Date: Thu, 03 Aug 2006 16:30:18 -0600
From: Avy MacGregor <avymac@hotmail.com>
Subject: Jake's Cowboy Part 9

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!
--------------------------------------------------------------------
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now a group page for `Jake's Cowboy':
http://groups.msn.com/TheGyllenhaalChronicles/_whatsnew . Stop by, check it
out, join up, participate in discussions or just look for sneak peeks.
Everyone's welcome.

And of course I can always be reached via email at avymac@hotmail.com - drop
me a line, say hello, voice your concerns, share your suggestions or express
whatever is on your mind. I love hearing from you guys.

Thanks to everyone for continued support. Keep it coming.

PART 9 . . .
--------------------------------------------------------------------

	We rode for most of the morning, traveling across the range through wide
open pastures, passing by herds of cattle grazing grass through the
half-melted snow. The ceiling of clouds had begun to recede, allowing
patches of blue sky and sunlight to filter through, warming the valley.
	Travis sat atop Red Cloud, riding effortlessly along at a slow pace, one
hand loosely leading the reins while the other hand casually hung down at
his side clutching the slack. His stature was completely comfortable in the
saddle, as though he'd lived his whole life on the back of a horse. Which,
for all accounts and purposes, I suppose he had.
	My riding companion was Hugo, an even-tempered palomino who seemed to be
guiding me more than I was guiding him. I knew Travis had picked him for
this very reason, and I found it funny; Travis must have sensed that I was
not a very seasoned rider. Or perhaps it was just obvious that I was a city
boy, not a country boy. In any case, Hugo made for an easy ride.
	For awhile, Travis and I trotted along side-by-side, following a path that
eventually headed into the hills, continuing at a slow, even pace, each of
us quietly basking in the tranquility of the morning, the caw of black birds
the only discordance in an otherwise serene atmosphere. After a time, Travis
rolled into conversation, inquiring, "How are you this morning, Jake . . .
really?"
	I glanced over and discovered him looking at me, his expression attentive,
sincere. He was probably anticipating a little soul-bearing on my part, but
I decided to screw with him instead. "My ass hurts to high heaven," I
quipped. "And this saddle isn't helping much."
	He immediately broke into raucous laughter, tossing his head back, the rim
of his Resistol touching his shoulders. "Yeah," he chuckled, "I should have
forewarned you never to ride a horse the morning after a good fucking." He
continued to laugh, shoulders shaking.
	Without even thinking, without even blinking, I said, "Are you an expert on
that or something?" My voice was laced with unexpected cruelty, the question
leaving my lips long before my mind even had a chance to censor it.
	Travis's expression all at once turned gray, laughter gone, eyes instantly
clouded over as he looked directly at me, green orbs piercing into blue.
When he spoke, his voice was grave. "Are you referring to being fucked?" he
asked. "Or being the one doing the fucking?"
	We were sparring now. I lifted my chin slightly in defiance and said, "Does
it matter?"
	His face exuded pure insolence. "Sure," he said through thin lips. "'Cause,
I mean . . . my ass feels dandy today, buddy."
	We stared hard at each other for a moment, neither of us willing to be the
first to look away. The horses continued on, unconcerned with the tension of
their riders, heading down the dirt path towards a line of trees in the
distance.
	I fought the urge to turn Hugo around and ride off in the opposite
direction, leaving Travis behind. Our argument - or whatever the hell it was
- only added to the frustration, confusion and sadness I was already
feeling, and although I shouldn't have escalated things, I found myself
unable to contain the urge to be spiteful. "I had a dream last night," I
said boldly.
	Travis didn't respond. Just continued to look at me, straight-faced and
tight-lipped.
	"The dream was about you," I added.
	"Yeah?" he finally said. "Who was I fucking?"
	His bluntness rattled me. I turned my attention back to the trail, wrapping
the loose reins tighter through my fingers. "You weren't fucking anybody," I
spoke in a low voice. "You were in a bathroom stall with some guy's dick
down your throat. And from the look of things, you were enjoying it."
	Travis allowed this image to sink in, riding along in silence. Then he
seemed to snap out of his reverie and asked in a neutral tone, "Was he young
or old?"
	The question threw me for a loop, and I looked at him, baffled. "What?"
	"Was the man who was shoving his dick down my throat young or old?"
	"Shit, Travis, I don't know!" I exclaimed. "All I could see were his hairy
ass cheeks!"
	And suddenly his face creased into a smile, his eyes glittering, all
defiance vanished from him like the wiping of a slate. He leaned forward so
that both hands rested on the saddle horn, the rim of his cowboy hat shading
his eyes. "God, I really hate hairy ass cheeks," he mocked. "They're so . .
.. neanderthal."
	The statement rendered me speechless.
	Travis lifted his face again and looked at me, grinning. "Come on. Lighten
up. You dreaming about me is flattering, Gyllenhaal . . . It means we've
made an impact on each other."
	I couldn't respond. The mere recollection of the dream sent a chill through
me all over again, and I shifted in my saddle, causing Hugo to swerve
slightly to the left. "It wasn't a good dream, Travis," I finally managed to
say. I hadn't realized just how negatively I'd been affected by it.
	"Yeah, but, still," Travis said, continuing to grin. "You dreamt about me.
I'd say that's a pretty good thing, regardless."
	I glanced away, shaking my head in disbelief.
	Travis reached out a hand and touched my arm. "Don't take it so seriously,
Jake," he insisted. "It was just a dream."
	I shifted my gaze back to him, embroiled in a dozen different emotions, my
thoughts tumbling together. I wanted to tell him that the dream had truly
disturbed me; that I didn't know what the hell was going on in my head; that
I probably would have given up almost anything to be able to spend just one
extra minute with him before heading home. But all I could mutter was,
"Travis . . ." his name echoing in my head, all other words choked somewhere
deep within me.
	Travis didn't wait for me to continue. He whipped at Red Cloud's reins,
bringing the buckskin to life beneath him, taking off in a wide gallop down
the path, leaving me in the dust. Despite the thunder of hooves, I heard his
voice ring out, commanding me to follow him.
	I hesitated, but then kicked my heels into Hugo's girth, lifting my weight
slightly off the seat, racing forward to follow in Red Cloud's wake. I
pursued Travis at a steady clip until we were in the hills, and then Travis
slowed down, giving me the opportunity to catch up with him. From here we
meandered single-file down a path, entering into a large grove of conifer
and leafless aspen, beams of sunlight streaming through.
	The ground was half-frozen and partly muddy, but the horses easily
traversed the terrain, hooves occasionally clicking across rocks. We rode
for a short while, trotting quietly, until we reached a stream, and here
Travis stopped and dismounted, allowing Red Cloud to take a drink from the
cold water. I did likewise with Hugo, and then we tossed the reins of both
horses around a tree. I sat down on a large rock near the water while Travis
retrieved a blanket and knapsack from his saddle.
	The stream trickled lightly over small boulders and fallen tree branches, a
winding path for melting snow traveling down from the mountains. I picked up
pebbles to toss across the water, attempting but mostly failing to skip them
over the surface, my thoughts still somber. Travis spread the blanket down
onto the damp ground and unpacked the knapsack, revealing a small picnic of
bagels, grapes, fresh muffins and a large thermos of hot coffee.
	He removed his hat, patted the empty space of blanket beside him, and said,
"Come here, you."
	I scooted down from the rock and attempted to find a comfortable position
on the lumpy blanket, pebbles and tree branches poking up into the wool
fabric. Travis unscrewed the lid of the thermos and poured steaming coffee
into two tin cups, topping each one off with a dollop of whiskey from a
small silver flask. He handed a cup to me, and I muttered a thank you before
taking a sip. The hot liquid felt good going down my throat, and after
several more sips my uneasiness began to slowly fade.
	Realizing my hunger, I grabbed a bagel, tore off a piece, and said, "I'm
impressed, Cooper."
	Through a mouthful of grapes, he asked, "Why?"
	"Because you packed a picnic."
	He grinned. Shrugged and said, "I thought  it'd be nice since you missed
breakfast this morning."
	"Thanks."
	"You're welcome."
	We ate for a short time, making light conversation, discussing nothing in
particular. Once I had finished my bagel and coffee I laid back on the
blanket, now damp with ground moisture, and placed my hands beneath my head
to gaze up through columns of aspen trees - white trunks like candles
pointing up into the blue sky. I inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of
dampness and pine resin, happy to be far less anxious than I'd been only a
short time ago.
	Travis stuffed everything back into the knapsack and pushed it aside, out
of his way. Then he slid down beside me, mimicking my position to gaze up
through the trees. A slight breeze picked up, the crowns of the trees
swaying gently, and I shivered in my hoodie. Regretted not bringing a
heavier jacket.
	Red Cloud, or perhaps Hugo, neighed softly, hooves shifting on the ground,
and suddenly, for whatever reason, I blurted out: "Will you come visit me in
California, Travis?"
	It felt liberating to finally articulate a concrete thought. Made me feel
like maybe I could actually speak my mind.
	Travis didn't respond to my question right away. Just laid there gazing up
at the same cumulous cloud that I was. Then he raised himself up on an
elbow, rested his head against his hand to face me, and said, "I'd love to."
	I smiled. Shifted my eyes to meet his. "Really?"
	He smiled back. "Sure. You've seen where I live - how I live - I'd like to
see the same of you."
	Excitement ran through me. "I'll take you to the ocean," I said. "Maybe we
can go surfing."
	Travis held up a hand. "Wait now, I don't surf . . ."
	"Come on! You snowboard like a pro. You can learn how to surf."
	Travis grinned, looking cute as hell. "Okay," he said. "We'll do whatever
you want, babe."
	This last word he spoke very lovingly, and I was surprised by how happy it
made me feel. So many women had called me so many little names, cooing me
with their soft voices, but somehow Travis calling me "babe" was one of the
sweetest things I'd ever heard.
	"When can you come?" I asked.
	"Well . . ."
	"How 'bout tomorrow?" I was completely overcome with excitement. Didn't
even realize how desperate I sounded.
	Travis smiled. Shook his head. Looked down at the blanket and then back up
to me. "Tomorrow, huh? Isn't that a little . . . sudden?"
	"No," I insisted. "Just pack a few things, fly back with me in the
morning." I was so instantly wrapped up in making plans for our departure
that I didn't notice his hesitation.
	Travis traced a finger along the striped pattern of the blanket, following
a path that eventually led to my side. After a moment of deafening silence,
I started to worry, realizing that he wasn't responding to my suggestion. I
sat up. Leaned on both elbows. Looked earnestly at him.
	"It's not possible right now, Jake," he finally said.
	Panic struck me. "Why not?"
	He traced the hem of my hoodie, traveling up until he could slide his hand
underneath, his fingers running along the fabric of my undershirt, tickling
my stomach. "It's a really busy time of year right now," he stated. "We're
scheduling the roundup. Hiring on extra hands. A lot of shit going on . . .
Spring's just a really bad time for me to be going anywhere."
	My whole entire body deflated as I was suddenly overcome with grief. I
exhaled, frowning, and dropped back down to the blanket. Brought an arm up
to cover my face, my eyes clamped shut to fight back unwanted tears. What
the hell was happening to me? Why did I feel as though leaving Travis was
the worst thing to ever happen to me?
	He scooted closer, resting a leg atop my knees, his hand still exploring
the fabric of my undershirt. I could feel his breath against my cheek, his
lips caressing my jaw. "Jake . . ." he whispered.
	I said nothing.
	More kissing on my chin, my neck, his hand reaching all the way up to my
adam's apple. "Jake," he repeated softly.
	"Hmm."
	He moved his face back. Forced me through silence to finally look at him.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you," he said.
	Still, I said nothing. I was so choked up I feared that I might start
crying if I attempted to speak. And I couldn't - wouldn't - let him see me
that way.
	"I want to come visit you," he continued. "I really do. Maybe in a month or
so, when things have settled down here. I just can't do it right now."
	I moved my head in a pathetic nod. Felt sick with disappointment and
sadness.
	Travis sighed and partially turned his face away to gaze at the stream. I
noticed a muscle twitching in his jaw, could feel the frustration emanating
from him. When he turned back to look at me, his eyes were glassy, sullen.
"Fuck," he mumbled. "I wish I could drop everything and come to L.A. with
you, Jake, I truly do. But I just can't. You gotta understand that. My
responsibility is to this ranch. It's my life. If I were to just - take off
whenever I felt like it, nothing would get done here. There's no way Curtis
could do it by himself."
	He was right, of course. My selfishness was out-of-bounds. But I couldn't
help it. I took a quivering breath, rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand,
and sat up. "I'm sorry," I mumbled. "Just forget about it . . ." But still I
felt crestfallen, my mouth turned down in a frown, my eyes moist.
	Travis sat up beside me. Placed a hand on my knee, his fingers lightly
squeezing the denim fabric. "These last few days have been an amazing time,
Jake," he whispered. "Better than anything. You gotta know that I don't want
you to leave."
	I nodded. Felt choked up again. "Yeah," I said through tight lips. "It's
been incredible for me, too." I blinked back tears. Suddenly wanted to jump
up and run off.
	Then Travis's hand found its way to my face, cupping my cheek, and it was
the last straw for me. Tears spilled out, embarrassing and aggravating.
"Fuck," I seethed, slapping his hand away in shame, wiping the salty
moisture from my cheeks.
	But he wouldn't let me go that easily. With both hands he grabbed my jaw
and pulled my face forward until our foreheads touched. "Look at me," he
said.
            I didn't.
            He shook me slightly. Commanded, "Look at me, dammit."
	I lifted my gaze. Saw the tears welling in his own eyes. "I WILL come visit
you," he said sternly. "I promise you. Okay? As soon as the roundup is done.
I'll come out for a whole week if you want."
	I nodded. Sucked in a quivering breath. Said, "I don't know what the hell
is happening to me, Cooper. I've never felt this way before. It's like . . .
I don't know. Like I can't get enough of you."
	"I know," he whispered.
	I was shaking my head, looking down at the blanket again. "I'm sorry for
being such a blubbering fool . . . It's so fucking embarrassing . . ."
	He silenced me with his lips. Softly kissed me. My anxiety started to fade,
and eventually we landed back on the blanket, side-by-side, our legs
entwined, our mouths still connected. I wrapped my fingers in his hair.
Tasted the coffee still lingering on his tongue. Inhaled the aroma of soap,
damp hay and mountain air on his skin. Wanted to imprint it in my mind
forever.
	Time seemed to stand still as we lay there, each one of us gently sucking
on one another's lips, the horses shifting together, the flickers calling to
one another up in the trees. Another breeze picked up, and I absently pushed
myself further against him. He responded by embracing me tightly, and in no
time we were kissing much more fervently, our mouths opening wider, tongues
competing for space, saliva pooling at the edges of our lips.
	The intensity continued to grow as our hands began to roam, exploring each
other through layers of clothing, Travis's fingers snaking up my hoodie and
undershirt to tickle my abs, my own fingers struggling with the buttons of
his shirt. Once successful, I rubbed his chest, following the contour of his
pecs, flicking over his nipples. When I caressed his ribs, he shivered,
goose bumps chasing his skin.
	I felt his hand travel down to my jeans, his fingers grabbing the now-hard
bulge in my pants, a moan escaping from my lips, lost in his mouth. He
rubbed me briefly, and I squirmed, wanting more. As he popped open the
button of my fly and proceeded to pull down the zipper, he removed his
tongue from my mouth and drifted down, sucking on my neck, licking at my
navel, pulling my boxer briefs down with his teeth. I helped him push my
pants down over my hips and then laid back, allowing the sensation of his
wet tongue on my hard cock to wash over me.
	He flicked his tongue over my piss slit, teasing me, while his fingers
worked on my balls. I slid an arm under my head so that I could watch him,
my other hand resting on his neck. He licked the full length of my shaft,
traveling down to the base, tickling my pubic hair with the tip of his
tongue. Then his mouth opened and gently sucked my balls in, both nuts
resting in the wetness of his mouth, his tongue rapidly flicking across
them. The sensation was incredible, and I arched up slightly, pressing a
little harder on his neck, my breath quickening.
	He continued sucking my ball sac while his hand massaged my cock, my
pre-cum assisting as lubrication. Then with his other hand I saw him
fumbling with his jeans, unbuckling his belt but struggling with the buttons
of his fly. His hips were close to me, so I pulled him over, slapping his
hand away so that I could do the honors of opening his pants.
	"I don't know why the hell you wear button-fly, Cooper," I mumbled in
irritation, and he chuckled, my balls still stuffed in his mouth.
	When his jeans were finally open, I attempted to push them down, but the
angle was awkward and Travis had no choice but to release me, sit up
partially, and pull them down himself. We re-situated ourselves, lying on
our sides in  a `69' position, taking each other's cocks into our mouths,
groaning in unison.
	Although I had been in this position before with dozens of different women,
doing it with Travis was altogether different and extraordinary. Perhaps it
was because we both had dicks. We mimicked one another - he sucked me in, I
sucked him in. I pulled back to lick his engorged tip, he did likewise with
my tip. It was like a little game, each one of us coaxing the other one on.
He grabbed my ass, I grabbed his ass. His fingers dipped into my crack, my
fingers dipped into his crack. His musky scent was so arousing that I wished
I could just swallow every inch of his entire crotch.
	In no time at all, we were both close to reaching climax, grunting and
sucking and pushing into each other's mouths, our hips grinding against one
another's faces, all sights and sounds of our surroundings nonexistent.
	I was the first one to cum, moaning from deep within, my cock shooting an
enormous load that Travis greedily swallowed, pulling my hips even closer,
his tongue working to suck out every last drop from my pulsing tip.
	He reached ejaculation shortly after me, bucking against my face so that
his balls smacked my nose, his dick exploding inside my mouth. Without even
realizing it, I had sucked him all the way in, hungrily gulping down the hot
semen, his long, swollen cock pushed all the way to the back of my throat. I
couldn't believe how much I loved the taste of him, how much I loved holding
his throbbing dick in my mouth, how much I loved having his sweating balls
pressed against my nostrils, his pubic hair scratching my chin. Had never in
a million years thought I would ever enjoy anything so much. Didn't want to
let him go.
	And we didn't let each other go . . . Not right away. Lay there with our
dicks still shoved in one another's mouths, allowing our heart rates to slow
down. Then slowly we released each other and pulled away to lay on our
backs, our wet cocks cooling in the breeze, our chests heaving.
	We remained like this for several minutes, no words spoken, just the
flickers calling back and forth to one another in the trees. Then Travis
said, "We should head out," and pulled his boxers and jeans back up. Took a
moment to button his fly and then stood up to button his shirt, tucking the
shirttails in and buckling his belt. He attempted to fix his hair with his
fingers but retrieved his hat to put on anyway.
	I was more reluctant to get dressed - was enjoying the sensation of having
the cool air blowing against my sweating groin while I gazed up at the blue
sky. But soon a chill traveled through me, and I shivered and stood up,
pulling my jeans and boxer briefs up with me.
	Travis retrieved the blanket from the ground, and together we shook it out
and rolled it up. Packed everything back onto Red Cloud's saddle and
prepared the horses for departure. We hesitated before mounting, standing
next to one another, the sun streaming down through the trees.
	"Thanks for taking me riding this morning," I said.
	"It was my pleasure." He grinned impishly, snapping the ends of the reins
against his thigh. "In more ways than one."
	I laughed. "Yeah, it was." Then, more somberly, added, "I don't know how
I'm gonna get back to my normal life after all this."
	"You'll be fine," Travis insisted. "Cooper Ranch will be a mere speck in
your memory once you're back in the limelight."
	I shook my head. "No way. This place has changed me." I looked closely at
him. "YOU'VE changed me."
	"Well . . ." Travis pulled me into a hug, the reins hitting my back, his
hat lightly bumping my head. "I hope you don't hold it against me."
	I returned the embrace. "There's nothing to hold against you. You've
managed to . . . fill a void that I guess was missing."
	He hugged me tighter. We stood there for a moment, the horses stomping
their hooves, and then I stepped back and said, "Will you stay with me until
I fly out tomorrow?"
	"You mean stay in Aspen with you?"
	I nodded.
	He grinned. Pecked me on the lips. "I thought you'd never fucking ask."

*	*	*	*	*

	We took our time riding back to the ranch, meandering through fields,
arriving at the stables just after noon. We spent some time untacking the
horses, rubbing them down and feeding them, Travis explaining the process to
me as we did so. Then Curtis sauntered in to let us know that lunch was
ready up at the house.
	"We'll be right there," Travis said.
	I followed Travis into the office. He rummaged through some papers on his
desk and then said to me, "I've got to make a few phone calls. Why don't you
go get your stuff and head up to the house. I'll meet you there."
	I nodded, "Okay. You want me to grab some things for you?"
	He thought about it. "Yeah. Just some underwear and my toothbrush. Thanks."
	We kissed each other, and then I exited the stables and headed to the
bunkhouse. Derry appeared from out of nowhere, following at me heels, and I
greeted her with a scratch behind the ears. She entered the bunkhouse with
me and stayed at my side as I gathered my things together, stuffing
everything into my overnight bag.
	I pulled open the drawers of Travis's dresser and found his boxers and
socks. Decided to grab an extra shirt and jeans for him as well. Looking
around, I found a duffle bag and shoved his clothing inside it. Then I went
to retrieve his toothbrush from the bathroom.
	When I returned, Katie was standing in the middle of the room, dressed in a
tight-fitting t-shirt and red mini-skirt, her combat boots unlaced on her
feet, her raven black hair tumbling down around her shoulders.
	Her presence startled me, and I stopped dead in my tracks.
	I hadn't seen her since dinner last night, when she'd done nothing but sulk
throughout the meal, placing an unwanted strain on everyone, not hanging
around for dessert. It seemed rather odd to me, due to my personality, that
I felt absolutely no sympathy or regret where she was concerned. But I
didn't. She'd gotten what she'd deserved. In fact, maybe she'd deserved
more, but I wasn't an antagonist. I convinced myself that so long as she
steered clear of me, everything would be fine.
	But she wasn't steering clear of me now. She was moving towards me, her
boots clunking against the wood floor.
	"Hi, Jake," she said, stopping a foot or so away from where I stood.
	I still held Travis's toothbrush in my hand, gripping it at my side as
though it were a dagger. "What's up, Katie?" I asked guardedly.
	"I just wanted to come say goodbye." She moved in closer.
	I took several steps back. "I don't want a repeat of yesterday," I said
sternly.
	She pouted. Very convincingly. Said through her frown, "I'm not going to
try anything again. A girl can only take so much rejection . . ." Her voice
trailed off; she looked to the floor, her hair falling into her face, her
shoulders slumped.
	I headed over to the bed to stick Travis's toothbrush inside the duffle
bag. Zipped it closed, sighed heavily, and then turned back to her, my hands
on my hips. "Look, Katie," I said. "You're a nice girl . . . a little
misguided, but nice. Let's just agree to call a truce and move on. Deal?"
	It seemed the best I could offer at that moment. And, quite frankly, I
hoped it would appease her enough to leave me alone.
	She looked at me through long mascara'd eyelashes - her expression
deceptively innocent - and nodded her head. She moved forward, held her arms
open to me, and said, "How about one last hug? One last hug, and I promise
never to bug you again."
	I knew it was a mistake. Knew that she could never be trusted, because she
was inherently an evil, evil child, but I acquiesced, allowing her to wrap
her arms around me. Her vanilla-scented perfume hit my nostrils, her
fingernails traced a line down my spine, her lips just barely touched my
earlobe as she whispered, "You're not the first guy Travis and I have fought
over, Jake. And I highly doubt that you'll be the last."
	I wrenched myself free from her embrace, involuntarily shivering, feeling
as though she'd infected me with poison.
	"Get away from me, Katie," I seethed. Never in my life had I felt such an
urge to slap a female. I had to turn from her, force myself to breathe,
focus on something other than the anger coursing through me. Quickly, I
grabbed the bags and my snowboard and headed for the door.
	She followed me, trying to grab my arm, saying, "He'll never stay with you,
Jake. He's never stayed with anyone . . ."
	I tried to shut her voice out. Pushed my way out onto the front porch,
practically tripping over Derry who was fast under my heels. Katie continued
to follow me, taunting me with her incessant babbling over how Travis was no
good until I simply couldn't take it any longer. I whipped around, my
snowboard inadvertently smacking her on the arm, my breath hot as I spat, "I
know all about Eric, Katie!"
	She stopped moving. Stared at me with wide green eyes.
	"Yeah," I said. "Travis told me. Told me how you hated their relationship
and how you still hold it against him to this day. You need to do a little
growing up, Katie. And you need to leave me the fuck alone. Goodbye." And I
pushed through the screen door, hearing it slam shut behind me, satisfied
that she was no longer following me. Satisfied that I had left her
dumbstruck.
	Travis met me on the path up to the house, smiling broadly, slipping the
snowboard out from under my arm so that he could carry it. Immediately, he
sensed my angst and slowed down his pace, looking at me. "What's wrong?"
	"Nothing," I said through clenched teeth, taking the path in wide, hurried
strides, forcing him to jog along beside me. Irritated, he grabbed my arm,
flipping me around to face him.
	"What's up, Jake?"
	I glared at him. "Your sister needs serious fucking help, Cooper. Like . .
.. an institution. She's fucking loony tunes." I shook free from his hold and
continued down the path.
	Travis caught up with me again, calling, "Hey, hey, slow down . . . Tell me
what the hell happened."
	So I did. Stopped  in my tracks to tell him everything, including the scene
in the woods and Katie's continuous flirtations and spiteful comments, and
how that, in my opinion, she was more than just a young girl wanting to test
her boundaries; she was fucking evil incarnate. At first, Travis sincerely
listened, hearing every word, his eyes expressing remorse. But soon his
expression evolved into anger.
	By the time I had finished my diatribe, he was bristling. "I'm gonna go
talk to her," he fumed.
	He swiftly spun on his heels, heading back towards the bunkhouse, but I
grabbed him by the arm to prevent him from going. "Not now," I begged.
"It'll only escalate things."
	"She needs a good whipping."
	"Yeah. But do it later, when you get back from Aspen. None of us need this
shit right now." Then, as an afterthought, I added, "I just want to spend
the day with you, Travis - no confrontation, no tragedies, no arguments.
Please."
	He sighed, looking at the ground, my snowboard still tucked under one arm.
I could tell that he was struggling with the urge to confront Katie right
then and there. But eventually he nodded his head and squinted up at me.
"All right," he conceded. "Fine."
	I gave his shoulder a tight squeeze. "Good. Thank you."
	He held up a finger. "But ONLY because you asked me to. Otherwise, Katie'd
be facing the wrath of hell right now."
	I chuckled, hoping to lighten the moment that I had so effectively ruined.
"I'm sure she would, my friend. Now come on, let's go eat. I'm starving and
would hate to miss my last meal here."
	He agreed, and we headed to the house, stopping to put our stuff in the
back of the truck before heading inside.
	In the dining room, everyone was already seated, chatting and eating.
	"Hey, guys!" Travis's mother greeted, her warm smile as bright as ever. She
was, without a doubt, one of the most genuine people I had ever met.
	Travis and I said hello in unison and took a seat, fixing ourselves heaping
plates of grilled chicken and cornbread and salad. We enjoyed the meal -
peaceful without Katie - and discussed the morning's ride with the others.
	When lunch was over and it was time to leave, we all stood on the front
porch to say goodbye. Curtis and Arturo shook our hands, bidding us a safe
trip home; Travis's mother embraced each of us, thanking us for coming,
extending an open invitation to visit any time. It was disheartening to
leave them - they were such great people - but in my mind I knew that I'd be
back again, perhaps sooner than later.
	After tossing Maggie and Peter's overnight bag into the open bed, we all
climbed inside the cab. Travis started the engine, reversed out of the
driveway, and everyone waved to one another one last time.
	We headed down the dirt and gravel road, and I watched the scenery pass by,
hoping to stamp the impression on my mind. As an afterthought, I pulled out
my cell phone, rolled down the window, and snapped a quick photo of the
passing landscape. It came out blurry. I left the window down for a moment,
allowing the crisp air to whip against my face. Then I shut it, pointed my
cell phone at Travis, and snapped a candid photo of his profile; his eyes
were casually fixed on the road ahead, his fingers wrapped around the
steering wheel, his Resistol hat perched back on his head.
	He grinned over at me. "What are you doing?"
	I took another picture of his smile. "Memories."
	We reached the edge of the property, sooner than I'd anticipated, rumbling
over the large cattle grate to pass under the stately pine log post again.
As we turned out onto the main road, my stomach churned slightly, convincing
me that I was truly going to miss this place. I slumped down a little in my
seat, absently hugging my belly. Travis glanced over, saw my distress, and
immediately reached out a hand.
	"You okay?" he asked quietly.
	I nodded. "Yeah."
	We held hands, resting our arms against the seat between us, something
deeper than words connecting us.
	In deference to Maggie's pregnancy, Travis chose to stick to official roads
this time around instead of taking the washboard shortcut. Maggie was
grateful for it, and although the scenery wasn't nearly as breath-taking,
driving through the mountains was great nonetheless.
	Traffic was surprisingly heavy, Travis cursing at the multitude of "Sunday
drivers" he continued to get trapped behind. "The mountains are always too
fucking crowded on the weekends," he explained in irritation.
	In order to avoid getting further stuck in traffic, we all mutually agreed
to not make any pit-stops along the way - just simply drive straight
through. By the time we reached Aspen, Maggie was ready to explode, needing
to piss a river. When Travis finally pulled into the front drive of The
Little Nell, she quickly exited, apologizing for her swift departure, Peter
hobbling along after her, their overnight bag slung over his shoulder.
	I slid from the cab, shut the door, retrieved the gear from the bed while
Travis handed his keys to the valet. The front doorman approached and asked
if we needed assistance with the bags, and I politely refused, hoisting my
bag over my shoulder. Travis took my snowboard and his duffle bag, and
together we headed to the front door.
	Travis leaned into me, grinning, and said, "Sure is a fancy-shit hotel you
got here, Gyllenhaal," pleasantly reminding me of the words he'd spoken to
me on the first night we'd met.
	I chuckled and bumped my hip into his.
	As we approached the revolving door, we fought over who was going to go
through first, playfully cursing at one another. I was so focused on Travis
and shoving him out of my way that I didn't even notice the man with the
camera until he was in the lobby, following along behind us, the shutter of
his camera going off at about a  hundred clicks per second.
	Travis and I headed for the bank of elevators. I did my best to ignore the
photographer, but it seemed an eternity that we were waiting for an
available car to pick us up. In the meantime, the photographer kept snapping
pictures.
	"What the fuck is that guy doing?" Travis growled, finally noticing the
man.
	"Paparazzi," I mumbled. "Just ignore him."
	Already, people were staring at us. I considered taking the stairs, but
suddenly two plain-clothes security personnel magically appeared, quietly
commanding the photographer to leave. As they escorted him out, an elevator
car finally arrived, and Travis and I both rushed in, relieved. I punched
the button to close the doors, not wanting anyone else to enter; thankfully,
no one did.
	As we ascended, Travis said, "I take it you get that a lot?"
	I sighed. "Yeah. It's a part of my life. Sorry."
	"You don't have to be sorry. It just threw me off-guard."
	We reached my floor and stepped out into the empty hallway. I slid my
keycard into the door and entered the hotel room, discovering it to be
meticulously clean. I set my bag down and immediately marched over to the
large picture window, pulling the curtains tightly closed. Then I marched
back over to Travis, pulled the snowboard and duffle bag from his grip, and
grabbed him by the arms.
	"Come here," I barked, leading him over to the bed, flicking the Resistol
hat from his head, pushing him down onto the comforter. Straddling over him,
my hands clutching his wrists, I said, "It's our last afternoon and evening
together, Cooper. What do you want to do?"
	He grinned, seeming to enjoy being held captive beneath me. "You're welcome
to do whatever you want, Gyllenhaal."
	"Good."
	And, with that, I drowned him in a sloppy kiss.


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