Work Text:
Jack tips the brim of Ennis’s hat down over his own eyes, grinning like he’s getting away with a crime.
It sits a little too low on him, too big, smelling like sun-warmed sweat and hay and Ennis himself.
The hat is old, softened around the edges from years of weather and work, and Jack can feel every bit of that history when he pulls it down snug over his curls.
Ennis looks up from where he’s tightening the cinch on his saddle and just…stares.
“Don’t,” Jack says, lifting his chin proudly. “I know I look good.”
Ennis huffs, but it’s that tiny almost-laugh he tries to hide, the one that warms him from the inside out. “You look ridiculous,” he mutters.
“No, you think I look cute,” Jack fires back, stepping closer, boots crunching softly in the dirt. “You always think I look cute when I’m wearin’ your stuff.”
Ennis goes a little red at that—just enough for Jack to notice, just enough to make his heart do that stupid skip.
“It’s a hat, Jack.”
“It’s your hat,” Jack says, softer now. “That’s different.”
He reaches out, tilting the hat back slightly so Ennis can see his eyes. For a moment, the whole world goes quiet—the horses, the wind, everything. Just the two of them, close enough Jack can feel Ennis breathe.
Ennis finally gives in, brushing a thumb over Jack’s cheek. “You steal all my things,” he murmurs.
Jack grins wide. “Only the ones that smell like you.”
Ennis pulls him in by the brim of the hat—gentle, careful, like Jack might spook—and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Jack melts instantly, leaning into him, hat brim bumping Ennis’s forehead.
“Fine,” Ennis whispers. “You can wear it.”
Jack smiles against his lips. “Already was.”
And Ennis just shakes his head, but he doesn’t take the hat back.