Hometown: Until You Know I Mean It
Jim and Wesley go Camping, where Jim learns more about Wesley's relationship with his Mom and Wesley begins to accept his feelings for Jim as genuine.
CW: Past Neglect and Abandonment
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CW: Past Child Neglect and Abandonment
“Good news, Wesley!" Mom says.
“Morning, Mom." I sit on the couch I've used as a bed the last two days.
“I just got off the phone with your school and guess what?! They'll let you move into the dorms today!"
“Today? Mom, it's like, in Colorado? We're in Oregon? Also, why?"
“I told them your father threw you out, so you need a place to stay for the summer." She continues.
“He didn't throw me out, I left," I reply. “And aren't I staying here?"
“You don't want to sleep on a couch all summer do you?" She says. “Besides, I got you a plane ticket. Come on let's get you packed, the flight is at noon."
“I was kinda hoping to stay with you, Mom."
She rolls her eyes. “Wes, I already got the ticket, so no helping it now."
"Can we have breakfast?" I ask.
“Of course," She hands me a crisp $10 bill. “There's plenty of restaurants at the airport."
“Okay."
We pull up to the 'departures' drop-off and Mom hands me a gift card to some big box store. “Aren't you coming with me?" I flip the card over in my hands. $75.
“What? Why would I do that, Wes?"
“How am I getting to the dorms from the airport?"
“I think there's a bus," She opens her phone and smiles. “Gotta go, baby, have fun!"
She waves goodbye in her rearview mirror.
“Mom! Mom, wait!" I chase after the car. “Come back, Mom!"
I stop at the end of the sidewalk, stunned. She left me here by myself. Reaching into my pocket I find my plane ticket and my wallet. I have maybe $200 in the bank and a handful of coins and small bills.
ID, phone, debit card, cash, and now that stupid gift card. That's all I need, that's all I'll ever need. I'm fine. I can do just fine on my own.
I'm alone.
But I'm fine.
Aren't I?
No one's coming.
Which is fine.
No one wants me.
Why would they?
I want to be alone. It's me leaving them not–
It's not… I'm leaving. Because I want to.
Why don't they want–
“Wes, hey, wake up," Jim lightly shakes me awake.
“Hmm?" I groan into the pillow. We had spent the night in his old room with his parents, we practically had to sleep on top of each other. It was more comfortable than I thought.
“You alright, you was sleepin' real rough." He presses his snout to my nose.
“Yeah, I'm fine." An easy lie.
Jim clearly doesn't believe me. “Hmm…" He licks my face.
“What are you doing?!"
“Makin' you feel better!" He continues to lick me.
“Jim! Cut it–blegh!" I grab a pillow and smack him with it, but it's hopeless.
“Feel better?" Jim lays on top of me now, and to my surprise I find myself smiling.
“I guess." I hold onto his paw as he gets out of bed.
“Momma said we gotta stay for breakfast, but we're leavin' right after." Jim throws my clothes at me.
“I'd hate to impose and–"
“Nuh-uh, Momma insists."
Before I can argue Jim grabs me and drags me downstairs.
Sitting at the kitchen table I watch raindrops drip down the window, I hope this clears up soon. Not that I mind the rain, but it'll be a pain to get a fire going and Jim is so excited for smores. He's already upset that his Dad refused to let us blow up the old furniture. At least we don't have to fuss with the trailer or guns now.
Mrs. Park serves a simple spread of ham, eggs, and hashbrowns. Pretty standard fare, but filling and a great way to start the day. The highlight, however, was the coffee. I take careful sips and swish it around my mouth trying to identify why it tastes so good.
“Jim?"
“Hmm?" He scarfs down his meal.
“What'd you put in the coffee?"
“Do you like it?" He smiles.
“Yeah, it's, well it's amazing, but I can't tell what's in it."
Jim shrugs. “S'too bad,"
“What?"
“I ain't tellin' you." He drinks his own coffee.
“Why not?" I ask.
“You're just gonna have to ask me to make it for ya, Wes."
“What about when I leave?" A hint of desperation is in my voice.
“Then you'll have to come back, won't ya?" He smiles broadly, revealing his sharp white teeth.
I roll my eyes but don't say anything, I shouldn't get anyone's hopes up. His hopes up, I mean.
The rest of our breakfast passes with mild conversation. Mr. Park stops in for coffee, but insists on leaving us alone so we can 'get reacquainted', and reminds us 'no funny business in his house'. Mrs. Park returns and cleans the table for us despite my protests.
“No, no, you boys have a big day planned." She places the plates in the sink. “You can help when you come back for Thanksgiving, Wesley."
“I–"
“Unless you're spending it with your mother, of course. How is Katherine?"
“Fine." I bite my tongue.
“I just know Cubby would love to have you here. He's missed you all these years you know."
“Momma…"
“Last year he got drunk–"
“Momma we don't gotta–"
“And talked with your dad all night about how much he missed you–"
“Momma!"
“You know he has one of your old shooting jackets under his bed?"
“He does?" I smile at Jim, his ears are flat and he can't look at me.
“Momma!"
“Oh yes, you must have left it here years ago–"
“Momma you're embarrassin' me!"
“I thought he meant to give it back to you someday, but I guess he just wanted to keep it for himself. Silly boy." She laughs as she washes the dishes. “Now that I think of it, I'd find it in his bed sometimes–"
“WE GOTTA GO! BYE MOMMA, BYE DADDY!" Jim roughly pulls me up from the table and hurries me out into the truck.
“Hey! Careful, I'm still fragile!" I laugh. “What about my stuff?"
“I'll go get it." He avoids eye contact. “You jus' sit n' relax. We'll be outta here in a jiffy."
It's only another twenty minutes or so before we leave. Jim's parents wave goodbye and Mrs. Park asks me at least three more times to come visit for the holidays while Mr. Park issues one final warning.
The drive to Jim's 'secret' campsite is rough and takes a couple of hours. It's been about twenty minutes since I've seen any kind of road, but Jim appears to know what he's doing so I don't bother him unless he asks me something. The drive is actually pretty peaceful and scenic, I hadn't realized how beautiful this place was when I was young. I guess I was too focused on getting out.
We pull into a clearing just after noon. Ancient-looking evergreens surround a grassy clearing with a small pile of rocks in the center and a single large log that's clearly been dragged from the nearby woodlands. I can tell he's camped here before.
Jim starts on the fire while there's still a break in the rain. Focus and determination are plastered on his muzzle as he offers weary and angry glances to the sky, he growls at the forming clouds.
“We're havin' hot dogs n' smores tonight." He says decisively.
I sit on the log behind him and admire how his back muscles flex while he works. I try to help, but he insists on pampering me. The most he lets me do is unload small items from the back of the truck and set up our blankets and pillows.
We'd forsaken a tent, opting just to sleep under the covered truck bed. It offers better protection from wind and rain should the weather take another bad turn. I explore the nearby area while he works on camp. A small creek is hidden behind some bushes, and there's a little pond at the end of it. Maybe we can fish in it? We can at least swim if it warms up at all. I'll just watch Jim swim, I guess.
I return to camp a couple of hours later, just as Jim gets the fire started.
“Woo!" Jim cheers. “Come n' join me by the fire, I'll show you how to cook a dog all proper, city boy!"
I scoot close to him on the log and absorb his instructions. My first few attempts result in shriveled blackened hotdogs, I even lose one into the fire pit. Jim excitedly shows me his perfect hot dog and offers it to me.
“I can eat the burned one, Jim," I say.
“Nuh-uh, pamperin', remember?"
“Pfft," I take a bite.
“I jus' feel responsible for my man." He skewers another pair of dogs.
“Your man, huh?"
“W-well, while we're datin'...Not… not permanent or nothin'..."
Guilt stabs my chest when I see how sad he looks. Almost as sad as when I told him off a few nights ago. He really needs someone, part of me wishes it could be me.
But it can't, right?
“What do you want in 'your man', Jim?"
“Wesley I want you to be my man. I don't need no help findin' somebody else." He says.
“Come on, if you had to date another guy, what would he be like?" I lean into him. “Just for fun."
He glares at me. “I… I guess you are leavin'..."
I frown.
“I jus' wanna little bit of romancin', I guess." He starts. “Cuddlin' and kissin' when I get home from work."
“That's cute, Jim. You're gonna make a man real happy someday."
He tries to smile at me, but it comes off as sad. “Yeah, I want my man to… to… I jus' want somebody I can hold all night long."
“Jim that's adorable!" I laugh.
“It ain't funny!" He says.
“I didn't say it was,"
“What about you, what's your dream man like?" He asks, sounding
I've never really thought about that, I guess. Every time I think I might like a guy enough to date things go south. Usually because of me, because I get buried in work or shooting, and before that school.
There's just too much for me to do. School is over, sure, but I need to keep up my gym habits, and my shooting, and I like to work overtime so I can make headway toward my next promotion. I just don't have the time for a relationship, yeah.
“I don't have a dream guy." I shrug.
“What?! Everyone does!" Jim removes his hot dogs from the fire and chomps.
“No time to think about it, I guess. Mostly I just hit up some guy on an app and get my needs met."
Jim frowns. “Don't you want somethin' more, like, a family or somethin'."
I shake my head.
“I'd like a couple kids, n' a husband." He puts his paws in his lap and twiddles his thumbs. “Momma wants grandbabies."
“I'd be a shit dad. Probably a shit husband, too."
“Don't say things like that, Wes. You're a catch if I ever saw one."
“I'm glad someone thinks so." I sigh. "You knew my Dad, he was–" I think of the box of photos, medals, and recordings. “A…A… troubled man. I didn't learn much about parenting from him."
Jim places his arm around me. “Well…What about your Momma?"
I laugh an empty laugh.
“Wes?" His muzzle comes close to my cheek.
“Mom…" How do I say this to Jim? Would he even understand? He loves his Momma, and she adores him. I'm not sure he really understands what my relationship with my mother is like compared to his own.
He squeezes my hand.
“I don't think Mom likes me."
Jim blinks and rolls off the log laughing. “Goddamn, Wes! You got me good,"
I stare at the ground.
Jim recovers from his laughing fit and looks up at me. “You're… You're jokin', right?"
I shake my head.
“I–" His jaw drops. “You ain't serious."
“Yeah."
He crawls to me on his knees and clasps my hands in his paws. “How?! How can your momma not like you?!"
I don't notice my teeth clench. “Maybe I remind her of Dad, maybe she didn't want me in the first place." Who does, after all? Jim's going to realize his mistake sooner or later.
Jim rests his head in my lap.
I pet him, enjoying the softness of his fur. “She put me on a plane that summer, so I stayed at the dorms."
“By yourself?"
“It's fine. I didn't really come visit, to be honest." I enjoyed my privacy and space.
“She just shipped you off?! Wesley…" He looks up at me. “Are you alright?"
No, I'm fucking miserable actually. “I'm fine."
Jim drags me into his arms. “Don't you get lonely, Wes?"
Sometimes. All the time. I hate it. “No, I–I don't mind. I'm fine."
He holds me at arm's length, his face becoming serious. “I don't believe you."
“I said I'm fine," Which makes it true. “I am."
“Wes, I don't appreciate bein' lied to."
“I wanted to leave, get some space. It was good. I'm good."
“Do you still see your Momma?" His eyes are so sad.
“Nah, I didn't go to her wedding a couple of years ago. She didn't invite me, I don't think her new husband likes me." Fuckin' Travis, prick. They deserve each other. I don't care, of course, I was fine without Dad and–
Dad and his stupid fucking box, why did he have that stupid. Fucking. Box? Why didn't I pick up the stupid fucking phone, why did Mom just send me away, why doesn't stupid fucking Travis like me? Why doesn't my own fucking MOM like me?! What did I do to her? My fist clenches and my nails dig into my palm.
Where did this come from? Everything should be fine, it's really fine. I'm fine. I'm ruining everything by crying to Jim, like when I cried to Mom, like when-- STOP!
“I'm fine. I really don't c–"
Jim grabs the back of my head and buries me in the scruff of his neck. His claws gently scratch behind my ear and head while his other rubs my back. His breathing is slow and soothing.
“I wanna tell you somethin', Wes." He says.
I nod.
“I ain't good at words, Wes, but there's nothin' I'd rather do than this, with you." He tilts my head up. “I'd do this with you forever, n' I'd never ask you to go. If… If you don't wanna be alone, you don't gotta be. I'm here."
I search for the lie he hides behind his smile. His goofy, sweet, loving smile. I don't deserve it. My stomach twists into knots, but it isn't the pain or shock or anger that I expected it to be, it's something else.
Hearing him say that, and knowing he means it, I feel…I feel safe.
“Wesley, can I kiss you?" He asks.
I nod, surprised he even asked.
He presses his lips to mine and for the first time, I don't push my tongue into his mouth, I don't try to dominate or control our embrace. I give in to him, expecting a cold and hurtful rejection, the kind of denial I'm used to when I show people how weak I am.
But it never comes. His tongue gently probes my mouth, as if asking for permission. One paw wipes tears from my cheek, and while his tongue fills my mouth he starts to laugh. I laugh too, for some reason.
“What's so funny?" I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nothin', but it made you stop cryin'."
I hadn't even noticed I started. All the pain in my arm, my clenched jaw and fist, are all gone. All because of this goofy, loving, and gentle bear.
“Wesley, I've wanted you my whole dang life. N' I'm gonna keep on sayin' it till you know I mean it."
Leaning forward I wrap my arms around him. I feel his fur between my fingers and on my face. He smells like a campfire, smoky and inviting. Maybe it's the cold, but I just want to be near him.
A cool drop hits my neck and Jim grumbles. “Guess smores have to wait till tomorrow…"
“Sorry, I didn't mean to–"
“Nah," Jim lifts me off the ground and marches toward the truck as the rain begins to fall. “I got somethin' better planned for dessert."
Jim has us both fully nude the second we crawl into the back of the truck. Resting most of his weight on top of me his kisses become more frequent and passionate, more hungry. He pushes my legs apart and presses his hard cock to mine. The sun Is only beginning to set, and Jim's fur glows where the last strips of sunlight peek through the window.
“I need you, bad, Jim." I whimper.
His paw wraps around my length and he holds us together, slowly stroking both of us. I'm longer by a couple of inches, but he's thicker. The fat pink knob already leaks a thin stream of precum, helping lubricate his strokes.
“Hmmm…" Jim groans as he strokes us. “Lemme take care of you, Wesley."
Rain begins to slowly patter on the truck's cover and windows.
I thrust upward into his paw and against his shaft, causing Jim to squeeze our dicks together more tightly.
“Nuh-uh, I'm takin' care of you Wes." He rubs our tips together.
I reach down to touch him and myself, but he grabs my hands and brings them up to his chest.
“Keep 'em right here, or I ain't gonna finish you, Wes." He winks.
I squeeze his soft and firm tits and pinch at his nipples. I want to take control like all of the other times we've been together since that first morning, but I resist the urge and allow him to take charge.
My muscles loosen and I close my eyes.
“Gettin' comfy?" Jim laughs, the pad of his thumb rubbing my tip causing a drop of precum to ooze down my length.
“Yeah…" I whisper and hold onto his gorgeous chest.
Jim presses closer, bringing his full and hairy balls to rest on top of mine.
It takes focus not to try and fuck his paw, to just let him take care of me. “I–I'm getting kinda close."
“Don't hold it back on my account, I wanna see you fuckin' blow!" Jim leans over me. “Lemme see that big fuckin' cock explode."
The feeling of his hairy balls bouncing on top of mine, of our precum mixing together to be used as lube, and the unusual feeling of real submission to him brings me dangerously close. I bite my lip, pinch his nipples, and groan.
“Think of fuckin' me, Wesley, think of your fat dick in my fat ass. I'm gonna have you fuckin' fill me, Wes I–"
“Fuck!" I can't hold it anymore, the thought of being inside him takes me over the edge.
Jim laughs as jet after jet of cum splatters across his belly and my chest. “Look at that, yeah, fuckin' yeah!"
I feel my cock become even more slick as Jim cums on me. He aims his swollen tip at me and absolutely coats my crotch with his load. He continues to stroke my sperm-soaked dick, making me writhe and squirm as I become increasingly sensitive.
“Jim, ungh f-fuck! Ahhhh!" I whine but he continues to tug my shaft until not even a drop oozes out. It was just a handjob and frotting, but fuck me if that wasn't one of the most intense orgasms I've ever had. I feel slightly delirious and totally exhausted as my arms fall to my side.
Jim grabs his underwear and wipes the mess from us both, taking special care to get me cleaned up. “Wes, I'm gettin' that in me, swear to God." He gently cups my balls.
I nod.
He lays down next to me pulls me into his chest and growls. “Feelin' better?"
“Much, much, better." I wrap my legs around him, his soft fur tickles my skin and we fall asleep tied together.