AN: Sorry that I've been away. Chapter 11 of Born Wolf is being frustrating. I will not abandon you all, Kurt would kill me if I did. To tide you over, and yes, Born Wolf will be a real book really soon, here is a little one shot that I accidentally wrote while I was supposed to be 'relaxing' from writing.
As always, you get it as it comes, no editing. This story will appear at some point in an anthology. It'll get edited then. Promise.
All characters are consensual and over 18. Also, don't pet wild bears, unfortunately real life is not fiction ... Sasha Distan xx
I stuck my hands into my pockets and scuffed at the ground with my new hiking boots. My brother had basically ordered me to break them in after he'd taken me to buy them yesterday, after my favourite pair of all-stars had disintegrated. So now here I was on the other side of the Athabasca river from my 'new home' in the wilderness, scuffing my new boots as I broke them in.
So, a bit about me. I am Hoyt Ford, I'm nineteen and I used to live the centre of Toronto. My parents died three months ago in a mass motorway collision: I miss them. It sounds obvious, but I think it bears repeating: I miss my parents, they were good people, they loved me and my brother, they raised us well. Too well I suppose because now, instead of being back in Toronto in some crappy apartment with my job in a bookstore and my friends who make my life bearable, I am just outside of Jasper, Alberta. My older brother Harry got married to the girl whose parents own the Alpine Lodge cabins on the river, and that's where I have ended up. I live and work on the site, just like everybody else. My life is very different now.
And I'll bet with a name like Hoyt and new hiking boots you'll figure I'm some kind of big, broad shouldered jock, but no, that's my brother. Harry is the clean cut jock with the megawatt smile that everyone loves. He's also eight years older than me. I am the little nerdy one. I'm not even hot-nerdy, I don't have muscle tone, I'm not all hard and skinny under my clothes, I don't have great skin and a cute face. I'm boring looking; I have blond hair and washed-out sort of water colour blue eyes, I'm sort of pale, I have knobbly knees and practically no body hair for some unexplained reason. I'm not into sports and I'm not a gym bunny, so I'm all skin and bone and soft. I'm skinny and apparently pathetic. And I like guys who are like me, but with better hair. I hate my hair: it won't be straight, it isn't actually curly, and it's not thick enough to make one of those cool over the eye fringes which the guys I fancy seem to be born with.
But Harry was sick of me moping around the campsite, bringing the mood down. It's spring, the sky is blue, the river is icy cold as it always is and I do know how to be outside. He's lived out here for years and I've been on trips to visit, it's not like I don't like nature. The best thing about having a much older brother was going on massive adventure hikes and explorations when we we're younger. Harry is bust with repairs on site, and he sent me out to break in my new hiking boots so that I won't get blisters later.
Having crossed the river by Alpine Lodge there is a bit of flat stony beech and a couple of paths leading into the forest. Last time I went for a walk, before my all-stars broke, I took the path on the far left, and I do not want to do that again. Up the far left path is a house, it looks a bit like one of our cabins, but bigger, rustic and well-built and beautiful. But the guy who lives there creeps me out. The first time I met him was not exactly my finest moment. I was peering through the windows of the big cabin, trying to see if anyone was there, when this shadow and this deep gravelly voice came up beside me.
"What'cha doin' thar boy?"
I damn near jumped out of my skin. The man was huge, like well over six feet tall, more like six-six or six-seven. Have you ever seen pictures of those old style lumberjacks? Well he looked like that, huge and broad and hairy and totally not my type at all. He wore tight worn blue jeans and a checked shirt and a big grin. I think I managed to squeak out an answer, but I can't remember what I said.
"You must be Ford's brother." His voice was just as deep an rough, and somehow the words were like a cheese grater on my spine and made me want to melt, tingles running up and down my body. I blamed my clothing, which was not very modest, t-shirt and jean-shorts. He checked me up and down. "I'm Todd Maxen, you are?"
"H-Hoyt." Damn, I hated it when I stuttered. It only happened when I was nervous, or being distracted by my inexplicably hardening cock. The hell was wrong with me? I made some lame excuse and hoped he hadn't clocked my hard on. He just grinned.
"See you around Hoyt." And I could feel him staring after me as I practically ran from the clearing and back to the river.
Now I took the path which wound up and along the river bank to the right, going away from the direction of the town, the rough gravel path worn hard by the feet of tourists. It was a good day to be wandering around the low foothills in this part of the Rockies, the sun was out, it was warm and I hated to admit it but at least my new boots didn't kill my soles in quite the way the all-stars had. It made good time up the path, listening to birds and being distracted by the world around me. I'd been up this way before, and there were a couple of inuksuk built along the edges of the path. The little stone markers pointed off into the woodland, marking animal tracks I suppose. They didn't seem to point in any logical directions. I'd been walking for about half an hour when I heard the noise.
There's all sorts of wildlife up the in forests around the Athabasca, wolves, bears, foxes, small stuff and big stuff, elk and deer and such like. Like everybody else I had gone through training of what to do if you come across a bear or a wolf. Attacks are really rare, most animals are more scared of humans, but being careful is a good thing. I turned around really, really slowly.
Standing at the edge of the path, just by one of the bigger trees was a bear. He was standing on his back legs, and taller than me. It was a black bear from the size, taller than me but not bigger than a really big man, but its fur was sort of charcoal grey and shiny. It was looking right at me. I gulped. Black bears are not usually dangerous, they're shy normally, so the first thing I did was take a step forwards, wave my arms and shout. The bear took a step forwards too. In the sun he blinked and stared at me with big golden brown eyes. He had light cinnamon patches either side of his muzzle. His tongue was really pink. Running from a bear isn't advisable. Official advice is to lay, face down on the ground and spread your legs so that they can't flip you. And then you pray they get bored and wander off. Calling for help was out, so I dropped to my knees, kept one eye on the bear and carefully lay flat in the middle of the path.
So there I was, lying on the path, listening to the bear, hoping to hear him lumber off into the forest. There was sniffing, the presence of heat and warmth, the musty scent of fur. The bear was sniffing me. I opened one eye and saw his huge feet pacing on the path, big curved grey claws the size of my little finger. I gulped. The bear moved around me, sniffing and snuffling, and when I felt his cold nose on my bare thigh I flinched.
Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh god ... I'm gonna die...
The bear pressed his muzzle against my taint and the heat short wired to my cock and made me instantly hard. I stopped thinking and just flipped over and scrambled backwards. On all fours the bear looked directly at me, his huge wedge shaped head level with my own. You're not supposed to make eye contact with a bear. He huffed and sat back on his haunches, watching me. I watched him back.
For a long moment we both just sat there, staring at each other, and then the black bear gave a big huff, got up and walked off into the woods of the other side of the path. I watched him go. There was a little grey stone inuksuk on the edge of the path, and its pointing arm followed the bear. I lifted a hand to my face just as tears started to flow. All the way home, I ran.
That night I lay in bed in my cabin. I'd gotten my own when I'd moved. It wasn't a luxury model, just a one room single storey set in the more wooded section of the campsite not far from the house my brother lived in. I had to go outside to use the bathroom, though the two building were attached, out of my back door and round the side of the cabin. It was private though, and that was nice. I stared at the ceiling of the cabin and thought about the bear. He had not acted how normal bears act, and that sniffing at the crotch thing ... I squirmed in shame at how my body had reacted.
I splayed a hand on the soft doughy flesh of my flat stomach and growled to myself. Fine then. I was alone, I had my imagination, and if my conscious was going to behave like that I wouldn't bring it along for the ride. I didn't have a wealth of sexual experiences to go on, a couple of quick and fumbled hand jobs, two blowjobs given, one received and the night I regretted deeply. I'd so not wanted to finish college as a virgin, so I hadn't. My imagination was way better anyway. I wrapped my hand around my cock, which like the rest of me, wasn't brilliantly impressive, five inches and a bit non-descript, and began to jerk off. What did I want? I scrolled through my set list of remember porn, half remember actions and imagined fantasies fuelled by the internet. Some hot rocker, skinny pretty boy with a guitar and great hair. Bright eyes gesturing me forwards, making my name sound sexy instead of sounding like I grew up in a hick town in the middle of nowhere.
Focus Hoyt... I gritted my teeth as I increased my pace, imaginary kisses setting my skin on fire, feeling the brush of soft and talented lips working their way down my torso. I tweaked a nipple, they're really sensitive, and whimpered to myself, wanting so much to be with somebody else and whimpering under him instead. I stroked rapidly, in my head watching this pretty boy going up and down on my cock, his lips really pink around my shaft. I twisted my hand, smearing precum over the head and down my length, wanting the warm and suction of a mouth. I hadn't even been flirted with in a long time. I was so close as I pumped my shaft, I could feel my orgasm building, I wanted it so much. I looked down and felt my imagination twist.
Bear brown eyes looked up at me from inside my head and I came suddenly, violently and all over myself, the sheets and my torso. I panted in the dark, covered in my own thick sticky cum, sort of staring at myself in horror. I had not just imagined that ... dear god... those hadn't been the eyes of some guy, they hadn't been human at all. Why had that bear showed up in my head right then? Feeling shamed and disorientated I got up and stumbled from my cabin to my bathroom. I needed a shower.
Hot and quick I towelled off and decided to nip naked back to the cabin having thrown my dirty boxer's in the hamper. I didn't see anyone, but I felt sure that something was watching.
I decided not to think it too hard.
When I hadn't been off site for nearly four days Harry basically kicked me down to the river. He's all outdoorsy and into nature. And it was quiet on site. There was nothing much for me to do, it was still a bit early in the year for proper tourist season. When summer hit, I knew that I would be up to my neck in jobs to do. As it is, the sale from my parents old house has been split and put into an account. Harry can draw my allowance from this, but I can't touch it until I'm twenty one. He got his half straight away. There's enough money in there that I don't have to worry too much. I pay no rent and no board. Whenever I do any work for the campsite Gail, his wife, gets me to write it into the big dairy in the main office. End of the week I get a brown envelope just like every other member of staff at Alpine Lodge.
I almost didn't cross the river. But then I scoffed at myself for being scared on my imagination and a bear whose territory was so big he probably didn't pass through here more than once a year. It was silly. I was halfway across the river when I noticed someone on the opposite bank. It was Todd Maxen, the big tree surgeon who lived in the woods. It had turned out after our first meeting, that my brother actually knew the guy, who was a year older than him at twenty eight. He sure didn't look twenty eight: he looked like he would win a fight with a buffalo. He was building an inuksuk on the beach. People did, the tourists liked to make them and take photos, but Todd was building it like he cared. I watched him as I crossed the river. It was only a little one, perhaps half a foot tall, but he considered every stone like he was building a work of art. It felt rude to interrupt him.
As I reached the beach he finished his marker and looked up. His smile was as huge as the rest of him and it gave me the creeps. And why is that? My inner voice mocked. I shut it up before anything bad could happen. I was suddenly pleased that it was a little colder today and I was wearing knee length combats and a thin long sleeved sweater. He raised a hand to me.
"Hey Hoyt," the way he said my name made me feel like a child, "Where're ya off ta today?"
"Just walking," I didn't stutter, thank god, "New boots."
"Nice," He stood smoothly as he checked me up and down. I shivered as I felt his eyes linger on my crotch, "We'll have fun." He looked like maybe he was about to say something else, but he didn't. I nodded tightly and picked a different path, a steeper one that wound through the forest.
And what did you want him to say? My inner voice was jerking me around, teasing and taunting, I thought you only liked pretty skinny scene boys?
And even though I didn't like to, I began to jog, hoping to get away from my own skull.
It took me all of ten minutes to reach the point where I was sweating and out of breath. The path was quite steep, and it was strangely hot now I was away from the chill breeze that came off the river. After five minutes of walking and panting like a dog I flopped down at the side of the path in the shade. I lay back in the short new grass and sighed to the sky. Sometimes my inner voice sucked. I closed my eyes.
I opened them again to the sound of snuffling. I must have fallen asleep, if only for a little while, because there was no way the bear could have moved silently through the forest. I yelped and backed away. The bear, a black bear, grey fur, followed my movements, sniffing. His face had been between my legs. Fuck. I dared looked down to find my cock tenting the front of my combat shorts. Shit. I looked at the bear.
He was sitting down now, head slightly tilted like a puppy asking a question with its eyes. Cinnamon brown patches. It was the same bear? Very carefully, I drew my legs in until I was sitting cross legged. Somehow I didn't think standing up was going to be such a hot idea right now.
"Okay ... I'm in a forest sitting with a bear..." the bear shuffled forwards, then walked a paw out towards me. I backed away, "With a really friendly bear. Right ... great. What the fuck do I do now?"
The bear snorted and shook its head.
"Oh you think I'm funny do you?" I snapped, then clamped a hand over my mouth. I'd just bitched at a bear. I was so dead. To my huge surprise the massive paw the bear he walked across to me touched at my new hiking boots. I stared. The claws were huge and sharp and I had no doubt that this bear could rip me from pubic bone to throat if he wanted to. But apparently he didn't.
"New boots," I said, thinking it stupid to talk to a bear, "I er ... fell asleep."
The bear turned its head the other way and looked at me, then stood on all fours. If you've ever been in the presence of a bear you will know how huge they are, and even on all fours this bear seemed to block out the sun. He walked forwards. I shrank back, pressing my spine into the grass as the huge paws landed either side of my skinny shoulders. I was quivering, and I could feel myself going nuts in the back of my head. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck! The grey-black bear was sniffing up my torso, his nose pressing against the fabric of my jumper. Oh god no! I was about to become bear food as I could feel my penis going rigid in my shorts. I was going to die of bear or embarrassment and I wasn't sure which was going to happen first. I felt my face flush bright red as the bear reached it.
I stared up into those big golden brown eyes and I couldn't hold it together anymore. Fear and shame wound me up too tight and I was sobbing, crying with tears streaming down my face as the bear stood over me, sniffing at my neck, his cold nose poking my ear lobe. Then he licked me. His tongue wasn't rough and wet and slobbery like I thought it would be, but smooth and soft and surprisingly dry for a tongue. He lapped at my cheeks and I was so shocked that I stopped crying with a little hiccup. The bear stopped licking too, and his nose touched my nose as he just stood there over me, staring.
Then his big head turned round and I saw his little round ears flip backwards. I heard the noise, chatting and talking and the tinkling of bells which hikers attached to their walking sticks to scare off bears and warn them they were coming. For a moment I honestly thought I was going to die. The bear turned his huge head back to me and there was something in his eyes which on a human would have looked like disappointment. And then he was gone, lolloping off into the woods.
Three hikers came around the bend in the path, chatting and laughing and I wished I hadn't looked so obviously distressed or so obviously turned on. God knows what they thoughts of me as I sprang up and began to run back towards the river. When I got to the beach on the bank I was almost hoping to see Todd, to pray that the whole thing had been a dream. He wasn't there of course, but his little inuksuk was. I peered at it. The pointing arm was directed up the hill, pretty much exactly in the direction I had run from. That was weird.
"What's eating you little brother?"
I jerked my head up as Harry came by, ruffling my hair, something I have always hated. He plopped down in the seat opposite me on the decking outside the main office and put his feet up on the low railing, crossing his boots at the ankle.
"How was your walk?"
"Crap." I realised just after I'd spoken that I would have to expand on that answer. Harry jabbed me in the ribs when I didn't follow up straight away, "Harry? There are no, like, tame bears around here are there?"
"Tame bears?" my brother looked at me as though I had heat stroke, "Why would you ask such a weird question? You meet a bear?"
For half a second I considered the truth. Like he would believe me.
"No." I got up. Sulking wasn't so much fun when someone was questioning why you were doing it, "Can I go into town?"
"Sure," Harry handed me the keys to his red pick-up. "But go and grab the grocery list from Gail at the house before you go alright. Back by seven."
"Yes boss." I scowled, but took the keys. You don't look a gift horse in the mouth. I wanted to say 'you're worse than mum' but I didn't. Harry would have not taken it in the glib way I would have meant it.
Gail was in the kitchen of her and Harry's mega cabin when I arrived. Gail is exactly the kind of girl my brother would end up marrying. She loves the outdoors and nature and everything, but she's practical and loves extreme sports too. Gail is blond and curvy and way too beautiful to spend all her days hanging out in safari shorts and Alpine Lodge polo shirts with her hair in a ponytail. When she and Harry go out for their weekly date night she turns everyone's heads. And I'm gay saying that.
"Hey there Hoyt. What's up?"
"I'm going into town. Harry said I should get groceries?"
Gail handed me a list and grinned.
"You need any cash?"
"Nah, I got it."
"See you later kiddo."
I waved goodbye on exiting the cabin and read through the list in my hand as I got into the pick-up. I hated not having my own vehicle, though there were plenty on the fleet insurance that I could use. I hated having to ask permission to go off site. I didn't really, but it felt rude. After nearly three whole months, I was still having a hard time thinking of Alpine Lodge as home.
The town of Jasper was a fifteen minute drive away if you did the speed limit. I parked up in the on street parking on the main drag and shut the door of the pick-up with a bang to startle the pigeons. I hadn't really come to town for anything as such, so I just wandered around for a little bit. Jasper is a popular tourist spot on the route from Calgary across to the coast so we have a lot of those interesting but odd little tourist shops. I didn't need anything like that, so I stuck my hand sin my pockets and wandered along the strip and round the back. Spending all my time on the site, I don't have many friends in town, but there was one of the part timers who also worked in a clothing store just off the main drag. I nipped into the shop and grinned across the counter at Jack.
Jack is like my perfect dream guy. He is taller than me, but only by a little bit, skinny with good shoulders and fantastic hair and a cute as hell smile. And he's in a band too boot. He's also a massive flirt, with everyone, and proper slut, but only with girls. This makes him fun to talk to but disappointingly off limits, not that I fancy being a bead in anyone's string of conquests. But it would be nice to get kissed every now and then. Today he is wearing skinny jeans and an Engrish printed t-shirt which I can't even read properly. His eyes sparkle, brilliant green, and I want to just dive into them.
"Hey there pretty boy," it's worse that he doesn't mean anything by it, because the words are all warm and treacherous, like the sun in winter, "What's up dude?"
"Not much." I can't help but check Jack out as he comes around the counter. He's got a fantastic little butt. The top edge of his boxers is on show, again. "I thought I might splash out you know."
"Cool man," a little gaggle of girls has just come in behind me and Jack is quickly distracted. "Shout if you need me."
I nod glumly and wander off into the store. I don't really need any more clothes, I half live in Alpine Lodge polo's and there's only so many pairs of jeans and shorts a guy can need. It's not like I go out anywhere, or have anyone to go out with. I do end up with a new t-shirt, black with big acid yellow moths printed over it randomly, before I head to AG foods for the groceries. I get Gail's list out of my pocket as I push the cart into the store and began mentally checking things off. Milk, bread (the nice one), green vegetables x 3, toothpaste ... I'm in the cosmetics and shower gel aisle, I abandoned the trolley at the end of the lane, staring between the list and the shelf to try and find the shampoo brand that my brother apparently has to have when I walked smack into someone.
I apologise and start backing off when a big hand closes around my skinny flaccid bicep.
"Hold up there Boy. You're alright."
I look up to see Todd Maxen staring down at me with toffee coloured eyes. Something possessive in the way he called me 'Boy' has caused my dick to stir in my shorts. I gape at him, staring. Todd is dressed as per, meaning work boots, tight blue jeans and a flannel shirt over a wife beater. His thick chest hair spills over the top of the wife beater which is stretched over what I just felt is a rock hard torso. He is hard and hairy all over apparently, because he doesn't look like he's shaved in a few days at least, messy stubble making him exude a scent which is all man. He is so not my type, which doesn't mean that I'm not now blushing like a school girl. God, this is torture. His eyes flick up and down me and I can barely breath, I'm standing really close to him and I swear that I can feel the heat of him through my clothes.
"Here you go." He whispers, chills running down my spine, and presses something long and hard into my palm. It's shampoo bottle. Oh... "See you Hoyt." As he steps away I know he is looking at me, and I force myself to keep my eyes on the list, not seeing anything at all. The fuck did you think was going to happen? My inner voice scoffed, You bet his cock matches the rest of his hard, huge and hairy self?
I shake myself down, do a little mental reboot, and dump the shampoo into the trolley. I don't care what brand I use, so I grab something non-branded and boring. All through the rest of my time in the shop, I keep waiting to see Todd in the aisle, but I never do, he's vanished. I'm served by a woman on the checkout who I know well enough to chat to banally about the weather, then head back to the pick-up. Apparently nowhere is safe from Todd the creep. Sexy as hell even though he repulses me, but definitely still a creep.
"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that..." I mutter as I start the engine, only belatedly realising that I'm talking to myself again.
Well, I sigh, Better than talking to a bear.
The following afternoon I went for another walk, ostensibly to continue breaking in my new boots, though they were already moulding nicely to the shape of my feet. I didn't see Todd, which was good. The previous evening I hadn't been able to shake off the feeling of being watched when I was in the cabin alone after dinner with Harry and Gail, and I had even gone and drawn the curtains even though I normally never did until I actually went to bed. I hadn't even jerked off. I mean, I'd started, but then images in my head had warped into ... things that I wasn't comfortable with, so I'd stopped even though I was really horny. And all that had led to was waking up to find that I'd soiled the sheets for the first time since I was like fourteen. Having wet dreams I couldn't remember because I was too scared of my own imagination to jerk off? Oh yeah, I was the picture of balanced mental health.
I crossed the river and headed into the woods, not really caring where I walked and ended up going further than I thought I would. I was tired when I stopped, but ten yards ahead I saw another of the little stone inuksuk's, pointing off into the woods. There was the suggestion of a path, it was hot, the sun was warm, and the path under the green trees looked inviting. So, ignoring all the advice that you should never leave a marked trail, I wandered into the woods.
I walked for maybe ten minutes through the under growth before the path vanished, then opened out into a little natural clearing, maybe only four metres across. Just big enough to hold bear. The bear wasn't looking at me and I started to back away. There was the gunshot sound of a snapping twig and bear turned to look at me. It didn't growl, and it took me a moment to recognise the brown patches and the wide friendly eyes of 'my' bear. That's a stupid thing to call him, even in your own head, I thought madly, He's gonna eat you one of these days.
'My' bear paced over to where I was standing and sat back on his haunches. He was a lot taller than me, because I'm only like five feet eight and a bit pathetic in the height department. He made a noise that sounded like a small 'whuff' and titled his head. Little dish ears turned towards me.
"Hi to you too," I smiled at the bear, which was a bit thick, and half raised a hand before I had thought about not waving. To my surprise, the bear raised a paw at me, copying my gesture. I took the smallest of steps forwards, again, being thick. My actions deserved to get my killed but I found myself face to face with this bear with the lustrous looking fur, and he began to sniff me all over my head and shoulders. When he bent his big neck and sniffed lower down I took a step back.
"Don't do that!"
The bear tilted his head and I had the overwhelming feeling that he was asking me a question.
"Rude." I knew I was pouting, which was pathetic and silly, "You can't keep sniffing me."
The bear grunted, then took another step forwards, on all four feet now and before I could react had put his big head against my chest and knocked me flat on my back.
"Hey!" The bear licked my face again with his smooth dry tongue and the sensation short-cut straight to my cock. Whenever I'm hard I leak, and the bear obviously smelt that too because he put his big muzzle right on my crotch and inhaled deeply. I flushed bright red. "No, don't..." I protested as if the bear could understand me and whimpered. The bear with the brown muzzle looked up at me. He looked, sad somehow.
After that he left my crotch alone and moved to stand alongside me, then he lay down. The bear was like a mountain next to my skinny frame, and he turned his thick head to look at me. I dared to lean up on one elbow.
"Why do I keep running into you huh?"
I swear that the bear shrugged when I spoke.
"And why am I not dead like ten times already?"
In the sun the bear looked lovely, better than any glossy photo magazine, and I could see that his fur wasn't all grey like I had originally thought. There was grey, and proper inky black, and little whirls of the same cinnamon fur that covered his muzzle. A black stripe an inch wide divided the two patches on his muzzle, it made him very distinctive. He looked so soft, so shiny, and I desperately wanted to reach out and touch his fur. His ears were turned towards me, he lay with his head on his paws, watching me look at him. I reached out a hand, moving at a glacial pace. There was a good chance I was going to lose that hand.
I bit my lip, and then the bear pushed his head into my palm. He vibrated against me, his fur was like silk, and thick like piled velvet. I rubbed my hand over the top of his head and through the thick fur of his neck. Here the soft under layer was peppered with thicker guard hairs that tickled the thin skin inside my wrist. I wanted to snuggle up in that fur and fall asleep forever. It took me a long time to realise that the bear was purring under my hand.
"You like that huh?" the little round ears swivelled to find my voice as I stroked the bear's fur, cupping my fingers around the shells of his ears and then running my digits through the thicker fur lower down, "You're so soft."
Hoyt, you are talking to a bear. A bear. Why are you not running for the hills?
The bear sighed and raised a big paw. His front feet were so much bigger than my hand. I was suddenly scared again as he shifted his weight and brought the paw over me. This was it, death was coming. But instead of pain there was just the warm and heavy sensation of the bear's huge paw on my skinny chest, resting there, touching me back.
I always pick the weirdest moments to be happy.
I feel asleep in the forest with the bear. When I woke up, he was gone and the sun had moved a handbreadth in the sky, it was late in the afternoon, practically evening, and people would be wondering where I was. I raised my hand to my face and sniffed. I smelt like him, the thick musky scent of his fur clinging to my hand. I was also rock bloody hard, still, and I could feel that my precum had basically soaked my boxers.
I was alone, there were no sounds but the soft rustling of the trees, the natural not silence of things growing. What the hell. I unzipped by combats and reached my other hand into my ruined underwear. I tugged quickly on my dick, I didn't need a fantasy, my orgasm was already there waiting on the edge of sensation. I thumbed the slit twice, inhaling the scent of the bear on my other hand and came. My orgasm burst in three quick shots which I was cognisant enough to aim for the grass rather than myself. I groaned into the empty clearing. Panting I wiped my hand on the grass then pulled off my shorts and boxers before just slipping my shorts back on. Hopefully no one would notice my going commando.
I wasn't so sure what to do with the ruined boxer shorts, so I folded them up, even though they felt squishy and unpleasant, and after several long minutes ended up sort-of burying them under a biggish rock. No one could see them, that was the main thing. I jogging down the hill back towards the river and stared when I got there. The sun was setting, a glowing line of hot red fire staining the river and turning half the sky purest gold. The water reflected the sky, the icy Athabasca somehow coloured like a warm summer's day. Alpine Lodge looking amazing, all the green's touched with gold and for that richness, I could finally see why people stayed here. I splashed over the river and then hurried across the opposite bank to my home and my remaining family.
"Where've you been?" Harry was pacing up and down outside my cabin, looking pissed but well dressed in clean un-faded jeans and a black button down shirt, "We nearly left without you."
"What's going on?" I panted. I was still so not used to running, especially when my knees were still weak from jerking off.
"Movie night. Last time you said you wanted to come with."
For a moment I almost told him to go ahead without me, but I had the feeling that now he'd waited he would be completely pissed off if I said he shouldn't have bothered.
"'Kay," I replied quickly, "Gimmie two minutes to get changed and I'll meet you by the truck." Which was shit because I didn't even have time for a shower. I wiped myself down with a damp washcloth and pulled on a pair of nicely fitted cowboy jeans and my new black t-shirt with the moths. I had a black denim jacket, it wasn't too cold out, and it wasn't until I jumped into the back seat of the pick-up that I realised I had forgotten to put on any underwear. Fun times.
You want to talk about what you did in the forest? My inner brain asked me as we started the drive into town.
No. I wasn't sure why I was answering. I was talking to myself again.
Or what you were imagining? I looked down at my left hand, the one which had stroked the bear. I so should be dead, not sitting in the back of my brother's pic-up thinking about that fact that I had jerked of in the woods while inhaling the scent of 'my' bear. I couldn't keep calling him that.
You shouldn't be calling him anything you basket case. It's a bear not a puppy.
"Do you know what the First Nations people call bears?" it seemed like as good a place to start as any. After all, it's not like I could call him Fido or Rover.
"Well the Haida word for bear is Táan. But the Blackfoot name is Mato. Every language has a different word. Why?"
"Oh just curious." We got out of the truck in front of the little cinema. Mato ... I turned the word over in my head. It sounded friendly and good. Mato.
"He's obsessed with bears these days aren't you little brother?" Harry ruffled my hair as he walked by. Jerk, just because he's like six feet tall and older than me, "Oh hey Todd! You seeing the movie too?"
I groaned to see my brother and his wide exchange smiles and half hugs with the big man. Turned out that Todd was seeing the same film we were and Gail had to invite him to join us. So we got popcorn and sodas and I tried to avoid checking Todd out even as my hindbrain spat at me. I did not like Todd, but if the bulge in the front of his jeans was anything to go by... No! I was so not going there. Of course he ended up sitting next to me on the end of the aisle so that I was hemmed in between him and Gail's spine. My sister in law sat with her legs over Harry's lap, the two of them giggling like teenagers.
"So did you get everything you needed?" Todd's voice in my ear was low and husky and I prayed that my tingling shiver wasn't visible. I could feel his breath on my face and I hated that I wanted to lean into that sensation.
"Whu... ?" I was so turned on and confused I could barely form a whole syllable.
"In the market. Did you find everything on your list?" Somehow Todd still managed to make the question sound ... obscene. Or maybe that was my mind.
"Oh, yeah. Thanks."
"You been up in the woods again Boy?" I stared at Todd. What right did he have to call me that, and why did his voice turn all my nerve ending inside out when he spoke. I grunted and folded my arms over my chest hoping to hide the fact that my nipples were trying to push holes in my new shirt. "Well if you ever need some company ... or somewhere to rest maybe. You know where I am."
"Thanks." I said tightly, and turned pointedly to the screen. I did not want to finish having this conversation.
The film started, which was a good distraction at least, and I did my best focus on the plot. There was a guy and a girl in love, big surprise, and I suddenly found myself wishing that there were more mainstream gay movies. I flicked a glance at Harry and Gail. Being so much older than me, Harry had been getting into girls and dates before I had even approached puberty. In a way it had been useful, starting puberty knowing that you didn't fancy your brother's girlfriends. Just all his really hot jock mates from the football team. Harry had known, after all, he'd been the one to blab to mum and dad when he'd worked out that his little brother was gay. It was a shitty thing to do, but he's made up for it since then. He and Gail are OK with me being gay, and Gail will grin and nod at me if she sees some cute guy who she thinks I might like. But we don't talk about it.
I was finally starting to get fully distracted by the movie when something warm and rough brushed the back of my neck. I jolted like someone had hit me with a cattle prod. Todd's arm was stretched out over the back of the chairs, those were his fingers on the naps of my neck. I tried to wriggle away, but there was nowhere to wriggle too and the actions simply allowed more of his hand to touch my skin as the collar of my shirt tugged down. I shivered, goose bumps raising on my skin. His fingers were really warm, and they just rested there until I was shaking with mixed up nerves and desire. I muttered something lame about needing the bathroom but Todd didn't move, gesturing for me just to clamber over. I'm sure if you have long legs, that's a fine option, but I am a skinny little short guy.