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! --------------------------------------------------------------------
Well, with the 4th of July holiday occurring last week, it took me a little longer than anticipated to get this out. But - hopefully - it will be worth the wait. J
As always, I continue to thrive on everyone's comments/concerns/suggestions. You can keep in touch with me at avymac@hotmail.com. I enjoy corresponding with everyone, so don't be afraid to drop me a line - no matter what's on your mind!
And a special little shout-out goes to Drew and Tim - you know who you are - thanks for sharing your thoughts with me. --------------------------------------------------------------------
As morning crept in, I slowly awoke to the rich aroma of freshly-made coffee greeting my nostrils. I lay on my stomach beneath a flannel sheet, listening to the sound of a dog barking off in the distance. I stretched and yawned and reached an arm out across the bed for Travis but found only an empty mattress. I rolled up onto an elbow, took a quick survey of the room, and realized that Travis was gone from the bunkhouse.
I slid my hand over to rest in the hollow of his pillow and then brought the pillow to my face, inhaling the slight fragrance of his body sweat mingled with soap, feeling an immediate stirring in my groin.
The barking continued, and curiosity led me out of the bed and over to the window. I pulled back the curtains and discovered Travis at the horse stables, loading a chestnut mare up into the back of an equestrian trailer. Derry was hooked to a leash at the side of the building, barking incessantly while a small boy, three or four years old, taunted her with a long stick.
I stepped over to the door and pulled it open, wanting to direct the boy's attention elsewhere, but then realized that I had no clothes on whatsoever. I shut the door and looked around and found my jeans from yesterday bunched up on the floor. Without even bothering with underwear, I slid the pants on. Grabbed Travis's t-shirt and pulled it over my head.
But when I returned to the door and stepped out onto the porch, the little boy was already being led away by his mother, earnestly scolded. Derry took a few minutes to settle down, pacing in circles until her leash caught up under her legs. Then she plopped down onto the ground and seemed to content herself with lying there.
I realized, then, that a fresh blanket of snow covered the ground - not too much but enough to surprise me. I was suddenly anxious to go snowboarding and so quickly turned back into the house.
Next to the pot of coffee was an empty mug with a note that read: "Had to take care of some business. Help yourself to a shower."
I poured myself a cup of the steaming liquid and searched in the refrigerator for some milk to put in it. I took a sip and then dug my toiletry case out from the bottom of my overnight bag, deciding that today was the day I would shave my face clean.
The bathroom was small, with one tiny window and an ancient clawfoot bathtub. The mirror was still fogged over from the steam of Travis's shower, so I grabbed a towel to wipe it down and then proceeded to pull out my electric razor. It took quite awhile for me to shave everything, and when the task was complete, the reflection in the mirror startled me. I looked five years younger.
"You are one handsome motherfucker, Gyllenhaal," I teased, jutting out my lower jaw.
The showerhead of the clawfoot tub was strung up on an old pipe, and I had to fiddle with the faucet for a minute to get everything in working order. I stripped, stepped into the tub, pulled the curtain tight and stood basking in the scalding heat of the water, letting it pour over my head and down my back.
I felt better than I had in days. The mattress of Travis's bed was covered in a soft down featherbed, and so my sleep had been one of the best ever. Aside from being tucked under the sheets at some point during the night, I hadn't awakened, not even once.
I turned my face up into the hot water and allowed the sharp beads of moisture to pelt my skin. Soon thoughts of last night crept into view, sliding across my memory like the panels of a slow-motion movie - Travis naked, his lengthy cock in my hand, the taste of his pre-cum on my tongue . .. . even the sensation of his fingers in my asshole . . . everything brought a new sense of stimulation to me as I stood there in the shower. Truth was, I had never been more aroused than I'd been last night, and the recollection of that excitement now caused an instant, raging hard-on.
I lathered soap into my hands and started to stroke myself, bracing my other arm against the shower pipe to lean forward, the sensation of water rolling down my neck and back adding to the pleasure. My thoughts were of Travis - licking my cock, swallowing me, sucking me in deeper and deeper until I was down his throat. And then I envisioned his fingers sliding into me, filling up my hole, stretching me open, rubbing against my prostate. This thought in particular got me hotter, and I released my cock to slip a still-soapy finger into my asshole, my left leg perched up on the rim of the tub.
"Fuck . . ." I muttered. Pressed my forehead directly against the water pipe so that I could begin stroking my cock with my other hand. The hard metal of the pipe hurt my head, but I didn't care. Was far beyond arousal at that point.
I started stroking myself faster, trying to slide my finger further into my asshole, frustrated at the awkward position, suddenly wishing Travis was there to assist me. Suddenly wishing his cock was in there, fucking the living shit out of me. This thought sent me over the edge, and I came immediately, my semen spurting out in long, thick ropes, circling down into the drain.
Afterwards, I stood in spasms, gasping, my forehead still pressed against the pipe. My excitement over the thought of Travis penetrating me was disconcerting, but I didn't even bother to analyze it. It was what it was, whether I understood it or not.
Once catching my breath, I quickly finished my shower and headed into the main room to get dressed, drying off along the way. I slid into my snowboarding attire, which consisted of base layers, a pair of olive-green vented pants and a navy-blue insulated waterproof jacket. After I was dressed, I peered out of the front window and discovered the equestrian trailer gone, along with both Travis and Derry. I flipped off the coffee maker and grabbed everything I would need for the day - cell phone, goggles, beanie hat, gloves, snowboard boots and snowboard - and headed out towards the house.
The air was much colder than yesterday, causing my breath to escape in puffs as I walked down the path. Despite the early hour, the sun was already shining brightly, blinding me. I slid my sunglasses on and passed the horse stables, catching sight of Travis through the large open door. He was talking softly to a beautiful buckskin horse, rubbing the animal's nose while the horse leaned into him, licking something from the palm of his hand. It was an intimate moment, Travis and the horse in quiet conversation, and I watched for a moment, fascinated by this human/equine chemistry. I was not a horse person - understood human/canine relationships much better - and so watching Travis in this light intrigued me.
The heavy stench of manure and damp hay was overwhelming, and I sneezed slightly, causing Travis to turn his head. Smiling, he said, "Good morning."
"Good morning." I set me snowboarding gear down and pushed the sunglasses to the top of my head. I wasn't sure how Travis would react to me this morning after my diatribe of last night, so I stepped through the door but remained a slight distance away, my hands shoved into the pockets of my jacket.
Travis peered at me rather oddly, a crooked grin covering his face.
"What?" I said.
"You shaved," he commented.
I rubbed at my smooth jaw, already having forgotten about it. "Yeah. I figured - it's a new day, I'll make a fresh start." I meant the statement on more than one level, and Travis nodded as if he understood, which I had little doubt that he did.
"You look really good," he said.
"Thanks." I moved closer, and the buckskin whinnied, moving his head up and down as if in greeting.
Travis patted the horse just below the eyes and said, "This is Red Cloud."
"Hello, Red Cloud." I reached out a hand to rub his neck, the feel of his coarse hair coupled with the sinuous muscle creating a powerful texture.
"Do you ride?" Travis asked.
I shook my head. "Not really. I haven't had much of an opportunity since 'Brokeback'. For so long now I've been filming movies back-to-back, running across the globe to promote everything, my plate overflowing with projects . .. . I don't know. It's been a whirlwind. This trip to Colorado has been the first real vacation I've had in a long time."
Travis studied me, hearing every word. "Well, maybe we can go riding tomorrow before leaving for Aspen."
The reality of his words hit me, and I looked down and away, feeling a slight constriction in my throat. I didn't want to return to Aspen. I didn't want to fly back to California. I didn't want to face the real world. I didn't want to leave the ranch and Travis and everything that had occurred between us.
Travis touched my face, and as I looked up, he moved in and kissed me softly, the familiar feel of his hands cupping my jaw drawing me in further. Again, all anxiety slipped away from me like waves rolling out to sea. What special gift did this man possess that he could calm me with the mere touch of his hands every time?
A clearing of someone's throat in the open doorway separated us, and we turned to find Curtis standing there, a line of coiled rope in his hands. "Morning," he said.
"Morning," Travis and I both sputtered, shifting nervously.
Red Cloud whinnied again, and Travis and I instinctively reached out a hand to touch him. We glanced at each other in silent laughter, feeling ridiculous, like a couple of school kids caught kissing in the playground. But Curtis seemed completely indifferent to what he had witnessed, going about his business as if we weren't even there.
"Come on," Travis said to me, grabbing a hold of my hand. "Mom'll be pissed if we miss breakfast."
On our way out, I said goodbye to Curtis. He nodded courteously, hoisting a heavy saddle in his hands, and said, "You guys enjoy the day."
The backdoor of the farmhouse entered directly into the kitchen, and as we stepped inside we found Arturo, Peter and Travis's mom already seated at the round oak table indulging in breakfast - an exquisite spread of thick waffles, croissants, sliced melon, country potatoes and red and green pepper scrambled eggs. My mouth watered instantly at the sight and aroma.
As I removed my jacket I caught Peter looking at me, snickering. He said in sarcasm, "Good morning, babyface."
I slid a hand to my cheek, once again forgetting that I was clean-shaven. I tried to think of a quick retort to throw back at him, but Travis's mom was motioning to the empty chairs, saying, "Have a seat, boys. Join us."
I sat next to Travis and accepted the platters of food being passed to me, my stomach rumbling in hungry anticipation. It did not take long to fill up my plate, and soon I was indulging in a huge bite of waffle, the thick maple syrup slithering down my chin.
"Where's Mags?" I asked through a mouthful of food, forgetting my table manners altogether.
"She's not feeling too good this morning," Peter replied, a trace of grief in his voice. He undoubtedly felt a certain amount of guilt for placing my sister in that condition.
Mrs. Cooper set a steaming mug of coffee before me and said, "I took her some herbal tea and saltines earlier."
I glanced up at her. Figured that, like Travis, she possessed the same intuition to know that Maggie was pregnant. "That was nice of you," was the only comment I could think of to say.
She smiled and slid back into her seat, forking cantaloupe slices onto her plate. "So are you looking forward to your snowboarding excursion today, Jake?" she asked.
"Definitely," I replied.
"Good. But, beware," she warned. "Travis isn't always prudent when picking a slope to go down." She glanced at her son, as if warning him to take care, and a private communication passed between them.
Travis shifted his gaze away, sliding his eyes casually over to Peter. "It would have been great if you could've joined us, Peter."
Peter set his glass of orange juice down and wiped a napkin across his mouth. "Yes, it would have. But - alas - injury prevails." He looked directly at me in playful accusation, lips pursed.
"You suck at snowboarding anyway," I commented flippantly, intending to arouse his aggravation, which it did.
"How would you know, babyface?" he sneered. "Ever been snowboarding with me?"
"No," I replied. "But you suck at skiing, so snowboarding should be no different."
We'd unknowingly created a heavy tension around the table, everyone instantly uncomfortable. Perhaps the after-effects of last night's tryst between Travis and Katy still lingered in the air, heightening everyone's sensitivity. How were they to know that Peter and I bantered back and forth like this all the time and that it meant nothing?
Just then, Katy waltzed in, dressed in full snowboarding gear, her hair pulled back in a thick black braid. "Good morning everyone!" she sang, then sat down, grabbed a croissant, and began pulling the crusty flakes apart to pop into her mouth.
Travis must have noticed my surprise, because he leaned in and whispered, "Did I forget to mention that she's coming with us?"
I couldn't help but feel instantly crestfallen. I wanted Travis all to myself, I didn't care if it was selfish. And the tension between Katy, Travis and myself still lingered no matter how hard everyone tried to ignore its presence.
Travis touched my knee under the table, and I glanced at him. His eyes expressed regret, and I realized that he hadn't wanted it, either, but perhaps felt the need to be the mature one, the one to extend an olive branch in hopes of dispelling the friction once and for all. I respected him for this and slid a hand on top of his to let him know that I understood.
After breakfast ended, I assisted with the dishes while Travis returned to the bunkhouse to change. Mrs. Cooper and I talked briefly, and then I wandered upstairs to check on Maggie. She was still lying in bed, hugging a pillow between her arms, her complexion a pale shade of green. The cup of tea and saltines sat on a table beside her, untouched. Upon my entrance, she forced a small smile and said, "Hey."
"Hey," I returned.
Peter was sitting in an armchair near the window, flipping through a magazine, his injured leg propped up on a red and white tapestry ottoman. He nodded a greeting to me but kept quiet.
I took a seat on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb the mattress too much, and said, "How are you feeling?"
"Pretty lousy," she replied. Her voice was thin, scratchy. "How about you?"
"I'm good."
Her fingers graced my cheek. "It's been a long time since I've seen your chin, little brother."
I smiled. "I thought today might be a good day for it."
"Hmmm . . ." She smiled again. "Are you guys leaving soon?"
"Just waiting for Travis to get ready."
She reached out a hand to touch my arm and inquired, "How's everything else going?"
I studied her. Knew what she was really asking. "Everything's good," I replied.
She smiled, a little brighter this time, and took a hold of my hand. "Good," she said. "At least one of us can be happy today."
I gently squeezed her fingers. "I'm sorry you're not feeling well, Mags. I really am. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Could you carry this baby to term for me?"
I chuckled. "I wish I could."
"I've already offered," Peter piped in. "But she won't let me. Says it's a woman's job and men wouldn't know what to do with themselves if they had to endure gestation for nine months."
"Well, YOU wouldn't, at any rate," I teased, and Peter crinkled his face and threw the magazine in my direction, sending small advertisement postcards fluttering to the floor.
Katy poked her head into the open door and stated, "Travis is downstairs."
"All right, thanks." I looked at Maggie again and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "You take care, sis, okay?"
"You, too," she whispered, squeezing my hand once more before releasing me.
I stepped over to Peter and tapped his knuckles with mine in farewell. "Sorry you're stuck here," I said, truly meaning it, feeling responsible for his injury all over again.
"Naw, don't be," he insisted. "A vacation is a vacation, no matter where I am."
I smiled, nodded, and exited the room to follow Katy downstairs. Mrs. Cooper met us at the front door, extending a small cooler. "Snacks," she informed us, and I thanked her and headed outside.
Travis was at the pick-up truck, setting our snowboards into the open bed. Katy pulled the passenger-side door open and made to get into the front seat, but then looked at me and decided she had better take the back seat.
I slid inside, shut the door, and said, "Thanks."
Her response to this was to run a long fingernail across the back of my neck, sending a line of goose bumps trickling down my spine. "You're welcome, Jake," she crooned, her face so close to my ear that I could feel her breath, could smell the vanilla-scented perfume she wore. "Anything for you, and I mean that in every way possible . . ."
I shut my eyes in instant irritation. Didn't this girl ever give up?
I turned partway in my seat, intending to bring everything to a halt, my voice stern as I said, "Look, Katy . . ." But Travis pulled the driver's side door and got in, and Katy immediately sat back as if nothing at all had occurred. I bit my lower lip and turned in my seat, pulling the seat belt across my chest.
"Ready to go?" Travis inquired, bringing the engine to life.
"Sure thing," I replied, mustering as much nonchalance as I could.
There weren't too many people in this world who pissed me off. In fact, it was quite a rare occurrence. But at that moment, Katy was definitely at the top of my list. Once we reached the pass, I intended to find a moment to speak to her in private, to let her know that her continual flirtation with me was intolerable. It seemed perfectly clear who I desired to be with - not her - and if she couldn't accept that, too fucking bad.
We left the ranch through the main gate and headed south, taking several back roads, traversing across rocky terrain with the pick-up truck bucking beneath us, Travis holding tight to the steering wheel. Again, I was amazed at the ease with which he steered the truck, zigzagging around rocks, sliding over slick patches of snow. As we ascended higher, the snow thickened considerably, and Travis shifted into lower gear to get us up the mountain. At one point, I feared we might get stuck, but Travis continued to amaze me with his deft driving skills.
"It's not much farther," Travis commented, as if sensing that I was anxious.
Was I exuding anxiety? Despite the fact that I was bristling with dislike, I refused to let Travis see Katy's insatiability ruining my day. I decided to engage in light conversation by asking, "Do you go snowboarding a lot?"
I was surprised by both Katy and Travis answering in unison: Travis responding with "Yes," and Katy responding with "No."
I glanced over at Travis. He was dressed in matching yellow and gray nylon twill snowboarding pants and jacket, a black and yellow beanie hugging his head, a pair of orange-lensed goggles perched on top. As much as I tried, I just couldn't picture him back-country snowboarding. His bucolic demeanor clouded my vision, making it difficult to accept this other aspect of him. I wondered how he even found the chance to snowboard when the ranch demanded so much of his time.
He glanced over at me, caught me watching him, and grinned. Reached across the seat to touch his fingers to mine and asked, "Do you snowboard much?"
I shook my head. "Not nearly enough." Unfortunately, this rang true of countless other activities I tried to squeeze into my hectic life - cycling, surfing, baseball, basketball. I loved sports, craved the work-out, thrived on the physical activity - but with my perpetually busy work schedule it seemed impossible to excel in any one area, a fact that eternally discouraged me.
We reached the pass within half an hour, pulling into a secluded area south of the ranch. The ground was powdery and fresh, completely untouched, the sun not yet melting the newly-fallen snow. As we descended from the truck, we retrieved our gear and took turns spreading sunscreen on our faces.
"How do you find these places?" I asked Travis, rubbing the lotion along the bridge of my nose.
"I do a lot of exploring," he responded vaguely, pulling the snack cooler out to set it in the snow.
"And this is all part of Cooper Ranch?"
"Nope." He sat down on the open tailgate to change into his snowboard boots. "This is pure national forest land, my friend."
I joined him on the tailgate, pulling my own snowboard boots on. "In other words," I said, "we really shouldn't be here."
"According to the National Forest Service, yes." His remark was flippant.
"You've never been caught?" I asked. Wasn't sure why I was pressing the issue or why I even cared.
He squinted at me, the light spray of freckles that covered his nose crinkling. "Do you really think the forest rangers constantly patrol every inch of this land in search of a few clandestine snowboarders?"
His sarcasm made me smile, and I elbowed him in the arm. "Okay, smartass," I said. "Let's just get the show on the road. I've been dying for this ever since we left Aspen."
Still squinting at me, he said, "Is that all you've been dying for?"
The brazenness of his statement, with Katy standing so near, surprised me, but I enjoyed the idea of slapping her with a little dose of reality. I looked at Travis through the dark lenses of my sunglasses, flicked my tongue, and replied, "Not by a fucking long shot, Cooper."
The corners of his mouth turned upwards, and we sat peering at one another.
"Well, I'm going down," Katy stated, hoisting her snowboard under her arm and walking off.
"Wait!" Travis commanded, quickly grabbing his own board and sliding his goggles on. "Let me go first and check it out."
She didn't argue, and in a moment Travis was on his board and gliding down the side of the mountain, descending effortlessly, swerving left to right, his balance superior. My mouth fell open as I witnessed him actually perform a rail slide down the length of a fallen lodgepole pine near the bottom of the slope. He turned sharply and came to a screeching halt, powdery snow flying up behind him.
"Holy crap," I mumbled.
"Yeah," Katy said. "He's good."
"Good? He should be in the goddamn olympics!"
Katy giggled at my comment and bumped her hip into mine, standing dangerously close. I considered choosing that moment to talk to her about her flirtatious crap needing to cease and desist, but Travis pushed his goggles up and waved, beckoning for one of us to come down.
"You go," I told Katy.
She pulled her goggles down to cover her eyes, slid her boots into the clips of her board, and then pushed off, her momentum gathering strength as she descended. Her technique was amateur yet well-crafted, and she succeeded in getting most of the way down before losing her balance and falling, the snowboard flipping up into the air, propelling her forward in several awkward somersaults, a plume of snow following in her wake.
Travis was near enough to lend her a hand, hoisting her up by an elbow and helping to free her boots from the board.
And suddenly it was my turn. They both waved, signaling me to come down, and I thought - it's now or never, Gyllenhaal. I took a deep breath, exchanged my sunglasses for goggles, slid my boots into the clips of my board and then pushed myself down the mountain.
Although I loved the sport, the truth was I had only snowboarded about a dozen times in my life, and this fact was painfully obvious as I almost immediately wiped-out, my body betraying gravity as I plummeted briefly down the slope. I rolled several yards but managed to stop myself midway. When I got back up, I brushed myself off and tried again. This time, I successfully made it the rest of the way without falling.
After I pulled my snowboard up into my arms and headed to where Travis and Katy stood, Travis threw an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close, exclaiming, "That was awesome!"
"Awesome?!" I echoed. "I fucking ate snow, dude!"
"Yeah, but you cowboyed up!"
I laughed raucously at his choice of words and repeated, "Cowboyed up . . ..?"
Katy leaned in close to brush a fuchsia fingernail under my chin, allowing it to linger there. "Yes, 'cowboy up' . . . grit your teeth, get back on, keep going, no matter what." Her eyes expressed everything she was feeling, everything she was insinuating, like the pages of an open book.
"I know what 'cowboy up' means," I stated, stepping back from her. "I just thought it was a phrase reserved for rodeos and cattle drives and shit like that."
Travis pulled me closer and swept a hand across the horizon in mock grandeur. "Friend!" he exclaimed. "Today, you are a cowboy of the hills, and the snowboard is your steed!"
I stared at him, choking back laughter, and pushed him away. "You are one crazy motherfucker, Cooper, you know that? You really are."
He gave no retort. Just wiggled his eyebrows.
Katy started to make her way back up the slope, her snowboard propped against her shoulders, her boots disappearing in the snow with each step. Travis took advantage of the moment and kissed me, our frozen lips rough and hard together.
"You're sexy in your nylon pants," he whispered.
"You're sexy in that fucking beanie," I quipped, placing my hand on his knit cap and bobbing his head up and down as if he were a puppet.
"Hmmm." He leaned in to nick my earlobe with his teeth. "Maybe I'll wear it for you later. And nothing else."
His propensity to embarrass me seemed effortless. I felt color rise to my cheeks as I involuntarily envisioned Travis naked and aroused, with just a hat covering his head. I didn't know which image I liked better: Travis butt-naked in the cowboy hat or Travis butt-naked in the yellow and black beanie. Either one would have done it for me.
"Hey you two!" Katy yelled through cupped hands from the top of the slope. "Stop flirting with each other already and get your asses up here!"
Travis and I peered at each other, erupting in quiet laughter.
"Come on," I said, hoisting my board up to my shoulder, hooking an arm with his. "Let me give you some snowboarding lessons. I think you could use a few pointers."
He chuckled, leaning in closer, and said, "Teach me anything you want, Gyllenhaal. I'm all yours."
-------------------------------------------------------------------- Brokeback Mountain copyright 1997 by Dead Line, Ltd. / 2005 Focus Features LLC --------------------------------------------------------------------
Drop me a line at avymac@hotmail.com or visit me at Chris' fantastic little Jake MSN group page: http://groups.msn.com/TheGyllenhaalEncounter/_whatsnew.msnw.
As always, thanks for reading!