Summer Camp - 8. Found Out Down South

Paddy stretched out along the sofa, snuggled into his big grey and yellow hoody, freshly towel dried from the rain and the lake. He and Troy had fucked around in the showers, washing each other and splashing in the heat and steam. Now Paddy was dressed in his regular short kilt, and wriggled his toes in fluffy socks. It was quiet on the site, especially because of the pouring rain, and Troy had gotten himself dressed and now sat on one of the arm chairs with the sticks of charcoal from the fire and a large sketch pad.

“What are ye drawin’ thar babe?”

“Go back to sleep Paddy,” Troy muttered, “And hold still.”

Figuring Troy had already been patient enough for one day, sitting on the bed and letting Paddy brush his hair until it was silky smooth, Paddy wriggled himself into a more comfortable position and yawned. It was warm, he was dry and comfortable, satisfied and the rain outside pounded in a soothing manner on the roof. He slept.

He woke to soft voices, muttering low on the edge of his hearing.

“That’s damn good.” Noah’s Canadian twang made him interested. “What sort of bear is that?”

“A spectacled bear.” Troy’s soft reply, “They’re quite unusual.”

“Friendly are they?”

“Can be.”

“Do you sketch a lot?” Noah had obviously moved from his position, because now Paddy could hear him across the room, “You ever tempted to draw your boy there?”

“What?” There was a crash as whatever Troy had been holding slipped to the floor. Paddy sighed and decided it was time to be actually awake.

“Noah he ken.” He grunted, rolling over, “He’s cool.” Something Troy had been holding hit him in the shoulder. “Aww fuck babe.”

Troy growled and Paddy opened his eyes in time to watch his mate storming out of the mess hall.

“Sorry dude.” Noah slumped into the chair across from him.

“Shit, that’s nae going tae go well.” Paddy stretched, “I had nae got round tae telling him yet.” Paddy looked levelly across at Noah and noticed the Canadian had gone awfully still. “Aye?”

“Paddy?” Noah picked distractedly at his cuticles, “You’re a bear right?”

“Huh?” Paddy panicked, but he covered it well, hands in his lap to stop them from shaking. There could have been no way Noah had seen them, they’d been careful enough with their changing, tasting the wind for the scents of humans. Surely Noah couldn’t have seen them change. But he seemed unusually observant, “Ye what mate?”

“You’re a bear right? I mean, I still can’t work out what kind, but you are a bear.”

“Oh, very good.” Paddy made to stand, “I think ye might hae yer head screwed on tae tight.”

“Look.” Noah pushed his phone across the little coffee table, “Just look will you!”

Paddy took the device. On the screen was Noah, dressed in shorts and a blue t-shirt, and he was hugging a big black bear with a pale grey muzzle. The bear was hugging him back.

“Int’restin’ zoo ye got thar.”

“Look at the next picture.”

Another shot, almost exactly the same, except that now Noah was standing with his arm over the shoulder of a big, well-built hairy young man of about thirty, who just like the bear, had honey coloured eyes and beamed.

“That’s my cousin Daryll. He’s a black bear, so is my uncle, all the men in my mom’s family. You’re a bear, like he is. I know it.”

“I…” Paddy dropped the phone back on the table, “I can’t deal with this right now.” He could’ve kicked himself. A human had found out, somehow, and how still wasn’t clear. It was the greatest secret he had, the most important secret any shifter had, and now a human knew.

“Aww, sit down Paddy, it’s alright. I’m not gonna tell anyone.” Paddy stared at him, “Why would I? I only waited this long to be sure anyway.”

“How?” Paddy knew he was being uncharacteristically mean and snappish, but half of his brain was telling him to run. To run and get Troy and vanish from this place and never look back.

“Lots of things, none of them obvious to anyone else, don’t worry. You only eat fish, but you don’t own a rod, you move as though to take up much more space than you do, you smell a bit like home.”

“I thought only other shifters could smell that.” Paddy found himself sinking back onto the cushions of the sofa.

“Depends on how good your sense of smell is. Mine’s always been kinda good.” Noah looked proud as punch, “I never thought I’d meet a bear here. I mean, I phoned home and spoke to Daryll when I thought maybe you might be a bear. I didn’t know there were any families this far down South.”

“I aten’t from tha South.” Paddy explained.

“Well, I mean, duh. But your Dad is Chinese right? And I didn’t know there were any Chinese bears either.” He paused, “You’re not a panda are ya?”

Paddy laughed, clutching at his stomach and wiped tears from his eyes as Noah shuffled his feet, looking nervous.

“Oh aye, a panda, oh laddie you have got a funny mind thar. Nae, I’m nae a panda. I’m a spectacled bear.” Paddy drew the rough shape of his mask over his face in the air, “Black and kind of pale cream. I’m nae a panda.” He chuckled to himself, “I daen’t know if there are any panda’s. They only eat bamboo ye ken?”

“Good point.” Noah glanced towards the empty doorway, “If Troy’s pissed about me knowing about you guys, he’s gonna kill me now isn’t he?”

“Aye.” Paddy shook his head, “I’ll deal wi him.”

“He’s not a bear is he?”

“Nae, and I wi nae be telling ye what he is either. That’s his descision.”

“You really love him don’t you?”

“Aye lad.”

“I remember when Daryll found his mate. He followed the girl around like a lost puppy,” Noah grinned, “He’s not usually so easy to make fun of. You’re a lot like him.”

“I’ll taek tha as a compliment.”

“You should.”

“Aye maybe we’ll have tae come and visit ye’s liek.” Paddy straightened his kilt, “Though I expect they might nae be so keen on a gay Scot in a kilt.”

“Well, they might tease you about the kilt, but not anything else.” Noah shrugged, “Daryll’s favourite cousin on his bear side is gay. His mate is a human, comes to the big fish hunts and everything. I’m not allowed.”

“Ye can come fishing wi us aye?” Paddy stood, “I best go see him.” He gathered up the spilled charcoals and set them back in their jar. Troy’s enjoyment of drawing had been a surprise and when Paddy lifted the sketchbook he found the rough paper was almost certainly hand made. He wondered how one went about making paper.

The sketch Noah had obviously been talking about was open on the top page and Paddy stared at himself. The bear was him, no two ways about it, and Troy had captured everything about his face in the charcoal. The shape of his mask was exact, and Paddy swore he could see the starlight reflected in his eyes. It was amazing. He turned the pages with careful fingers and found other pictures, rough quick sketches of movement that felt like running, images of trees, the dark shape of the little cabin which they share nestled against the woodland. Then there was a page which made his breath stop.

Troy had drawn him, as he’d been on the sofa. The picture was so full of love Paddy could barely move or think or see anything past the charcoal image on the page. Everything, from the folds of his kilt, to the lines on his turned neck and jaw, was absolutely perfect. Anyone with eyes would have been able to tell, just from the careful strokes of the charcoal, the artist adored the subject of the picture.

Oh Great Spirits let him look at me like this while I’m awake.

Paddy closed the book and stuffed it under his hoodie to protect the sketches from the rain and dashed to the cabin. Troy was not immediately obviously there, but one sniff and a tug and Paddy knew he was inside the structure somewhere. Apart from the chest of drawers and the big bed, there was basically no other furniture in the room. Paddy put the sketch book carefully down on the bed and knelt down to look underneath. He lifted the blanket and found a pair of reflective eyes staring back at him, snarling.

“Dae nae be liek tha babe. He guessed, I didnae tell him.”

Troy snarled in response.

“His cousin is a bear. A black bear ye ken. He’s on our side babe.”

The lynx growled.

“Troy!” Paddy barked his mate name, “Wi ye just come outta thar and talk tae me?”

Afterwards, he realised how stupid a thing it had been, but he simply leant lower to the floor and reached in to grab the cat he loved who was so upset. Troy’s growl should have been enough warning for a man who had spent his life around animals, wild, tame and shifter alike. Paddy drew back his arm with a shout.

“OWW! Fuck!” Troy’s claws were sharp, and long, and the sleeve of his hoodie was slashed open, as was his arm. Paddy snarled between gritted teeth, lying on the floor on his back, his other hand clamped over his right arm. “Wha tha hell Troy?” Paddy moved his hand to look at his arm and half screamed in pain at the rush of blood under the lack of pressure. “Shit.”

The lynx crept to the edge of the bed, big glacier eyes watching him, equally angry and concerned, but now Paddy was in pain, and too annoyed to worry about the lynx’s feelings.

“Ye fuckin’ bastard! Wha did ye go and do tha for?” He growled.

Troy flattened his ears to his skull, hissed, showing all his fangs, and then sprung for the door. Paddy focused on the string between them and with what he visualised as his good hand, wrapped his fingers around them and tugged. In the rain, the spotted red-furred lynx went sprawling in the sodden grass, and came up snapping and snarling.

“TROY!”

The lynx turned back to him and began walking forwards, looking deeply unhappy. Paddy scrambled for a spare t-shirt and grabbed one, not caring how dirty it was, and pressed it hard over the wound. The blue fabric instantly started dotting with blood.

“Get Noah.”

Troy became human inside the doorway, naked, dripping, with his chest heaving with anger.

“Let me see.”

“Get Noah.” Paddy pulled his arm against his chest firmly. It was natural and right for him to want to reach for his mate and blindly he poured that desire down the string that connected them, but at the same time, he did not trust the man who stood before him. “Put on som’ clothes an git Noah.”

“But-”

“He’s a first aider. Jus’ fuckin’ do it Troy.” Paddy snapped. His mate pulled on a pair of discarded shorts and trudged out into the rain. Noah came skidding in a minute later, followed by a rather sulky looking Norwegian.

“Paddy?”

“Aye.”

Noah knelt next to him and prised his fingers gently from the wound. Paddy hissed between his teeth. Much of the t-shirt was stuck to the scabbed blood, and its removal made Paddy snarl.

“You did this to him?” Noah snapped at Troy, “Fuck. Hold up there big guy,” This was to Paddy, “I’m gonna cut off what’s left of your sleeve OK? Better than trying to get the whole thing off over your head.”

Noah had brought the first aid box with him and used the small scissors to slice off the hoodie sleeve at the elbow, removing the scraps to examine the partly clotted wounds in Paddy’s arm. There were four long cuts, moving in a slight spiral down his arm. Paddy saw the wounds and felt like throwing up.

“Shit. I think I can see bone. You’re gonna need stitches.” Noah ripped open the package on an antiseptic wipe, “This is gonna hurt like hell. I suppose you don’t clean your claws especially? Thought not.”

Oh dear fucking hell… ‘Hurt like hell’ was the biggest understatement Paddy thought he’d ever heard as Noah wiped swiftly at the wound. It stung like bees were trying to eat his skin. The big Scot slammed his free fist into the wall, making the single pane of glass in the window rattle.

“Patrick…” Troy sounded so abjectly miserable that Paddy wanted to reach out and grab him, pull him up against his chest and breathe in his scent until he was calm, but his pain kept distracting him from that thought. “I’m sorry.”

“What on earth were the two of you fighting about anyway?” Noah had finished with his antiseptic and was now binding a clean pad to paddy’s arm with a roll of medical gauze.

“You actually.” Paddy mumbled, “Fuck, have I really got to have stitches?”

“Unless you have some kind of super-shifter healing I’ve never heard of?” Noah packed his things back into the first aid kit, “Then yes, stitches it is. Troy, you’ll have to hold the fort down while we’re away.”

“NO!” Both shifters shouted at the same time and Noah glanced from Paddy to the damp and sad man who still stood in the centre of the room and dripped.

“Nae. He’s gotta come tae.” Paddy said firmly.

“Is that wise?” Noah countered,

“I do nae care. We have to be together.” He opened out his free arm to Troy, “You’d best be fucking sorry.”

Misery poured down their connection suddenly and Paddy had to stop himself from whimpering.

“Fucking… c’mere would you lad?”

Troy practically flew to his side, pressing right up against him, curving under his uninjured arm, whimpering.

“I’m so sorry Patrick. Please…”

“Hush,” Troy instantly stilled his snivelling, “It’s done now. An thank the Spirits tha Noah here di work out wi we are or we’d hae some fun explaining how I got mi arm slashed open by a non-existent feline.”

“We’ll tell the medics you fell against some scrap metal in the lake or something. Debris washed out by the rain. They won’t believe us, but now it’s been cleaned, they won’t be able to do anything about it.” Noah stood, “I’ll go let Sean know where we’re going, meet me by the car, I’ll take you.”

Paddy sat in the back of Noah’s little rented car with Troy curled up against his side. He was dizzy, and his vision kept on going in and out of focus while Noah drove. No one said anything, and Noah filed the silence with the radio on low. Paddy was really conscious for very little of the actual journey, and when they got to the hospital kept on sliding in and out of lucidity, usually whenever Troy let go of him. The slender man took his hand, in public, and held onto his mate. The emergency room nurses took paddy away to stitch him up, and asked him questions which Paddy simply mumbled answers to. It took of all of Noah’s convincing to stop them from keeping him over night. The doctors gave him painkillers and two more tablets to take when they got back, a tetanus shot to be on the safe side and antibiotics. Paddy slept the whole way home.

Nic’s car was parked up when they got there, and the rain has eased off to a light drizzle.

“Oi, oi!” Nic’s jovial tone was a harsh grate against Paddy’s bruised senses, “Where have you three been then?”

“Hospital.” Troy sighed.

“Oh Jesus! What happened?”

Noah shook his head slightly, and waved Troy away. Obviously he was going to explain.

“Go put him to bed and stay with him like the medics said, make sure he doesn’t swallow his tongue.” Troy nodded, and steered Paddy towards cabin four, leaving Noah to deal with their boss.

Paddy woke up when Troy pulled back the covers to put him in bed and managed to lock his fingers into his mate’s hair.

“Shoes.”

“Huh?”

“Nae shoes in’t bed. Or clothes.”

“Um…” Troy’s eyes were huge and bright in the darkness.

“Troy.”

“OK.” Troy unlaced his hiking boots and peeled him out of socks, placing everything on the floor as he undressed his mate, “I’m so sorry Paddy, I wasn’t really thinking. I do that, a lot. Mum says I’ve always been a bit irrational like. Got worse after Dad… just really defensive I guess.” He unbuckled Paddy’s kilt and managed to get the bear out of his remaining hoodie, “I’m sorry about your arm.”

“Hae many stitches wer’ it?”

“Forty six.”

“Aye…” Paddy was sleepy enough to let Troy roll him into the bed.

“You need to take these,” he held the white painkillers in his hand, “The doctor man said so.”

“Aye…” Paddy swallowed what was given to him and rolled onto his side, “C’mere pet.”

“But…”

Even mostly asleep and injured, Paddy was still adamant about what he wanted.

“Troy.”

The lynx shucked his clothes and climbed into the warm space along Paddy’s front. He tucked himself up against the big bear, listening to the softness of his breathing.

“I do love you y’know. I’ll find way of making it up to you somehow. I promise.”

Paddy simply snored in response.

*

Pain. Pain and a stinging sort of sensation, as though he could feel his skin trying to knit back together. Pain, stinging, and the wonderful warmth of fur against his chest. And rumbling, like some giant vibrating fluffy pillow as Troy purred.

“Marnin’,” Paddy swallowed dryly, “Ungh…”

Big glacier blue eyes looked up at him.

“Aye, I feel liek shite, ta.” Paddy mumbled. He leant up on his good arm and scanned the floor for boots and kilt. He needed to piss. What he saw made his stomach flip hard enough for him to gag. “Tha fuck i’ that?”

Troy mewled, and then he was human, snuggling against Paddy’s side.

“Peace offering. I got it for you this morning. It’ll help you get better.”

“Troy. Why is thar a dead fuckin’ rabbit on me floor?”

Troy blinked at him, confused.

“Water. Noe. And git rid o’ tha.”

“But-”

“I’m a fuckin’ pescatarian Troy. What made ye think a bunny wid make me feel better?”

The skinny Norwegian scrambled out of the bed, pulled on a pair of shorts, picked up the bunny by its hind legs and returned with a water bottle after a long minute where Paddy forced himself not to throw up at the lingering smell of dead animal flesh.

“Ta.” He took the bottle and drained half the contents, “Aye, tha’s better.”

“I don’t get it Paddy.”

“Wha’s tha babe?” Paddy wrapped his good arm around Troy’s hips as he sat back down, pulling him close. He’d already started his morning in a shit way, and he didn’t want the day to continue in the same way.

“If these Great Spirits of yours are really there, and we’re really meant to be together, why are we so different?” Troy didn’t make little air quotes when he spoke, and that alone made Paddy glad. “I mean, we have nothing in common.”

“D’ye nae remember anything aboot yesterday pet?” Paddy forced himself to breathe through the sudden pain in his arm when he tried to sit up. He stopped resting any weight on it, swung his legs either side of Troy’s thighs, and pulled the man back against his chest.

“I remember the last part well enough.”

“Aye, an’ stop sulking,” Paddy tickled Troy’s ribs with his good hand, “I remember yesterday tae. And thar were plenty o’ gid bits tae think aboot. More than bad stuff aye?”

Troy made an indistinct grumbling noise.

“We ran in tha rain, all those kisses. And ye remember wha we did at the assault course?” Paddy had the pleasure of watching his mate blush under his freckles, “See. Plenty o’ gid stuff babe.”

“You mean you’re not mad at me?” Troy turned in his lap, smiling hopefully.

“Babe, I’m fucking furious, but I aten’t gonna hold it over ye.” Troy blanched suddenly, “Ye gotta learn tae trust me.”

“Yes Patrick.” Troy snuggled against his chest, “I’m sorry.”

“Were it my imagination or was Nic back last night?”

“He was.”

“We’d best go hae breakfast then.”

“OK,” Troy hopped off the bed and turned to his mate, “You might have trouble getting that in your shorts though.”

Paddy looked down to be greeted by his morning Troy proximity erection and sighed.

“Aye lad,” he flicked at his cock, “Yer nae useful tae me right now.”

Troy’s kiss surprised him, his breath catching in his chest.

“babe?”

“Well my other plan didn’t work so well,” Troy pushed him back against the bed, “Maybe this’ll be better.”

Paddy was going to complain, going to protest. He was going to say a lot of things, like they couldn’t merely wash over all of their differences and arguments by having sex, and that giving head wasn’t exactly a useful apology for tearing open his arm. But all of those things got rather lost when Troy wrapped his hot mouth around his shaft like it was the most natural thing in the world for him to be doing. Paddy groaned, sinking into the mattress and blankets. There would be time for actual discussions later.