bluegreyclouds

bluegreyclouds

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One Shot; One Day

[Dec. 2nd, 2006|04:19 am]

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Current Location

Maryland

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Title One Day

Pairing erm...Jack always thinks about Ennis.

Disclaimer This whole shibang belongs to AP, for whom all this shit would not even be written. She is my goddess of goddesses, doi. Guh, I'm drunk, after being sober for a month, long live sobriety.

Comments Oh, for the love of god, please.

( One Shot )

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One-Shot: 461 Words	[Oct. 13th, 2006\|03:17 am]
Title: Silent Communication Pairing Jack and Ennis DisclaimerYeah, Jack and Ennis belong to the incomparable Annie Proulx. FeedbackOh please ( One Shot )
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(no subject)	[Sep. 12th, 2006\|01:47 am]
He saw Jack wobbling in the early evening, hands in his pocket standing by the fire. His back was full and breathing in a monotone motion, head down looking at the ground. He wanted to pummel Jack to the ground, but the sway of Jack was different, the sleep approaching and all he wanted to do now was give him one hug before he left, the sheep needed their tending. Felt it might be girly, to just give him a hug and a nudge that he’d be off to the herd soon. But, he wanted to do it, and he did, gingerly came up behind him and without thinking expressed the words his mother said so long ago, ‘you’re sleeping like a horse on you’re feet.” He never expected Jack to melt to his touch, though Jack had done so many times, and this time felt the sweetest. Jack let him in, arm around his chest, thumb stroked his color, back and forth. All things felt more than sweet, Ennis felt in a world of belonging. All things right in the world were confined to this moment, swelling sexless, hunger no amount of sex would feel more perfect. Ennis didn’t want to leave, wanted to stay, wanted to feel Jack’s strength push back against him in a sleep filled need. In no time of his nineteen years of living did he ever feel so right, ever feel so complete. But, he needed to get back to the heard, thumb still rubbed against Jack’s color, wool soft, no softer however, than Jack’s own flesh. *** Ennis looked down as dawn closed into darkness, and spotted the orange glow of the fire. He slowly turned from the hypnotic fire and stared upon the ever present, sparkling northern star. The twinkle of the star felt like the livelihood of his heart, beating with every second to the sound and thought of Jack. Didn’t know where it came from, or where it would go, but right now, after that hug, after that feeling of complete, he didn’t know how he’d come down the mountain. *** “How’d you sleep up there?” Jack charmed in half way through their can of beans. “Not bad, saw a huge coyote.” “Fuckers get hungry at odd hours of the night” Ennis’ cock twitched at those words, “yup,” his eyes lingered on Jack longer than he intended, but Jack caught on. “Yeah, they do” Day break approached, the sun brightly shining and Jack got up, hadn’t finished his beans, never really ever wanted them, was standing in front of Ennis. The pools of blue ringed around the black dominance of lust as Jack gazed into his eyes. The green, wool jacket dropped at his feet as he gazed upon Ennis, knew what he wanted and Ennis was hard enough and wanted beyond anything he’d ever cared for in his life, to grab on for dear life and let the tide overflow him. In the light of life, in the air of belaboring melancholy, never had the pure essence of feeling ever been poured upon Ennis. Never had so much thought, and not a thought at all, been put into one thing. Jack’s dark brown hair was tousled at Ennis’ touch, his cock stood straight up at Ennis’ gaze, and Jack’s whole being was at Ennis’ will and never did Ennis feel so much power and so much weakness than at this moment, the very notion that Jack would be there, just be there. It was a euphoria Ennis never wanted to rid himself of. But, summer would end. The mountain would roll into a dream. Ennis knew this. He was a pragmatic man and he knew this. Had to separate Jack from reality, never the both should meet.
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Streets of LA	[Sep. 8th, 2006\|03:09 am]
He walked to his car, air light, the music normally blasting Frank Sinatra in the parking structure was dead silent; must be rewinding the daily soundtrack. As he got into his car, he turned the radio off, wondered why his mood was that of strange, wasn’t feeling normal, something off kilter abound. He rolled down his window and let the cool air come into the car. As he made his way around the parking structure, grey and filled with expensive cars. The complex engineering was torture to get out in a quick way and while doing so he just felt something odd. The CBS studio wouldn’t be shooting anything this late at night, but he heard a microphone and a deep voice spattering on about something he couldn’t understand. He faintly heard people talking in the background, and he heard distant music, Greek if he understood correctly. He kept driving, taking in the sparking lights of the city, the rich houses laid so beautifully against the hills. It wasn’t the city that made him question his life, but he pondered his life, and city made it capable. The lights never shut off, yellow in the distance, just twinkling, sharing their glow. He hit the lower lever, pulled out his validated ticket, paid his six dollars and was allowed to exit. He squinted at nothing in particular; still entranced by the off mood he was feeling. The Greek music was heard, now farther away, the distance voices and laughter were felt, and his mood deepened. He now exited the famous Farmer’s Market, headed home to his the small apartment he’d found for the ridiculously low rent in the city screaming overpriced everywhere he went. Homeless people pushed their carts, and buses carried their patrons, he sighed; he loved this city, despite the shit it threw at him. His mouth was open and let the strange mood follow him as he passed the county museum and the always filmed, crazy lit diner. The apartment building to his left looked vaguely like a miniature plantation, had to look at it a few times. The regular trip home, seemed so different, the air crisper, his mind whirling with thoughts he couldn’t quite understand. The music specifically set for one person rang on his cell phone. He smirked, his strange mood understood, and he answered. “Hey Jack,” he said, light and happy, the grin widened as the person on the other end spoke. “Yeah, I’m on my way back from work. I actually saw a movie,” he said, eyes sparkled. “Yeah, it was good. Not brilliant, but I liked it,” he licked his lips, hands drumming on the steering wheel to no audible melody. The conversation never led on to deep feelings, but Ennis’ car turned right instead of left onto San Vicente, Jack’s condo was the final destination. Sitting outside, three am, smoke in hand, was this what he wanted? Was this, soft snores in the background, semi-heavy traffic in the dead of the early morning, street-lamps glowing fluorescent yellow, was it his dream realized? He slowly walked back inside, the wood floor creaked as he did, and he curled up next to Jack. Jack unconsciously turned toward him and acquiesced to his touch. Yeah, he was.
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Jack: After the Confrontation Scene	[Sep. 2nd, 2006\|11:23 am]
“You made me like this.” “It because of you I’m like this” Words funneled down into a brink Jack no longer wanted to dwell on, but Ennis was his bane and his paradise rolled into one; like a thunderstorm that wouldn’t relent. The twists and turns, the fights and fucks wouldn’t leave. It was us both that started this, both of us. Jack sat on his porch, feet propped up on his balcony, front legs of his chair off the ground. His ubiquitous cigarette was held between his index and his middle finger, smoke rising up, seeking the heavens Jack had long given up on. The bitterness was choking the life out of Jack’s once, idealist heart. It could like, just like this, always. A cry tried to exit Jack’s throat, but was caught by realism, no longer stifled. That engraved afternoon circled around, like Sisyphus, as soon as Jack realized his dream was over, his heart rolled back almost believing Ennis would give in. The never-ending scroll of Hades landed directly into Jack’s lap, and he laughed; almost too bitter to relate to his happy experience of Brokeback Mountain. Without realizing what was happening he felt arms wrap around him, a thumb stroke his collar, you’re sleeping like a horse. Jack’s eyes rolled back, a sigh left his lips and his head instinctively thumped against the wall, chair in lined to do such. But as his head hit the stucco wall, his eyes opened to the clear night sky, no Ennis in sight, Lucifer chuckling in plain view. The red clouds of bitter enveloped Jack and his chair hit the hard surface; he’d never live what he wanted. “Jack you coming to bed?” he heard from inside the house. He didn’t make an answer audible, instead let out long moan, both in pain from his faded dream and in apathy to care about Lureen herself. The strength of Ennis’ arms wrapping around him, always gave Jack the sense of worth. He desperately tried to scratch Ennis’ arms from his memory, instead it always came rushing back; Jack stood up hands made themselves through his hair in an almost confusion. Measure the short fucking leash you keep me on. His eyes furrowed in anger, disbelief in the amount of effort he’d made in vein. Jack paced his front porch, too angered to care about the frost biting he hands as he let them shake at his side. Ennis are you ok? Ain’t no reins on this one. His heart made a flip-flop and he made a scowl as those words twisted in his mind. And it scares me. Jack floated through the mountain, smelled the horse shit and the beans and in time, his eyes watered. He stopped the tears from leaving their home, I wish I knew how to quit you. He now paced furiously up and down his front porch, his boots making a loud thump with each step. “Jack, honey if your going to pace, take off your shoes,” Lureen persisted from inside. He opened the front door and made it inside; plopped on the couch and lit up a cigarette. Just let me be. His eyes squinted, anger and melancholy maintained his emotion, couldn’t leave it alone. If ya can’t fix it. “Fuck,” he whispered and closed his eyes. No dreams would come this night, though nightmares were readily available. He made no effort to undress, instead chose to sleep on the couch, nothing like the mountain, but not with his wife either.
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Ennis One Shot, Newleywed	[Sep. 2nd, 2006\|04:03 am]
Title: Ennis: Newleywed Summary: Basis Ennis Disclaimer: These men belong in, writing, to Annie Proulx, who so brilliantly came up with Jack and Ennis, I just think about them day in and day out, s'why I think of them as mine too. Feedback: Please. Author's note: It happens every time I'm drunk and loose contact with all my friends... I write a one shot. Thanks everyone that's read what I've posted, thus far...one day I'll get over this ache I have for Jack and Ennis. His eyes were wide-open, heart thumping loud, thought he’d wake up Alma. He slowly looked over at his sleeping wife of two months, the woman that would make him feel all that happened on Brokeback Mountain was only subject of young lust. It wasn’t and no matter how many times or in which way he made love to her, it fell short of Jack, Jack Twist; the only person he felt truly comforted by. The back of Jack’s hand rubbed against Ennis’ cheek, caressing Ennis in a way that made him feel needed, wanted and alive. The soft whispers in his voice, nonsensical, but soothing upon Ennis’ ears; the smooth touch of Jack’s hand making his way to the promised land. Jack stopped short of making down to Ennis’ cock, but his lips brushed upon Ennis’ mouth and butterfly kissing by his eyelashes rubbing against forehead maked Ennis squirm. Jack’s eyes looked upon Ennis, sweetness soothing Ennis’ rock hard cock needing the touch of Jack's hand. Ennis laid on the tent floor, heart splayed open for Jack to grab onto and nourish, in which he never questioned, never spoke those words of love aloud, but felt never-the-less; and Jack took, greedily. Ennis’ eyes searched, in vain, around the darkness, hoping to catch a glance at Jack, but caught off guard that his vivid dream, translated into real life, but snatched away by the soft snore of his young wife, was lost. Jack was gone now, never to be seen again. The punch so vivid in Ennis’ mind; meant to him, Jack was really gone, only seen now in his dreams. A soft breath of air came out of Ennis’ mouth, and a soft moan of self-awareness bemoaned his heart. No way Jack would be seen in his life-time, that punch would keep him away; no matter the ocean of blue, the sky of aqua, the startling azure apparent in his everyday life. Jack’s eyes were set, only seen now, in his dreams. Not one night was left alone without Jack making his appearance, but Ennis felt it deep down; Jack’s light would shine away from Ennis. He got up, quietly, trying not to wake Alma’s soft sleep, and he crept to the living room. He had no idea why he needed solace, but wanted to think of Jack alone. The roaring wind never quieted down, the hurricane of fire never left his sight; Ennis felt completely alone, Jack was gone. He put his hands too his face, rubbed his head, eyes filled with water; why’d he let Jack leave? Every fiber of Ennis’ being ached to be held in Jack’s arms again; every bone ached to be touched by Jack’s rough, strong hands; a small cry left his lips. He looked around, made sure Alma was still asleep, had no idea how he’d live the rest of his life without the one thing than made him truly feel alive. He resolved, if you can’t fix, fuck, you gotta stand it.
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Riverton, 1974	[Aug. 31st, 2006\|12:25 am]
The television droned on, Jenny and Junior playing games, Alma knitted something, not even she could recall what it was. Ennis laid on the couch, beer in hand, wasn’t his first, wouldn’t be his last. Outside the night filled the sky, thick clouds transparent as the stars shone their brilliance. Inside, the yellowed light filled the room, though for Ennis, the moon shone, not the fake light. For Ennis, Jack filled the night. The pine enveloped Ennis’ nostrils, the beer bottle changed to a whiskey bottle and Alma changed into Jack sitting on a tree trunk trying to figure out how they’d managed to finish off two bottles of whiskey. The air was damp, the sky was clear, Ennis looked up, his face content. The sight was Jack, flicking his shiny belt buckle, his prized posession, something Ennis was sure he could top. After Jack was finished ramming himself into the pile of shit, falling down in a laughter. Ennis laughted, “I guess my dad was right.” The words flew out of Ennis’ mouth, made Alma stir in her chair. “What?” Alma asked, in the midst of her knitting. “Nothing, don’t need to go to church, too late,” Ennis said, still saw Jack falling down, the smile painted across his face. Jack managed to get himself up, his smile lighting the night sky as Ennis peered upon him. The sight a beautiful picture, something Ennis never questioned, this sight of Jack so happy and so full of life. Ennis straightened himself on the couch, legs open waiting for Jack to pounce on him, just like Brokeback. And Jack did, his smile contagious as he did. Ennis laid there, let Jack do whatever he wanted. Jack unbuttoned hid pants slowly, letting his bulge free in plain light, the length of his cock against his stomach. Ennis marveled as Jack took it in hand and stroked it up and down, never taking his eyes off Ennis. He developed a rhythm as Ennis kept his stare, a sight he never could tire of. The light shone on Jack, his beautiful face glowing in the moonlight, filling his features with a blue hue so beautiful Ennis was sure it was directly from Heaven. “There’s a church social, I think it’d be great, if we smartened up and went to it,” Alma said, as though she could picture the thoughts streaming through Ennis’ mind. “Them fire and brimstone people—” Ennis got out, now distracted by church, his mind drifted from Jack. Ennis stared back at the television, droning on about things he couldn’t care less about. He tried his hardest to get back to Jack, but couldn’t, damned be to Alma. He closed his eyes, took a drink from his beer bottle, downing it in a gulp. He got up to get himself another, but the fridge was empty, he scoured the fridge for more, needed to get back to Jack. He walked to the bedroom and plopped down, hands to his head, tried his hardest to think of Jack, but the only person behind him was Alma; she was not the person her wanted and he knew it. He let her caress his neck and chest talking of better times, no one was better than Jack, though Ennis let himself believe otherwise.
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One random day, 1971	[Aug. 30th, 2006\|12:00 am]
Ennis sat on the steps, and looked upon the mountain, not his mountain, just a range, meaningless on the outside. His whiskey in hand, bottle still full, but not his first bottle anyway. Didn’t know why he kept his eyes squarely on the range, never wanted to know what was really going on in his mind anyway. But, that range, somewhere in that was him, with Ennis, his Jack. The dreams never left, his bottle never left. Why trust something not right in front of you? “Ennis, you comin in for supper,” Alma said, not a question. Ennis sat there, watched a man walk by, smile toward him. Ennis sat stoic, though his eyes squinted, didn’t care smiles, not from anyone, but Jack. “Ennis,” Alma said. “I’m comin,” Ennis said, though he sat there without movement. His eyes reverted back to the mountain. His body began to shiver, though the air was silent and the weather was mild. His breathing became heavy, loud, and his mouth finally opened. The words flew out in his mind, could be like this, just like this. Over and over, Ennis gulped the air, and brought the bottle back to his mouth. By the time he brought the bottle back down it was half empty, and the range was laughing. Ennis’ head hit the side of the wall and hands were shaking now. His eyes were dry. “Ennis,” Alma shouted irritation plainly heard in her voice. Ennis straightened out, stood up, wobbled a bit and threw his bottle at the street. The bottle splattered on the ground, the brown liquid made a stream in every direction, though not toward Ennis. Ennis’ back hit the wall, with one foot up in an effort to make it up the stairs. He grabbed the railing, walked a few steps then fell back down. He faced the range once more. He’d left his heart up there, and Jack had grabbed it. Ennis couldn’t stand, couldn’t stand it, he wanted to let go, but the range wouldn’t let him go.
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Jack in Childress, 1984	[Aug. 25th, 2006\|10:52 pm]
To the very notion of needing, Jack was repulsed. He sat on the lawn chair, Lureen to his right, Bobby in the pool. His thoughts were squarely on Ennis, couldn’t for the life of him take it off, though he really didn’t try. Ennis’ blond hair, his deep cinnamon eyes and soft pinks lips made its appearance. Lureen tried to coax Jack into playing around with Bobby, it was the perfect summer day, sun blaring its sunshine. Jack sat with his legs crossed at the ankles, a fake smile crossed his face; he was good at pretending he was happy. If Lureen only knew the thoughts that crossed his mind, she’d blush in embarrassment, Ennis made quite the splash. “Hey, daddy, watch this one,” Bobby yelled as he made a cannonball into the pool. The water splashed on everyone around, all made the happy face that it was fun. Jack smiled, even giggled for Bobby’s benefit. The fakeness was rampant, no one truly cared about anyone else. Jack loved Bobby, but would give Bobby away to anyone if he could get Ennis full time. Jack picked up his glass of rum and coke and gulped it down. “Lureen honey, you mind getting some more for me?” “You got legs of your own Jack.” “So do you honey and I see your empty too.” Lureen got up in huff and picked up Jack’s cup. Jack looked at the smile ever-present on Bobby’s mouth, and scoffed. Life’s shit Bobby, just hope you never see it. Jack kept his eyes on Bobby making sure he never did drown, the last thing Jack ever wanted in his pathetic life was to watch his only son drown on accident. Lureen came back, drink in hand, “there Jack, s’what you wanted?” Jack nodded and gulped it down, too drunk now to argue. For the erection he had thinking on Ennis was coming into sight, sex with Lureen was far too much than Jack wanted. “Thanks, sweetheart. Watch Bobby. Gunna take a nap, “ Jack said. “Yeah, ok, Jack. Sweet dreams,” she said in a snarky way, for sweet and dreams was not what she wanted. She was sick of Jack just falling asleep without her getting pleasure. Jack dozed off in a few minutes; Lureen’s eyes never stopped watching. The fake life they lived was something Lureen tried to make real. The fake life Jack lived was something Jack drank to. He wanted Ennis, Ennis wanted him, that reality was drink worthy. Whiskey streams and blue birds singing were more real to Jack than Ennis relenting and following. But, Jack never stopped his dreaming, November, be damned, Jack would give his ultimatum to Ennis, regardless.
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