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wyoming, 1983
wilbur stepped out of his burnt sienna chevy pickup, the paint on the cream stripe across the middle chipping to the floor as if it was a pathetic attempt of jumping ship, away from the hopeless shitbox he drove around. ash leaned against the truckbed, legs crossed at the ankle, and a marlboro he’s swiped from wilbur’s glovebox pressed between his thin lips, like not having it there would unplug all the thoughts racing through his mind at that moment.
“christ, ash.”
wilbur slammed the door behind him and turned to face away from his lover, if he could even call him that anymore.
“y’know, you had a fuckin’ week to say some other word about this. why is it that we’re always in the cold, huh? we oughta go south, where it’s warm — y’know, we oughta go to mexico, ash!"
he kicked up the loose pebbles under the heel of his boot, trampling over to the edge of the lake, and he stared out at the mountainous skyline. the same mountains him and ash had once lay around, once kissed around and once had fun around all but twenty years ago. but neither of them were nineteen anymore like they were in ‘63, and gone with the years were the love that the two men had for eachother. at least wilbur still kept his feelings known. ash was closed off from anyone, freshly divorced after his wife josephine had found out about him and wilbur, and he was practically a recluse, not speaking to anybody apart from his two daughters. wilbur felt cold, stinging tears well up in his eyes, and he just blinked them away, suddenly feeling a great distaste to cry in front of the man he had once felt free to show every emotion to.
“god, mexico? hell, will, c’mon.. you know me, the most travellin’ i ever done was tryna find my way around a coffee pot lookin’ for the handle.”
ash let out a laugh – stale and bitter, no true emotion behind it. not when he saw the other man’s back firmly faced towards him, shoulders hardened like a brick wall.
“hey.. c’mon, will, lighten up on me. we can hunt in november, huh? kill us a nice elk. try and see if i can get us don rose’s cabin again, cause –” another one of his stale laughs that grated on wilbur now, even though he loved them. “we had a good time that year, didn’t we?”
“there’s never enough time, never. enough.”
he finally spun to face ash, shoulders untensing the tiniest bit, almost as a pavlovian response to seeing the distant yet somehow still caring expression he was met with.
“this is a goddamn bitch of an unsatisfactory situation. that’s your issue. you used to come away so easily before. now it’s like seein’ the damn pope.”
“will, i gotta work. in those earlier days, hell, i’d have quit the job. you.. you don’t know what it’s like to be broke, ‘cause i bet you ain’t even gotta pay child support. i can’t quit this one, and i can’t get the time off for it. the trade-off was august. you got a better idea?”
his tone was stoic, voice raising in places it definitely shouldn’t. he was getting too worked up over this, almost as if it wasn’t his fault for simply not caring about the man he once believed he was destined to be with.
“i did once. mexico.”
“you did once.”
ash’s tone was mocking, pathetic. he’d barely strayed form his planted spot firmly against will’s chevy, the toe of his boot digging deep into the dirt beneath him.
“you been to mexico, will gold? ‘cause i heard about what they have there for boys like you.”
boys like you. the weight phrase hit will like a ton of bricks. boys like you.
“well.. hell yes i’ve been to mexico, is that some fuckin’ problem to you?”
the two men stared each other down, nose to nose – will’s pupils blown with anger, while ash’s remained normal with a semblance of guilt in them. his hands clutched the small rosary beads in his pocket, grounding him to the faith that he knew would’ve sent him straight to purgatory for the utter sins he committed twenty years ago – a reminder of the man he used to be. the man he was before he scared himself back into being a devout believer once again, telling himself the lord was the only man he’d drop to his knees for ever again.
“i’m gonna tell you this one time, will fuckin’ gold, and i ain’t foolin’ around with you. all those things that w- i don’t know could get you killed if i come to know them. ‘n i ain’t joking.”
ash spat at the ground as he tread away from will, dead grass and dry dirt crunching under the weight of his body.
“well, we’ll try this one, and i’ll say it just once.”
the burn of will’s eyes felt it had engraved two holes straight through ash’s skull, the thick frustration of both of the men hanging heavy in the crisp spring wyoming air.
“go ahead!”
“tell you what, we coulda had a good life together – fucking real good life. had us a place of our own. but you didn’t want it, ash. so what we got now is brokeback mountain! everything’s built on that, that’s all we got boy, fuckin’ all. so i hope you know that if you never know the rest.”
he waved his arms around like some sort of madman while he spoke, getting his frustration out through his gestures instead of running over and socking ash right in the face.
“you count the damn few times we’ve been together in nearly twenty years, and you measure the short fuckin’ leash you keep me on, and then you ask me about mexico, and you tell me you’ll kill me for needin’ somethin’ i don’t hardly never get!”
ash’s head hung like a dumbbell, cream ranch hat threatening to topple from his crown. he couldn’t bear to look will in the eye, not while he was being chided so harshly, especially about this. he could’ve handled it twenty years ago, when he’d get berated about not counting all the sheep, or forgetting their weekly stock of beans and bread down by the river. but, now? he felt like a kicked puppy to hear the truth behind will’s words.
will just continued, not caring if he was even being listened to or not.
“you have no idea how bad it gets. i’m not you, i can’t make it on a coupla high-altitude fucks once or twice a year!”
a scoff left his lips, and he spun back to face the lake. “you are too much for me, ashley. you son-of-a-whoreson bitch.” a pitying laugh left his lips, and he shook his head.
“i wish i knew how to quit you.”
those last eight words made ash’s resolve crumble. he pinched the bridge of his nose, his body shaking as he fought a response out of his throat.
“then why don’t you?! why don’t you just let me be, huh? it’s because of you, will, that i’m like this. i ain’t nothin’, i ain’t nowhere.”
he turned his body to face will, the few salty tears that had managed to escape trailed down his frozen cheeks, his hand in his pocket clutching his rosary tighter, as if the thoughts of finding refuge in will’s embrace disgusted him.
will saw the tears glint in the sunlight, and he sighed, arms falling to his side as he walked over to ash, trying to wrap him in a comforting hug, just to be met with a rough shove and a grumble of “get the fuck offa me!”, which just led to will crushing him against him and dragging the pair to the floor.
“it’s alright.. it’s alright.. damn you, ash..”
he ragged the cream ranch hat off of the crown of the other man’s head, lips replacing it on the spot where it lay, and he tightened his embrace around him as his heart wrenched in his chest to the sound of ash’s incessant sobs.
“i can’t stand this anymore, will.”