Cowboys Are Frequently (Not So Secretly) Fond Of Each Other -- originally posted on AO3
It was the summer of 2026. Ennis Del Mar, older than he thought he'd ever be, laid back in his recliner with a stomach bug. Jack, his husband, had wrapped him in his favorite blanket and all Ennis requested was his cigarettes (Jack stopped smoking a long time ago), a lighter, and Hamley's Saddle Catalog. He rose with the sun, opening his eyes to squint at the rays entering through the window beside him when Jack strutted into the room using his cane.
"Hey there, cowboy!" Jack said, already dressed in blue jeans and a red, plaid shirt, wearing his signature smile.
Ennis grunted, still feeling sick, and lit a smoke. He watched Jack pour coffee grounds into the maker, then water, and exhaled smoke into the air. He looked extra good today, Ennis thought. Jack came around again with a mug of black coffee and sat in Ennis' lap, both men grunting with content.
"What're you doin' today, dear?" Asked Ennis as he secured Jack's thighs across his lap with his hand.
"Takin' care a you, what else?" Jack replied, scooting closer.
Jack brushed over Ennis' stubble with his thumb. He shook his head when Ennis reached for his mug, "No, Ennis. No coffee for you. Yer still sick."
"Then let me up, I gotta piss." Ennis announced.
"If I can come with you…" Jack traced his finger around the rim of the mug.
Ennis nodded like that was normal to suggest. Because it was, at least for them. They've been watching each other piss since they were cowboys together and Jack Twist always knew what he wanted. So when Ennis nodded, Jack stood with the help of his cane and held out a hand for Ennis to grab.
Jack followed Ennis closely, observing his form in the blanket around his shoulders. When they got to the bathroom Ennis, smoke still between his lips, undid his jeans and began to piss in the toilet. Jack leaned against his cane and slid his hand from Ennis' stomach to his cock, replacing Ennis' hand with his own. He stroked him slowly as he pissed. Ennis shifted on his feet.
Jack smiled again and murmured, "You like that, cowboy?"
Ennis exhaled smoke through his nose and spoke while his lips held the cigarette, "Keep goin'."
Jack continued until the stream stopped. It reminded him that Ennis always pissed like an over-hydrated racehorse, and kept going faster as Ennis hardened in his hand.
Ennis needed this, Jack thought. He needed to be taken care of: Baths, food, plenty of water, and this (among other sexual activities that don't require Ennis to do anything). Because that was their job as husbands. Jack took care of Ennis. And Ennis took care of Jack.
Ennis stepped closer, hands latching onto Jack's hips and allowing him to stroke in a less-awkward hand position. He could tell that Jack was hard too, he pressed himself against it and groaned from the pleasure he felt. It didn't take long for him to get there after they started kissing, the cigarette had been dropped into the toilet, and they moaned and grunted into each other's mouths. Jack could always tell when Ennis was close (hips shaking, panting), so he grabbed a few pieces of toilet paper and caught Ennis' load…
With Ennis back in his recliner, Jack caned over with a plate of four fried eggs with a portion of potatoes on the side and set it in Ennis' lap.
He handed him a fork, kissing his forehead, "I'll be tendin' to the animals. Eat up."
The second Jack pulled away, Ennis grabbed his collar and pulled him back for a proper kiss, a thank you, for everything.
