Despite having been raised on a ranch, Jack had always been sensitive to the raw smells so frequently encountered in that milieu, and was mighty relieved for Ennis (so sweet, so thoughtful) to take his place in that damn foul-smelling pup tent; and yet, since they had become lovers (mustn't use that word, shouldn't think like that) the camptender's tent had taken on its own funky, manly aroma, the kind that could only come from the repeated exertions born of animal passion.
Jack noticed now that odors once deemed offensive by him were, in these special circumstances, imbued with a strange new allure, that awoke desire and which he immediately associated with his new friend, who even now was entering the tent and pulling off his boots, filling the tight space with a day's worth of hard-earned, sweaty raunch, the discernment of which made Jack's jeans chafe at their own constriction.
"Hey bud, glad to see ya," Ennis smiled down at his cowboy, tentatively touching his hair and gingerly leaning down to kiss those soft lips, whereupon Jack hungrily reached up to drink Ennis in, the heady mixture of dried masculine sweat, feet, and Ennis's whiskey-stained, unbrushed teeth transformed, in the magic of the moment, into the unforgettable perfume of paradise.