"Sky's on fire."

Jack opened his eyes and rolled onto his back, freeing Ennis's arm. As Ennis rubbed at the pins and needles of returning circulation, he watched Jack watch the sunrise.

The soft campfire colors painted Jack's pale cheeks with rose. His wide blue eyes held all the stars that had so recently occupied the upper reaches. Half in the dream world and half in this one, Jack leaned drowsily against Ennis's warm bulk.

"Sure is purty," Jack drawled.

Ennis agreed, though he'd never say so out loud. Everything was beautiful on Brokeback.

He'd arrived in Signal with nothing to his name but what he carried with him, not expecting anything more than a chance to earn a few dollars with muscle and sweat. The few minutes he'd spent in the claustrophobic trailer office with Joe Aguirre hadn't changed his mind about what lay ahead of him: months of hard labor under harsh conditions for low pay. It was only what he expected, and no more or less than he deserved, he reckoned.

Aguirre's impersonal hostility and casual contempt, the offhand instructions to ignore the law, and dire warnings of the wages of failure did not surprise Ennis. In fact, they soothed the anxiety of stepping into a new situation with the comfort of the familiar. Derision, hardship, and exile, he could deal with; they were old companions.

However, he had no idea what to do with Jack Twist.

Ennis had never met anyone quite like Jack. Jack who thought nothing of sticking out his hand and asking Ennis's name as bold and cheery as a politician courting votes. Jack who spouted big words like some kind of professor, who had rode bulls in a sure enough rodeo, who quieted right down in respect when Ennis told of his family's slow disintegration.

No, Ennis had never met anyone that changed moods so fast, talked so easy, or moved like a high-dollar stud kept from his mares. Nerved up, his grin flashing like a faulty light bulb, bragging, commiserating, tipping the bottle to get the last drop, Jack Twist was a phenomenon that had never appeared in Ennis's firmament before.

Jack drew attention, and Ennis couldn't stop watching him from the corners of his eyes.

When Jack's horse started crow-hoppin' at the jump off, did the dang fool bail out? Hell, no, Jack hung on with a boast, throwing out a challenge to Ennis for good measure. Ennis had stared in frank disbelief before remembering to avert his eyes.

Up in the camp, Ennis noticed other things. Like the way Jack didn't just take what was handed to him in stoic silence. Jack bitched about the weather. Bitched about Aguirre. Bitched about the Goddamned beans. And talked big about how he'd do things, if he were in charge, not that it was ever likely to happen.

Nope. Aguirre had pegged it when he called them a pair a deuces.

But they were a pair. There were two of them. A couple.

Ennis shied away from the thought like a coyote from a fire. Let himself sink back into the warmth of Jack's body pressed against his, breathing in the scent of tobacco, unwashed hair and the lingering tang of Barbasol.

To Ennis's amusement, his friend Jack fancied himself as a bit of a dude. His boots might be worn, but they were polished, near as bright as that big old belt buckle he was so proud of. Ennis teased Jack once, quoting his daddy's opinion that rodeo cowboys was fuck ups. Jack didn't even get mad. Jumped up and cut the fool fit to bust a gut.

A slow smile bloomed on Ennis's face as Jack snuggled closer in the chilly dawn air. He didn't know why this had happened to him, to them, but he wished it would never end, even it damned him to an eternity in the fiery lake. If he could just lie on this cold ground, under the endless sky, and hold Jack forever, he would be content.

Of course, nowadays, being so close to Jack led to other things. Ennis didn't believe he'd ever forget the first time it'd seized hold of him. He'd felt like a man in the grip of a raging fever, unable to control his thoughts, or actions. Like a dream, it unfolded at a steadily accelerating speed until it ended with an explosion that obliterated life as he knew it.

Nothing was the same after that. Even the most ordinary of chores, fetching water, peeling potatoes, washing clothes, was imbued with the knowledge that he was not alone. These tasks were no longer accomplished simply because they were necessary, but because they spared Jack the trouble, brought Jack more comfort, or made Jack smile.

Ennis's daily routine, his very life, had a point now, a worthwhile purpose. He was needed.

Cool fingers on his belly jarred Ennis from his reverie.

"Whut're ya doin'?" he muttered, grabbing Jack's wrist.

"You ain't that dumb," Jack grinned, plucking at the line of hair on Ennis's lower abdomen.

"You cut that out," Ennis said. "I gotta get up to them sheep. Shouldn't a stayed here this long as it is."

"And that's my fault, I expect."

"Well, it is your fault, Jack Twist. If ya hadn't a grabbed my pecker, I'd a gone up last night like I'm s'posed to."

"Fuck them sheep," with his free hand, Jack stroked Ennis through his jeans.

"That'd piss Aguirre off for sure."

Jack laughed, and Ennis loosened his hold on the other man.

"Come on, Ennis. This is your fault for bein' so damn good at it. Cain't get enough of ya."

Ennis dropped his chin to hide his blush. "Never had a lesson," he mumbled.

Jack laughed again, and Ennis's heart knew its master. He would have a hard time refusing Jack anything. Even now, the thought of denying Jack what he so patently wanted was painful for Ennis. But how could Ennis simply turn his back on all the other responsibilities in his life and cleave only to this man?

He couldn't. The world would not let him. All they would ever have was this summer up here in the middle of nowhere, hidden from everything else. If Ennis knew nothing else, he knew this sad fact with the certainty of death, taxes, and the inhumanity of man. And in his own imperfect way, he tried to make peace with it.

When Jack looked up at him again with that dreamy, yearning gaze, Ennis put himself willingly under the spell being woven. By the alchemy of lust, Ennis was ready to wield his own magic by the time Jack got him unbuttoned. The hot, hungry stare his friend directed downward made Ennis feel about ten feet tall and ready to take on a tornado.

Which was handy, considering the way Jack came at him.

When Ennis couldn't take anymore without popping his cork, he turned Jack around and eased his spit shiny arousal into Jack's welcoming heat. Jack groaned his approval, bracing against the slow slide forward, pushing back eagerly. Ennis wrapped an arm around Jack's waist and found his hard flesh. Leaning his cheek against Jack's back, Ennis stroked him inside and out.

They had done this enough times that Ennis knew what it meant when Jack tightened up and held his breath for a few seconds. Sure enough, Jack's pecker jerked and squirted gooey cum. As if this were permission, as indeed it was, Ennis lengthened his stroke, clutching at Jack's shoulders. Jack craned his neck and Ennis leaned forward until their lips met in a wordless pledge.

Breaking off the kiss with a hoarse cry, Ennis found his release. He nuzzled blindly at Jack's nape as the sweetest feeling he'd ever known spread through him like a shot of good whiskey. Jack's hand covered his, lacing their fingers together, bringing them to his lips.

And again, Ennis wished he could freeze this moment, and dwell in it forever.

After they'd buttoned up, Jack went out to stand by the fire while Ennis saddled Cigar Butt. Before riding off, Ennis came up behind Jack and impulsively embraced him. Jack was half-asleep, logy and supple from their recent high jinks. When Ennis rocked him gently, Jack followed like a cloud blown to and fro by the wind.

The enchantment still on him, Ennis hummed a lullaby that gave voice to his contentment. Jack swayed, leaning against Ennis in implicit trust, never fearing that he would fall.

And then the song stopped, and the warmth at Jack's back was gone.

Jack turned to see Ennis swing effortlessly up into the saddle. Taking up the reins, Ennis touched heels to his mount's flanks. With a bunching of powerful muscles, the animal surged upslope, taking Ennis away to the high pasture.

Jack stood by the warm fire and watched as his heart's desire drew farther and farther away. He could still feel Ennis's arms around him, hear the warm baritone rumbling in his ear, and he was happy, needing for nothing, at peace.

And in Jack's eyes, in his heart and in his memory, it would be just like this. Always.