DC: not mine and all that crap. Mature subject matter, reader discretion is advised.
There couldn't have been a more drastic contrast between the inside and the outside of the lone tent atop Brokeback Mountain.
Outside, the cold night air chilled the desolate mountain range; the unmoving rocks and trees standing stark and shadowy against the overcast, grey sky gave a dangerous and raw look to the rugged terrain. Inside the tent, the air was moist and warm with heavy breathing; sweat stained the canvas floor; the weatherproof sides shuddered and bucked, much like the occupants of the tent itself. The very tent seemed alive; its movement, limited by the tethers which kept it safe from wind, proved that life did indeed exist on Brokeback Mountain.
Jack Twist, rodeo performer and temporary shepherd, was caught in a headlock by his short-term co-shepherd, Ennis del Mar. As the two wrestled shirtless within the confines of the undersized tent, it became clear that Jack was on the losing end – this time. He collapsed to the floor, panting.
"Uncle," he muttered. Ennis refused to let go. "Uncle," he repeated, louder this time.
"I ain't yer uncle," Ennis growled in his ear, then he flipped Jack onto his back and pinned him. He straddled the helpless man and leaned forward over him menacingly. Jack struggled to free himself, but every attempt was in vain; Ennis had him completely submissive. Just where he wanted him.
Ennis twitched a tiny grin and lunged at Jack, his hands roughly pulling Jack's face towards his. Jack grunted, smiling, as he thrust his tongue into Ennis' mouth. Ennis growled and pulled Jack closer, stroking his face with one hand and clumsily loosening his own belt with the other.
Jack arched his hips off the ground, and Ennis groaned, hurrying the pace at which he attempted to loosen his belt. Jack freed his arms from Ennis' compromised grasp and hastily undid the belt himself. His hands immediately flew to his own strained jeans and he freed his aching erection which he grabbed to try and ease the tension. Ennis shoved Jack's hand aside and grabbed it instead, more forcefully, and rubbed frantically until Jack could barely stand it any longer.
"Ennis," he mumbled. Ennis pressed their mouths together hard in response.
"Jack," Ennis answered, and he grabbed Jack by the shoulders and flipped him over. Jack elevated himself on his hands and knees and braced himself for the illicit euphoria that was Ennis del Mar.
Ennis had never done anything like this before he met Jack, and secretly, he wondered why and how he knew exactly what to do. Thoughts of why and how left his head, replaced with here and now, and he concentrated solely on the man bent over in front of him. A little spit was all it took to ease the effort a little bit, and Ennis grabbed Jack by the hips and pulled him back hard. Stars danced both in front of and behind Ennis' eyes as he pushed Jack forward again in his effort to go faster, harder, rougher. Ennis could never get enough of fucking Jack as hard as he possibly could; to him, it wasn't solely about pleasure but about proving that if he was a queer, he was gonna be a damn manly one. Sex with Jack gave Ennis such a feeling of dominance that, mixed with the grunts of his lover and the inexplicably intense feeling of burying himself in another man, he climaxed hard and fast every single time.
Jack, on the other hand, was getting accustomed to being on the receiving end. He shut his eyes tightly as he felt Ennis begin to peak and grabbed himself to try and beat him to it. The combined sensations of Ennis behind him and his own hands in front nearly caused Jack to black out; instead, he merely shouted and collapsed, exhausted and sated. He lay face down on the floor of the tent, too tired to move at the moment, and Ennis lay down on top of him.
"Oof," Jack grunted. "Giddoff."
"Nuh-uh," was Ennis' reply as he wrapped his arms around Jack's shoulders. Jack rolled over and Ennis rolled off, but no sooner than he'd stopped rolling than he scooched right back over to Jack and threw an arm across his chest. He nuzzled into Jack's shoulder and heaved a mighty contented sigh.
Jack wrapped his own arm across Ennis' and rubbed his hand across it slowly, absentmindedly. "We really got somethin' goin' here, huh?" he mumbled quietly. When Ennis didn't answer him after a silence that was too long, even for Ennis, Jack turned his head and smiled to himself when he found Ennis fast asleep. Jack smiled and drew Ennis closer to him, then fell asleep soon after.
The wind picked up outside the tent, moaning through the trees, and once again, the difference between inside and outside grew until there couldn't have been a more drastic contrast.