DISCLAIMER: You are about to read a story that is strictly FAN FICTION and in no way represents true accounts. I do not - nor do I wish to imply that - I know Jake Gyllenhaal, his private life or his sexual preferences. This is also true of all other celebrities represented in this story. This is a work of fiction based in homo-eroticism, so if you are not of legal age, or if this type of content might offend you, please move onto something else.
For everyone else - ENJOY! -------------------------------------------------------------------- First of all, thank you so much to everyone who has taken the time to email me. Your comments really are inspiring during this writing process! And thank you to all of my fellow writers who have shown such terrific support. It's been great getting to know all of you.
As always, I continue to thrive on everyone's comments/concerns/suggestions. You can keep in touch with me at avymac@hotmail.com (and I encourage you to do so, it makes my day, and I love making new acquaintances). Also, I can frequently by found at Chris's MSN group for `The Gyllenhaal Encounter': http://groups.msn.com/TheGyllenhaalEncounter/_whatsnew.msnw. It's a great Jake site - check it out of you haven't already.
Anyway, enough chit-chat, onto Part 4: --------------------------------------------------------------------
Much to my chagrin, Travis and I were unsuccessful at sneaking away from dinner. Dessert was served, along with tea and coffee, in the front sitting room, where a fire burned warmly in the fireplace. Travis sat on one end of the couch, while I sat on the other, Katy in the middle. She'd practically pushed Maggie out of the way to claim the spot. Everyone else sat scattered around in chairs.
We ate warm blueberry cobbler smothered in fresh whipped cream - quite possibly the best I'd ever tasted - and further discussed Hollywood. By that time, my inebriation was wearing off and I was rather tired of the topic - would much rather have been discussing horse breeding or the weather or life on Pluto. Plus, thoughts of Travis continued to distract me - the desire to nuzzle in the crook of his neck and breathe in his musky scent again running strong through my mind.
But even Arturo seemed fascinated by the idea of film-making, and so the conversation continued. Peter described some of the challenges of making 'Jarhead', including the debacle of me chipping my tooth with a rifle, which prompted Katy to move in for a closer look. As I opened my mouth and pressed my teeth together for her to see, she slid a hand on my thigh.
"I can't really tell," she commented, lingering, touching me, her eyes probing mine suggestively.
I sat forward to pick up my cup of green tea from the coffee table. As I took a sip I glanced over at Travis. His face was stone cold, staring at the back of Katy's head. Had he finally realized just how flirtatious she was being?
"So, Maggie," Katy chirped, shifting her position so that her arm was pressed tightly against mine, her breast cushioned into my bicep. "Is it true that Jake was once in a band?"
And suddenly there poured from her mouth a torrent of questions concerning me - but never asked directly to me, as though I wasn't even sitting there beside her. It was one of the most bizarre circumstances I had ever found myself in, and I was left completely dumbfounded.
"What's he like as a brother?" she asked. "Who was his first girlfriend? . .. . Who was his favorite co-star? . . . Does he have a girlfriend now? . . . What kind of girl does he like?"
And on and on.
Maggie remained good-humored about it, tripping over her answers lightly, never revealing too much, trying to make light of an awkward situation. Peter sat across from me, desperately trying to contain his laughter. Arturo feigned deafness and aloofness, while Travis's mother disappeared into the kitchen for more coffee.
Travis, on the other hand, became increasingly aggravated. He sat rigid, an ankle braced against one knee, a muscle twitching in his jaw, eyes burning a hole in the floor as he listened to question after question. I glanced at him and could tell right away that he was reaching his boiling point.
Finally, he spoke - in a low, venomous tone, never once looking up. "Katy, just shut the fuck up already."
Silence filled the room like a vacuum.
Katy glowered at him. Hesitated only a second before responding. "Excuse me, ass-wipe, but I wasn't talking to YOU."
Travis lifted his eyes to meet hers, his pupils dilated with a slow-rising fury. "No," he said. "But you're talking about Jake, and I'm pretty sure he'd tell you to shut up, too, if he wasn't so goddamn polite. So I'm telling you myself. Shut up or get the hell out of here."
She childishly stuck her middle finger up at him, feeling superior, and said, "Go fuck yourself, Travis."
Mrs. Cooper returned with coffee pot in hand, stopping midway. "What's going on, guys?" she asked lightly.
"I was just telling Travis to mind his own business," Katy sulked.
"And I was telling you to shut up, Katy," Travis snapped.
"I'm not doing anything wrong! Just asking a few harmless questions - "
"And causing everyone embarrassment, including yourself." Travis sat forward to face her directly. "So just fucking drop it, okay?"
"And I should give a crap what you say because . . .?"
Travis was struggling to contain his anger. "Because I SAID SO."
They glared at each for a moment; Travis with clenched jaw, Katy with fisted hands. The room seemed to close in on all of us.
I glanced over to Maggie, and she sat looking right back at me with tension covering her face. I decided to try and ease the moment by clapping my hands together and flashing my brightest, sparkling smile. "Boy, how 'bout them Colorado Avalanche, huh?," not even certain what the hell I was talking about.
But my attempt at pacification fell on deaf ears. Katy curled up against me again, pressing in closer, and said to Travis, "I have a newsflash for you, big brother. Something you probably hadn't noticed because you're always so caught up in your own queer fantasies . . . But Jake is h-e-t-e-r-o-s-e-x-u-a-l . . ." She spoke this last word slowly and deliberately, as if trying to communicate to a child, and then proceeded to plant a wet, sloppy kiss directly on my mouth.
"Katherine Elizabeth!" Mrs. Cooper shrieked.
I gently pulled myself away from Katy's arms and laughed, not wanting the situation to spiral out of control any further. But Travis was fully enraged now. He shot up from the couch and grabbed his sister by the elbow, quickly exiting the room with Katy tripping helplessly along behind him.
After they had gone, a silence fell upon us.
The grandfather clock chimed from the next room, announcing nine o'clock. >From elsewhere we heard Travis and Katy's muffled voices, clearly raised in anger. At one point, Katy screamed, "I can't fucking BELIEVE this! Are you fucking SERIOUS?!"
And that's when I sank back against the cushions of the couch, wishing I could just quietly disappear. I ran a hand over my face and tried to make sense of what had just transpired. Wondered why I suddenly felt the sensation of floating around in another dimension of space and time.
Mrs. Cooper stood in the middle of the room, the steaming coffee pot still perched in one hand. She held a look of utter distress on her thin face. Arturo stood and gently removed the coffee pot from her hands to place on a trivet on the table. As she looked at him, he smiled a toothless smile and whispered, "Kids will be kids, Elaine."
Suddenly, Katy stomped across the foyer, her bare feet padding against the floorboards. Without uttering a word to any of us as she passed, she bounded up the stairs two at a time, her black hair flying behind her.
Travis passed by us as well, grabbing his coat from the foyer and yanking the heavy oak door open. His mother called out to him, but it was too late; he exited, slamming the door shut behind him.
I glanced at everyone, waiting for God knows what. Perhaps for Ashton Kutcher to jump out from behind the curtains and exclaim that I'd been `Punk'd'. Or perhaps for the floorboards to suddenly crack open beneath the couch and suck me down.
But nothing that dramatic happened. Just awkward silence.
Although my desire to magically disappear was great, my desire to go after Travis was even greater. Seeing him erupt with anger the way he had had been unsettling, and I couldn't help but feel - at least to some degree - responsible for their sibling rift.
I stood up and quietly excused myself, thanking Mrs. Cooper for the wonderful meal and wishing everyone a good night. I caught Maggie's eye, and again a wordless communication passed between us, offering me strength. I smiled to her and stepped into the foyer to pull my coat on.
As I stepped outside, I braced myself for freezing cold but was met instead with a fairly mild evening - brisk yet calm, a cloudless sky overhead filled with a million stars. I didn't bother to zip up my coat as I trudged off towards the bunkhouse, intending to check there first for Travis before wandering off elsewhere.
The moon was high, almost full, offering a lighted path for me. I gazed up across the fields towards the snow-covered mountains beyond and wondered if we would still go snowboarding in the morning. At this point, it seemed irrelevant; so much had happened, I almost felt it might be best to go back to Aspen.
Just then, I heard the revving of a very loud engine, startling the quiet night air. I looked toward a distant barn and saw an ATV pull out, its fat tires grinding against the gravel as the driver maneuvered it across the ground. I knew it was Travis, dressed in his sheepskin corduroy coat, his blonde hair aglow. I cupped my hands to my mouth and yelled his name. Miraculously, he heard me and spun the ATV around.
He rode over to me and idled the engine. "Hop on," he insisted. He moved forward on the seat to make more room, and without a single hesitation, I hoisted a leg over and slid on.
We drove for quite awhile, following the same dirt and gravel path that seemed to go on endlessly. The property was so expansive, it was hard for me to believe that it had once been nearly three times the size. We passed several fenced pastures and an old rusted windmill, heading upwards until we came to a rise overlooking the ranch. Here, Travis stopped and cut the engine. We both slid from the seat, and I wandered away a few feet to admire the view.
It seemed that everywhere I looked in this part of Colorado, the sight was breathtaking.
Travis remained by the ATV, leaning against the seat to light a cigarette. I turned to him and watched the glow of the lighter flicker against his face.
"How 'bout one for me?" I asked, returning to his side.
He pulled the pack of Camels out and removed one, this time lighting it first before passing it to me.
"You sure Maggie won't sniff out the nicotine and hunt you down?" he said, his voice solemn.
I shook my head. Tried to make a joke, smiling broadly. "She'd never be able to hike up here that quickly."
Travis chuckled slightly, but I could tell that his mood was still somber. I tried to think of something funny or light-hearted to say, but I didn't get the chance to before he spoke himself. "I'm sorry about what happened back there," he commented, gazing off across the valley.
"Hey," I shrugged lightly, resting my hands on my hips. "It wasn't entirely your fault. I mean, I would say it was pretty clear who instigated what. Besides, we all know that sisters can be a big pain in the ass. And like you said earlier, I'm a hot Hollywood stud, so she can't help herself."
He didn't chuckle this time. Just nodded absently and continued to stare off into the night.
I studied his profile for a moment, admiring the strong line of his nose, the sharpness of his jaw, the way his straw-colored hair curled around the tip of his ear in tiny waves. Was convinced yet again that he was the most striking man I had ever seen.
Without thinking, I suddenly said, "Does everyone in your family know that you're gay?" It had been a question nagging at the back of mind ever since we'd arrived at the ranch, and although blurting it out now seemed imprudent, it was too late to withdraw.
Travis didn't blink an eye, as though the question was perfectly natural for him. He took a drag of his cigarette and flicked the ashes away. "My dad never knew," he replied. "He died before I had the courage to tell him."
A fleeting thought of my own father discovering this new path I'd tripped upon flashed before my eyes, sending an instant pang of anxiety down to my stomach. Self-proclamation was not something I was comfortable with. I couldn't imagine other people - aside from Maggie and Peter - learning of my interest in Travis.
I momentarily closed my eyes as the image of a newspaper spinning in large black-and-white print like a carnival ride flashed into view, a headshot of me and the words 'Gay Cowboy Really Gay' covering its front page. It was a frightening thought - possibly career-crushing if ever slipped to the media.
Definitely not something I wanted to think about that evening.
I brought the cigarette to my lips and sucked long and hard, hoping to calm my uneasiness with a little carcinogenic. It seemed odd that my propensity to smoke only occurred around Travis.
He looked at me, studying me briefly, and surprised me by saying, "I take it you've never come out?"
Never come out? . . . The inquiry bewildered me. What was Travis thinking? That I was a closet faggot, hiding my true identity from the world? That this wasn't my first real-life experience of being with a man?
"Shit, Travis," I said. "What the hell do YOU think?"
He frowned, a look of consternation covering his face. "I guess that means the answer is no."
"Yeah," I said. "I guess it does." I turned and wandered away from him, suddenly annoyed.
I stopped near the edge of a rocky slope and took one last puff on my cigarette before flicking it out into the open air. I watched it flutter down and disappear into the rocks below, and then felt Travis approach from behind, his body heat bouncing off of my back like tiny electrons. He whispered, "I'm sorry," and slid his arms around my waist. It was instantly gratifying.
I leaned into him, my back pressed to his chest, my head resting in the soft spot of his shoulder. I covered his thick hands with my own - and in that moment, all annoyance dissipated from me like the evaporation of an early morning fog.
Forget about the anxiety and uncertainty, I convinced myself. Just be with him. Enjoy the ride.
We stood together for awhile in peaceful silence, swaying slightly. Then I turned around in his arms and initiated a soft, long kiss. It felt great to be out in the middle of nowhere, with no concerns of sister Katy or anyone else appearing to spoil the moment.
Travis slid his hands inside my open coat and lifted my shirt a few inches to touch my stomach. The sensation of his cool fingers on my warm skin was unexpected, and the muscles of my abdomen twitched involuntarily.
His hands moved higher, positioning themselves just beneath my ribs, squeezing lightly. Goose bumps traveled up and down my spine. I kissed his mouth harder and yanked the zipper of his coat down to reach up under his shirt, my hands exploring his chest, feeling the light brushing of hair around his nipples, traveling down to trace the thin line of hair just below his navel. My fingers stopped at the waistline of his jeans, hooking loosely between the rough fabric and his skin.
Travis inhaled deeply and said, "Come here," pulling me down with him onto the hard, flat rock beneath us. The large stone was freezing cold, covered in patches of snow, but neither of us seemed to care. Travis hovered above me, still drowning me in a kiss, and slid his hand between my legs. I moaned instinctively.
In what seemed like one fluid motion, he had my belt unbuckled with one hand and was unsnapping my jeans, pulling the zipper down, his lips never leaving mine. He was experienced at this, that much was obvious. And as he reached inside my boxer briefs, I thought - shit - I'm going to cum straight away. But he barely touched my cock, just tickled my pubic hair and then pulled his hand back out to travel up my stomach. Once more, he pushed my shirt up until all of my chest was exposed to the cold night air.
His lips pulled away from my mouth and he moved down, kissing my chin, traveling over my adam's apple and down the length of my neck, his goatee lightly abrasing my skin. He even kissed the fabric of my bunched-up shirt, continuing a path downwards until he found my exposed nipples. There he lingered, flicking his tongue over each one, further intensifying my arousal.
I placed my hand lightly on the back of his head and watched as he moved farther down, drawing a thin line of saliva as he traveled, the cold air adding to the sensitivity. As he reached my stomach, he stopped to lick at my navel, encircling it with his tongue playfully before pushing it inside. As he explored in there for a moment, I squirmed, feeling uneasy yet incredibly aroused by the sensation. No one had ever done that to me before.
Travis then moved over to kneel between my legs, pulling at my jeans with his hands. I arched up to allow him to slide the denim down over my hips. He did the same with my underwear, and suddenly I lay there, fully exposed, teeth instantly chattering, my buttocks frozen to the rock beneath me, the chilled night air like ice on my burning erection.
He mumbled something about the thickness of my cock and then scooted down to take me in his mouth. He didn't play around with it, just swallowed it straight down to the hilt, startling the shit out of me. I moaned deeply and entwined my fingers in his hair.
He worked me like an expert, his movements quick and strong, his mouth sliding up and down in a smooth, steady rhythm, his fingers lightly squeezing my balls. It felt so incredible, and my balls were so desperate for release, that I reached my peak almost immediately. Too quickly.
"Aw fuck . . ." I gasped, grabbing tighter to his hair. "I'm gonna cum." I held tight to his head, forcing him down, not wanting him to stop, but he didn't attempt to pull away anyway - just allowed me to ejaculate straight into his mouth and down his throat, my pent-up sperm flowing freely from my relieved cock like waves crashing across his tonsils. Only a few small droplets of the sticky seed spilled out onto me, but Travis took great care to lap it all up, leaving nothing behind.
Afterwards, I lay panting - overwhelmed - trying to regain my senses. I released Travis's hair from between my fingers, and he slid forward to straddle above me, drowning me in a kiss once more. I could taste the saltiness of my cum in his mouth, and although under normal circumstances I would have found it disgusting, at that moment it was pretty fucking incredible. I pulled him closer. Felt his belt buckle scrape painfully against my groin.
I slid a hand down between his legs and discovered that he, too, was rock hard. I squeezed lightly and he moaned at my touch but inexplicably pulled away, sitting up on his haunches.
I leaned up on an elbow and looked at him imploringly. "Come here, you," I urged.
But he stood up and wiped the corners of his mouth with his thumb and forefinger. "Let's head back and get out of the cold," he suggested.
I hesitated, wanting to stay there forever despite the fact that my entire body pulsated in uncontrollable shivers, that the air was now freezing the sweat which lightly covered my torso and crotch.
My teeth began to chatter again. I said, "Let's stay awhile," and lifted a hand up to entice him to return to my side. But he just looked down at me, his hair falling across his forehead, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat.
"All right," I finally conceded, feeling somewhat disappointed. I hadn't expected it to end so soon. Reluctantly, I hoisted my pants back up, zipped and snapped them, and then stood from the rock.
All at once, an odd sensation of light-headedness overtook me, throwing me off-balance, and I swayed slightly.
Travis grabbed me by the elbow and said, "Hey, you okay?"
His concern was genuine, and I smiled. "Yeah," I replied. "I guess you must have sucked the air right out of me."
"It's the altitude," he claimed. "Happens to everyone not accustomed to it."
I didn't know if I quite believed his philosophy. Afterall, I'd already been in Colorado for four days, and by now I doubted the altitude could affect me in that way. But even so, it felt nice to have Travis's arm hooked with mine, keeping me steady as we walked back to the ATV.
"You okay?" he asked again.
I nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine."
Together we slid onto the seat. Travis jumped the ATV into life, sending a cacophony of noise across the silent valley, and I held on tight to his waist as we descended back down to the ranch.
------------------------------------------------------------------- Brokeback Mountain copyright 1997 by Dead Line, Ltd. / 2005 Focus Features LLC Jarhead copyright 2003 Anthony Swofford / 2005 Universal Studios Licensing LLLP -------------------------------------------------------------------
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