This is my sundown

[jack_f_twist]

It was black for a long time.

And it's still dark, and the air should be warm, smelling like canvas and sweat and horse and old leather, but instead he's cold, and huddles down, curling into himself to get warm again. Instead of wiry grass against his skin, there's only a firm softness, and he stretches one arm out to pull Lureen

(Ennis)

closer, but there's nothing there and all he grabs hold of is a sheet--not even a blanket or a pillow.

And he has one fuck-all of a headache.

It isn't until he rolls onto his back and blinks, trying to adjust his eyes in the darkness, that he realizes that the stifling air smells sweet, and warm. Like peaches. And

"Shit!" He sits up, abruptly, and immediately regrets it. Waves of nausea washe through him, his head pounding like he'd drank at least an entire bottle of bad whiskey the night before--

But.

But he hadn't been drinking. He'd been--hell, he'd been on the road, and the goddam truck had taken one final sharp rock to the paper-thin tires, and he'd stopped to fix it, and everything kinda got blurry from there. He remembers shapes, black against the bright afternoon sun, and something swinging at him--

clang
               (and it burns burns burns)

He touches the bridge of his nose gingerly, and for a long moment his breathing stops.
               (that ring of fire)





















Fuck.

Comments

[true_desire]

"If you want," comes a familiar voice: There's a click, a catch of flint, and the unmistakable scent of tobacco and paper burning. Not the roll-your-own or Marlboro variety, but the exotic, spicy version that somehow accentuates the scent of peaches.

"I've never been one to turn down a pretty face. -- They did a number on yours, didn't they?"

Desire's golden eyes swim into view, mouth shut against a cigarette as he draws the smoke in.

[jack_f_twist]

Shit.

"Shit!"

He pushes himself to the edge of the bed, staring into the dim room. The glowing cigarette tip makes him squint, but he doesn't rise to the jibe in Desire's voice.

Anger almost drowns out the panic in his voice.

"Fuck're you doing here?"

[true_desire]

"Tch." The scoff is gentle, almost friendly, and there's a sly, wide grin on Desire's face: He offers Jack one of those wicked winks of his before ashing the cigarette and continuing. "Fuck, Twist, you know me. I show in the unlikeliest places."

"Still, if you don't want a friendly face..."

[jack_f_twist]

Unbelieving, and not listening, Jack feels his nose, his cheeks, his jaw. He winces as he presses at a tender spot just along the bridge of his nose, but it's no more than a bruise, easily healed in a few days, not--

He looks back up at Desire, uncomprehending.

"The fuck am I?" and it could be where, could be who, could be a fair many things, but Jack Twist, not yet twenty years old, is for once at a loss for words.

[true_desire]

"Waiting," Desire advises him, settling comfortably onto the bed and never-minding that he wasn't invited: Some things never change.
Still, it's less something sexual predatory in his odd-colored eyes than concern, and the seat Desire's picked is rather close to the edge... Awful easy to get back up if Jack doesn't seem too keen on company.

"So tell me, Jack. What do you want?"

[jack_f_twist]

His laugh comes low and lost, but could be he eases a bit to feel the weight of the other man pressing the mattress down.

"Now that's a hell of a question," he chuckles, and he almost sounds amused. Glancing over at Desire, he grins, without humor.

"Ain't like I ever got fuck-all, whether I wanted it or not." His pulse is racign and thready in his throat, and though he's keeping his voice steady, there's a distinct rasp of breath beneath it. His shoulders remain tense and hunched.

[true_desire]

"Hey." Desire's voice is suddenly soft and quiet, the reply seeming more instinct than concious. Too-warm hands reach out, lightly touching those hunched shoulders and leaning him toward where the bed sinks under the other man's weight if Jack seems the slightest bit amiable. "Hey, Jack. None o' that, now."

"We've known each other a good while, haven't we?"

[jack_f_twist]

His breathing quickens at the touch of those fever-warm hands, and then slows again, and maybe Jack ain't never been much of one for control, but he nods, and maybe leans into the touch.

His whole body is thrumming with energy, and he wants to fight, to jump up, to yell, to--

He hasn't felt this good in twenty years.

He hasn't felt this shit in almost as long.

"Somethin ain't right," he mutters, but it's low and he can feel himself easing under Desire's touch.

"Yeah. Long time."

[true_desire]

Desire chuckles softly, the sound almost an agreement -- Somethin' ain't right, Jack, and that's the truth. Still, there's no way to know that Desire's heard or not, quiet as the words were: All it takes is that slight lean as encouragement, and those fever-warm hands ghost over Jack's back, working at the tension in those shoulders.

The scent of peaches and tobacco and the warmth of the other man might be reassuring in this cold: Something familiar to hang on to, something that isn't leaving poor Jack alone in the dark.
Someone else that knows what Jack's been chasing his whole life.

"Long enough that I hope you know I don't mean you any harm."

[jack_f_twist]

"Don't rightly think you could get me any worse'n they did." It's almost a parody of a laugh, but at least the deadly race of his heart has slowed slightly, and his hand traces his nose again, moving a little jerkily, as if it isn't quite under his own control. He winces as his fingers press at the sensitive spot.

"You there, too?" Watching, on the sidelines. Maybe Desire'd come along with hisherit's big sister.

Maybe Jack just hopes he wasn't alone in the dark.

As he closes his eyes, he takes a deep breath. Damn, he'd hated that scent, of peaches and the weird spices Desire uses in hisherits cigarettes, but damn if it isn't kinda good to have them here again, surrounding him.

[true_desire]

Even gay-bashers want something -- so, yeah. Maybe in a way.
Still, Desire just shrugs, noncommital as his arm slips around to rest against Jack's side, holding the man in a loose half-hug.

"'M here now. That counts for something, doesn't it?" And Desire is here, and damned if it isn't feeling like Desire sees Jack as the only guy in the world.

(And isn't that what Jack wanted?)

[jack_f_twist]

It's not a sigh, exactly, so much as it is a release, and maybe Jack knows he's being cheated--

but how can that be true, if Desire is Desire and how can his own wants cheat him?

--but either way he leans into the warmth next to him, his eyes open. The idea of sleep

(if I die before I wake)

brushes loosely across his mind and he ignores it, too keyed up to feel the tiredness that he knows is there.

"So where'm I?" he mumbles after a long while during which he'd moved a little closer, relaxed a little further.

"This ain't...where I was." Or when he was. But who's keeping an eye on the details?

[true_desire]

"You don't want to go back." The tone's a gentle sort of sarcasm, pitched to amuse rather than sting -- and it's certainly true. "Let's just say you're moving on."

Desire gives a little nudge with the shoulder Jack's leaning on, rolling the man's head a little closer in.
If Desire were Jack's type, this would be kissing distance.
If he wanted it.

"And now you get to choose where you go next."

[jack_f_twist]

Desire is Jack's type. Desire is everyone's type.

And it can't be said that Jack ain't interested, because for a minute, there's a gleam in the blue eyes that mirrors the heat of golden ones, before they fall, and he shrugs.

"Don't know what you mean. Ain't got much of a place to go. Feel like I been dreamin, stuck. And then, bere I am."

He snorts a laugh.

"Momma believed in Heaven 'n Hell. Always figured I'd be marchin right off to the second one when the time came."

There's a silence, and the humor drains out of his face as he glances up, quickly.

"Guess this is it, huh?"

[true_desire]

Desire smirks, not unkindly. "Jack, you have got a thing or two to learn about taking what you want."
And like that, the hand not resting on Jack's side is tracing the line of the man's throat with a knuckle, not ticklish but slow and promissory.

"You've got everywhere to go. What do you want? Heaven? Hell? Another life? Another chance?"

[jack_f_twist]

"Yeah, well, taking what I wanted ain't worked out so well for me in the past, has it?"

He lifts his head, slightly, feeling the warm blood following the line of Desire's finger.

"Another chance," he says, slow and thoughtful. It isn't an answer, exactly.

"Guess you already know what I want." As he looks, Desire's eyes flash hazel, bright even in this dim room. Past the scent of peach and spices, he can smell sweat and grass and horses, and Ennis, and the want burns even brighter, lighting him from the inside--a fire to push away the cold.

He feels fine. He feels fine. And he sure as hell ain't gonna think to hard on how he should be feeling (or how he shouldn't by rights be feeling anything at all) for a long while, or at least not till he's gotten a few stiff drinks into him.

For now, he pushes it aside and leans into Desire.

[true_desire]

Desire grins, both at the complaint and at the further Jack leans, and the Endless' head tilts just so -- breathing his breath, seeming less than a hair's bredth away.

"It's not so much taking what you want that's the problem," Jack's companion advises, voice low and almost husky. "It's being afraid of the result."

Desire holds.
Testing.

[jack_f_twist]

"The result's been me gettin beat 'n fucked over for twenty years," he says, but his mind ain't exactly on what he's saying.

What Desire offers is warmth.

Life.

He can't be dead if he's feeling that, and he shivers.

"Result's the tire iron. Like Ennis always said, I guess." And then, low, like an inside joke, or maybe to himself, "That ain't it, can't be. Dead men don't want for nothin."

And he wants. Of everything that is dark and out of balance around him, its the one thing he's sure of.

Wryly, "Sure never thought you'd figure in my dream--or whatever this is. Not like this, anyhow."

[true_desire]

Desire's mouth makes a faint tch as Jack runs on about what life was and how he died -- but there's a raise of one eyebrow and a faintly wicked grin at the mention of 'dreams.'

"Dreams aren't my specialty, Jack... So you've thought of me, then."

He is teasing
It isn't really a question.

[jack_f_twist]

There's a grunt of laughter, and Jack shakes his head slowly.

"Not you."

[true_desire]

"Mm. It all depends on your point of view."
Desire grins, a flash of white. "That particular charm work on everyone, Jack Twist, or are you just trying to shoot holes in my ego?"

[jack_f_twist]

The grin sparks an answering smile, small but genuine, even though Jack directs it at the floor.

"Don't figure it couldn't take much damage," he admits, "but I meant--guess just not you, like you look now."

Wry now, "I ain't gotten rid a you yet. Figure you been along for the whole damn ride."

[true_desire]

There's a wry twist of those familiar lips.

"Hopefully, the company's good."

[jack_f_twist]

"Best there is," he says, and the smile grows a little wider again before turning on itself and fading away.

[true_desire]

If Desire notices the fade, he makes no comment: Matter of fact, he picks this moment to look away, fiddling in a suddenly present cellophane pack for a fresh cigarette.

"Here," he says, shaking the filtered end out of the paper. "Bet you could use one of these."

He lights up one-handed, not waiting to see whether Jack to take one or not: There's a pause where the flame remains dancing in the golden lighter, warm light flickering in those familiar eyes.

[jack_f_twist]

He nods his thanks, takes the offered cigarette and holds it to his lips, waiting for Desire to come through with a light, and the other man doesn't disappoint him. He takes a deep drag at the cigarette, bites the smoke back, and it tastes good, spicy and sweet all at once.

"Brokeback," he says, eventually, and exhales smoke in a thin stream. "To answer your question."

[true_desire]

"Tch."

Desire exhales, a swirling stream of spicy-sweet smoke: It curls into almost heart-shaped figures before vanishing into whatever place smoke goes, here in the dark. "I don't think you can have that anymore, Jack. Not unless you want to haunt the place. Rules, you see."

[jack_f_twist]

"Hell, I know that."

He holds the cigarette between thumb and forefinger, looks down at the glowing end thoughtfully.

And maybe, instead of seeing the smodering end of a cigarette, he's seeing a small campfire, bright against the purple-dark hunch of the mountains.

"Couldn't even get back up there when I had the chance. 'Sides, what I've wanted ain't hardly ever been the same as what I got. But feelin' like that, havin' that place..."

He trails off, and it's funny, but maybe if he were looking a little harder at Desire right now, he wouldn't be seeing the golden eyed gentleman at all.

"I'm supposed to go back, though," he says, more firmly. "When it's all over. I told Lureen."

[true_desire]

Desire might be a bit too quiet now, interested in drawing out the next drag a little longer than normal.
Could also all be in Jack's imagination. Wouldn't be the first time he'd seen something that wasn't there, after all.

"Right," Desire says in almost a sigh, huffing out the smoke. "Still doesn't tell me what you want now -- not that I'm meaning to rush you, Jack, but my Siblings aren't big on other Endless dicking around in their domain."

[jack_f_twist]

He doesn't answer right away, just lifts the cigarette to his lips and takes a pull at it, holds the smoke in and then lets it out slow.

"Why?" he asks, after a silence that probably hadn't stretched as long as it felt like. "You gonna make it come true for me? I don't want a leave, but I ain't got much keepin me here. Can't go back to the way it used a be, and that weren't even all that good."

And maybe Desire's brother ain't ever had too much of a hold on Jack, but there's a little bit of Despair in his voice anyhow, light as he tries to keep it.

[true_desire]

"Me? No. I never give people what they want, Jack -- Haven't you figured that out yet?" And if Desire's a bit snappish and curt now, eying the dark as if he expected some sort of bogey monster to spring out of it -- Well, that's all got to be imagination anyway, right?

"I just like you, and I want you to want ... Something more than this. More than nothing."

[jack_f_twist]

"I want a hell of a lot more than nothin'. Want my daddy to quit hatin' on me, want Bobby to grow up smart and strong, f'r Ennis to make up his fuckin mind--"

But he stops short there, and turns his head to look over his shoulder at Desire. His mouth quirks, slightly, at the other man's expression.

"What, somethin' comin to getcha?"

[true_desire]

"Death."

Desire's smile is mirthless.

"Possibly. It wouldn't be the first time I've meddled in my sister's affairs and deserved -- well. Trust me, Jack, you don't want to see her mad."

[jack_f_twist]

"Huh."

It's half-laughed. He turns back to his cigarette, bowing his head. Still, the wry half-smiling curve of his mouth can be seen dimly.

"Nice enough gal. Surely wouldn't want to be on her bad side, though."

A drag, and a cloud of smoke drifting with his words.

"Don't mean t'be gettin you in trouble with your family."

[true_desire]

"Of course Death's nice. She loves everybody, even me."

Breath.

"Tch. You think I need you to cause trouble with my Family, Jack? I can do that well enough on my own."

The wave is dismissive, leaving trailing curls of smoke behind as Desire's hand moves -- but the words are tight, rushed.

"Look. You've talked to her. More than once. What else has she told you about her erstwhile younger Sibling?"

[jack_f_twist]

He shrugs, leans his forearms along his thighs and looks at the wall of the room as if seeing something different--the curve of the moon rising, the curve of a bone-white smile.

"Not much. Said you was related, is all." A snort. "'S if I couldn'ta told that myself."

[true_desire]

Desire smirks a moment.
"Then she probably didn't fill you in on Regulus, did she."

[jack_f_twist]

A lift of the eyebrows, and Jack glances back at Desire, curious despite himself.

"Regulus, huh? Ain't I heard you mention him before?"

[true_desire]

"Mmhm. But there's something I didn't tell you." The smirk broadens into a wicked grin.

"Want details?"

[jack_f_twist]

"'m fairly sure I don't." And yet he's grinning, a little, and makes a motion with the hand holding the cigarette--now burned almost down to the filter--for the other fella to continue.

[true_desire]

"Sure you do. How often you get to hear about a couple guys livin' together, let alone sharing a place with a grown daughter?" Desire takes a moment to start another cigarette off the smoldering end of his own, chain-lighting it and passing it over to Jack.

"But there's something you need to know, Jack. Regulus and Meg... Well, they're both dead. Murdered well before what folks would call their time."

[jack_f_twist]

And where the whiskey flows in streams?

But Jack just takes the lighted cigarette silently, pinching out his old one, and takes a deep pull at it.

It tastes bizarrely like peaches.

"Shame," is all he says, but he's listening now, intent. It's in the way he hunches his shoulders, in how his eyes focus on just one spot ahead of him without really seeing it.

[true_desire]

"Point is, Regulus was nineteen, ended up in Milliways. He's made a new life for himself there, and not all of it because he met me."

Desire pinches his own cigarette out, playing with his lighter rather than starting a new cigarette. Shh-click, the heart snapping open and shut.

"Meg's been nearly able to pick up nearly where she left off. Her boyfriend waited for her, you see."

Shh-click.

"Now. Was there something you wanted?"

[jack_f_twist]

Still looking away, Jack purses his lips, and then takes a pull of smoke.

And one more.

His free hand comes up to rub at his nose, scrub over his jaw, still gingerly.

I don't want to say goodbye

"Yeah," he says, finally. "Reckon there is."

When he looks up, it's into hazel eyes and a shy sort of smile and for a second he almost sinks under the weight of his own anger and hurt, and then he nods, curtly.

"Reckon maybe there's a few things I oughta see to--one more place I wanta get to, 'fore I head anywhere else. 'f your sister don't mind."

It's a funny thing, Desire. Sometimes it makes you make all kinda crazy decisions, sometimes makes you go where you know you'd better not, sometimes makes you think things you know you shouldn't.

And sometimes it's fucking hard to quit.

[true_desire]

"Imagine you can ask her that yourself. If you want."

Desire's weight shifts on the bed, and then he's standing: If there's still something painfully familiar in the golden(hazel)eyes and the face around them, there's probably little familiar in the gesture as Desire reaches back for him, hand out to help him out of bed.
(can't quit you)
"Time's wasting, Jack. C'mon."
You've got your whole afterlife ahead of you.