After supper, Jack watched Ennis ride off on his chestnut, calling �see you in the mornin� over his shoulder, while the sun dipped below the mountaintops.

Jack rinsed the dishes in the river water, grimacing when his fingers came out stiff and red and cold. Spring's chill still iced the water, even though the river ran freely and the mountains were grassy and green.

Tossing the dishes into an open pack, Jack lay down next to the fire. He tilted his hat over his eyes; dozed but did not sleep.

Not two hours had gone by when Jack sat up, straightening his hat. He kicked a clod of dirt onto the campfire, tied the food cans up into a tree, out of the reach of bears, and mounted his bay mare, clucking and reining her tight when she tried to throw him. Jack rode out to where he could see the flock of sheep, stark white against the growing darkness of the mountainside, a bed of cotton covering the land.

Into the woods and up the rocky slopes, until Jack found Cigar Butt tied to a tree, munching on grass. The sheep were settled in a wide group nearby, and the dogs lay dozing among them, the cloud of white dotted here and there with black. Ennis was nowhere in sight.

Jack dismounted and tied his mare next to the chestnut, before setting off on the steep curve of the cliff that overlooked the sheep. As he reached the crest of the cliff, he saw Ennis lying there on his bedroll, shirtless, a lone shadow in the dark. Ennis� jeans were undone and his hand stroked his erection. The sweat on his skin glittered in the twilight. Jack�s own cock immediately stiffened at the sight of him.

When Ennis heard Jack�s approach, Ennis froze. But he didn�t remove his hand.

�Jesus H., I always wondered what you did a pass the time up here.� Jack shoved his hands into his pockets. They seemed to itch, suddenly.

Ennis tilted his head back to look at Jack, smirking at Jack upside-down. �Yeah, well, I ain�t got no harmonica so this I figure is the next best thing.�

Jack grinned back at him. �Friend, I reckon I�ll never think a my harmonica the same way again.�

�What you doin here, anyway?�

�Fuckin bored out of my skull. Figured I�d keep you company.� Jack came closer, looking down at Ennis� scruffy golden hair, unsure if Ennis wanted him there or if he should just turn around and go.

�The camp?� But Ennis put his free hand around Jack�s ankle, dispelling any uncertainties.

�Let the goddamn coyotes eat the beans, for all I care. Least then they�d stop eatin the sheep.� Jack settled in beside Ennis, and Ennis inched over to share his bedroll, but it really wasn�t big enough and Jack was half-lying on the damp grass, still wet from last morning�s rain.

�You awright?� Ennis� voice was quiet, but right next to Jack�s ear, and his smoke-rough tenor seemed to fill the night wind.

�As rain.�

Ennis let go of his cock, making to pull up his pants again, but Jack�s hand on his wrist stopped him.

�What were you thinkin of, just now?� murmured Jack.

�Don�t go fishin, Jack Twist,� muttered Ennis, rolling on his side and pulling Jack to him. Despite the chill in the evening, Ennis� bare chest was blood-warm against Jack�s shirt. His eyes glittered blue, mirrors of the night sky, but he only met Jack�s gaze briefly and then looked down at Jack�s chest. �You know what, sure enough.�

�Sure, but�� Jack paused, watching Ennis undo his shirt, blunt hands steady. �But what exactly?�

Ennis popped the last button by accident, breathing a curse when the little plastic button flew away into the night, landing somewhere on the grass with a minute slap. �Shit. Sorry.� He reached inside Jack�s shirt, cold palms sliding along Jack�s ribcage.

��Sawright.� Jack breathed in, out, deep. Ennis� hands rode the movement of Jack�s chest like twin rodeo cowboys, palms slowly warming from Jack�s heat. �Ennis��

Ennis kissed him then, mouth dry and cool. Jack took the kiss, surprised for a moment, not because Ennis was kissing him, but because the kiss seemed almost� leisurely. Like a lazy Sunday afternoon. Not violent, not urgent, not full of spitfire. Pleasant and quiet, and, not for the first time, Jack wondered what it would be like to be like this, just like this, all the time.

The quiet kiss didn�t last long, because Jack worked his hands between them, squeezing Ennis� cock in his fist, and Ennis grunted, biting Jack�s lip hard and then thrusting his tongue into Jack�s mouth. Jack stroked Ennis, hard and even, in rhythm with their kiss.

Ennis ripped his mouth away and panted, thrusting, bucking into Jack�s fist. �Fuck. Jack.�

�What were you thinkin of, Ennis? Fuckin me?� Jack muttered in Ennis� ear, because even here, in the silent evening, with only the sheep on the field below, it seemed strange to talk about this. To say the words. Even as he spoke, Jack kept up the pace of his strokes. �Or� me fuckin you?�

�God,� groaned Ennis, and came, spilling all over Jack�s hand. He exhaled hugely, clinging to Jack�s shoulders and shivering.

Jack unzipped his own jeans, feeling fire dancing under his skin, in his hands, and nudged Ennis onto his back. Ennis lay on the bedroll and shimmied the rest of the way out of his own jeans, blue eyes luminous. It was like looking into the soul of the sky.

Jack used Ennis� come to slick himself and he grunted when he entered Ennis, because� fuck. Jack had never done this before, never, with Ennis or with any man. The angle was sort of wrong, and Ennis hissed at first, but then he arched upwards, muscled legs easily stretching to accommodate, urging, taking Jack in. After a few tense movements, they found their rhythm. Their harsh breaths seemed to echo all over the entire mountain.

Ennis would never do this with another man. He�d as likely shoot any man who tried. But Ennis was letting Jack do this, Ennis wanted Jack to do this, and Ennis was � fuck, was looking at him like� Jack cried out, shuddering and coming and falling apart.

Jack winced as he slipped out of Ennis, and then he just fell forward, suddenly feeling as worn out as anything. Ennis caught him, holding him close, their chests pressed together, rising and falling in unison as they breathed in counterpoint to one another.

The night air around them seemed to absorb the scent of their sex. All Jack could smell was the sharp tang of the grass, the faint musk of the sheep, the smoky scent of Ennis.

When Jack could speak again, he repeated Ennis� earlier question and said, �You awright?�

�As rain,� said Ennis, and added, �but I want a smoke fuckin bad.�

Jack sniggered and rose up to pull on his jeans. He zipped himself up and got his cigarettes from his back pocket. He looked up, seeing that the moon was up now, and the stars were winking. �Maybe I should get back to camp,� he said, tossing the pack to Ennis.

Ennis caught it and shook out a cigarette, putting it, unlit, in the corner of his mouth. �Easy, cowboy,� he said, and reached forward, cupping a hand around the back of Jack�s knee and tugging, until Jack came forward again, kneeling astride Ennis.

�I can�t leave the camp alone all night long,� said Jack, but they both knew it was all talk.

�Forget the goddamn beans,� said Ennis. �They can watch themselves for one night.� He took the cigarette out of his mouth to kiss Jack.

Jack sighed against the kiss, but grinned, running a hand through Ennis� golden hair. It slipped through his fingers like corn silk, like liquid moonlight.

The End