Even though both were approaching middle age, Ennis still thought of Jack as his beloved blue boy, and held him snugly from behind as they drifted off to sleep in the tent, relishing the warmth of that beloved cleavage, the tight but welcoming place where his manhood had always felt most comfortable.
For a moment, his peaceful descent into sleep was roused by the memory of their earlier conversation, where Jack had said he missed him so much sometimes he could hardly stand it, and of how Ennis's heart had stung to those gently recriminating words, of how his mouth clamped tighter in frustration and sadness.
Tinged with the dark night's melancholy, his member retreated from its swelling search, though Ennis could still feel the humid warmth of his beloved's body upon it, and he pulled Jack even closer, determined that if only for this one night, they would be safe and secure, and not only in their dreams.