Author: Lostiawen

E-mail: Lostiawen

Rated: NC-17

Pairing: Ennis/Jack

Summary: Jack can´t stop thinking about Ennis. 

Archive: My site.  All others please ask.

Feedback: Yes, please.

Warnings: angst! If you are one of my regular readers, this is not my usual happy fluffy fic.  Oh, and wanking, too. 

Disclaimer: The characters are the property of Anne Proulx.  The author does not own them and is not seeking to make a profit off their depiction here. 

Author´s Notes: My first BBM ficlet.  Have to work out those angst turtles. 

Posted January 29th, 2006. 

The first time young Jack Twist saw a calf being branded, he wondered how the critter could stand it; being roped and held down while someone´s mark was burned into its hide. 

He thought about it night and day for what seemed like forever, trying to figure it out. Eventually, something else grabbed his attention, but he never forgot about the calf. When things were quiet, his mind wandered back to the struggling animal, remembering it like it was yesterday -- the confusion and panic in its eyes, the smell of cooking meat as the hot iron was applied, its bawl of pain. 

That all changed after Brokeback. 

Nowadays, all Jack can think about now is Ennis. Every time he closes his eyes, he can see Ennis´ laughing face. Breaking through the wall that the other man held over his feelings had been his greatest triumph, better than anything he had done in the rodeo. 

And now he´s paying the price. Ennis haunts Jack´s every waking moment, reminding him of what can never be. It´s been months since that wonderful summer, months since Ennis made it clear that what they had on Brokeback ended when the job was over. 

But Jack can´t stop thinking about him, can´t stop wishing Ennis was here. Try as he might, his mind won´t listen to him and keeps on replaying bits and pieces of the summer repeatedly; taunting him with what he can´t ever have. 

Since the ghosts won´t stay quiet, Jack decides to drown them in whiskey instead. After drinking almost a whole bottle of Red Turkey, Jack stumbles back to his lonely room and throws himself onto his bed, hoping to have a decent night´s sleep without any memories. 

As he drifts off, he swears that he could feel Ennis´ warm body pressing against his back, the rasp of stubble brushing against his ear. His mouth waters as he imagines Ennis´ hard erection rubbing into the cleft of his ass. 

Moaning, Jack remembered how he would push back, grinding his hips in small circles until Ennis growled and hauled him onto his hands and knees. His jeans would be unfastened and shoved down as quick as lightning before Ennis pushed forward, impaling Jack on his saliva slick cock. 

Jack´s erection strains against his jeans at the memories, putting an immense amount of pressure on the denim. Cursing up a blue streak, he can´t believe that his cock is still responding after he soaked up enough whiskey to kill several men. He tries thinking of something, anything else, but he keeps coming back to the tent -- remembering the reek of dirt, sweat, and come permeating the air while Ennis fucked him, hard thighs banging against his own, both of them slamming together without any quarter given. 

He tries to kill the demons plaguing him, the husky ghost-whispers in his ear, but they just won´t quit. The more he resists, the more he can almost feel Ennis grabbing him. Almost taste the cigarettes and whiskey on Ennis´ tongue. 

Sighing in resignation, Jack pops the button on his jeans open, growling in relief as he reaches in to squeeze his throbbing dick. He tugs on his erection, remembering how Ennis would thrust into him hard and fast, fingernails digging into his hips. The crescent marks would still be there the next morning, a fond reminder of the night before. 

Not that Jack was ever passive. He would urge Ennis on, loving how he could break down the other man´s reserve, strip it away until the two of them were going at it until their muscles were burning, until they could barely see because they were blinded by the sweat dripping into their eyes. 

"Yes..." Jack moans, his hand blurring over his cock. He´s leaking steadily, humping the tunnel of his hand as he replays bits and pieces from all of the times they´ve fucked. 

The hiss Ennis would make as he slammed in, his eyes darkening as his passion climbed higher; strong, callused hands mapping every inch of Jack´s skin...

As Jack flicks his thumb over the head of his shaft, a final image skitters through his mind -- Ennis arching back, eyes screwed shut in complete bliss, mouthing Jack´s name over and over as he comes hard; his body shaking with violent tremors. 

"Ennis!"  Jack screams, bucking into his fist before he climaxes, his entire body quivering while hot threads of pearly liquid spurt over his fingers. 

He lets himself fly, losing himself in the bliss of his orgasm before he comes crashing back down, back to his cold room. Sighing, Jack wipes his hand on the sheets and undresses, knowing that he´s going to toss and turn well into the night, feeling the ghost touches of Ennis´ fingers. 

And now Jack is envious of the calf. After a brief bit of pain, the brand never troubles the animal again. Ennis has left a mark for all time, one that Jack can never forget no matter how hard he tries. An open, painful wound that will never heal. 

THE END