Summer Camp - 7. Alone Together

They waved the kids off after lunch on the Friday and watched the coaches until they were out of sight. Then it was time to clear down. Every piece of equipment, harnesses, helmets, high visibility jackets, carabiners and ropes had to be cleaned and checked, counted and stored away. They swept out every tent and moved them all roughly six feet to let the grass breathe. The tents were left with their doors open to air while the mess hall was cleaned out and washed down, all the tables given a thorough cleaning and the teacher’s cabin was inspected and put back in working order. The fire site had to be swept out, the ashes dumped. Troy took various twigs from the bottom of the fire and the jar of charcoal sticks sat on the windowsill in the mess hall while they gathered logs, chopped kindling, and Paddy gathered more tree stumps to make extra seats.

As the sun went down they closed up all the tents for the weekend and everyone ended up in the mess hall.

“Well, that’s the routine guys,” Nic practically fell into his favourite armchair, “Every week for the next four months.”

“Wha now?” Paddy asked. He’d toed off his brown hiking boots and wriggled his fluffy-socked toes on the coffee table. Troy had taken one of the less comfy camping chairs and Paddy really wanted to pull his mate over to snuggle into his side on the padded upholstery. To his annoyance, Levi sat down on the other half of the sofa.

“The weekends are free.” Sean replied, “If anyone’s sticking around for dinner, we’re having fish and sautéed potatoes. I finally managed to get a better list out of the wholesalers.”

Not everyone was hanging around for the weekend. Ava was going home to see her friends, Levi announced rather quickly that he was going home to get television and culture and looked extremely disappointed when Paddy grinned, mentioning he didn’t miss TV in the slightest. Noah was staying on site as well, as was Sean. Alexia’s father was coming to pick her up any moment.

“I’ll get next week’s supplies on my way back Sunday,” Nic said, “Pay up kids.” Beer, snacks and crisps were a tenner a week, if you wanted in, but anything specific had to be bought separate, “And label your stuff if you don’t want someone else helping themselves. Other than that, have a nice time.”

“And where are you going boss?” Sean raised an eyebrow, “Not like you to slip out at weekends.”

“I got a date.” Nic beamed.

“And you’re sure this ‘date’ will last you until Sunday?” Sean sounded doubtful, “We’ll see you tomorrow about mid-afternoon?”

“Cheeky fucker.”

“Well at least this job is a lot more active than my last one,” Ava stretched, “I’m knackered. Gonna sleep well tonight.”

“What did you used to do?” Levi asked.

“Oh, you know, one of those crap standing behind the till wastes of time in retail everyone has to do. What about you?”

“I spent the winter lifeguarding at a swimming pool,” Levi rubbed his flat stomach, “Lots of athletes.”

“Well, it’s certainly less… literate here than it is back home.” Paddy arched an eyebrow at Alexia’s words, “But less stressful.”

“And wha was it ye use tae do lass?”

“Oh, I used to be CEO of a social entrepreneurship start-up promoting destination air pockets.”

“Eh?” Was everyone’s joint reaction.

There was the sound of an engine outside, Alexia stood, finger combing her dreadlocks into place.

“Well it’s not like I would expect you lot to understand. You obviously don’t care much for the natural environment.” She swished out to the waiting car. Troy stuck his head out of the door.

“You realise our resident tree-hugging hippy just drove off in a Jaguar?”

“Hypocrite.” Nic laughed, “I suppose it takes all types. What the fuck is a ‘destination air pocket’? Anyone?”

After dinner, everyone who was left stayed for one drink. Ava was going home first thing, and so took herself off to bed, whereas Levi left almost immediately. Nic departed just as it got fully dark, which left Sean, Troy, Paddy and Noah sitting around the coffee table. Suddenly Paddy realised it was going to be really obvious if they got up and left together.

“Too bad one of you isn’t going home,” Sean yawned as he stretched out, “At least Noah and I get some privacy this weekend.”

“Well as there’s no one on the site,” Troy replied, “I might make a hammock and sleep in the trees.”

“Eh?” The red headed cook seemed doubly perplexed.

“I was raised pretty much outdoors. I haven’t spent a whole summer sleeping under a roof since I was about six.”

“That’s kinda cool,” Noah nodded, “We go on lots of camp outs in the summer, but we do usually take tents, even if not everyone uses ‘em.”

“I remember Nic saying something about you being a bush-craft expert. You gonna teach us how to survive in the wild?”

“Maybe. I could definitely teach you how to make your own bow though.”

Sean beamed.

“No shit? That’d be fucking ace man.”

“I’ll let you know when I find the right sort of tree. We’ll have ourselves a few nice days of wood carving at some point.”

Paddy yawned hugely.

“G’night lads. Daen’t wake me fer breakfast.” He brushed down his plaid and flexed his shoulders, “Seems like a good day tae hibernate.”

In cabin four Paddy pulled his jacobite shirt off by the collar at the back and divested himself of socks and unlaced boots. He stretched, eyeing up the big bed with another yawn.

“You really are tired eh?” Troy appeared behind him, shutting the door behind him, “I guess that means you don’t want to come for a run in the woods?”

“I’m nae tired.” Paddy straightened up quickly, “I’ll run.”

“You wanna go for a real run?” Troy arched an eyebrow at him, “Everyone’s either gone, sleeping, or getting drunk. Sean,” He clarified, “Has opened a bottle of gin. I don’t think we’ll be seeing much of him tomorrow.”

“Sounds promising.” Paddy grinned, “Lemme get changed quick.” Paddy unbuckled his kilt and exchanged it for the great kilt.

“What for?”

Paddy chuckled.

“It doubles as a’ excellent blanket.” Paddy slung the extra length over his shoulder. “Yer ready?”

The night was cool and clear, the sky studded with stars. Being closest to the woods, they simply slipped out along the line of the trees, going quickly past the first few trunks. The two men walked in companionable bare footed silence through the woodland. Paddy stood on a rock and winced sharply.

“Do you not go barefoot often?” Troy lifted one foot to show a sole made of so much callous it was practically leather.

“There’s liek a thousand flip flops scattered around the woods a’ Grandda’s house. I wasnae brought up it the wild liek yer were babe.”

Further in to the woods, the pines gave way to big leaved deciduous species, birch and oak and the odd willow, and patches of star lit sky appeared, the sliver of the moon casting patches of silver light and dark shade. Troy appeared dappled as he moved under the leaves, and for a moment, Paddy was sure he could see the lynx under the young man’s skin. Troy reached a big twisted looking oak and shucked off his combats and jumper. He leapt quickly up the trunk, climbing as though he already had paws equipped with retractable claws and hung his clothes over a high branch before leaping down to land softly on the balls of his feet.

“You coming babe?”

“Aye.” Paddy slipped out of his kilt, and simply tied the length in a loose double knot around his shoulders. Troy straightened and stepped closer, cupping his cheek in one hand and Paddy exhaled until he ran out of breath, and then he changed. Troy stroked the short fur of his muzzle gently.

“I forgot how beautiful you were.”

“Hruunt?” Paddy rubbed against his mate. Troy was naked in his skin, a strange and delightful texture against his fur. It felt illicit but deeply satisfying to walk deeper into the many leafed woodland with Troy beside him. Troy rubbed the fur behind his ears.

“That’s clever, with your kilt.” Troy fingered the thick cloth before rubbing his palm across the expanse of Paddy’s huge shoulders. “You think you can keep up?”

“Gnowrr.” Paddy nodded firmly.

Troy stooped and kissed the space above his eyes. His fingers under the spectacled bear’s muzzle lingered, almost ticklishly soft and for a long moment man and bear regarded each other in silence.

“If only I knew what you were thinking…” Troy mused softly, “Wouldn’t that make everything easier?”

Paddy snuffled and rubbed against his mate, his little dish ears tilted forwards and he pointed his muzzle towards the deeper woodland. Paddy wanted to chase the lynx through the trees ahead, but being here was so delightful, watching the man he though he loved, naked and completely unashamed in the forest. Paddy grinned at the idea which flashed through his mind. Oh yes…

Paddy lowered his head, pushed his muzzle into Troy’s naked crotch and knocked him backwards. Troy stumbled.

“Hey…” He reached up and locked his fingers in the thick fur of Paddy’s ruff, “What are you up to?”

Paddy rumbled in his chest, knowing the little lynx didn’t speak bear and wouldn’t have been able to understand him if he had tried to explain. Explaining through demonstration seemed to be a much better idea anyway. Paddy stood over the young man lying back on the leaves of the forest floor and huffed on his chest. Troy’s eyes widened.

“You want…? Really?” He sounded uncertain.

Paddy pressed his cold nose against Troy’s abdomen as his mate sighed. Troy in his head might not have been sure, but regardless of his mate shape, the Nordic man’s body knew exactly what it wanted. Paddy nuzzled his crotch and had the pleasure of hearing Troy’s natural speaking voice go up an octave.

“Oh fuck!”

He looked up to see Troy leaning up on his elbows, blue eyes wide, watching him with shock written all over his features. Paddy flicked an ear, and went back to nuzzling. It was the most intimate of things, to have his paws and his claws stroking the soft earth while he nosed his way around Troy’s cock and balls, pressing against his taint in a manner which made his mate mumble incomprehensibly in more than one language, all the while wearing his fur.

He trusts me. He must do. Paddy was a bear, he weighed probably three times as much as Troy did, and he had long sharp teeth and no intention whatsoever of ever hurting the man who lay beneath him in any way at all. When he lapped at Troy’s erection, he found his lovers fingers clutching at the back of his big head, holding him tight. Troy had obviously reached some limit or other, but Paddy could neither back off nor move any closer to the centre of Troy’s heat and desire.

“Hrooow?”

“There’ll be no running anywhere if you do that,” Troy panted, “But oh dear gods do I want you to do it.”

Paddy chuckled. It came out as a series of huffs and growls, and each hot breath made Troy’s cock twitch and bounce. Paddy pressed at him again, using the advantage of his superior weight and size to keep the unresisting man pinned beneath his furry body, breathing on his crotch, nuzzling him and licking along his length and the high tightness of his sac as Troy’s adulations deteriorated into moans and whines and desperate whimpers. Though he couldn’t hold Troy in his mouth, suck and lick at him as he otherwise might have done, when he licked around the sensitive exposed head of Troy’s throbbing member his lover whimpered again, gasping his name, and came in three long spurts over his belly and into Paddy’s fur. Without hesitation, Paddy lapped the hot saltiness from his partner’s skin.

“Oh…” Troy was staring wide eyed at the sky through the dappled leaves, one hand flung over his head, the other resting over his heart, “Oh…”

“Wrooarm.” Paddy agreed softly.

There was stillness, and then Troy the lynx rolled onto his paws and stretched, curving his back, his big ears twisting, claws digging into the soft ground. Paddy pushed his nose against Troy’s presented rump and the big cat yowled at him. Paddy chuckled and rubbed his head along the speckled back, delighting in the texture of Troy’s stiff guard hairs against the underside of his muzzle. The cat purred. Paddy huffed, Troy mewled and then sprang away and Paddy raced after him.

The lynx moved like a shadow, springing across the forest floor in rapid bursts, muscles stretching under his fur. Paddy chased his pale flashing rump, the creamy white hairs of his belly easily visible in the darkness. The spectacled bear’s paws thudded on the forest floor, scattering scared birds from their trees, sending silent prey into their holes to shiver with imagined fear. Paddy could tell where they were through scent, knew when they passed the thicket of trees where on that first day he’d brought them both off in the woods. When the shape of the lynx vanished in front of him, Paddy stopped so quickly his front paws when out from under him and he spun in a circle, roaring for his mate.

The snickering from above his head made him crane upwards, standing on his hind paws, braced against the tree trunk of the nearest silver birch. The leaves swayed with his weight.

Troy was in the tree, hanging onto a slender branch as easily as one might balance on a park bench, his blue eyes flashing. Paddy saw the shape of the game forming in his mind and gave chase again. The lynx was moving lower in the trees, coming down to lower limbs to run alongside him, and Paddy timed his leap right when Troy bounced from one tree to another across the makeshift path they were using and ended up landing on a metric ton of bear. Paddy didn’t slow down, didn’t stop, even when the claws dug into his thick fur and the muscles of his back, but kept his head down, running at a great lope into the forest.

The sound of a distant car made both of them prick up their ears, but its direction was unclear. Paddy felt troy tense on his back and then suddenly the trees parted and were no more and bear and lynx were skidding across a tarmacked road, Paddy’s two inch claws striking sparks from the hard surface. There was the rumble of a vehicle. Troy snarled, the lynx leapt from his shoulders and scrambled back into the cover of the forest. Paddy stood on his hind legs, saw the lights coming from around the corner and run for the trees.

Panting, both animals stood inside the boundaries of their forest, glaring out at the passing headlights. There was a second car about five minutes later. Troy shook his head and snarled.

I’m sorry, Paddy thought, directing the feeling along the line which connected them. He felt an echo back, a feeling with a different flavour from his own, hot and salty, angry, but not with him. He pushed love down the string and the lynx beside him visibly relaxed and rubbed against his leg. Oh Great Spirits… let us be safe and undiscovered. Please help protect us.

They walked together, touching constantly, back into the thickest part of the forest where the tree cover on all sides was dense. There were no obstacles out here, no fire sites, just uninterrupted forest through which they could wander unhindered. It was late, there was no one out and when Troy finally sat in a small grass space under the stars, Paddy came to sit right up against his back. The cat purred like rumbling thunder and Paddy found himself in his skin, gathering the big lynx into his lap, wrapping them both in the blanket of his breacan-an-feileadh. Troy’s fur was the softest texture, thick and smooth in his hands, and the cat vibrated against him, both of them looking up at the stars.

“Even tho’ we cannae see the Northern Lights from here, I ken they are thar.” He stroked the top of Troy’s head and the lynx flicked back his long tipped ears, “Ye dannae believe, I ken, but I do. All our ancestors are up thar babe. Their watching o’er us right noo.” Paddy fingered the cloth he’d wrapped them in and sighed. The tartan had been in his mother’s family for as long as anyone in the family could remember and while Paddy didn’t share their last name, it made him proud to know his cousins and his grandfather all wore this tartan, that the men of his family bear or not, had worn this pattern, this weave, this cloth. It was the tartan he’d been swaddled in as a baby, wrapped up in as a cub when he’d come back from his first change, shivering and shaking, confused and excited and overwhelmed. Now he had the man he loved, wearing fur, in his lap, snuggled against his chest, the both of them wrapped in the purple, blue and grey cloth of his heritage.

“I love you.”

Paddy wasn’t aware he’d spoken until he heard the words echoed back at him from the trees. The cat turned, paw pads placed against his naked chest. The lynx’s big webbed feet were big as his own hands, covering his pecs. Troy pressed his cold triangular nose into the space between his paws, against Paddy’s warm tan skin.

“I mean it Troy. I love ye.” Paddy stroked the shell-like ears with his finger tips and when Troy lapped at him with his rough sandpapery tongue he shivered in surprise. “Aye pet, I’ll take tha as yer feeling the same aye?”

Troy purred against him.

“Oh aye,” The big Scot smiled, “I suppose you want tae sleep out ‘ere under the stars an all.”

The lynx melted in his arms and troy kissed him gently.

“Just for a bit. I know how much you like that damn bed.

“Thanks.”

“I love you too y’know.”

So for an hour or more, there lay wrapped in the bed tartan and stared up at the sky, touching, kissing and not needing to talk about anything else at all.

*

Paddy opened one eye and saw Troy standing, dressed in nothing but a pair of thin cargo shorts in the open cabin doorway. He was leaning against the door jamb looking drop dead sexy, with his hair in a mess. Paddy rumbled deep in his chest and flung out an arm over the still-warm mats towards his mate.

“Aye pet, it’s early, come back tae bed liek.”

“It’s raining.” Troy replied.

“Even better babe,” Paddy curled on his side, drawing the covers higher over himself. It was raining too, a thick impenetrable sheet of water falling from the sky, obliterating the view of the outside. One step out in it and they would both be soaked as if they’d fallen into the lake. Troy turned to look at him over his shoulder, smiling wickedly.

“It’s raining, you know what that means?” Paddy felt a tug at his heart, at the string which connected them. Troy’s grin widened further, “It’s training cats and dogs, it’s the weekend, and pretty much everyone’s gone home.”

“They’ll be nae one in tha woods.” Paddy realised.

“Nope, just the two of us babe, and we can do whatever we like.”

Paddy had never gotten up so fast. As Troy laced his boots, Paddy pulled on one of his pairs of light weight linen shorts and grabbed his own boots, the less nice of the two pairs. Today was not a day for socks or underwear that was for sure.

“You ready?” Troy bounced in the balls of his feet, looking every inch a hyped up teenager, even though he hadn’t been one for many years. Paddy resisted the urge to sit him back down and brush his hair until it shone, there would be time for that later, after the rain had made them ruin their clothes.

“Aye, let’s go.”

It was pouring, and Paddy’s assumption had been correct of how wet they would get. They didn’t care, but ran right across the field, through the field on the other side of the road, leaping the guy ropes of the closed up tents and shouting incomprehensibly into the rain. It was loud, each drop struck like a soft stone as they ran, whooping, shouting, racing each other to the path in the trees. The paths were not fully undercover of the trees, and in places the leaves and branches of the pines and other plants made rivulets of water run down into the path in steady thick streams. Paddy pushed through one of these, water pouring off his hair, and found Troy running away from him across the path, sheets of chalky, sand stone coloured water spraying from his boots. He chased, caught up, elbowed his mate as he ran, making Troy slip and regain his footing quickly as they sprang along. The path opened up into more fields, the rain beating a tattoo like a war drum onto the roofs of big marquees. Troy shouted to him, dashing in between trees, reappearing on the path that lead towards the tree top course. Paddy followed him.

With not a harness or safety rope in site they scrambled up the staples set into the big oak and chased each other across the plank bridge, the rope bridge, the hanging upright logs where they scrambled for grip in the torrential rain, lost their footing, shouted and laughed. Troy slipped, and hung onto the underside of the log, swinging across to the next section as Paddy scrambled over the course. Troy clambered up him, the two of them stuck together by the rain that poured off their skin, panting into the smallest space where their lips did not quite meet.

“Thought yer were a goner thar.” Paddy whispered, his words nearly drowned out by the downpour.

Troy dug his short sharp fingernails into the muscle above his chest.

“And let you get away? Never.” They were standing on the two foot square wooden landing attached to the tree at the middle of the course, twenty feet above the forest floor in the pouring rain. Troy grinned and licked his lips. “How’s your balance Patrick?” He stroked the obvious shape of Paddy’s semi hard cock through his wet shorts and the bear growled low, “How about now?”

“Troy.”

The lynx smiled smugly.

“Race you to the assault course.”

Paddy stepped forwards, chest to chest with his mate.

“An’ if I win?”

Troy bit his lower lip in the world’s most tempting manner.

“Maybe it’s time I practiced my blow job skills?”

Paddy kissed him, both of them fighting for the upper hand, a kiss that was all teeth and tongues and grunting. Troy broke the contact and pelted across the next part of the course. When he turned, Paddy was gone.

The big Scot scrambled straight down the trunk of the tree, dropped the last six feet to the ground and took off running. In a big family full of big testosterone filled guys, races, fights and challenges were common. And because he was shortest, Paddy had always felt like he had a lot to prove. He was quick. Rain or no rain, he pounded along the path, knowing as well as feeling Troy was hot on his heels, pushing at their connection, trying to throw paddy off balance. But this was a prize worth fighting for, and when Paddy was in site of the assault course he slowed enough to allow Troy to think he’d won.

The lynx leapt over the first log, rolled in the dirt which was now mud under the next low one and started up the web of ropes. Paddy followed him. Under and over, he climbed like he was born for it, scrambled past Troy and leapt across the rope bridge in one go. Troy stopped on the other bank and stared at him.

“Holy fuck”

“Yer bet. C’mon pretty lad.”

Troy snarled, jumped, scrambled up the far bank and dashed past him to the climbing wall. Paddy grabbed the back of his shorts and hauled him down.

“Oh.”

“Aye.”

Troy kissed him, hot and hard, and Paddy took his time exploring his mate’s mouth with his tongue. Troy tasted like salt, sweat and rain, delicious and brilliant. It was feral, and Paddy snarled into his lips, cradling the back of Troy’s head in his big hands. Troy was hard against him, both of them heaving for air. Troy pushed at his shoulder, and Paddy took one step back and found himself spun around to be pressed against the rough wooden wall with its grippy hand holds. He grunted.

“No touching.” Troy said quickly, “Just, let me do this OK?”

“Aye.” Paddy could barely form a coherent thought as Troy opened his shorts, his cock sprung out into the rain and slapped against his soaked abs.

“Fuck.” Troy was sinking to his knees, the most fantastic image in Paddy’s head. He hissed the air in through his teeth as Troy wrapped his hand around his length, moving slow, being careful. “What do I do?”

“Think aboot what ye liek on yerself,” Paddy gripped the wall to stop himself from reaching for Troy’s skull, “Just go slow.” His pulse was racing as Troy touched him, leaning closer, watching the effect he had on his mate. He seemed fascinated. Then he leant forwards and touched the tip of his tongue to the head of paddy’s cock.

“Ugnhh!”

“Sorry.” Troy backed off quickly.

“Fucking hell lad, do that again.”

“Oh,” Troy’s expression changed, confidence suddenly leaking in, making him grin, “Oh.”

He kissed the tip of Paddy’s throbbing erection, and wrapped his lips around the shaft and Paddy could barely think through the heat and pressure of the pleasure. He snarled, snapped, growled, and made noises he never normally allowed himself to make for fear of sounding too feral. But the rain hammered down onto his face and upturned mouth, beat off Troy’s shoulders as he learnt the shape and size and texture of Paddy’s cock and none of it mattered because every time one of them growled in pleasure, another thread was thrown into the line that connected them building a stronger bond, forging the string as though it were hot metal under the hammer of the gods. Paddy clenched his fingers, felt the screws in the hand hold groaning under the onslaught from his grip.

Troy was no longer hesitant, but dove right in, taking as much of Paddy as he could into his mouth, using his tongue on the underside of his cock and swirling around the sensitive tip as he purred in pleasure. It was the purr which drove Paddy over the edge, the undulating unending vibration of his lover’s throat, fingers gripping his hips, clamping him still until he could barely see, until the world was full of white and heat and he came with a growl which shook the roosting birds from their trees.

“Will that do?” Troy grinned, wiping his mouth and standing up. Paddy wrapped him instantly in both arms.

“Aye…” His chest heaved with the effort of speaking. “I liek the rain.”

Troy kissed him.

“Fancy going for a swim in the lake?”

The sky rumbled with thunder, and Paddy kissed his mate, tasting himself mixing with the fresh glacial flavour of Troy. Weekends were good.