat him for making him feel this pain…then he’d drop to his knees and cry, wanting Jack close, skin to skin, lips to lips, breath to breath.
Toward the evening he began to think of Jack in more tender thoughts. He thought of how Jack was always there to comfort him, to hold him and he thought of how he’d never had anyone to do that for him…except his mother...one memory in particular. He’d been young and fallen off a fence. Crying, he went to his mother…only cause his daddy was gone and he wouldn’t be called a sissy for doing it…and she sat next to him on the couch and he laid his head in her lap while she hummed a song to him, stroking his hair the whole time.
And Jack was like that.
Jack watched Ennis walk toward the fire and stand for a moment, hands toward the flames since it was cold that night. He had already prepared a plate of food for Ennis, holding it out to him until he noticed it.
Ennis took his hat off and sat to eat at the log near the fire, Jack sitting, as was their habit now, to the right of him. Ennis ate slowly, quietly, not looking at Jack. But Jack watched him, fear mixed with his own confusion. He was afraid Ennis was going to pull away…he didn’t want to think of that or anything else that would take Ennis away from him. Jack took another swallow of the whiskey he’d been holding since Ennis sat down.
Ennis finished his food and placed the plate down next to the fire. He sat with his elbows on his knees staring at the fire.
Jack had to break this silence, this excruciating silence. But he knew not to push Ennis as skittish as he got at times like this.
“Some whiskey, Ennis?” as he offered the bottle. He made sure that his shoulder leaned slightly into Ennis’, that he sat close so Ennis’d know he was there.
Ennis looked at the whiskey and Jack’s hand for a moment then reached out and put his hand over both for a second before he took the whiskey. Jack could feel Ennis’ hand shaking.
Ennis took a big swig, breathed, took another. Jack waited for a moment knowing that talking wouldn’t get him anywhere.
He reached over and ran his hand through the hair on the back of Ennis’ head, trying to calm what he knew to be panic.
Before Jack could do more, Ennis leaned over and laid his head in Jack’s lap, pulling his legs up. Jack, too stunned to move, sat frozen lest he break this special, precious moment.
He reached tenderly toward Ennis’ head and ran his fingers through his hair. Quietly he began to hum a tune, something he made up on the spot. He could feel Ennis begin to relax.
Ennis reached up and took Jack’s hand drawing it down closer to his chest, holding it with both hands for comfort, to reassure himself that Jack was there and wasn’t going anywhere.
Jack sat humming softly feeling so sad for this man and the life he’d led, the things he’d had to go through, yet exhilarated that Ennis could come to him this way, asking for comfort like this.
Jack stayed there long after Ennis had fallen asleep.
No inspiration on the title though.
Title: Unnamed
Pairing: E/J
Rating: G
Disclaimer: All credit to Annie Proulx
Jack had gone a little out of his way fixing supper for Ennis that night thinking he might enjoy something more than the usual same old boring bean meals. He’d had to be real creative about it. So he was kinda excited for Ennis to get down from the sheep.
But supper sat and Jack waited…and then waited some more. He finally ate some of the cold food, mumbling to himself all the time, occasionally throwing in some creative new name to call Ennis.
Then there came the cracking of branches and the sounds of horse and rider nearing the camp. It was late now, dark already. Jack thought that Ennis better damn well have a good excuse or he’d drag him off that horse to the ground and beat on him.
A lot of his anger evaporated when he saw Ennis guide his horse to where the other was tied…and then just sit there, doing nothing. He didn’t get down, he didn’t move. He just sat there with his chin on his chest, the reins in his hands.
Jack took a couple of steps.
“Ennis?” Ennis just sat there, head still down.
“Ennis, what’s the matter?”
Finally, Ennis lifted his head and looked around a bit like he didn’t even know where he was. He ran his hand across his face then reached up and pulled his jacket close because of the chill in the air now that the sun had gone down.
He got off his horse still seeming like he was off somewhere else. Jack walked up to him and put his hand on Ennis’ shoulder. Startled, Ennis turned to face Jack.
“Jack…hey. Uh, whatcha doin? Sorry, looks like I’m late. Wasn’t payin’ attention to the time.”
“Ennis, it’s dark. How can you not notice that?”
“I’m sorry.” Ennis put his head down. Jack just stared.
Ennis turned from Jack to unsaddle and care for his horse. Jack, confused, stepped back to the fire and started heating some of the leftover supper, mumbling to himself again.
All day Ennis had been in a daze, preoccupied with feelings and thoughts foreign to him. He sat near the cat-piss tent blind to sheep or sky or mountains. He was lost in Jack…his scent, his warmth, his laugh…but mostly his touch…tight and gripping like when he demanded, “harder, Ennis, harder,”…and then when the fireworks and stars had faded, brushing softly over his back, his neck, through his hair while he whispered words Ennis had never had spoken to him before.
All day he could feel Jack near him, inside him. His mind would wander and he’d jump up hearing Jack behind him but he was never there. He’d walk around realizing that he’d been talking to Jack for some time.
The tight knot in his chest was Jack. The tremors that ran through his muscles were Jack. The wind that blew softly against his skin…Jack.
Confusion and guilt wracked him. Ain’t supposed to be like this, Jack…everybody knows it just ain’t right…but…you...you... Can’t think…can’t forget…you.
Occasionally his training from childhood would rear its head and he’d storm around cussing Jack to hell or worse for bringing this…thing…on him, this pain, this longing, this need that he’d never known he had…a need no real man should ever have rise inside him…a need to haunt him and twist his thoughts and feelings around.
He’d run to his horse determined to find Jack and beat him for making him feel this pain…then he’d drop to his knees and cry, wanting Jack close, skin to skin, lips to lips, breath to breath.
Toward the evening he began to think of Jack in more tender thoughts. He thought of how Jack was always there to comfort him, to hold him and he thought of how he’d never had anyone to do that for him…except his mother...one memory in particular. He’d been young and fallen off a fence. Crying, he went to his mother…only cause his daddy was gone and he wouldn’t be called a sissy for doing it…and she sat next to him on the couch and he laid his head in her lap while she hummed a song to him, stroking his hair the whole time.
And Jack was like that.
Jack watched Ennis walk toward the fire and stand for a moment, hands toward the flames since it was cold that night. He had already prepared a plate of food for Ennis, holding it out to him until he noticed it.
Ennis took his hat off and sat to eat at the log near the fire, Jack sitting, as was their habit now, to the right of him. Ennis ate slowly, quietly, not looking at Jack. But Jack watched him, fear mixed with his own confusion. He was afraid Ennis was going to pull away…he didn’t want to think of that or anything else that would take Ennis away from him. Jack took another swallow of the whiskey he’d been holding since Ennis sat down.
Ennis finished his food and placed the plate down next to the fire. He sat with his elbows on his knees staring at the fire.
Jack had to break this silence, this excruciating silence. But he knew not to push Ennis as skittish as he got at times like this.
“Some whiskey, Ennis?” as he offered the bottle. He made sure that his shoulder leaned slightly into Ennis’, that he sat close so Ennis’d know he was there.
Ennis looked at the whiskey and Jack’s hand for a moment then reached out and put his hand over both for a second before he took the whiskey. Jack could feel Ennis’ hand shaking.
Ennis took a big swig, breathed, took another. Jack waited for a moment knowing that talking wouldn’t get him anywhere.
He reached over and ran his hand through the hair on the back of Ennis’ head, trying to calm what he knew to be panic.
Before Jack could do more, Ennis leaned over and laid his head in Jack’s lap, pulling his legs up. Jack, too stunned to move, sat frozen lest he break this special, precious moment.
He reached tenderly toward Ennis’ head and ran his fingers through his hair. Quietly he began to hum a tune, something he made up on the spot. He could feel Ennis begin to relax.
Ennis reached up and took Jack’s hand drawing it down closer to his chest, holding it with both hands for comfort, to reassure himself that Jack was there and wasn’t going anywhere.
Jack sat humming softly feeling so sad for this man and the life he’d led, the things he’d had to go through, yet exhilarated that Ennis could come to him this way, asking for comfort like this.
Jack stayed there long after Ennis had fallen asleep.