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June 2013

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A Collection of Brokeback Drabbles — Nos. 21 through 40

Pairing:  Jack/Ennis (mostly canon, some A/U)

Rating:  ??  Language, sex—some M/M and even a little M/F sex, occasionally graphic

Disclaimer:  Annie Proulx invented them, Diana Ossana and Larry McMurtry expanded them, Ang Lee guided them, and Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal interpreted them.  I'm just playing with the action figures.

Comments:  Yes, please.

021. Friends

Alma walks quickly to the grocery store with Ennis’s shouts following her.  She has to work, Ennis’s ranch jobs just don’t bring in enough money—careful as she is about spending, the bills still mount up and fall behind.  And this is a good job, nearby, reasonable pay.  And Monroe is a fine boss, such a kind, sweet man.  Always understanding; always helpful.  A friend more than a boss.  Might be he wishes he could be a little more than a friend, but Alma’s a married woman, and they both respect that.  A decent man.  And a good friend, too.

022. Enemies

Jack Twist is the enemy.  Alma knows this, but has no idea what to do about it, except hang on and do her duty, hoping Ennis will come to his senses.  She can’t talk to nobody about it.  How it’s not just those “fishing trips”—they’re only a few weeks in the year.  It’s that she doesn’t really have Ennis the rest of the year either.  He works, eats, sleeps, spends some time with the girls.  Never wants to go anywhere.  Seldom wants sex, and then she knows who he’s thinking about.  All for Jack Nasty—nothing left for Alma.

023. Lovers

The first time, there wasn’t time to think.  Ennis was awake, enraged, aroused, in, finished, out, and asleep again, all in a handful of minutes.  There was time to think after, though.  Time for shame, anger, remorse, confusion, anger again, and burgeoning desire.  “That was a one-shot thing last night,” he thought to say, meaning never again.  But what he actually said meant more like all summer.  He approached the tent shyly.  Jack deserved better than to be fucked like an animal.  Ennis didn’t exactly know how to make love.  But he was willing to learn.  And Jack to teach.

024. Family

K.E. Del Mar is eleven years old.  His brother Ennis is nine.  Their sister Megan is fourteen, but sisters don’t hardly count.  Ma and Pa love them all.  “This is for your own good,” they say.  Ma says it about vegetables and medicine; Pa says it about lickins.  “Pay attention, K.E.” Pa says, “cause you’re gonna be the next man in the family, and then the family’ll be yours to take care of.”  This makes K.E. both proud and scared.  “Come on,” Pa says one day.  “Gonna show you somethin you need to see.  Ennis, you better come along, too.”

025. Strangers

They call him Señor Azul—Mister Blue—for his eyes.  They know what he likes:  tall, rangy men with brown eyes and dark blond or light brown hair, not too much older or younger than him.  He rarely fucks them; he’d rather be fucked himself.  Blowjobs?  Sometimes he gives, sometimes takes.  He never wants to know their names, never socializes.  He just shows up, cruises until he finds someone suitable, and goes off to a room with him.  He’s well-liked because he’s both considerate and generous.  They never see him smile.  They’re strangers to him, though they know him well.

026. Teammates

Jimbo’s heard a rumor or two about Jack Twist.  He doesn’t seem like the type, but you never can tell for sure.  He’s a nice enough guy, friendly.  And appreciative, which not all bullriders are, sometimes cussing out the clowns just because they couldn’t keep their asses on a bull’s back for more than three seconds.  You wouldn’t catch Twist pulling shit like that.  Good ride or bad, he thanks you for running in front of an angry bull and luring him away.  He’s popular enough with the ladies, so it seems, but still those rumors…  Better just avoid him.

027. Parents

“Barbie is the mommy and Alan is the daddy…”

“Jenny, Ken is Barbie’s boyfriend!”

“I don’t like Ken’s hair.  And Scooter and Skipper are their little girls, kay, Junior?  And they’re playing dolls.  And Barbie—the mommy—says, ‘Can’t you girls be quiet?’  And Alan says, ‘C’mon, darlins, lets go for a walk and pick dandelions.’  And…”

“Dandelions!  They’re just weeds!”

“Well, I like em.  Where’s Barbie’s fishing pole?  I need it for Ken, cause he’s Alan’s fishing buddy.”

“That means Barbie’s gonna cry.”

“No, she won’t, cause Alan’s gonna bring home lots of fish and make her so happy!”

028. Children

Cute kids.  Jenny’s got a big friendly smile.  Junior’s holding back some.  Guess she’s a little reserved—just like her Daddy!  How old are they now?  Ten and eleven, I think.  I guess Ennis must be takin them home.  Or maybe out to eat.  That’d be nice; I could get to know them better.  I’m gonna enjoy watchin them grow up.  Bobby’s eight—close enough to play with, if they’re ever around all at one time.  Ennis’s girls, my Bobby—three kids between us.  That’s a nice family.

“Got your card sayin the divorce came through.  So…  Here I am!”

029. Birth — A/U

Ennis on his side on the hill, watching the distant sheep, rifle by his side.  Jack sits down near his feet.

“Jack, I wanna…”  “What, Ennis?”  “Don’t make me hafta say it…”  He rolls.

“Y’know,” Jack says, “Last night…  If you don’t want…  That could be just a one-shot thing, y’know?”

“Oh, God, Ennis, you’re like silk!”  “More, Jack!  Fuck me, fuck me hard, hard!

Ennis smiles ruefully.  “Nobody’s business but ours.”

And after, “Stay with me, Jack.  Stay in me.”

Jack smiles, too, looks down.  “Well, you probly figured it out by now:  I’m queer.”

“I guess… me, too.”

030. Death

Growing up on a farm, Ennis can’t even remember the first time he’d seen death.  Animals die—they die from disease or in accidents; they’re slaughtered for food; they’re killed by predators.  People die, too.  By age nine, Ennis has been to three funerals, and seen the bodies in the caskets.  But this is different—no accident.  Is being queer a disease?  Or is this a death by predator?  Will Earl have a funeral?  Who will go to it?  Who could look at his face in the casket without thinking about how he died?

Part of Ennis dies here, too.

031. Sunrise

Ennis wakes in the red dawn, pants around his knees, with a top-grade headache.  He’s in the tent, with Jack.  He remembers…  He doesn’t want to remember.  He pulls up his pants and moves out of the tent.  Everything looks so normal.  How can everything look the same when everything has changed?  He’s got to get up to the sheep.  That’s his job, and right now that’s all he’s got to hang onto.  Here’s Jack coming out of the tent.  Will he be angry?  Or hurt?  Or lovey-dovey?  Ennis can’t face him.  What will Jack say?

“See you for supper.”

032. Sunset

Summer in the mountains, sunset comes late.  Sunset means supper is over, and it’s time to go back up to the flock and keep watch.  That’s the job they were hired on for.  Sunset also means shadows and firelight flickering over Jack’s face, a sight Ennis never seems to tire of.  He peers surreptitiously from the corners of his eyes, shielded under his hat.  When Jack looks right at him, eyes wide open, with a little smile and a small tilt of the chin toward the tent, saying, “Well...?” Ennis thinks, sheep be damned, and pulls Jack into his arms.

033. Too Much

“You’re home early.”

“Cut the meeting short; they ain’t really serious buyers.  You’re early, too, Lureen.”

“Oh, finished April and decided not to start on May.  Told Marta to take the rest of the night off.  Maybe we could…”  She was interrupted by Bobby’s cry.

“I’ll get him,” Jack told her.  “He’s just hungry and needs his diaper changed.”

“You sure?”  Lureen still had a hard time believing that Jack was willing to do baby care.

“Why not?  I’ve looked after horses, cattle, thousands of sheep…  One kid is easy.”

“Cattle?  Horses?  Sheep?  Lureen laughed.  “Jack, you are too much.”

034. Not Enough

Bobby fed, burped, changed, and sleeping, Jack rejoined his wife in the bedroom.  “Hey, honey, did I hear a matin call?” he teased.

“Why, you in a matin mood?”

He undresses and slips into bed beside her.  “Mmmm.  I sure married the purtiest little gal in Texas.”  Her nightgown has a row of little pearl buttons.  Jack starts undoing them, his fingers shaking a little.

Lureen sighs happily.  “You always say that.”

“S’always true.”  He slips a hand around her breast, gently brushing the nipple.  She’s so sweet and soft and fragrant.  Jack really wishes that was enough for him.

035. Sixth Sense

How could Ennis not have known?  How could he have just gone on, day by day, for weeks or months, remembering Jack, thinking of Jack, dreaming of Jack, thinking of how he can make things better with Jack…  And all the while, Jack’s dead, and Ennis doesn’t know.  950 miles isn’t so far that he shouldn’t have heard the tire irons, felt them strike, known when Jack fell.  But he didn’t.  He just went on, as usual, eating, drinking, working, resting…  It’s a betrayal of sorts.  Jack didn’t let him know.  And Ennis should have known, somehow, without being told.

036. Smell

Pine, sage, cropped grass.  Scents of weather:  rain, snow, hail, ozone tang of lightning, dew at night or dawn, sharp mountain wind.  A thousand sheep, dogs mostly dry but sometimes wet, untanned coyote hide, cat piss or worse.  Coyote, deer, skunk.  At the camp, coffee, whiskey and beer, beans, bacon, elk jerky, onions frying.  Or onions burning.  Wood smoke and fresh cut wood, horses and mules, leather scents from saddles and bridles.  Dirty socks, clean shirts, soap.  Musty tent, and inside it, Ennis, Jack, cigarette smoke, sweat, semen, sometimes shit.  Lust has its own scent.  What does love smell like?

037. Sound

Jack is shameless:  he groans, he pants, he sighs; he lets out anguished moans.  Oh, and he talks, too, pleading for more, faster, harder.  “Yeah,” he says.  “Oh, God, yes, yes, just like that.  Christ, it’s good, so good, so fuckin good!”  And comes with a piercing cry.  Don’t think you can shut him up by filling his mouth, either.  He can still grunt and moan and whimper; and he will.  And then he’ll get that mischievous look and he’ll start in sucking and lapping and slurping.  It’s enough to drive a man crazy.  Enough to drive his man wild.

038. Touch

Jack contemplates his sleeping lover.  He wishes Ennis could be more relaxed—could enjoy himself more.  Jack loves running his hands over Ennis’s body, kissing him, nuzzling him.  There isn’t one part of Jack’s body that doesn’t love the feel of Ennis, nor is there any part of Ennis’s body that he doesn’t love to touch.  He knows Ennis feels the same, and that it frightens him, making him hold back and deny himself pleasure—pleasure that Jack wants so much to give to him.  He caresses Ennis’s arm, slowly and lightly, again and again.  Ennis sighs in his sleep.

039. Taste

“You come back and see us again.”

Mama Twist—he can’t help but think of her that way—had put her request so mildly that Ennis felt impelled to honor it.  He knew that he was all she had left of Jack.  Whatever she knew or guessed or believed about his relationship with her son, she felt the connection.  So Ennis came back.  Twist Sr. was derisive and rude, as expected.  Mrs. Twist said little, though she touched him lightly a few times.  In his grief, the cherry cake tasted like cardboard.

She is all he has left of Jack.

040. Sight

Oh.  Her.  I wish Daddy hadn’t brought her along.  I was hopin to have him all to myself for just this once.  I guess she’s nice enough.  Sure is pretty.  And lively, which I guess Daddy needs.  But he doesn’t seem happy with her.  In fact the only time he really seems happy is just before and after those fishing trips with that Mr. Twist.  Maybe he’s just one of those guys that gets on best with other guys.  A man’s man, like they say.  Or…  My Daddy’s all man.  Some men are like that.  Just not the marryin kind.

Free hitcounter


Never read drabbles before
damn, sid, this makes me see whta i've been missing.
Especially loved the last four touch, sound, sight, and taste.
Loved them, gonna have to go back and read all of yours now.
Thank you. It's a fascinating little art form. Check out some of the other authors. Louisev has some longer RPS ones. I think Sheera posts some directly to the Slash Discussion thread. beatriceorme (whose list of prompts I stole borrowed) has done quite a few right here in LJ... Well, I'm in good company!
Friends--Tsk, tsk, Monroe, bein' so friendly with a married woman. It did seem like he was trying to get his hooks in even before Ennis was out of the picture =P
Enemies--The last line is so sad :'( How are you so good at making me sympathize for Alma?
Too Much--
Not Enough--
Sixth Senset--
All right, let's try this again. Goddamn LJ.

Lovers--I LOVE EVERY LINE! This is so good. The amazing parallel constructions tell so much about what Ennis is thinking and feeling. And learning to make love... sooo sweet. Just lovely.
Family--Ugh. Wow. That really packs a punch. I love the line about "lickins," I could really see him saying that.
Strangers--*sobs* Aggggh... my poor Jack. "Though they know him well." Ouch.
Teammates--Nice expansion on that scene from the movie.
Parents--Dammit Sid! Stop sneaking in those little lines that break my heart!
Children--Oh Jack... *wibbles*. Always so hopeful.
Birth--Awwwwwww. That is so sweet. I'm queer, indeed ;)
Death--I don't know what to say to this except that I'm starting to cry.
Sunrise--Ennis feeling unsure? I hadn't thought about it that way, but that's a very interesting interpretation.
Sunset--"Ennis thinks, sheep be damned, and pulls Jack into his arms." Gorgeous, gorgeous.
Too Much--Jack/Lureen banter ♥.
Not Enough--Aggh, that was so sweet until the last line. You are sooo sneaky, you killeth me.
Sixth Sense-- :( Poor Ennis. I would feel exactly the same way.
Smell--Wonderful! You have a talent for writing lists that aren't boring or repepetive. The last line is amazing :)
Sound--Should that last line say "Enough to drive THIS man wild"? Mmmm, yeah, I think that would be enough to drive anyone wild.
Touch--I picture Ennis as being such a peaceful sleeper--you captured that perfectyly.
Taste--Ain't that the truth. Wow.
Sight--I could 100% see her thinking this. Bravo.

These are amazing, Sid, just like the other batch! I think you'll have to do another hundred after you finish these, dear, to keep my drabble loving virus at bay ;)

Thank you, thank you!

And apologies for the tearjerkers. They just come out that way. I think, "Damn. These are all so depressing. Let's see if I can't write a cheerful one." And you see what happens. But you gotta take what the Muse sends...

Thanks so much for the drabble-by-drabble review.
Enemies--I feel sorry for Alma. I'm not blaming Ennis, he did what he felt was best (and what he couldn't help). But, still, she really got a raw deal.
Parents--This was my take on what the kids would make of a situation that they couldn't possibly comprehend, but also had to be aware of, and were trying to make sense of.
Sound--THIS man would work. But I used the possessive, to bring Ennis into it in a more intimate way.
Sight--"Or..." Junior catches sight of a possibility that makes her close her eyes in a hurry!

I was thinking of maybe doing an A-Z set. But I'd also like to try something longer. I've got a lot of ideas, but how many of them I can get to work out is another question. :)

Re: Thank you, thank you!

My computer keeps bugging out, so this is gonna be fast!

Love hours, strangers, smell, sound, taste. others too. I'm wondering--when is a story going to come out of you? I really Yam.

I've drunk 4 glasses of cranberry juice, ice cold. Stop me before I drink more.

How could you confuse MadLori wi5th Mainewriter? You read too much of this garbage, that's what! Don't stop now.

There was as young lady of Gucci
who danced all the day hoochi=koochi
but she reaslly weoke up
runneth over her cup
when linrick'd by Sid the Melucci. UNFORTUNATELY, she couldn't write lymricks.
I'm enjoying these little snippets of the lives of Jack and Ennis. You have a way of describing how each person feels in the time frame of the drabble.
I like them a lot. : )
Thanks again! It's hard to get much action into 100 words, but it's surprising how much feeling you can shoehorn in! ;)

Snippets is exactly what they are--little snapshots of various characters in various times.

Thanks for reading and commenting.

I liked Lovers, Strangers, Sound, Touch, Taste & Sight. I thought the best was Smell. You are very good at this. I like how you can convey a lot by few words.

Strangers came from my wondering what the Mexican prostitutes thought about Jack, assuming he was a regular visitor.

The sensations group was very interesting. Smell is one of the drabbles that is just essentially a list. It was harder than you might think to come up with the full 100 words on that one. (Usually my problem is just the opposite!) I kept thinking, okay, that's 86 words, now what else can they smell up there?

Thanks so much for your comment!

WHAT is my limrick about your linricks doing here, anyway?

Still love 55 (Strangers). Dunno why. I'm a sick fuck.

Edited at 2009-04-26 01:20 am (UTC)
25 is harsh
35 killed me
oh yeah, 35 ...
One of the concepts that was being thoroughly hashed-out back when I was posting on the Scene-by-Scene and Elements and Themes threads was DRH (as we abbreviated Destructive Rural Homophobia), and we explored the many ways that it affected not only the two men, but everybody else in their lives.

Different strokes for different folks. Some like to simplify the situation--perhaps to make its problems more easily solvable, or as a wistful, wishful-thinking view of a more perfect world than this one. And making Alma and Lureen into villains is a simple way of making it so that they won't be undeservedly hurt.

But I appreciate the complexity, and so I used my drabbles to show the difficult lives of all the characters, each plodding along, doing the best that he or she knew how.

Thank you so much for your flattering comment.