"...and he found ways to spend it." - 4
May. 9th, 2011 09:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morrobay1990Title: “...and he found ways to spend it.” - 4
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
morrobay1990
Genre: post canon
Warning:
Word count: 570
Disclaimer: Jack & Ennis are AP's
♥ Jack
”Down in Texas Jack's father-in-law died and Lureen, who inherited the farm equipment business, showed a skill for management and hard deals. Jack found himself with a vague managerial title, traveling to stock and agricultural shows. He had some money now and found ways to spend it."
“What should I...there's only one key...should I ask at the desk...”
“Just leave the door unlocked...twenty-eight? In the corner?”
“Yeah...yeah, ok...you comin right now?”
Oh, Jack could have fun with that one, but the kid was nervous enough as it was.
“Couple minutes...gonna go across the street for cigarettes and beer.”
“Okay.”
Ten minutes later Jack walked down the narrow hallway of the motel...it was a cheap place, almost empty of cars, the men he knew stayed where he did: in better hotels closer to where the show was held. It wasn't always this easy.
He got to the end and pushed the door to room twenty-eight open and shut it behind him, clicked the lock.
Michael was sitting on the bed staring at a small black and white tv that had a terrible picture, he looked up as Jack came in.
“Got whiskey instead of beer, hope you don't mind, beer ain't enough...” He threw a pack of Marlboros at him, “Light me one, would ya?”
Jack's mood was darkening. The usual questions had started. His mind was clouding with wants and needs and doubts and visions and Ennis, goddamn him.
What was he really doing here? Why was he here with this kid, this obviously inexperienced, nervous kid, in a cheap, tacky motel room about to try to get as drunk as he could and still perform.
“How old are you, Mike?”
“Twenty-nine.”
“Know how old I am?”
Michael shrugged his shoulders, “Old enough, I guess.”
Jack laughed at that, the tension lessened a little, “That I am.”
He went to the beat-up dresser and took two glasses off the tray, they were wrapped in paper and he ripped it off, unscrewed the top off the whiskey and filled the glasses to the top, handed one to Michael.
“So what should we drink to, huh?” The light moment had passed.
Jack continued, his voice strained and tired, his mood bordering on sorrowful, “What do you usually drink to when you're in a room with a guy old enough to be your....your very attractive older brother...when you're in a motel room with a perfect stranger?”
Michael took the glass and drank several swallows as he tried to evaluate the situation...it sure seemed to have changed since Jack walked in the door...he was totally different than he had been at dinner.
But the whiskey relaxed him, he looked over at Jack and replied, “Well, for one thing, I wouldn't exactly say you were perfect.”
That struck Jack funny, too, and the whiskey drunk fast was having the desired affect. He unbuttoned his shirt and unzipped his jeans then walked over to where Michael had stretched out on the bed, and stroked his face lightly, “What do you want to happen here?”
“I ain't a kid, y'know...I want the same thing you want...just didn't think it was gonna happen so fast...first night n'all... and with somebody...” He stopped and drank some more.
“Somebody...what?” Jack waited for him to say “old”, or some softened-up version of it.
“Good-lookin. Wanted to grab you back at that restaurant...when you kept lookin over at me...shit, I was ready right then.”
Jack started to slip his jeans down without taking his eyes off Michael, “You better get started boy, I'm way ahead a you...”
Author:
morrobay1990Genre: post canon
Warning:
Word count: 570
Disclaimer: Jack & Ennis are AP's
♥ Jack
”Down in Texas Jack's father-in-law died and Lureen, who inherited the farm equipment business, showed a skill for management and hard deals. Jack found himself with a vague managerial title, traveling to stock and agricultural shows. He had some money now and found ways to spend it."
“What should I...there's only one key...should I ask at the desk...”
“Just leave the door unlocked...twenty-eight? In the corner?”
“Yeah...yeah, ok...you comin right now?”
Oh, Jack could have fun with that one, but the kid was nervous enough as it was.
“Couple minutes...gonna go across the street for cigarettes and beer.”
“Okay.”
Ten minutes later Jack walked down the narrow hallway of the motel...it was a cheap place, almost empty of cars, the men he knew stayed where he did: in better hotels closer to where the show was held. It wasn't always this easy.
He got to the end and pushed the door to room twenty-eight open and shut it behind him, clicked the lock.
Michael was sitting on the bed staring at a small black and white tv that had a terrible picture, he looked up as Jack came in.
“Got whiskey instead of beer, hope you don't mind, beer ain't enough...” He threw a pack of Marlboros at him, “Light me one, would ya?”
Jack's mood was darkening. The usual questions had started. His mind was clouding with wants and needs and doubts and visions and Ennis, goddamn him.
What was he really doing here? Why was he here with this kid, this obviously inexperienced, nervous kid, in a cheap, tacky motel room about to try to get as drunk as he could and still perform.
“How old are you, Mike?”
“Twenty-nine.”
“Know how old I am?”
Michael shrugged his shoulders, “Old enough, I guess.”
Jack laughed at that, the tension lessened a little, “That I am.”
He went to the beat-up dresser and took two glasses off the tray, they were wrapped in paper and he ripped it off, unscrewed the top off the whiskey and filled the glasses to the top, handed one to Michael.
“So what should we drink to, huh?” The light moment had passed.
Jack continued, his voice strained and tired, his mood bordering on sorrowful, “What do you usually drink to when you're in a room with a guy old enough to be your....your very attractive older brother...when you're in a motel room with a perfect stranger?”
Michael took the glass and drank several swallows as he tried to evaluate the situation...it sure seemed to have changed since Jack walked in the door...he was totally different than he had been at dinner.
But the whiskey relaxed him, he looked over at Jack and replied, “Well, for one thing, I wouldn't exactly say you were perfect.”
That struck Jack funny, too, and the whiskey drunk fast was having the desired affect. He unbuttoned his shirt and unzipped his jeans then walked over to where Michael had stretched out on the bed, and stroked his face lightly, “What do you want to happen here?”
“I ain't a kid, y'know...I want the same thing you want...just didn't think it was gonna happen so fast...first night n'all... and with somebody...” He stopped and drank some more.
“Somebody...what?” Jack waited for him to say “old”, or some softened-up version of it.
“Good-lookin. Wanted to grab you back at that restaurant...when you kept lookin over at me...shit, I was ready right then.”
Jack started to slip his jeans down without taking his eyes off Michael, “You better get started boy, I'm way ahead a you...”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-05-10 04:18 am (UTC)Dang, just realized I jumped in at part 4. Off to read from the beginning...
no subject
Date: 2011-05-10 11:15 am (UTC)He calls him Mike instead of Michael, as he is asked to, because it doesn't matter to him what his name is...that's part of his "sorrowful" mood...it should only ever be Ennis he is with, not some nameless, faceless body.
I changed the wording to connect who said what...sorry about that, glad you pointed it out.