by Sy Walker
“Finish your soup,” he said with a smile.
Jake continued eating. It amazed him how good a can of tomato soup with some chopped-up veggie hot dogs could be. “You’re a vegetarian?” That was not normally surprising with hiking types, but he’d never heard of a werewolf vegetarian before.
Jameson blushed somewhat. He nodded, then tilted his head. “I’m obviously not a vegetarian when I’m in my wolf form, of course. But I try not to hurt innocent animals when I can avoid it.”
Setting down his pot of soup on the ground, Jake moved closer to Jameson and kissed him. It was a sweet, simple kiss on the lips and he hoped it carried all of the love and adoration that he felt for him in that moment.
“Can I tell you something?” Jake asked. “Promise not to laugh?”
“Come on,” Jameson said with a wry smile. “I think I’d be a massive hypocrite if I judged you.”
Jake chuckled a little and cleared his throat. “I felt so lost without you. Really. I mean it. There was something about hiking with you and spending my time with you that invigorated me. It made me feel cared about and capable of handling things. It’s probably no big secret – especially anymore – that I’ve been dealing with a lot of shit for a lot of years. You made that all go away for a while. You made none of that matter anymore.”
“Shh,” Jameson said. “Don’t use the past-tense.”
Jake considered making a tense/tents pun, but thought better of it. He couldn’t think of one that really worked anyway. “Would you possibly consider maybe being my boyfriend?”
He looked down at the ground, watching a roly poly bug crawl along a twig. He wasn’t used to being the asker. He wasn’t used to being so proactive.
“Possibly maybe yes,” Jameson replied. Gently, he placed a finger under Jake’s chin and lifted it up so he could look into his adorable, puppy dog brown eyes. Jake’s eyes were like a campsite fire, brown without being completely black, and glowing in warmth and earnest. Jameson wanted to get lost in those eyes, and then be found in them, dirty, achy and contented.
After a while of looking at the fire and holding hands, Jameson cleared away the cooking materials and dirty dishes, storing them in a bag so they could be cleaned next time they saw water. Then, taking Jake’s hands again, he led him into the tent.
CHAPTER FIVE
Man’s Best Friend
Careful to avoid further injury to Jake, Jameson eased him down onto the waiting sleeping bag. He kissed him softly, deeply, bringing his hands down to Jake’s fly and undoing his pants. Jake caught on quickly and undid Jameson’s fly as well.
Since they were outside, vulnerable to the elements, they opted to keep the rest of their clothes on this time. “Can you do this?” Jameson asked softly, keeping his mouth close to Jake’s. “Do you want to still do this?”
Jake nodded. “Yes,” he said.
He rolled over on the smooth, cool sleeping bag, offering himself up to his new boyfriend. Jameson may have been a werewolf, but he felt safer with him than ever.
Slowly, Jameson lowered himself onto Jake, inserting himself inside of him. He kept his thrusts slow and calculating so that Jake did not feel sore or dizzy, just pleasured. He took Jake’s hands in his and moved as deeply as he could within him without it causing either of them pain. He wanted to see how close they could be.
Jake let out a sniffle and Jameson stopped moving. Concerned, he asked, “What is it?”
Shaking his head, Jake laughed a little through his sniffling. “It’s nothing, it’s stupid.”
“I will pull out right now if you don’t tell me,” Jameson said, an edge to his voice that proved he meant what he said.
Jake swallowed hard. “It’s just that…” He craned his neck so he could look his partner in the eyes. “I think I might love you a little bit.”
Jameson leaned towards him and kissed him hotly, starting to move against him again. “I think I might love you a lot,” he replied.
Holding him down now, being rough but not too rough to cause actual harm, Jameson fucked Jake until Jake screamed out in orgasmic bliss. Jameson came inside of him, kissing Jake’s back and neck.
They did not use a condom that time. They trusted each other. If anything had been amiss, they would have shared it beforehand. Now that Jake knew and accepted – gladly in fact! – that Jameson was a werewolf, the hardest hurdle seemed to be over for them.
Now all they needed to do was continue hiking together until they reached Maine.
That night, they slept together in Jameson’s sleeping bag. It wasn’t quite big enough for both of them, but that was okay. They spooned together and made it work.
Jake got the best night’s sleep he’d ever had that night.
For months, Jake and Jameson hiked along the Appalachian Trail. Everything was so much easier for them, knowing that they could rely on each other. It became more fun than either of them had anticipated as well. As much as Jake liked being outside and going for healthy nature walks, he never considered that fun could be applied to that activity.
One day, while they were going through Massachusetts – though it was hard for Jake to remember exactly which state they were in; they were all looking exactly the same now that they’d been hiking for so long – he pulled out his cell phone and attempted to call Olga with an update. He had cut off all contact for a long time. He was too busy focusing on chatting with and enjoying the company of Jameson that he hadn’t been thinking about talking to anyone from back home.
He figured that Olga would not be too concerned. She would have called, surely, if they were sending out a search party for him.
“Hello?” Olga asked on the phone. “Oh my god, Jake? Dude, what the fuck!”
Jake laughed. “You miss me that much?”
“Miss you? Everyone’s been so worried about you. Months have gone by, no texts, no calls… Are you still alone out there?”
The last time he’d made contact was to inform her that his handsome trail mate and he had parted ways. There was a lot to catch Olga up on… Not all of it would need to be shared, of course.
She did not need to know that Jameson was a werewolf.
However, Jake felt like she should know that Jameson had quite possibly saved his life.
“I’m not alone, no,” Jake replied, grinning over at Jameson. He took his hand with his non-phone-holding hand. “Jameson and I met up again. He, uh, actually saved me. Dickweed Ivan was stalking me apparently. The loser hiked the trail but wasn’t doing it for any of the right reasons. He jumped me outside of a 7-11.”
He couldn’t see her, but Jake could tell that Olga’s large, chestnut eyes were wide open now. “Oh my fucking god,” she said. “Are you okay? Jesus! I think it’s partially my fault.”
“What do you mean? How could it possibly be your fault?”
There was a pause. Jake imagined Olga sending Ivan on a mission to beat him shitless. He just could not see that ever happening.
Jameson looked over curiously. “There’s a diner up ahead that boasts pancakes,” he said in his quiet way. “Do you feel like breakfast for dinner?”
Jake nodded to him, appreciating that Jameson was at least keeping calm about everything.
“I may have told Ivan that you were hiking the Appalachian Trail from Shenandoah,” Olga confessed. “I thought he’d just shrug it off. You know how he gets. He of course acted all moody. I thought he’d have the decency to leave you be. After all, didn’t he kick you out, not the other way around?”
“Exactly!” Jake said. “Thank you.” He was somewhat miffed that Olga had betrayed that sensitive information to the Devil Himself, but he could let it slide. It had been a simple error in judgement; and anyway, it had happened. It was behind them now.
Jake let out a short laugh in order to defuse the intense atmosphere of their conversation. Meanwhile, Jameson led him by the hand towards the looming Lobstah Dinah. He was amused that Jameson would choose pancakes over lobster. Then he remembered Jameson’
s interesting penchant for vegetarianism and laughed again.
“Are you sure you don’t hate me?” Olga asked.
“Nah,” Jake said. “After all, your telling Ivan was a catalyst for everything else. Jameson saw Ivan kicking my ass and came to my rescue. I should have you damed for your help in this.”
Olga chuckled. “I’ll dame you,” she replied. “Well, I’m glad I could help, I guess. I am so glad Ivan or a pack of wild wolves didn’t kill you out there.”
Jake looked at Jameson at the mention of wolves. He really wanted to tell her. Maybe it was better suited for a series of texts. He didn’t think he could handle Olga’s high-pitched screams of oh my god!!! in his ear right now.
“Much thanks,” he said in lieu of anything else. “I’ll call you again when we get to Maine. It shouldn’t be long now!”
As soon as he ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket, he and Jameson went arm-in-arm into the silly-named diner.
Jameson felt like he could eat a giant stack of pancakes.
“I don’t know what’s going on, I’ve been ravenously hungry lately,” Jake said.
“Yeah, well there might be a reason for that”. Jameson’s eyes glowed as a warm smile spread across his face.
EPILOGUE
The hike into Maine was easy enough, since Jake was part of a tag team. But the weather and terrain were much rougher than the sort of thing he was used to. He longed for the days of sleeping outside in relative peace. There was snow and sleet, and rocks everywhere now. Their tents were laughable when it came time to use them as shelter.
“Do you want to stay in a motel tonight?” Jameson asked, noticing the chagrined type of expression on Jake’s face.
Jake had prided himself on not complaining ever since the Virginia-Maryland border, but it was getting harder and harder. “I think that would be best,” he replied. “I don’t want to sleep out here in this downpour.”
Jameson nodded, producing a trail map from one of the pockets of his back pack. He had been consulting that map a lot, more and more as things got rougher. Jake was glad that Jameson had had the brains to pick up a map like that. He’d been relying on Google Maps himself, but that got pretty dicey whenever reception and GPS stopped working.
“There’s a Comfort Inn up ahead about three miles,” Jameson said. “Will that work?”
“Anything that will get us out of this rain will work,” Jake replied.
Jameson put the map back and took Jake by the hand. They walked to the inn and went inside. “Room for two, please,” Jameson said.
Jake admired, yet again, the calm bravery of this guy. He was not exactly protesting at Stonewall or anything like that, but he was quietly brave in other ways. He did not shy from going up to people and proclaiming that he and his boyfriend would like a room or a table or a space at a campsite. He threw caution to the wind and didn’t care what anyone thought. At least he didn’t show that he did.
Conversely, Jake let things get to him. He wasn’t afraid of being true to himself, but sometimes he left things unsaid so that he could avoid any ugliness. Because of this, he had been spared a lot of brutality while he was in school. The brutality, of course, came later.
The receptionist stared at the two of them and at first Jake worried that they were going to be denied a room together in Maine of all places. But then she smiled at them and handed Jameson a small envelope that contained two key cards. “Room 436,” she said, pointing off behind her desk, to her right. “Elevator is just down the hall.”
Jake and Jameson exchanged relieved looks and headed to the elevator. Once inside it, Jake threw off his pack. “Ugh,” he said. “Thank you so much. Not going to lie, I really needed an escape from my escape.”
Jameson chuckled at him. “I didn’t know you were still escaping. What are you escaping now?”
Laughing a bit, Jake shook his head and shrugged at the same time. “I don’t even know anymore. Life.”
The elevator doors opened and they went to their room. Jameson handed a key card to Jake, who attempted to open it. His timing kept being off, and the light on the lock kept blinking red. Jameson calmly took the card from Jake and swiped the door open.
“There’s a secret to these,” Jameson said with a smile.
Jake went into the room. He admired the framed artwork of fish. He sat on the bed and tested its springiness. He looked at the menu for the inn’s offered continental breakfast in the morning. Anything to distract him and keep him from looking in Jameson’s eyes.
“What if I told you that I thought we should live here?” he finally asked, still keeping his gaze on the gray and blue, patterned carpet. The pattern made him imagine a bunch of little, glowing, 80s-style Xs. Why did hotels and motels always have weird, patterned rugs?
Jameson sank next to him on the bed. Their shoulders brushed against each other. Well, Jake’s shoulder brushed against Jameson’s upper arm.
“I would ask some questions, to see what you were looking for in a place to live, say, or what you were hoping to achieve by living here, but I wouldn’t think it was a bad idea.”
Finally, Jake looked Jameson in the eye. He bit his lip. “I can’t go back to Richmond,” he said, his voice seeming to crumple along with his body. He fell against Jameson, head pressed against his chest, heaving as though crying but no tears would come yet. He just felt so afraid. Now that their hike was at an end, he was realizing that he had no plans for what came next. He did not want to just get in a car and drive back to Richmond. Fuck Richmond.
He wanted to stay in lovely, temperature-temperamental Maine. He did not even care which town. He only knew that he wanted to stay there with Jameson and figure out the rest as he went along.
Jameson brought his hands up and placed them on Jake’s back, gently rubbing and massaging while he thought it over. “Do you want to live in a house or an apartment?”
“Is it bad if I said I wanted to live in a house because they’re more permanent?”
“Nothing you could suggest would possibly be bad,” Jameson assured him. “As long as you don’t suggest that we split up again. I have all the proof I need that a pretty boy like you isn’t safe out there by himself.”
Jake slowly smiled at him. “That’s easy for you to say, wolf boy. If I could turn into a werewolf, I’d never worry about anything else.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Jameson countered. “If I could just be a normal person, I’d never have to worry about hurting anyone again.”
Jake didn’t think that was entirely fair or accurate. “I think you do quite well at hurting people just by so achingly gorgeous,” he said. “When you walked away from me, it done near broke my heart.”
Jameson took his hand in his and kissed it, holding it to his chest. Jake enjoyed feeling the pulsing heartbeat up against his hand. It was gentle and soothing, like Jameson.
“I’ll never do it again,” Jameson swore. “So I guess this means tomorrow we’re going house hunting.”
“Well if this growing belly of mine is what you say it is, we’ll be playing house for a long time to come.”
“Come you say?” Jameson grinned.
“Now that is something I am ready to do.”
THE END
Imregnated by the Wolf
“I don’t know why we are having this conversation again, Drew. The answer is no. It has always been no. It will always be no.”
“It’s like you are the only one in this marriage, Stuart. You decide we can’t have a child and that is the end of the discussion. There’s no room for compromise of any sort with you.”
“Compromise? How do you compromise a fucking child? There is no middle ground with that. You either have one or you don’t. It’s not as if we can get one on loan and see how it goes.”
“Why not? We could foster a child until they find a permanent home. You might even find you enjoy it and want to provide for him or her longer term.”
“Are you a goddamned moron, D
rew?”
“I don’t see why calling me names is necessary, Stuart.”
“It is if it helps you to understand how incredibly ridiculous you are being. Two gay men have no business raising a child.”
“Gay couples raise kids all the time.”
“Yeah, fucked up kids that get bullied and are confused about their own sexuality. What if the kid is a straight boy or a lesbian? What do we know about women?”
“As much as any parents do about raising a child different from themselves. That is not a valid argument. Our parents managed to raise two well-adjusted gay men even thought they were straight.”
“Wow. You are really in denial about your childhood aren’t you?”
“Okay. It wasn’t easy for them, but they did it. We can too.”
“Our parents, both yours and mine, were horrified at having two openly effeminate sons. Yours tried to have it beaten out of you by nuns at a catholic school and mine sent me abroad in hopes that I would find somewhere to be acceptable or get turned by a Paris whore.”
“We aren’t our parents.”
“No. We are worse. We are two flaming homosexuals that our child’s friends would bully him or her about.”
“It’s life. We would handle it.”
“I am not going to handle it. Now, get it out of your empty head and go buy a fucking dog or a cat. I am done with this discussion and won’t be having it with you again. I have to get to work.”
Drew watched him storm out, fighting back tears. He had always wanted a child of his own, but that was out of the question and the man he had married was dead set against adopting, fostering or even using a surrogate. After five years of marriage, it was still something he wouldn’t consider. Later that night, Drew tried to smooth things over with him.
“I’m sorry, Stuart. I know I came into this marriage knowing you didn’t want children. It’s unfair of me to expect you to change your mind. I love you and will let it go.”
