Chapter 18 – Patience

“Sean!” The red head turned from the cab of the little mini bus, one foot on the step, keys in hand. “I need to come with you.”

“Eh?” In two months, Paddy had never been off site once for his emergency trip to A and E, and Sean was slightly confused.

“Jus’.” Paddy hissed and fidgeted. “Jus’ say tha ye need me tae come wi’ ye tae carry stuff. Please!”

Sean shrugged.

“Come with me into town to help carry stuff?” Sean jumped up into the cab. “You can have shot gun.”

Paddy relaxed back into the seat and ran through his plan in his head. For two months and one whole week, he had been patient. He had waited, and now he was going to be rewarded. Everything was in place, the cabin was clean and tidy, and he’d remade the bed this morning, fluffed the pillows and swept out the floor. Troy was his birthday present, but Paddy was under no illusions. He was going to be the responsible one in this. Anyone’s first time had to be handled carefully. Troy’s first time had to be perfect, special, amazing beyond all comprehension. Paddy was going to take good care of the man he loved, which was why he was going into town with Sean, to buy candles and lube. He didn’t care if it made him ridiculously romantic, because he wanted to Have Troy underneath him, on top of him, glowing in the candlelight, his eyes flashing blue. If Paddy had had any time for jerking off, that would have been his fantasy now for weeks on end.

“So are you going out for your birthday this weekend?” Sean asked.

“Aye, Noah’s taking us out. I figure we’d invite e’ryone an all go together on Saturday.”

“Sounds like a good plan.” Sean grinned. “And you’ll need some local knowledge to steer you in the direction of the good clubs.” Sean growled at the gear stick as he shifted down to park the mini bus in a space that was, by rights, too small. “So what are you getting in town?”

Paddy grinned at his friend.

“Ye daen’t want tae ken.”

“No. I probably don’t.” Sean sighed. It was his turn to do the beer run and get the groceries they couldn’t order from central in for the week. “You got any special requests for your birthday then big man?”

“Salmon?” Paddy grinned. “We have them in tha lake back home. Salmon would be gid.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Paddy wandered into town with his hands in his pockets. He had eschewed the kilt in favour of his only pair of jeans, little worn since the summer had started to properly warm up. He’d never been into town here, and it was strange to remember he really was hundreds of miles from family and friends. The site was only a half hours drive away, but the people in town all smelt like chemicals and soap, and it was easy to forget, at least for them, that there was a massive woodland full of animals and wildlife, just around the corner.

Lube wasn’t a problem, and Paddy got two kinds in the belief Troy would appreciate the choice. It would be nice to actually have sex in the bed, with actual preparation. Even though Gregg had left, and Nic had warned them off mucking around in the forest, they still seemed to be having most of their sex outdoors, regardless of what shapes they were in. The running at midnight was the best, though Paddy found himself wishing for rain and the chance to run half naked through the water in the middle of the day and muck around on the assault course again.

Candles turned out to be more of a hindrance, because in his whole life, Paddy had never actually tried to woo anyone. Ever. His mother owned candles, and liked to light them in the winter and at Christmas time. But Paddy had never bought any for her, or been with her when she had. His taste in shopping was a little different. His mother did not appreciate spending hours in outdoor shops discussing the latest climbing harnesses and comparing carabiners. After three shops, Paddy was forced to ask a passing mum with kids, who pointed him down the road and towards the scent of wax and romance.

Paddy paid for the candles, and walked out of the shop and straight into someone who had been crossing the frontage. As he reached down to help the guy up, something snagged in his brain.

Once upon a time, you would have said he was cute. Paddy looked the stranger up and down. He was what he had come to think off as ‘his type’, wiry, cute, a bit taller than Troy but not as defined in the shoulders. He apologised, nodded, and continued down the road. He was the furthest he had ever been from his mate. The distance was huge compared to the spaces they had been separated by before. But there was no strain, only a soft directional tug. He knew if he headed east and a little north, he would find Troy. Just to see, he reached out along the line to find his mate.

Troy was sat in the field, sewing something. He felt happy, contented, and he was thinking of Paddy. That was enough.

He met Sean back at the minibus and hopped up into the cab.

“You do realise now you’ll actually have to help me carry stuff out of the van, right?”

“Aye.”

“So, you and Troy? When did that happen exactly?”

Paddy smiled. It was actually difficult to remember a time before Troy. Before Troy, there had been nothing but a string of cute but pointless boys. Fuck buddies and one night stands. Paddy had always been assured of finding his mate, and he had never bothered before to nurture a relationship. There were no boyfriends, only convenient people in clubs and bars, at college or friends from town. He’d never led anyone on, never lied about his intentions to cut and run. Everything about being with Troy was different and wonderful; not perfect, because perfect wouldn’t have ended with scars all up his arm

“Tha first day.”

“You’re shitting me?”

“Nae. I ken right away tha’ first day. He’s tha one.”

“Good luck.” Sean said as they pulled out onto the main road, which was still only one lane in either direction.

“Why?”

“You’re obviously a hopeless romantic.” Sean sounded like he couldn’t work out if it was a good thing or not. “You’re gonna need all the luck you can get.”

*

Troy was sitting on the grass, cross legged, with the roughed out stave of his bow across his knees. Sean was still working on his, having not done the world’s best job of roughing out by the campfire. Paddy’s oak was lying on the grass looking forlorn.

“How was town?” Troy asked gently.

“Busy. I missed ye.”

“I needed carry to help with the load. Had to get lots of beer in for the weekend.” Sean replied in between strokes of the knife.

“What‘re we doing now, pet?” Paddy sat across from his mate, their knees nearly touching, and Troy handed him a much smaller, thinner knife than he had used before.

“Time to take off the bark and really start to shape the handle, then we’ll cut the notches in both ends for the string and start tillering.”

Paddy frowned.

“Bending.” Troy clarified.

It was slow and rather relaxing work. Paddy took off the bark in smooth strokes with a flat bladed knife a bit like a fruit knife and spent a long time measuring out the notches in either end. The wood was starting to feel smooth and soft under his fingers, free of splinters and burrs. After that, he sat and sanded in the afternoon sun until his hands were tired.

“Here.” Troy handed him a green glass cider bottle, empty and with the label removed.

“Ta babe, but I wuid rather hae it full.”

“Very funny.” Troy wrapped his fingers around the back of Paddy’s neck, possessive and strong. “You need to burnish the back of your bow before you can start to bend it.” He hefted the bottle in his other hand and began to rub it along the back of his own bow stave. “It compresses the wood you’ve just so patiently been sanding; smooth’s it down and makes it gleam. Without burnishing, the fibres won’t be strong enough to withstand the pressure of you drawing it back.

Paddy took the bottle back from his mate and began to smooth out the back of the bow with the glass. The wood glowed under his hands, almost magical in its suppleness and softness. Never in an hundred years would the big bear have believed he could have turned an ordinary stick into such a beautiful object. The box was two thirds his height and about an inch and half across at the widest point. The oak wood shone.

Tillering came in three stages, but Sean hadn’t caught them up enough to join in and left his roughed out bow drying in the mess hall to go and make dinner. Paddy smelt the salmon even before it went on the grill.

“From this point on, we only remove wood from the belly of the bow.” Troy explained, stroking the interior curve of the oak stave. “After all, we don’t want to ruin all the lovely burnishing you did.” He handed his mate a tool that looked a bit like an evil cheese grater on a handle. “This is rasp. You use it to remove wood from the belly of the bow. Start at the handle and work outwards, nice and evenly, then we’ll start bending using the floor.”

Apparently, tillering meant applying pressure to the bow, evenly from either end, until it started to show more of a curve. The natural flex of the bow helped some, but it was frustrating not to just keep pushing until the thing broke.

A bit like a relationship, Paddy thought to himself. All these things take patience and time. When he looked across at Troy, he wasn’t sure he could tell for certain, but the lynx was definitely looking at him with a hungry, wanting sort of expression. He took wood off the bow, going slowly until he could bend it with the floor by about three inches. It felt very strange to put the tip of the bow on the ground and push into the natural curve with his weight. Troy said that if he was careful but firm, he wouldn’t snap it, but Paddy still worried. Finally Troy held up a long twisted string. The sun was starting to go down, it was nearly dinner, and Paddy was being distracted by the idea of candles, duvets and birthday sex.

They carried the bows to the equipment shed, which was dry and safe and where the bows would be out of the way while they weren’t working on them. Troy strung the bows with a loose string and set them up on two lengths of toothed wood.

“We use the string to train the bow where to bend and how to bend. You have to do it really slowly, or it causes weak spots that will snap later on.” He brought the string back six notches until the limbs were bent about four inches. “See how the bottom arm is bending slightly more about six inches in? That’s where you need to remove wood from the other limb a bit more.” He marked the place as a mirror opposite with a pencil. “Tomorrow. We can probably finish them off tomorrow.”

Paddy wrapped his arms around his mate as Troy unhitched the string from the tillering board and set both bows on their tips against the wall. Troy smelt like wood shavings and sawdust, the rich sweetness of sap and trees and things living and growing.

“Thank ye pet.”

“What for?” Troy turned slightly in his arms, pressing his narrow body against Paddy’s chest.

“Fer teaching me. Fer bein’ brave an’ telling e’ryone about us.” Paddy nuzzled into his hair. “Fer the fact I can tell yer thinking about what we’re gunna do taenight.”

Troy shivered in his arms.

“Maybe we should take a shower before dinner babe. Doubt Sean wants us showing up covered in sawdust.”

Paddy watched with one arched eyebrow as his mate plugged enough tokens into the shower box to keep them warm and wet for an hour or more, then shucked his t-shirt over his head. There was no one else about and they had the shower block to themselves. Troy had guaranteed this by taking the little wooden chair which sat for some inexplicable reason near the door and wedged the back of it under the handle. No one was going to be disturbing them. Paddy folded up shorts on the little bench and toed out of his hiking boots.

It had been an exhausting week with the all-girls group, who had squealed a lot and apparently been allergic to mud, dust and grass stains. It had been wonderful to sit on the grass and relax with his mate, working on the bows in the knowledge that the cabin, with five minutes and a box of matches was going to make the place glow like every romantic movie Paddy secretly enjoyed. He took half a second to wonder if Troy even watched movies in bed sometimes as he adjusted the hot water.

“Patrick.” Troy wrapped his arms around his torso tightly, fingers skimming across his chest. “I love you.”

Paddy turned and kissed the man he loved full on the mouth, pressing Troy back under the spray of the shower until he was backed up against the cubicle wall. The big Scot growled against his freckled skin and the feline under his hands purred in delight.

“I’m starting too really like these showers.” Troy murmured softly. Paddy looked his mate up and down and took the time to actually absorb his appearance. Troy didn’t actually look any different, same hair, same skin, same interesting freckles and soft gold downy hairs covering his chest, trailing down to his abdomen. Paddy closed his fingers almost automatically around the soft skinned length of his mate’s thickening erection.

Troy purred against his skin, nipped and nibbled until his even teeth located one of Paddy’s tea coloured nipples and bit gently at the sensitive skin. Paddy grunted between his teeth at the familiar tingle of pain and pleasure that coursed through his system.

“Babe…”

“Hmm?” Troy leant up and smiled, all teeth, and even though Paddy was already stroking him with both hands, Troy looked totally relaxed, like he was the one in control of the situation.

Well we’ll see about that… Paddy growled low, took the feline’s slender hips in both hands and spun him around to face the wall. The hot shower poured down over them, forcing Paddy to step closer to his mate, looming over the shorter man as the warm rain thundered down onto his shoulders. He snarled into Troy’s hair, hands running up his ribs, finger in his hair. He could feel the excitement vibrating through Troy like the constant rumble of a river going over the falls, and he exhaled as he bit none too softly into the back of Troy’s neck.

The lynx growled, but Troy’s hand came up over the top of his head and he hung on to the back of Paddy’s hair. The lynx was braced against the wall his shoulders tight as Paddy ground his excited crotch into Troy’s pert rear. Paddy switched to kissing his mate, using his tongue to soothe the raw skin. He could feel emotions leaking through every point where they touched. Troy was aroused, excited, curious; nervous and slightly scared. Paddy poured love and confidence back at him until his hand wandered down to find Troy pressing his butt firmly towards him with a soft whine.

“Paddy…”

“Oh babe.” Paddy wrapped his free arm around Troy’s chest, pulling the smaller man against his thudding heart. Troy was still holding onto his hair, his other hand wrapped around the pipe work leading from the shower and a small distracted part of Paddy’s brain wondered if they’d end up ripping it out of the wall. He pressed his wet hand between Troy’s arse cheeks and felt the young man buck against him. A little extra preparation couldn’t hurt.

He still went slowly, being careful and watchful of the emotions pouring through the bond between them. But with every touch Troy was more demanding, more insistent. He wanted Paddy’s fingers invading his most private of places, and his clamorous mewls and whines made the bear’s cock throb ever faster. Troy wanted him, whimpered for him, growled his name in frustration and need. It was like the lynx had a direct link to his cock through his ego, and even though Paddy was helpless to do anything other than exactly what Troy wanted, he felt like a god. Troy pushed back against him and Paddy added a second finger, thankful of the shower which poured over them slicking their skin and easing his passage. He tapped on Troy’s prostrate and experienced the pain and pleasure of the lynx’s short fingernails digging hard into the back of his neck. He bit Troy’s shoulder as he fingered him, sucking and biting until he had raised a dark purple and red bruise on his pale freckled skin. Both of them were going to bear the marks of this.

“More.” Troy snarled. His free hand was clenching and unclenching, his fingers making unconscious patterns across the tiles. “Please.”

“Oh gods…” Paddy couldn’t help but stare at the sight of his three fingers entering his mate’s body. Troy was tight and hot and it was like invading the centre of the sun. Paddy groaned through his teeth in pleasure.

Troy let him go suddenly, using both hands to support himself against the tile wall and the pipe work of the shower. He knees sagged, and the tension melted across his shoulders. Paddy lent close to kiss his neck and found his mate was purring, almost exactly like a happy housecat being petted. Troy’s cheek was pressed against the tile and his arms, his expression lost in bliss and adoration.

“I told ye it were gid did I nae?”

“Fuck me.”

Paddy kissed his mate’s hair, bringing his other hand down to cradle Troy’s gently throbbing cock. He stroked his lover a few times, taking in his scent.

“Later babe.”

“No.” The word was so harsh, Paddy froze, confused by the sudden mix of lust and angry heat flowing from the man he loved. “Now.”

“But-” Paddy stared into two blue eyes as Troy twisted as best as he could to look up at him. But I bought candles. He wanted to say, and in his head it already sounded silly and romantically lame. I bought candles and lube and made the cabin all romantic. “I want it tae be special fer ye babe.”

How could it not be special?

Paddy blinked. He had no idea of the origin of the thought, could not tell if it was his or Troy’s, because their flavours were so mixed up along the bond between their hearts and minds.

“Patrick.” Troy said his name like he owned him, as though he was the most important being on the planet. Paddy felt his body respond without his mind. “Fuck me.”

Paddy withdrew his fingers and Troy mewled in a combination of pleasure, sudden emptiness and frustration. Hand on the young man’s hips, Paddy turned him around and pushed him back against the wall with a kiss. Troy answered with equal fervour, a clash of teeth and tongues until they both groaned in matched pitch. Paddy broke the kiss and leant back into the stream of the shower. He couldn’t get too carried away. Troy was impatient and hard and hot as hell and Paddy couldn’t deny him anything, but if he rushed this and it hurt too much, Paddy didn’t want to think what damage it might do to the bond that was thick and pliant between them. He kissed his mate again, softer this time, letting the lynx explore his mouth with his tongue and as he did so he lifted Troy bodily. The slender Norwegian wrapped his legs around Paddy’s hips and clung on.

With Troy’s hands clutching his shoulders, fingers wrapped back around the nape of his neck, Paddy lined up his achingly hard cock with the tender virgin opening of his lover. Troy tensed when the tip touched at him, and Paddy kissed him until the tension vanished.

“Troy.”

The lynx’s glacier blue eyes were huge.

“I love you.” Hands on Troy’s hips, he brought his lover down onto his erection. There was a moment of resistance, a long twang of pressure so intense Paddy was worried he might stop breathing long enough to end up wearing his fur, and then Troy’s body accepted him. He slid, in one long movement of the hips, into the man he loved, into heat like bathing in sunlight, and into a world of pleasure he had only previously imagined. For a split second before either of them moved or breathed, Paddy swore he could see the bond, strong and gold and bright like lightning, strung between their hearts.

Then the moment passed, Troy gasped and groaned and Paddy wrapped his arms under his lover’s legs, pushed him against the wall and jerked his hips so he slid almost all the way out before grinding back in, rubbing all the way against the sweet centre of pleasure inside Troy which made the lynx whimper and bite into his collar bone. It was so good Paddy could barely even think the words he wanted to say. When he began a slow and steady movement of his hips, he found Troy’s eyes on his even as the lynx gritted his teeth and snarled.

I love you.

The sensation of Troy’s whispered breath on his ear, even though his lips didn’t move made Paddy thrust harder into him. It was such a shock, to realise at no point had he ever been in control of the situation. Troy had engineered everything. The lynx snarled in overwhelming pleasure as Paddy hammered into him.

“Patrick!”

Every muscle was tense, each nerve ending on fire as Paddy lost himself in the pleasure of his mate’s body. Troy was tightening around him, everything was happening at once, and Paddy groaned in the same moment as Troy. They came in unison, a union of snarling, snapping teeth twinned with whimpers and moans. At some indeterminate point later, once Paddy managed to find his voice and remembered how to make it work, he breathed again, and his first words were stifled by Troy’s kiss. It wasn’t until the water of the shower finally petered out over them that the bear and the lynx stopped long enough to actually look properly at each other. Paddy stroked Troy’s hair back behind his ear softly as he pulled himself from the sheath of the lynx’s body. The young man shuddered in his arms.

There were many things Paddy wanted to say, but at that exact moment, he couldn’t think of the words to say a single one of them. Troy smiled, kissed him, and by degrees they released their hold on each other until Troy was standing with both feet on the floor. He swayed very slightly, and Paddy reached out and pressed a palm to the shower wall to steady them both. Troy giggled, Paddy chuckled, and then both of them were laughing softly, hardly able to catch their breath in order to speak. They kissed gently, and Paddy could feel the warmth flooding through him from the string in his heart. Finally Troy drew back long enough for Paddy to locate his words.

“Was it e’rythin’ ye wanted babe?”

Troy snuggled into his chest, his eyes closed, his chest thrumming with pleasure.

“I love you Patrick.” He kissed the skin over Paddy’s still drumming heart. “I love you.”

*

They were late to dinner, but neither of them cared enough to make an excuse. The salmon was delicious, and the atmosphere largely jovial. Neither Paddy nor Troy noticed Nic and Alexia were absent. They both found it hard to look away from each other long enough to answer even the most basic of questions. Paddy left Troy outside the cabin for two minutes, long enough to light all the candles and make the bed look appropriately fluffy, and the lynx beamed when he was let in.

“You did all this for me?”

“Aye pet.” Paddy wrapped his arm around Troy’s waist as he sat back on the bed. “I were goin’ tae be romantic.”

Troy snuggled into him. There was an awkward moment of the removal of shoes and socks and enough clothes until they were both snuggled under the covers, the duvet pulled up as though it was winter.

“Romantic is good.” Troy purred against his chest, his head pillowed on his folded arms as he lay atop his mate. “Romantic is fine as long as we still get to screw each other until we can barely see.”

Paddy grinned. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t been in control, because somehow in this strange and wonderful game, they had both won.