Healing Bears - Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Shortly after four a.m., Craig opened his door and padded to Terry's open doorway. He stood there, naked, for a long time; listening to Terry's breathing and noting his restless sleep. He thought about many things, especially the conversations the two men had had over the past two weeks, and his reaction to them. He thought a lot about Terry and the innate goodness he perceived in him. Outside, a dog barked, and was answered by another. A night bird sang briefly, then was silent. His decision made, Craig stepped into the room.

The mattress creaked a bit and Terry woke almost instantly. Aware that Terry was awake, Craig turned and said, “Is this still OK?”

“Oh!... Oh, yes!” Terry reached his arms up and pulled the big bearish man down next to him. “Oh, God, you are so fucking beautiful.” He pulled Craig in tight, and for a few minutes they lay like that, closely cuddled together, absorbing each other's heat and scent. Craig tuned in the bed and faced Terry.

“Can we pick up where I stopped us before? Kiss me?”

As the two moved in to each other, their erect cocks collided, but each ignored this as their lips touched, then parted; and their arms went up so that hands could caress the backs of heads and then pull them in closer.

Terry's tongue played tag with Craig's, probing and retreating, then filling the other man's mouth. By turns tender and firm, the kisses grew in passion and their hands slid down furry backs and caressed muscle and fat. Chests and bellies pressed together, cocks rubbed and slid against each other. Craig moaned and placed his big hands on Terry's butt and pulled him in tight against himself. “Sweet God in heaven... you feel so good!”

Terry forgot his leg and began to hump against Craig's body. Craig returned motion for motion, and in only a few moments, Craig shouted, “I'm cumming!” Terry felt a hot, pulsing flood against his belly and shouted, “Yeah! Fuck, YEAH!!” His own ejaculation started.

The two clung to each other as they pumped out their seed and pent up desire. Rasping breath and grunts filled the room. Gradually the urgency of their movements slowed and the rolled back slightly so they could look at each other. “God damn,” Terry whispered. Craig smiled and ducked his blond head against Terry's hairy chest. He searched for and found a nipple, and began to lap at it, licking and nibbling.

“I'll give you two hours to stop that.”

Craig chuckled. “Hell I will.”

Terry was about to ask something but Craig's move south stopped him. Craig's tongue left a wet trail of saliva through Terry's cum-matted fur. He paused when he reached Terry's semi-erect cock. He slowly licked the hot flesh, tracing around the ridge and probing the piss slit. He slowly swallowed the now hard member, his nose embedded in Terry's thick bush. He inhaled deeply and groaned. Terry bucked once or twice, and Craig began a pumping motion with his mouth. He kept up a steady rhythm, and added his hand to the effort, his slick spit serving as lube. Suddenly, Terry said, “I'm really close, buddy. Better pull off.”

“Nuh-uh,” Craig mumbled from around Terry's throbbing meat, and shook his head. He stayed firmly attached to Terry's cock, still milking him with his mouth Terry cried out and surged upwards into Craig's hot mouth and bucked, once, twice, and then shot volley after volley into the waiting gullet. Craig swallowed once and slowed, allowing Terry's hips to finish the pumping job. When he was finally through, Craig scooted up and shared Terry's cum with him.

“Always wondered what it would be like to do that.... swap spit and cum with a guy.”

“Well?”

“I like it!” Craig got a goofy grin on his face and kissed Terry again. His cock was once again rigid with desire and when Terry's paw caressed it, he almost whimpered with joy.

“Don't stop.... dear sweet Jesus, don't stop!”

Terry really wanted to return the favor of a blow job, but he sensed that Craig's need was for something else. He felt his hand grow slick with the blond bear's precum and rolled on his back, pulling Craig on top of him. Once Craig was between Terry's legs, he raised them up against Craig's sides. The invitation was plain, but Craig had little experience beyond a few hasty blow jobs and a fumbling and failed attempt at fucking. He wasn't sure if Terry wanted to be fucked or was just raising his cock for him to suck dry again.

“Fuck me, bear. Take my ass.” Terry's hands hooked around behind his knees and pulled his legs up tighter, raising his butt.

Craig read that signal easily. He raised up and started to move in to penetrate. Terry stopped him. “Man, you gotta use some lube. Over there, in the night stand drawer.” Craig leaned over and opened the draw and got the bottle of Wet. He squirted some on his paw and slicked his meat, and wiped the rest on Terry's ass. “Like that?” Terry nodded.

He moved back into position, centered his rock hard meat against Terry's hole and started to push. Terry grunted and pushed back, straining against the battering ram. Craig's blunt tip forced an entry, parting the tissue and muscle ring and starting to make entry. Terry tried to muffle it, but a groan escaped.

Craig immediately stopped, his body rigid with concern. He started to pull out, but Terry spoke, “No, NO! Stay in me.... just hold for a minute, let me get used to you.” Craig stopped pulling out and held still.

“OK. Just go a bit easy.”

“All the way in?” Craig's body was telling him to pound away but his inexperience and concern for Terry were making him cautious.

“In a bit, then pull back, but not all the way out. Go in a bit deeper each time. You're fucking huge!”

“Aww, man, I AM hurting.” Craig started to back out.

“Don't you DARE! I want you in me, bear... I want your hot fucking cock buried in my ass.” Terry looked up and smiled at Craig, who looked a bit shocked at the language. “It's OK... really.”

Craig resumed a slow pump on his buddy's ass. He went a bit deeper each time until his balls rested on Terry's ass. He signed deeply at the same time Terry did. They both laughed.

“It just takes a bit of time, that's all. Damn, you feel good!”

“Really? You like it?” Craig sounded unconvinced.

“Fuck yeah.... This is as close as two guys can be. And when it's someone like you, it's just so great....” Terry sighed again. “Fuck me, Craig.”

Craig took his cue and began to move, pumping his meat into Terry's warm, furry butt. Each stroke got a grunt or a moan from Terry, and soon Craig was joining in, vocalizing along with him. Craig felt the urgent need of his balls and prostate, the pressure building and the geyser of his load starting to rise. “Oh, shit, man, I am gonna cum... I'm gonna shoot!” Craig's rhythm became erratic as he deep-dicked Terry in an attempt to climb inside the mid-sized bear he was fucking. “GOD!!”

Terry moaned along with Craig's shout and felt the blond bear's hot gush of semen shoot into his gut. His leg was aching badly but he wasn't about to stop, he wanted this bear to breed him, wanted this healing closeness for both of them. He felt as if he was in part of his dream, but this was real, he could touch this and it wouldn't melt away. He worked his sphincter, squeezing tight to give Craig the best ride he could. Craig moaned with pleasure.

Craig slowly softened and he finally pulled out, still dripping some cum, shining and slick with lube and his own seed. “Oh, man......” He was utterly at a loss for words. He'd never experienced release like that before, had never had such a satisfactory orgasm. He helped Terry lower his legs and lay down beside him.

“How do you feel?” he asked Terry.

“Well and truly fucked. No, more than that. Full and content and happy. Hold me?”

Craig put his arms around the smaller bear and cuddled him close. He was silent for a long while and then sighed.

“You worrying again, Craig? Don't. If you ever had any doubts, listen to your body now.” Terry placed his arms over Craig's and hugged.

“No. No doubts. I was just.... happy. Relaxed. It was a 'good' sigh.”

“Good... I'm glad.”

As their breathing returned to normal, a delightful sense of satisfied lassitude crept up on both of them, and they dozed in each other's arms.

Healing Bears - Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The next weeks were a mix of painful, exhausting physical work for Terry, and equally painful and exhausting mental examination for Craig. A curious bond formed between the two men and they struggled to find a way of accommodating each other's needs and limits. Craig pushed Terry to exercise his knee and leg. Sometimes the pain was almost too much for Terry, but he kept at it, realizing that Craig's purpose was the restoration of strength and mobility, not real torture.

“I think you PT's descend directly from the Spanish Inquisition, ” he said, gasping at a particularly painful series of leg extensions Craig was putting him through for the third time that day.

“We taught them,” Craig said calmly. “Stop whining. Again.”

Terry kept provoking thought on Craig's part, persistently challenging him to think through the beliefs he had swallowed whole as a child and a youth. He pointed out Biblical inconsistencies, and introduced differing interpretations of verses, and calmly refuted the factual errors Craig's father and others in his church had so eagerly transmitted to him while he grew up. It was uncomfortable for Craig, but he kept at it.

Craig would discuss some aspect of Terry's physiology in regards to an exercise or his injuries, and Terry would use it as an opening to talk frankly about his, and Craig's, body in general. Gradually, Craig came to see the body not as sinful burden, filled with feelings that must be denied and rooted out; but as a natural part of creation, a good and responsive part of a whole person.

The next day in the shower, Terry said to Craig, “Why don't you ditch those boxers. They just get wet and drip all over my floor.” He was grinning at the blond bear.

“Probably better if I don't.”

“Bull. It will be MUCH better for my mental well-being if you are naked, too.”

“Yeah, y'all just wanna jump my bones.” It was the first time Craig had ventured a joking response to any of Terry's gay comments.

“Now what makes you think I'm interested in you?” Terry asked.

“That,” Craig said, pointing to Terry's jutting cock.

Terry laughed out loud. “Oh, just ignore him, he's ungovernable. Help me in and reach me that soap.” Craig hesitated, then shed his boxers and stepped into the shower with the soap in his hand.

“Now see, that's what I mean. Your body doesn't lie, Craig.” The blond man's meat was obviously thickening as they stood together and the water ran over both of them. Terry sighed. “I'm not trying to mess with you, Craig. Just trust your body and what it's telling you. Mind and body work best together, didn't they teach you that in your PT classes?”

“Shut up and turn around so I can scrub your back.”

* * *

Terry could see some real improvement within the first week, and as the days went on, he could feel more progress. He could get up out of a chair without help, and could walk fairly well with the cane. He still could not pick up things that fell to the floor, or get out of his low bed easily. But most noticeable to him was the level of pain. The meds in the hospital had only masked or dulled the pain for a while. It always came back, and at the same level. But Craig's relentless exercises had made a real difference. The constant throbbing pain in his knee was now only only starting in the late afternoon, and that had lessened to the point where he only needed pain killers at night to sleep. He still needed help in the shower, but more as a precaution than anything else. His back was killing him, though.

“It's because y'all are favoring that leg when you walk. It's throwing your spine and pelvis out of alignment. It will ease up as you walk more naturally. There's an exercise we can do to help with the back.”

“No! Not more torture!” Terry pretended to fend off Craig as he reached out to take Terry's shoulders, then reached out and hugged him. “Thanks, man. You've worked wonders. I couldn't have gotten along without you here.” There was a slight pause, and then Craig hugged back. When he didn't release the hug immediately, Terry took a chance and hugged tighter. Craig continued to hug back.

'My, my,' Terry thought to himself.

Craig was making progress in his mind, too. He felt more at ease with himself. They didn't discuss his beliefs and feelings daily, but he thought almost constantly about his conversations with Terry and the topics they brought up in his mind. He grew more comfortable with questioning long-unexamined beliefs, and more comfortable in expressing his doubts and interests. He often went shirtless in the house now, and one day, he even complimented Terry on his body.

“You've got a good build. It's like a football player's body. You know, solid... thick. It looks good on you.”

Terry smiled and gave Craig a hug.

On Terry's first trip to the grocery with Craig, a stocky, goateed young pocket bear grinned at them in the parking lot as Terry was being helped out of the front seat of the van. “Woof!” Terry said quietly.

“Huh?” Craig asked.

“Oh, I was just woofing at that young cub. Nice eye candy.”

“Young what?” Craig asked. “Is this part of that bear business you mentioned?”

“Yep. A young, stocky, hairy guy, with a beard or especially a goatee, is a cub. An older, or maybe taller bearded beefy man who's also hairy is a bear. It's more than just looks, though. It's an attitude, it's about being relaxed with yourself and your sexuality and not worrying about what's in fashion or what the style is. It's having a good time with buddies, enjoying spending time with them over a good meal or a board game just as much as going to a club. It's having fun going to a movie instead of hanging out at the local pick up bar looking for the next trick.”

By this time they were at the door of the market and getting a cart, and the conversation continued, covering the feeding habits of bears, the meaning of 'twinks', the rise of the 'bear clone look' and relative merits of beard styles and hair cuts. By the time they had reached the car with the week's supply of groceries, Craig had a fair idea of bear culture.

“I had no idea. I mean, I got teased for being so hairy a few times, and the couple of girls my folks made me date didn't like it. My sister called it gross. Even Bart called me 'Sasquatch'.” Craig scratched the thicket of dense blond chest fur through his shirt. “So, some guys actually like you to be hairy?”

“Lordy, Craig, do you have any idea how handsome you are, how desirable you are? You are a bear's wet dream. You're strong, you're pelted, you're stocky; hell, you're employed! Any bear would love to call you his partner. And the ones that matter, the ones really worth paying attention to, will see the good, kind person under all that, and respect you for the inner strength you have.”

On the way back home, Craig turned the radio up and the two men sang their lungs out to The Knack's My Sharonna. Terry noticed that Craig looked more relaxed and happy than he'd seen him.

Four weeks after Terry had been released from the hospital, Craig drove him back for a check up with the surgeon. Dr. Richardson was pleasantly astonished at the progress Terry had made, and gave his a clean bill of health. “Well, you certainly have been working hard on your recovery! Walk up and down for me, please.” Richardson watched him carefully as he paced the room. “Well, Mr. Ferguson certainly seems to have been a good choice. You've made impressive, ah, strides.” The doctor chuckled smugly at his weak pun. “I think I can sign you off now. The insurance will be happy about that. I know you will be, too. I'd still keep that appointment with the physical therapy department, but your progress is excellent. See your GP in a month or so. You need a refill on the Vicodin? No? Good... really good.” The doctor shook Terry hand and hustled out the door, already intent on the next patient. Terry dressed, slipped his shoes back on (a small triumph in itself), and walked slowly back to the waiting area where Craig sat, gazing off with that calm look he had. He noticed Terry and rose.

“Ready? What did the doc say?”

“He said you'd done a great job rehabilitating me. He released me.” Terry looked at Craig and said quietly, “Thanks, buddy.”

Craig gazed back at Terry with his calm gray eyes. “Thank you... buddy.”

On the way home, Terry brought up a topic he was loathe to discuss. “The doc's released me, so the insurance is finished. That means the service will be assigning you to a new patient, right?”

“Nope. Y'all were my last patient. I told them I would finish with you, however long it took, but that you would be my last. I take the California certification test next week. If I pass, I'll maybe take the job the hospital offered me, or look for a clinic. Eventually, I want to set up in private practice again. If you need me, I'll be happy to stay a few more days.”

There was a silence that got longer and longer. Finally, Terry broke it. “Craig.... I'd like you to stay. I'd miss you. You are welcome to stay as long as you like. Take the test and when you get the results, you can make plans or look for a clinic job... just don't feel you have to go right away.”

Craig reached over and gave Terry's good leg a squeeze. “Thanks. I'd miss you, too. If you don't mind... really don't mind, I'll stay a bit.”

Terry happy smile answered for him.

* * *

That night after supper was cleared away and Craig had reviewed some for his upcoming exam, he watched Terry lower himself into bed. “You're doing that really good now... good progress. Y'all walked a lot longer this afternoon, too. How's the leg?”

“You know, I hadn't noticed, but it doesn't hurt much at all! It's usually a bit painful by now. I guess it really IS better.” Terry grinned. “It's still a bit difficult getting out of this thing, though.”

“Ah, you'll manage. Need anything?” When Terry shook his head, Craig said, “OK, night!” Craig made to shut off the light when Terry's quiet voice stopped him.

“Craig... Sleep in here tonight?”

The room went very quiet. “Terry, I shouldn't. No, it's not that I doubt any more. I know I'm gay and that's OK now. I can deal with that, and I know I'm not damaged goods, and I thank you for that. But I just don't think it's the right thing to do. I don't know, maybe it's the 'patient/therapist' thing.”

“We're not patient and therapist anymore,” Terry said.

“I know. I'd like to, but....”

“Then do it.”

Craig just shook his head, smiled, and said, “I can't.” He turned off the light.

Terry lay there, cursing himself for his lack of self control. 'WHY did I ask him? WHY couldn't I just wait and let things work out. Now he'll think that all I want really IS to get in his pants. He'll think that all gay men have just one thing on their mind, dammit. When will I learn, for chrisakes?' The angry thoughts buzzed in Terry's head, keeping him awake until long after he saw Craig's light go out from under his closed door. Finally, he slept. It wasn't his leg that made him restless that night.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Terry woke from the familiar dream. Once again he was happy: had the prize of a solid relationship, a fulfilling closeness, a strong and vigorous mating; and once again, it receded at waking, leaving him with the old, empty feeling. He stared at the ceiling for a long time before finally closing his eyes again to a fitful sleep.

Healing Bears - Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Terry sat while Craig got the coffee going. While it dripped, Craig got mugs and sugar from the cupboards, then sat across the small table from Terry.

“I'm sorry for all that back there, Terry. I kinda lost it, in a lot of ways. I owe y'all an explanation, but can it wait until the coffee's done?” Terry nodded.

When the coffee was finished after what seemed like an eternity of looking at each other, Craig poured them both a mug and spooned sugar into his. He cleared his throat.

“When I was growing up in Mississippi, my family moved around some. Dad finally landed in a small town where the local church needed a preacher. Dad had done some preaching when he was younger, and he sort of fell into it again. The church folk liked him and we stayed. I went to elementary school there and my older brother and sister went to high school there.” Craig and Terry both sipped their coffee. “Dad was Hardshell Baptist, very strict fundamentalist. I'd had some urges and thoughts, and worked hard to purge them, to be good. I was tormented. Most of the time, really; looking back on it. I looked at men when I shouldn't have. One day, my dad caught me looking at my neighbor when he'd taken his shirt off and was pouring water over himself to wash the heat off. He blew up. He grabbed me and beat the tar out of me. I was big, even then, but dad was bigger. He called me a 'spawn of Satan' and vowed he'd beat the devil out of me, to save me from damnation and hell. He and mom watched my like a hawk after that. They'd walk in on me when I was taking a leak or a dump, or when I was taking a bath. I had to come home directly from school. The only place I got to go alone was down to the grocery store, and I had to be right back. If I even glanced at a guy, I got a beating. They even got my brother to watch me.” He stopped and looked Terry squarely in the face. “They didn't save me from hell, they put me in it.”

“When I finished high school, there was a crisis. I wanted to go to the junior college in Biloxi and get certified as a physical therapist. One of the people at church was a PT and talked about how satisfying it was. I thought it sounded like a cool profession and I liked helping people, and since someone in church was a PT, how could it be wrong? Boy, was I ever mistaken. My folks were dead set against it. I know now it was because I'd be out from under their direct supervision, but they said it was because I'd be risking my soul by touching people... touching men. They just KNEW I'd be touching men in 'that way'. So, no college for me.”

Terry interrupted, “That's awful!”

“Oh, it gets better. I got desperate. I knew I'd kill myself if I stayed there much longer. I ran off. I took what money I had saved secretly and I hitched to Biloxi that August. I enrolled at the junior college, and since I was eighteen, I didn't need any parent signatures. I just put down 'deceased' on the forms. I got a part time job and rented a room from a nice old woman close to the Sonic where I worked. And I met a guy, Bart, a really nice guy. He worked at Sonic, too, and he had an apartment. He asked me to share with him and split costs, and I did. We got along great. I wasn't interested in him in that way, we were just good buddies. It was nice just having someone to hang out with, and not have to keep looking over my shoulder or watch every move or word out of my mouth. I think for the first time in years, I relaxed.”

“I wasn't all that smart. Hell, face it: I was ignorant and sheltered. My folks knew I wanted to go to Biloxi, I'd begged and pleaded with them about it for months. So they knew where I was likely to be. I don't know why they took so long, but about three months later, they showed up in Biloxi. They guessed I'd go to school, and there was only one junior college in town then; so Dad bullied the registrar's office at the college into giving him my address. “

“We were painting the bedroom I slept in, so I'd moved all my stuff into Bart's room while we finished that. It was kind of hot still, and we both had our shirts off and were painting the ceiling. We were horsing around, dabbing paint on each other, and in busts my dad and mom. Mom took one look and started weeping and wailing. Dad stormed into the other bedroom to get my things, and of course, he saw all my stuff, and all of Bart's stuff, which he knew wasn't mine, all together in one room. Bart hadn't made the bed that morning, either. Dad put two and two together and got seventeen. I thought he was going to have a stroke. He ordered mom to get my things and he decked me with one punch. He chased Bart out of the place and he and mom dragged me out to the car and threw my clothes in the back and drove off. Bart called the police, but by the time they got there, we were long gone. “

“My God! What did you do?” Terry shook his head in amazement.

“We didn't go home. Dad drove like a bat outta hell, and every once in a while, Mom would turn around and yell at me and then start crying again. We wound up at some sort of house out in the countryside, really remote country. It was some sort of treatment place, but I didn't know that then. He ran in and got a couple of guys to come out and guard the car while he went inside with my mom. About an hour later they all came out, I was manhandled out of the car and into the place, and they drove off. It turned out to be a fundamentalist 'treatment center', where they promise to cure gay people, re-program them.” Seeing the appalled look on Terry's face, Craig stopped and sipped some more coffee. “Ever see the movie, Clockwork Orange? That comes pretty close. I was in that prison for almost four weeks.”

“Jesus Christ! What did you do? How did you get out?”

“Well, for all their lock-step discipline, they were lax in some ways. And it turned out that one of the night attendants wasn't so holy, after all. I was able to cheek the sedatives they made you take each night. They were too busy praying to notice I hadn't swallowed. I saved them, and when this night guy sort of showed some interest in me, I worked out a plan. I chatted with him, and offered to watch things while he took a leak. That worked out. I didn't 'try anything', like getting away, so he kind of trusted me. Well, he was interested in me, too; so it was kind of easy. Couple of nights later, I mentioned that my shoulders were sore, and he offered to give me a massage. Actually, he was pretty good at that, but his hands lingered a little too long, if y'all know what I mean. I looked up at him, and thanked him and offered to get some coffee for us both while he got comfy and then I'd rub his shoulders. His eyes lit up, and I got the coffee, put the smashed up sedative pills I had in it, and loaded it with sugar so he wouldn't notice. I gave it to him and he drank it while I gave him that shoulder rub. In about fifteen minutes he passed out. I took his keys and got the hell out. I'd seen him use his keys on the alarms, so I knew what to do. “

“ I was lucky, there were only three cars parked out back, and his keys fitted the first one I tried. I was sweating bullets as I started it and drove out, I just knew someone would hear and call the police. But I got away. I ditched the car as soon as I got to the highway, and hitched back to Biloxi. I was afraid they'd call out the state troopers, but I was of age, and hadn't signed any papers or anything, there was no consent on my part. So I guess they were kind of leery of calling out the cops. I don't know if they called my folks then or later. I never talked to my folks after that, so I don't know.”

“I went to Bart's place, and bless his heart, he gave me some money and called a school buddy who lived in Chicago. I took the Greyhound up there, and crashed with Bart's friend until I got a job and a place. I worked different places and finally got enough money together and went back to school and got certified as a PT. I paid Bart back out of my first paycheck as a PT.”

“I was really spooked by anything having to do with sex or men. In spite of all the bad stuff that had happened, I still did believe it was a sin. Believed, I mean. It's weird, I know, but I still thought if I tried hard enough, I could return to grace, as my mom put it and everything would turn out all right. I worked, saved money, kept to myself. Then I met this guy. Oh, God, did I fall hard for him. All my resolve to 'be good' melted in a flash. We moved in together and when he got a job offer out here, I followed him. Turns out it was a bit more than a job offer. I came home one day and found them. They were going at it like crazed weasels. Well, that sort of soured me on 'gay relationships' permanently, I guess. I told myself it was for the best, that God was telling me this was wrong and that I could walk away from it all. I'd be alone, but I'd be safe... and saved.” Craig drained his mug.

Terry put out a hand and put it over Craig's hairy paw. Craig stiffened, and then relaxed and did not completely withdraw his hand.

“Did you ever hear from your family” Terry asked?

“No.” The short answer was laden with bitterness. Terry gave Craig's hand a squeeze.

“I promised myself that I would not get involved with any of this again. Please don't think it's anything y'all did, or that you aren't attractive. You are, if you can accept my word for that. You're as handsome as all hell, talented, and you have a nice, easy way about you. You seem like a good person... it's... it's just me.”

Terry struggled to get up with the cane and motioned Craig back in his seat. He shoved his chair over so it was next to Craig's and sat back down.

“Listen to me. I know we've just met, and you really don't know that much about me. But I think you develop an instinct for how people are, especially if you're gay and you're trying to pass. You say you think I'm a good person. Well, accept that for a moment and believe what I am going to say.” He put his hand on Craig's thigh, felt the solid muscle and warmth, and the flinch.

“Oh, please.... don't.” He looked steadily at Craig. “There is nothing wrong with who and what you are. I'm not a religious person, but I worked with a client once who said, 'I'm fine the way I am, God doesn't make junk'. I think there's a lot of wisdom in that. If you believe in a God that directs all creation, then that God made you. You are right and natural. You are the way you were meant to be.”

“I wish I could believe that. But everything I've been taught tells me its wrong.”

“Taught by whom?'

“My dad, and my mom. And the church.”

“Ah. The man that knocked you out, the one who dragged you out and threw you into a car; the woman who conspired with him to kidnap you, the people who incarcerated you in what amounts to a fundamentalist gulag and drove off and left you there. Those people.” Terry looked at Craig's handsome bearded face. “Do you really think they are the voice of God?”

Craig was silent.

“Look inside yourself. You've had some experiences, one just a few minutes ago. What does your body tell you, what does your mind tell you? When are you happy?”

Craig struggled to speak. “When I'm with.... with guys, I guess.”

“When do you feel most sad or alone?”

“When I was home, in the bedroom, wondering, knowing someone was listening or watching... waiting for me to do something bad.”

Do you think your God, any god worth his salt, wants his creations to be miserable? I think everything on earth, gays included, sex included, was put here for a reason. Not everyone is good, and not all things that happen to people are good. But we all have the potential to live up to our possibilities. You've overcome some pretty harsh treatment and turned out to be a decent guy.”

“OK. It's hard for me to think that way, but I can see some of what y'all are saying. But queers aren't natural, are they? I mean, what about kids?”

“You notice any shortage in the world's population lately, Craig?” Terry sipped his coffee, then continued. “Look, you don't think that someone with blue eyes is 'unnatural', do you? But they aren't the norm.” Terry paused. “Not everyone gets married. Not everyone who does has children. Even in the animal world, there is room for variation. 'Natural' covers a lot more ground than we admit. All I'm trying to get across is that you are as natural as anyone else, you have as much right to happiness as anyone else.”

There was a long pause. “I guess I've got some thinking to do. Can I make y'all a deal?” Terry nodded. “I'll stay and work with you, exercises and therapy and such, get your leg back to full mobility. I'm a damn good PT, I can do that. In exchange, you and I talk a lot more about this. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Healing Bears - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The next morning, Terry woke with the sheets stiff and stuck to his chest fur. He carefully loosened them and folded them back. He was in the process of working his good leg out from under the covers preparatory to inching his bad one out when Craig appeared at the door.

“Y'all manage that?” he asked.

“Yeah, I can. Takes time, it's always stiffest in the morning, but it gets better.” Realizing that what he just said could be taken more than one way, he colored a bit. He looked at Craig and saw the faintest ghost of a smile at the corners of his mouth.

“Well, let's get you up and about. Looks like I might have to do some laundry.”

Terry went a bit redder, but Craig brushed it aside. “No problem. Hell, I don't imagine y'all had much privacy in the hospital, for all they call them 'private rooms'.”

“You got that right,” Terry said ruefully. “I felt like I was going to bust.”

“Well, I've got breakfast started and I imagine you need to hit the can. After breakfast, we can work on a shower.” Craig raised Terry up and braced him, and then handed him a cane. “Use this to steady yourself, but still put however much weight y'all need to on me.”

Together they made their way to the bathroom and Terry peed with less help this time; and brushed his teeth, bracing himself with his left hand while Craig stood close by if needed. Then it was out to the breakfast nook clumping along with the cane on one side and Craig on the other. Terry sat while Craig finished the food prep. Once the eggs, bacon, toast and fruit had been consumed, Craig helped Terry up and they hobbled back into the bathroom. Craig eyed the shower, and Terry caught his glance.

“Sorry. That was one of the sacrifices when I worked on the place. I lost a full size tub in here to get some space in the kitchen, so there's only a shower. I'm afraid it isn't very big. Do you think we can manage it? I've had my fill of sponge baths, and I know I must stink.” 'Not to mention the cum residue,' he thought silently to himself.

“I think we can manage. It will be tight, but the real problem will be slipping. Y'all should have friction strips on the floor... the marble looks nice but its slick as hell when it's wet. You want to shave first, or after?” Craig asked.

“No shaving... I'm letting the beard grow back. I feel naked without it. They had to shave my face in the hospital for the surgeon.”

“OK. You step in, I'll follow. Y'all brace yourself against the wall and hold on to the handles until I'm in and have you, OK?”

Terry nodded and began the process of stripping, pulling off his sweat top. Craig held him while he dropped his sweat pants and then stepped inside the shower. Craig stripped down to his boxers and stepped in beside Terry. Craig was covered in blond hair from his bushy red-blond beard to the tops of his fur-covered feet. Broad shoulders were covered with fur, but there wasn't much of a taper to his body. The middle was very thick, and sported a pleasing swell of belly. A muscled butt led to thick legs and calves. Not bodybuilder toned or ripped, but solid. Golden fur covered most everything, effectively concealing his nipples and navel. Terry stared openly at the big man's fur-covered torso. “Damn.”

Craig looked embarrassed and said, “Yeah. Son of Sasquatch. If it bothers you, I can put on a tee.”

“Oh, no! No! I didn't mean.... I mean....” Terry stammered. “It doesn't bother me at all. I think a guy should be hairy. I mean, a real man should....” 'Shut up, shut UP!,' he thought, 'you're making it worse. He'll freak.'

This time, Craig looked quietly at Terry with an almost appraising look. Their eyes held for an instant, then he said, “Go ahead and adjust the water how you like it.”

Terry did so, and reached for the soap. Craig said, “I really should hold you... I'm still worried about you slipping or losing your balance. Here, turn a bit, face away from me.” Terry felt Craig's arms go around him in a hug from behind and tighten slightly, supporting him.

“If there were more room, y'all could sit on a stool and do this yourself, but I think this is safer. I'll hold, y'all just clean where you have to. When you're ready, let me know and we'll turn you towards me.”

Terry concentrated on soaping up and getting clean. It felt truly wonderful to be able to clean himself properly. He scrubbed his pits and his crotch carefully, and worked up a thick lather in his chest fur to clean the cum out of it. As he leaned forward slightly to soap his crotch a second time, he thought, no, knew he felt Craig's cock press against his butt through the sopping wet boxers. 'Well,' he thought to himself, 'it would be hard not to. He's a big boy and this shower IS small.'

He straightened up and told Craig he wanted to turn. “Wait. Give me the soap and I'll do your back.” Craig took the soap and lathered Terry's back thoroughly, stopping just above his butt. “OK, turn slowly.”

Terry rotated carefully while Craig maintained his hold on his middle. It was awkward, but surprisingly intimate. When he was facing Craig, Terry said, “Can you hand me the soap?”

Craig nodded and handed the bar to Terry, who tried to reach behind himself to clean between his cheeks. He struggled to reach but failed. Craig noticed this and cleared his throat.

“I know its weird, but that's one of the things I'm here for. I can do that for you until you can manage for yourself. It's no problem.” He paused and waited for Terry's reply.

“I guess you'll have to, I can't quite reach yet.” He handed the bar of soap to Craig.

Craig turned Terry around and told him to brace against the wall with one hand and to put the other arm around his neck. “Keep both feet on the ground, but don't put your weight on the bad one.” He stooped down just a bit and once he was sure Terry was steady, he worked his soapy paw up in between the injured man's butt cheeks. He cleaned thoroughly and worked down the backs of Terry's thighs as well, knowing he couldn't reach there safely, either. Terry did his best not to gasp out loud when he felt Craig's paw so close to his asshole, but he still emitted a muffled sound.

“Damn. We need a hand held shower head. Well, I''ll rinse you the best I can . Can you still hold here?”

Terry nodded. Craig cupped his hand and splashed water up against Terry's butt. He worked rinse water in several times, and then told Terry to turn so the shower head could rinse his back. Terry didn't move.

“Come on, man, I need you to turn so I can rinse you.” Craig waited, but still Terry didn't turn.

Craig straightened up and took Terry's arm, but Terry shook his head. “I can't.”

“Y'all got a cramp? Muscle spasm? Here, lean on me and we'll get you out and sitting down.”

“No. that will only make it worse,” Terry said, almost desperately.

“I don't underst....” Before Craig could finish, Terry turned mutely around.

Part way through the turn, Terry's erect cock hit against Craig's wet, fabric-covered crotch, rubbing against Craig's own bulge. The rock hard cock was pointing up at a sharp angle, drooling precum; but the drooling was not that noticeable, being washed away with the shower water. What was noticeable was the ashamed look on Terry's face as he looked up at Craig.

The water poured down over both of them, plastering the bigger man's fur against his body and turning its golden color to a darker, almost brown, color. The sound of the water was magnified by the hard walls of the shower and at the same time muffled by the bulk of the two wet bodies standing together. Craig looked down and saw as well as felt the rigid cock poking at his crotch. He felt his own meat stir. As Terry closed his eyes against the fall of the water, he leaned down and kissed the man firmly. He circled his arms around the soapy body and hugged, and felt Terry do the same, tightening; changing what started as a gentle kiss into one filled with passion.

Terry's heart started hammering and his cock grew even more engorged and rigid than it had been moments before. He hugged tighter and and began to extend his tongue when Craig suddenly went rigid and pushed Terry back.

“We can't... I can't do... we've got to stop.” Craig reach and pulled Terry's arms from around his middle and stepped back as much as the small shower stall allowed. “I'm so sorry. That shouldn't have happened. Here, I'll step out and help you out.”

Craig did so and helped a very confused and disappointed Terry out of the shower and handed him a towel.

“I'll go get my things and be out of here as soon as I can arrange with the service for a replacement to be here. I'll stay until they get here.” Craig made a hurried exit.

Terry reached for the cane and tried to clump to the doorway. “Craig! Wait! Please, wait up. I can't ...” Terry impatiently pushed his complaining knee and leg forward and reached for the cane. “Craig!”

He painfully hobbled slowly down the hall, dripping. He reached the door of the small office/bedroom and saw Craig stuffing clothes into his duffel. “Please, tell me what's wrong?”

“What's wrong? That was grossly unprofessional on my part, that's what's wrong. You loose your license for stuff like that, that's what's wrong.” He angrily shoved a jacket into the duffle and zipped it shut.

“Please. I have to sit. Wait.” Terry sank into the chair and faced the angry large man. “This isn't about 'professional'. What kind of a shit do you think I am? That I would call some office and file a complaint on you? Is that what you think?” Anger and concern and fear were all competing in Terry's brain for a voice. Craig stood, mute.

“Well, do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you think I would do something like that to you?” Terry glared at Craig, then softened his look and voice. “Do you?” he asked again, quietly.

Craig slowly shook his head once. The duffle remained in his hand.

“Craig, please... sit down and talk to me. Whatever was wrong, whatever happened in there, we can take care of. “ Terry waited for Craig's response. “Please?”

Craig lowered the duffle to the carpet and sat on the desk chair. “I don't know what happened to me. I've never done anything like that before. I should never have done that.”

“You mean kiss me? Why not? You knew I was gay. I certainly didn't object. You seemed to like it, too; hell, I felt you cock trying to bust out of those shorts.” The wet boxers were soaking through the jeans Craig had hastily pulled on.

“It was wrong. I was taking advantage.” Craig stopped then started again in a rush. “It was wrong, don't y'all see. Wrong for me. I never... oh, hell, this is all WRONG! I promised...”

Terry suddenly thought he understood. “Oh, my God, you've got a partner. Oh, Craig, I didn't know. I AM sorry. Aww, geez, this is my fault, not yours. Here I was, fantasizing, and you were monogamous.” Terry took a breath and was about to say something else when he noticed that Craig was red in the face.

“No, no! That's not... I mean.... I'm not really gay, not now, I mean. I mean, I don't have a partner or anything like that. It's just that I pro... Shit, I'm making a mess of it. I'll go cal the service.” Craig angrily rose.

“Craig, stop it. Don't call the service. I want you to stay. Whatever the problem is, we'll work it out.” Terry reached for the cane and knocked it over. “Damn! Craig, help me up and we'll go to the kitchen and make some coffee and talk this out. Please.”

Craig relented and extended his arm to Terry and hauled him upright. Together, they hobbled down the hall to the kitchen.