Summer Camp - 1. Instant Attraction

Patrick McZhang stood on the dusty track next to his kit bag and waved his parents car off until they were out of sight. Only then did he gather up the canvas sack, sling it across broad shoulders and walk his worn-in hiking boots up through the Six Trees adventure campsite. The road was made up of bits of naturally occurring chalk, generally sandstone coloured dust and the passage of many feet and tyres. Paddy sighed, realising the whitish-yellowish dust was going to stick to everything for the next four months.

The fields which were to be base were right at the end of what was rather generously called River Road. The two fields, either side of the road, were home for the next four long summer months. The larger field was currently completely empty save for the massive marquee tent, the shower and toilet block and the little wooden hut he assumed became the teachers’ lounge during each trip. The smaller field was partially screened by trees and contained a half sized permanent marquee with a concrete floor, a smaller shower block and a number of small wooden cabins which had been built in what the designer probably though was a rustic style. Paddy thought they were wasteful, because boards would have worked just as well as whole trees. The big Scot headed for the marquee, letter in hand.

“Blimey, they said you were tall.” The speaker was a short and stocky good-looking guy with brown hair, pink skin and a huge smile, “You’d be Patrick then?”

“Aye. Paddy,” He clarified with a nod.

“Nic West,” He reached across the back of the sofa and the two young men shook hands. “Well you made it OK, that’s the main thing.”

Nic waved at Paddy to accompany him across the room. Patrick dropped the canvas kit bag in order to follow him and Nic raised a quizzical eyebrow as the taller man stepped around the furniture. Paddy brushed road dust off the black leather of his most casual kilt, wondering now whether or not wearing it on the first day of his new residential job had in fact been a good idea.

His parents had been supportive, if not best pleased, at his decision to not only take and qualify for the expedition and activities instructor certificates, but exploited these by taking a four month residential position a five hour drive away from home. Four months with no family, no friends, no other allies at all. Just him, the wilderness, and a bunch of humans. Somehow Paddy had managed to convince his parents applying to work here was a good thing, and they’d gone along with it – provided he made the promise of regular phone calls.

Nic handed him a key on a bright yellow lanyard and a little money bag of round brass tokens.

“Those are for the showers. One token gets you about eight minutes, so they’re not that stingy. House key. You’re in number four, on the end of this row nearest the trees. You got a longer walk to the loos bud, sorry about that.”

“Ach, it doesnae matter.” Paddy wrapped the lanyard around his wrist, he had a habit of losing important small items, “I’ll go dump me stuff aye?”

“Yup, then come back for beer and meet the team. You got some catching up to do.”

Patrick nodded and snatched up his bag on the way out of the mess hall. It had been a pain not to be stationed at the sight up north which he had originally applied for, the six guys up there had been open and friendly, and while Patrick didn’t necessarily think the team here would be hostile, he wasn’t keen on being the new kid. Cabin four was easy enough to find, right up against the tree line and he shouldered the narrow door open, pulling himself and his kit bag through. Whatever lay ahead, this was going to be home for the summer.

The Scot dropped his bag with a heavy thud and stared at his new bunk-mate across the small cabin. He was maybe three or four inches shorter but his glacier blue eyes were fixed on Paddy’s own chocolate brown almond shaped ones. He had messy blond hair, pinkish skin, freckles, but it wasn’t really Patrick’s eyes noticing the really important things.

He smelt like home.

Which was fucking weird. The only people who smelt like that we other bears and he couldn’t possibly be another bear. There wasn’t a single clan in this country Paddy hadn’t either met, or wasn’t related too, or both. The beautiful man smiled in a knowing sort of manner.

“What now?”

Paddy felt as though every neuron in his brain had been fried by lightning, and no words would come. He stood there dumbly, staring. The blue-eyed man repeated the question with his lilting Nordic accent and Paddy found he couldn’t stand being under the frozen heat of those eyes any longer.

“I’m goin’ tae geit a beer ye ken?” He replied, and he dashed back out of the cabin.

It was easier to breathe outside in the fresh air, and Patrick closed his eyes and inhaled the scents of the forest; the nuttiness of pine trees, the sickly sweet scent of the birch, their sap pulsing softly and slowly thorough it’s veins. He had no idea how to explain what had happened in the cabin; only that his new bunk-mate had smelt like home, like nature. A familiar scent, but one he couldn’t place, like a memory made up of stories told to a child. And then his heart had started beating at a thousand miles an hour. Patrick crossed the field and ducked back into the mess hall.

The sun was down and twilight was creeping in across the tree tops of the woodland. The staff was heading back to the mess hall for socialising and to get something from the stock of beer, soda and snacks which had been provided for the first week as a settling in present. Nic grinned, and lobbed a can of Foster’s underarm as Paddy stamped the dust off his boots.

“You all settled in?”

“Aye.” Paddy lied, popping the can open and taking a swig. Nic flopped into one of the armchairs and crossed his boots on the little coffee table. Paddy winced; he hated wearing shoes indoors, much preferring thick plush rugs and fluffy socks to dust and bits of dead grass. The furniture was a mix of dilapidated front room furnishings, like the sofa, plastic patio chairs and old fold away camping furniture. He sat carefully on a green, sun-bleached plastic chair just as the young man with the blue eyes came in through the main door.

“Troy!” Nic smiled, he seemed genuinely happy to see everyone, “Beer?”

“Sure.” It was only the third word Patrick had ever heard him say, but all his instincts pulled towards the voice as though there was nothing else in the world.

“So how did you end up with a name like ‘McZhang’ then Paddy?” Nic asked across the table.

“Mam’s Scottish, Dad’s Chinese,” Patrick drained half his beer in about two seconds flat, “I got his colouring, and her height thank god because otherwise I’d have never lived it down.”

“Huh?”

“All my uncles are well over six-two. If I hadn’t at least made it to six foot I’ve been teased for life. I’m short in my family.” When he’d been a kid, Paddy had hated being different from the rest of his extended family. All the men on his mother’s side were built like – well, like bears. He was shorter than them, less broad, much less hairy generally. From his father Paddy had gotten his thick jet black hair, his yellowish-tan skin and the slightly exotic oval shaped eyes. And his fur. Now he was approaching his twenty first birthday, Paddy found he quite liked being different, and being half-spectacled in a clan of black bears was enough to get him noticed. Too bad most of the people who were able to notice were either related or straight – usually both.

“Well you’re damn tall enough for this place.” Nic laughs, “You’ll be shite at scrambling, too tall, too big across the shoulders. Your induction report says you can go up a tree like nobody’s business.”

Paddy grinned with a shrug, he liked going up trees.

“You and Troy both then eh?”

Patrick turned from Nic to look at Troy, who was standing behind the sofa, framed by the blackness of the door. The scent made his nostrils flare and Paddy felt the overwhelming desire to touch him. He’d never felt this out of control in his life. He fought the urge.

And then the truth dawned like being hit with a ten pound salmon right upside the head: He was the one.

Troy was a shifter, though he wasn’t a bear, and he was the one.

In all likelihood the two of them were going to be fucking like rabbits before the sun came up.

Troy’s soft but knowing smirk made Paddy realise he’d worked this out well before, back in the cabin. Which explained his question, and Patrick thanked any gods there might have been he didn’t blush in too obvious a manner. Troy’s pale skin was pink, his freckles very prominent across the bridge of his nose. If Nic noticed the tension between his two new recruits, he didn’t say anything about it. Wordlessly they drank their beers, and maintained eye contact as other people started to arrive in the mess hall. Paddy could feel the other man undressing him mentally, so he did the same, smirking constantly.

“Patrick…” Troy said his name like he owned it, and it caused the big man to shiver with desire. He’d never known he liked the sound of his name when it was said that way. The desire to simply get up, wrap his arms around the slimmer man and never let go was stronger every minute.

He was the one, the man Patrick had been looking for and now they were going to be spending the next four months in ether the company of co-workers or human children and young teenagers. I’m having a hard enough time not ripping his clothes off him now. Patrick thought, Well fuck, that’s inconvenient.

They were both snapped out of whatever trance they’d fallen into by flying snack foods.

“Fuck and damn you’re gonna take some feeding new boy.”

“Sean, this is Paddy,” Nic was obviously used to making introductions, “Sean is our cook.”

“And archery instructor. Dammit West, why d’you always leave that off eh?” The wiry red head dropped into the next chair along, “Tonight you get snacks and beer. Tomorrow I’ll make you all some real food.”

There were eight staff in all, And Nic began to make introductions as everyone collected snacks and supplies and found seats around the room. These were the people Patrick would be spending his life with for the next four months, but he could barely drag his eyes away from the narrow frame of the beautiful, overwhelming presence of Troy. It was as though the rest of the world was a cloud in his peripheral vision. It got harder and harder not to ignore every human in the room and strip the other shifter naked right there.

Apart from the red headed cook, Nic, Paddy and Troy there were two other guys, Levi Roth who was small and pale and did not look like the sort of guy you’d usually find wanting to be an outdoor camp instructor, and Noah Avery, who was very Canadian and all smiles. There were two girls, Ava who was the youngest of the bunch at nineteen, and after throwing a bottle of cider in the air and dashing across the room to catch it, proved herself to be completely nuts even if she did have excellent hand-eye coordination skills. The other girl was Alexia Franco, who had dreadlocks and sat away from all of the guys and frowned a lot.

“What are you wearing?” She asked with one arched eyebrow and a sneer.

“It’s a kilt ye ken,” Paddy was still finding it really hard to concentrate on anything anyone was saying. Noah laughed.

“It’s alright. Alexia just doesn’t like the fact you might be blending gender boundaries. You’ll step on her turf.”

“You wear anything under that?” Nic asked between swigs from his can.

“I’m Scottish.” Came the standard reply, which made Noah raise an eyebrow, and Alexia turn away with a sneer.

People talked, but the chatter and easy atmosphere were completely lost on Paddy. It was impossible to think of anything other than being with Troy. The man he wanted his entire life, ever since he was old enough to realise his dick though about guys, was sitting right there. Nothing else was important in the slightest. And yet, he’d said three words to Paddy and all the bear had been able to do was blurt out something incomprehensible about beer and run away. Troy sat there, not talking, in the folding camp chair with his bare feet tucked under his legs, watching Patrick with a his icy blue eyes. It was getting hard to breathe.

When Troy unfolded himself and stood, Patrick found himself on his feet, even though he hadn’t actually made the decision to get up.

“Er..” Paddy felt he should make some excuse for his behaviour, “Bathrooms.” It took all of his will power, but he walked past Troy and out into the clear cool evening air.

Despite being a campsite, Six Trees wasn’t all that rural. There were still the soft noises of passing cars, and though the sky was clear, the stars just didn’t seem as bright as they did back home. Paddy had never actually been away from home before, not really, and he wondered if the constricting feeling in his chest was only homesickness. But Troy was beside him, less than an inch away, and the swelling under his kilt told him this was definitely not mislabelled homesickness. It was exactly like being smacked in the chest with a caber, a force so incomprehensible it couldn’t be named. He didn’t love Troy, how could he, they didn’t know each other? But Paddy knew, with a clarity which would never fade, this was the man he was meant to be with for his whole life. He’d found his mate.

Troy jerked his head in the direction of the trees, and Paddy saw the expression on his face. Suddenly, neither of them could get there fast enough. It was dark under the branches, unless you were used to spending time wandering around woodlands at night. Paddy grabbed Troy’s wrist, pulled him back, found the other man’s mouth and brought their lips together for a crushing kiss. There wasn’t even time to think about what Troy tasted of. The big man found his heart was thumping away like it wanted to get out, and his urgency was only matched by Troy’s similar need to be closer than touching. Paddy growled against Troy’s lips and was rewarded with a high pitched moan. Troy was shorter than him, and narrower built too. Paddy found himself lifting the man in his big hands, pinning him against a tree even as Troy’s feverish fingers worked at the buckles of his kilt.

Patrick pressed his mouth to Troy’s throat, feeling his pulse beating like a war drum, inhaling the scent of him, familiar and foreign, earthy and cold like some distant snow-capped mountain. He snarled with need and wanting and his fist in the front of Troy’s shirt tore the fabric from his narrow frame. A moment later Paddy was flat on his back on the forest floor, pinned by the surprising strength of the slimmer man as Troy very effectively ravaged his mouth before his hands found a way into Patrick’s kilt. It was like being touched by someone who knew the inside of his skull. Paddy tore off his own shirt and stripped Troy out of his combats before either of them could do anything other than take another breath.

Skin on skin they rubbed together, pressed against each other from lips to knees, kissing, biting, licking, nipping. Troy’s teeth in his shoulder were sharp and the pain was only something to add to the ecstasy building inside Patrick body, somewhere between his heart and his aching crotch. Every instinct he possessed told him to mate with the beautiful, fierce creature in his arms. Troy seemed just as determined, fingers digging into his ribs, his hip as Paddy crushed them together. They rolled in the pine needle underbrush of the woodland, and Paddy was too busy to notice the bits of twig and soil which stuck to them both, made a mess of their skin and clothes. He sat up, bring Troy with him, worked a hand between them to claim both their erections, bringing them together with a heat and point of pleasure that made Troy almost whine against him, his body rigid and pulsating in his hands.

Top or bottom? He was going to ask, but there didn’t seem to be time, because Troy’s eyes had gone from the blue of glaciers to the heat of a gas flame and Patrick couldn’t stand not being connected to him for another second. The position was decided for them when Troy pushed him back and ended up kneeling between his thighs. Paddy moaned when Troy touched him, all too happy to give himself over to the man who was his other half.

Troy kissed him, hard and with teeth, and Paddy belatedly realised this time he’d given up the role of dominance and also that he did not care in the slightest. Troy’s teeth closed over his throat and he found his fingers in the messy blond hair, pulling him closer and urging the other man on. Troy snarled against him, his hand braced over Paddy heart while his other fingers found the bear’s entrance and pushed.

Paddy snarled, because God damn… It hurt, but there was no way he wanted to stop this. The inevitable was coming, and Paddy wanted nothing more than to have the strange foreigner inside him, to mate with him and be connected in the strongest and most primal way he knew. Troy stuck his fingers in his mouth, and returned to his task, opening the Scot up and pressing him until he writhed and gasped in pleasure. Everything took forever, and it was all happening too quickly, and Paddy couldn’t make any sense out of this thoughts at all except he wanted it Now!

As though he was inside his head, Troy obliged, pulling away his hand, knocking Paddy’s thighs out of the way with his knees. The head of his cock pressed against Paddy’s opening and the bear pulled his partner down for a kiss. Tongue’s clashed, and Troy was gasping into his mouth as he slid into the heat of his lover. Paddy groaned in pleasure and satisfaction, shuddered as Troy began to withdraw and near enough snarled when he slid back in. Troy’s forehead rested on his own, and there was nothing in his world except a pair of blue eyes. After a full minute of noiseless fucking, Paddy was sure he could have painted a picture of those irises with their myriad shades of blue and white, but would have no idea where to start finding such pure colours.

Troy screwed him in long, hard strokes, suddenly unhurried now that they were connected, and Paddy curved his hand around the back of the other man’s head, stroking the silk of his hair, taking the time now to properly explore his mouth. They groaned in tandem, pushing against each other, neither of them ever looking away from the other. Paddy had enough sense of self left to realise how well they fitted together, how perfect the entire experience was as Troy fucked him, every stroke brushing over the nerve endings that set his entire body on fire.

Troy was panting, they were both soaked with sweat, bits of grass and pine needles stuck to their skin and neither of them noticed or cared. Paddy could barely remember his own name, but every stroke he knew the shape and scent of his mate better and better. Troy kissed him hard enough to bring their teeth together with a clash, and Patrick recognised the swelling inside himself, the sudden hard relief of Troy’s muscles against his own abdomen. It was enough to see the impending desire in two blue eyes to push him way past the point of no return. His body clamped down on Troy, keeping him surrounded by gripping wet heat as they both found a climax that was shared. Patrick splattered them both as his orgasm made every muscle taut and rigid, and Troy snarled soundlessly as he came deep within the body of his lover.

Boneless and shaking, they collapsed against each other, and Paddy found the smaller man in his arms as he rolled onto his side, moulding to the shape of the soft ground. There didn’t seem to be much need to speak, because there was nothing to say. Everything was decided in that moment. Here was the man Paddy was going to spend his life with. There’d be time to get to know each other better later.

Oh Great Spirits… Paddy couldn’t find his voice. He hoped his thoughts were clear enough. Thank you for sending him to me.

Troy nuzzled into his shoulder, his stubble scratchy, and made a pleasured sort of mewling sound. Paddy felt his own answering rumble deep in his chest. Troy peered at him, head slightly to one side, and Paddy felt the shape of the question, even though no one had said anything at all.

“Bear.” He managed in a small voice.

“Lynx.” Came the one word reply.

With that all sorted, and with the man he was going to be with forever nestled in his arms, Paddy couldn’t think of anything better to do than fall asleep. At some point they’d have to get up, find their clothes and get back in the cabin. For now it was warm in the space between them, and sated, the pair of shifters both drifted into a quiet sleep.