"Close it up!" cried Jack, shuddering to the brutal, icy force of the hail that was beginning to pelt the tent, whereupon Ennis, torn between his fear for the sheep and gratitude for the shelter that both Jack and the tent provided, complied; they drew the flap tightly, their hands brushing together.
"Whew, friend, I told you Brokeback was rough", Jack said, his exhaustion and tension receding before the warmth and desire that filled him looking into Ennis's guarded brown eyes--eyes that had seen too little of the comfort and beauty that Jack knew to be in the world.
Jack noticed Ennis slightly shivering, whether from cold or some unnamed fear he couldn't tell, whereupon Jack said, softly, "C'mere, Ennis, it'll be allright"; thus gently drawing his friend's head to his beating breast, the pounding hail a wordless litany for desires unmapped, hopes yet to be born.