Summer Camp - 16. Resistance

Paddy opened his eyes to find Troy stepping into the shower cubicle with him. He opened up one arm and smiled as the shorter man came to stand in the space made by his body under the hot water. Paddy had fed the machine ten tokens, enough to stand under the spray for over an hour, and he had been dreaming of the warm rain of summer in the mountains before Troy had come in. Neither of them looked too much the worse for wear, considering how much they’d drunk and had then slept on the sofa for much of the remaining night. Paddy would have been happy to stay where they were, except Troy had woken, as always, at the first light of dawn, and managed to complain about being sticky and half naked and slightly cold and in a really public place. Of course, there hadn’t been sight nor scent of any of their human companions as they had walked to the shower block with towels and shower kits. Paddy had grabbed his great kilt on the way from the cabin as well.

Now Troy kissed the base of his throat and purred up at him through the falling water. Paddy smiled at him, stroking his fingers through Troy’s fine hair.

“You look ridiculously happy today babe.” The lynx said softly. “I thought you’d be a big one for hangovers and sleeping late.”

“Aye. When we’re done here I am dragging ye back tae tha’ big bed o’ ours and havin’ another four hours kip.”

“You are not.” Troy punched his chest ineffectually. “We have a pair of bows to make. The wood will be nice and dry by now.”

“But babe…” Paddy trailed his fingers down the furrow of Troy’s spine, heading towards his arse. “Tha bed’ll be nice an’ soft…” His hand drifted down between the cheeks, bringing Troy to push right up against him, skin on skin contact from chest to knee.

“Oh no you don’t.” Troy’s fingers were tight around his wrist. “You gotta be patient.”

“Troy!” Paddy growled. It had taken two months to get this far, and he wanted to shout: How patient could he be? But he felt the bond between them, and the playfulness in Troy’s voice knocked through his sudden annoyance. “Oh…”

“Feels kinda weird.” Troy squirmed against him. “Like it’s sort of sore, but I really wanna feel You inside me again. Is it always this strange?”

“Dunno babe.” Paddy found his shampoo and started to lather Troy’s hair as his mate relaxed against him. “I went straight from wha’ I did tae ye, tae getting fucked in tha same ten minutes. It only felt weird fer a moment, an’ then it jus’ felt good.”

“Is it mean that I kind of wish you hadn’t been with anyone before me?” Troy rubbed the suds off his hair under the water. “I know it’s really selfish, I wasn’t a virgin either.”

“I ken it’s natural.” Paddy turned to let Troy scrub his back, short blunt nails raking over his skin. “I hate tha idea tha’t ye’ve been wi’ other people. Especially wi’ girls. But then, even tryin’ tae think about someone else makes me want tae throw up.”

“Well there are no other people now.” Troy muttered in his ear, slim fingers slipping between Paddy’s thighs to stroke his cock. Already the bear was half hard, just from being near his mate, and Troy smiled and kissed his shoulders. “And I got you all to myself.”

Paddy snarled and pushed back against his lover as the slender young man pushed his own erection between his cheeks. Braced against the wall of the shower, Paddy could think of no better way to start his day than by being fucked hard and fast under the warm water by the man he loved.

*

It was sunny, warm, breezeless, and Troy laid the two dry sticks and a selection of sharp tools out on the grass in the smaller field. The only person they had seen so far was Ava, who had waved on her way to the mess hall, and again as she carried tea and a giant bag of crisps back to bed in her pyjamas. Paddy had assembled breakfast out of what he could find in the cupboard of the mess hall, and they sat on the grass eating slightly stale toast with the one jam Paddy had been able to find.

“Me Mam makes really good jam.” Paddy munched his way through his third jam and toast sandwich. “I shuid get her tae send some down.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had jam before.” Troy mused, licking the sticky sugar off his fingers. “but then, until yesterday I’d never had toast.”

“Yer mad babe.” Paddy thumbed crumbs from his mate’s cheek. “So go on, what is it we gotta do here now?”

“Well, we need to rough out the staves.” When Paddy looked at him blankly, Troy sighed. “A bow is a smooth and simple shape, but it has to be totally even. For a bow to work properly, it also needs to be totally dry. These sticks,” He gestured to the wood on the ground, “Are dried enough to start working with, but once we’ve roughed them out and taken a lot of the wood away that we don’t need, they’ll be able to dry fully, and we’ll have some much better bows at the end of it. You follow?”

“Aye.” Paddy hefted the oak that would become his bow in one hand. “Ye ken I hae nae idea hae tae work with wood right?”

“That’s fine.” Troy grinned, full of confidence and quiet joy, “I do.”

Together, they marked out the staves, and Paddy found splitting the wooden lengths in half down the length wasn’t as hard as he had previous thought it would be. Troy used a little wedge shaped knife with a short stubby handle and one of the rubber tent mallets to spilt his own branch before he handed it over to Paddy. The wood, when it came apart, had a natural curve, with the bark on the interior side, and when Paddy held it up in one hand as he had seen the kids do for archery, he found the rough stick already echoed the shape of a bow. It was too long, too rough and too straight, but already the wood knew what it was going to do with its afterlife.

“Tha’s cool.” Paddy sat cross legged on the grass with the stave over his knees, running his fingers over the grain of the wood. “It’s like it knows.”

“It does.” Troy was as calm and happy as Paddy had ever seen him, lazing in the sunlight and working with tools he had brought with him from home. “Dad always said if you treated the resources of the wild properly, they would help you when they could. I asked these trees if I could have their branches, and I only took branches which had very few leaves, they weren’t doing anything particularly useful. I didn’t hurt the tree more than I had too.”

“An’ ye think I’m simple fer believing in tha Great Spirits?” Paddy raised an eyebrow at his mate.

“Not anymore babe.” Troy handed him a knife which looked like a miniature machete. “You’re going to start thinning out the end with this. You want them nice and even, follow the straight line I gave you.”

It was the most natural and relaxing thing in the world, to end up in the fields, sitting nearly back to back with his mate, both of them working in near silence on the wood of their bows. Troy had marked out a straight line that ran from tip to tip, and boxed out a centre section where the handle would be when the bow was done. Paddy used the blade flat against the wood and worked away from himself in long smooth and shallow strokes as he had been instructed, taking off the wood evenly from both sides and both ends, creating the narrowed ends of the bow, tapering them in towards the centre. When he’d taken off roughly half of the original wood and softened the square shape of the handle, Paddy put the wide edged knife down and cracked his back as he stretched.

“You’ve done well there babe.” Troy had finished roughing out his bow long before and had his sketchbook lain out across his knees. He was quiet a long way through it now, the rough, hand pressed paper pages covered in sketches in graphite and camp fire charcoal. Paddy was in a lot of them, both as a man and wearing his fur, but there were others of trees, tiny images of leaves and stones, a scene showing the lake and Paddy standing in the water holding a large trout, the whole page rendered in frenetic detail. There were others still which had been drawn from memory. And Troy was even now sketching a scene of thick snow that Paddy didn’t recognise, a glacier raising its icy head over the dense trees.

“Home?”

“Yeah…” Troy sounded wistful. “Real home, back in Norway.” He let the graphite pencil come to rest at the tip of a pine tree. “Most of our family is still there, but they live in Oslo. Even dad’s brother thought he was weird for the way he loved the wild so much.”

“Why did you leave?” Paddy asked gently, laying his bow alongside Troy’s in the grass.

“It hurt to stay. Mum said that even the wind reminded her of him. She couldn’t bear it. I was sixteen, so I could have stayed if I wanted, but I came with her. Mum got a job working for the National Trust up in Cumbria and I stayed in the forest as much as I could.”

“You ever think of going back?”

“We’ve been to visit a couple of times. I miss the snow.” The lynx sighed. “It’s hard being around the family. They miss him, but not like I do, and I hate that feeling when I see my family in their fur. It makes me miserable. Every time, just for a moment, I think I can see dad, or smell him, and I hate it.” Troy turned the page and picked up a thicker charcoal stick. “Sometimes remembering hurts too much.”

“Isn’t it nice to remember the good times you had together though?” Paddy had very little frame of reference for what he was saying. He’d never lost anyone he cared about.

“I don’t like sharing my memories of him. It’s selfish I know. I don’t think I’d ever go back. Not permanently”

Paddy flopped backwards in the grass, and stared up at the clouds drifting above them in the blue sky. Troy coughed gently, and reached out to lay the fold of his great kilt over his thigh.

“Can I draw you?”

“Sure.” Paddy shrugged from his prone position. Troy didn’t often ask to draw him, and there were a fair few images of Paddy either asleep, or imagined in wakefulness.

“I want to draw you in your fur. I think everyone’s still asleep enough. You wanna go for a walk in the woods?”

Paddy didn’t need asking twice. He nipped up and took the staves while Troy gathered up the tools, stowing them in the corner of their little cabin. He didn’t bother with more than his great kilt and a pair of flip flops dug out from the bottom of his bag, because he wouldn’t need them much anyway. He’d gone barefoot a lot more since he and Troy had begun having random jaunts into the woods, but his feet were not made of the same leather as his mate’s, and he preferred not to have to dig small stones and splinters out from his toes afterwards. With his arm over Troy’s shoulders, they headed into the forest, leaving the path to head towards the little private copse of trees where they had enjoyed each other’s company many times in the last few weeks.

It was a bright day, and there was plenty of light coming through the thick canopy. Everything became tinted in yellow and green as they passed through patches of dappled shade. Troy didn’t shrug away from him or remove his possessive arm. Apart from the first weekend where they had run in the rain, Paddy couldn’t remember being happier.

He stepped out of his flip flops and began to roll his kilt up when they entered the seclusion of their little copse. They were so far from the well-trodden paths of pale sandstone dust and the muddy tracks that lead the way to the tree top walk and the assault course, Paddy didn’t worry about his nakedness. The land around here was thick with their scent trails, blue and green in his inner vision, and here and there, touched with the soft swift gold of the hare running with them. Paddy smiled to think of Gregg, back with his family, what was left of it, hopefully stronger for his time with them.

“He gave me his number you know.” Troy said softly. He opened up a page at the back of the sketch book, and there was a beautiful charcoal rendering of the hare that was Gregg, looking like he’d been frozen on the paper, and underneath, in a cursive script, a telephone number and an address. “He promised to call next week. He wants us to meet his mother.”

“When did ye do tha’ babe?” Paddy went to stroke the picture, his fingertips expecting to feel the velvet texture of Gregg’s fur. “I daen’t think I ever told you how much I love ye drawin’s. I wanted tae, tha’ first time I saw them, but we sorta ended up haeing another argument did we nae?”

“Sorry.” Troy touched his arm, fingers tracing the faded scars his claws had left. “I love you.”

“I ken.” Paddy kissed the man he loved and stepped back, letting all his breath flow out of him. He glowed green all over, the same as the sun on the new leaves, and then Paddy shook out his fur, quivering from muzzle to tail before he sat on his haunches.

Troy stepped quickly towards him, pressing his whole body into the thick soft fur and the warmth which came off Paddy in waves. The bear reached over his head, selected a branch and took the sprig of silver beech with the fat leaves down and gave it to his mate.

“Haroone.” He said softly. Troy took the twig and sniffed it, beaming. He tucked the branch behind his ear into his hair, and went to sit with his back against another of the tall trees. Paddy turned in a circle and regarded his lover with big chocolate brown eyes. “Haarrooaw.”

“Just sit and be comfy babe.” Troy found a clean page and began to sample two different charcoal sticks against the paper in one corner, making a point on one and a flat edge with the other. “I might take a while.”

It was strange being drawn when he was awake. Every time Paddy scented a rabbit or a bird, he wanted to go and investigate; when there were voices, miles away and right on the edge of his hearing, he twitched and jumped. Troy shushed him to be still while he drew. Eventually there was nothing but the soft sound of Troy’s artists fingers skimming the charcoal over the paper, the gentleness of his breathing, slow and relaxed and Paddy laid his head on his paws and closed his eyes. He was not asleep, but it was somehow nice to lie in the forest, knowing he was watched and safe, protected by the man he loved. In all probability there was nothing Troy would be able to do if they were discovered, and Paddy didn’t dare think what a rumour of ‘a bear in the woods’ would do to the reputation and bookings for the Six Trees campsite.

When he opened his eyes the sun had moved a paw’s width in the sky and Troy had laid down his charcoal and drawing pad and was sleeping softly against the tree. Paddy got up, and went to go and look at the drawing that had been completed. It was a lovely image. A spectacled bear, very black and white, sitting in the woods with his chin on his paws, eyes focused on some distant point not on the page. Paddy touched the tip of his nose to the paper and smiled. Troy had drawn him the way he really looked, and his fur was soft and smooth and shone with the reflections of the dappled sunlight. He looked beautiful. Paddy knew instantly if his mother ever saw the drawing, she would buy it from Troy, frame it and hang it over the fireplace back home. The idea of Troy being in his house made him smile.

Paddy turned to where his mate was sleeping and nuzzled softly at the tender skin of his neck, the delightful little hollow between his neck and collar bones. Troy mewled softly, still sleeping as Paddy nosed his way down his lover’s shirt front, lifting the materials with his nuzzle to press his damp nose against Troy’s skin. He licked at his navel, then moved higher, pushing the cotton fabric up under Troy’s arms and pressed his tongue against one of the small blush pink nipples. Troy woke with a purr of pleasure.

“Patrick…” his voice was full of wonder and adoration, and Paddy felt the emotions through their heart string, strong and forceful as a bullet straight into his core. The boy sitting before him loved him with every fibre of his body. And it didn’t matter that Paddy was a bear right now, because he could smell the desire and lust rolling from his mate in waves of red and pink. Paddy licked again at the nipples, loving the texture against his tongue, indulging in the high pitched whimpers this action brought forth from Troy as he squirmed. When he pulled away, Troy growled in frustration.

“Babe…”

“Huurnt.” Paddy replied. He took the hem of Troy’s shorts in his teeth and tugged, moving the young man across the earth until he was no longer supported by the tree. Troy fell back against the ground, his cheeks pink, the blush spreading down his neck.

“Patrick…” The whimper was almost pained, but there was nothing but lust, touched with the tiniest purple hint of guilt in Troy’s words. When Paddy pushed is shirt back up again, Troy automatically tucked the fabric under his arms. it was an image Paddy found infinitely sexy. He licked and nuzzled a trail from one nipple to the other, making Troy squirm, and then worked his way across the skinny torso to lap at the golden treasure trail which peaked from the waistband of Troy’s shorts.

“Hooaawwr.” He asked.

Troy’s fingers shook as he undid the fly of his shorts, blushed as Paddy helped to pull the material down with his teeth and whimpered again as he pushed down his boxers, leaving himself exposed for the bear who loved him. His cock was pink, hard and shiny at the tip where Troy’s arousal had already dampened his underwear. Without warning, Paddy leant forward and ran his tongue from the base of Troy’s dick to the tip, making the young man squirm and gasp.

“Patrick!”

Pleased with his mate’s reaction, Paddy did it again. He kept the young man pinned; his fluffy chest against his legs, big paws either side of his ribs. Troy’s fingers were in his fur, gripping and pulling as he gasped, stroking him in swirling patterns as Troy writhed on the ground. Paddy huffed on his swollen member, making the organ twitch with the desire for release, then dropped his head and pushed his muzzle under Troy’s tight sac to press against his opening.

“No!” Troy’s eyes were wide and fearful. “Babe…”

“Rraow?” Paddy pleaded with him. He did not want to have to change back to explain to his mate this was normal, that rimming was secondary in pleasure only to getting fucked and he would enjoy it. Troy’s body already knew he would enjoy it, because the slender man smelt of sex and desire and Paddy desperately wanted to see his mate lose control of his body here out in the open. Watching Troy come was one of the sexiest things Paddy could think of.

“But…” Troy still wasn’t sure. Paddy found the string wrapped around his heart and sent all of his desire down it in a flood until Troy was gasping under him again. “OK.”

Paddy dragged Troy’s boxers from his legs and with his big paws either side of the young man, pulled him bodily forwards and into his arms, lifting him from the ground and cushioning his beautiful arse on a bed of warm fur. Troy was every fantasy he’d ever had come true, his body dusted with light hair, his cock thick and twitching against this hard stomach, his blush staining his cheeks, one hand half over his eyes as he watched, fascinated and appalled by his desire to see what was being done to him. Paddy pushed his nose under Troy’s genitals and nuzzled at his taint, making the young man squirm, which gave him better access to the rose blushed pucker of his entrance.

The bear licked at him, pushing his tongue relentlessly at the heat of his lover until Troy’s body gave up and admitted him in once again. Paddy grinned to himself, knowing he’d won this particular battle. He was one step closer to getting what he wanted, and as he licked at his lover, finding all the things that gave Troy pleasure, he realised what he’d been thinking of as battle, wasn’t at all. One of these days, Troy was going to let the bear screw him senseless, and both of them were going to enjoy it.

This isn’t a game you have to win. Paddy thought to himself. You love him and he loves you, everything else is just negotiating the terms for the rest of your life.

“Patrick!” Troy’s voice was barely above a whimper, the words almost indistinguishable in their urgency. “Patrick!”

Paddy withdrew just as his lover’s body clamped down around his tongue, and Troy called Paddy’s name as he came. The bear wasted no time in lapping at the salt-hot essence that decorated Troy’s skin, his chest thrumming with the pleasure of making his mate orgasm in the forest.

“Paddy…” Troy’s voice was sated and happy. “Oh…”

Paddy grinned, and since there wasn’t any rush to get back, he rolled over, bringing Troy with him, wrapping his furry arms around the boy and watched the leaves rustling above them both. Soon, one day soon, they would be able to lie like this all day with no fear of discovery, and the scent of the lake full of salmon drifting across the water. It was a good dream.