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My hospital stay goes another day just to be sure there isn't any permanent damage from my 'accident'. A part of me wants to press charges but another part says I deserved it for being an asshole to Jim. I'm glad he's here.

Aside from leaving with Grace to get his truck, Jim stays with me the entire time. He leaves to bring coffee or food, but otherwise, we spend the whole time talking or just sitting together holding hands. I get really cold in here.

I'd been wrong about him. I wasn't just some good dick for him to suck, and he wasn't just 'a hole' as I so eloquently put it. I think I'll miss him when I leave. Can't stick around too long, he might get attached.

Can't risk letting him down, so I'll just let him go.

I don't want to let Jim go. I should, though; for his sake, he deserves someone good, someone who can be here for him. I'll just let him down or he'll realize I'm not enough and the thought of hurting him more is too much.

It'd be selfish of me to keep him, even though the way his paw feels around my hand is nice and warm. How comfortable his big fluffy neck is when I hug him there, and he's so adorable when he grumbles while I rub his belly and…

And I don't deserve that, he's warm and soft and gentle and kind and I'm an asshole.

“I brought you your fancy-ass coffee, Wes." Jim plops down in the chair next to my bed.

“It's not that fancy," I reply.

“S'got all that shit in it. Pumpkin and stuff. Too fancy for me."

Without thinking I reach out and hold his paw. “It's good."

“Betchyu I could make better."

“I'll hold you to it."

He squeezes my hand as we enjoy our coffee together, as much as we can in a sterile hospital room. It's way too cold in here, I scoot closer to Jim until our shoulders touch. He's like a big space heater, I just need to get warm.

Jim puts an arm around my shoulder. “Still feelin' 'chilly'?"

“Yeah." I lean into him.

“Wesley?" Jim breaks the silence once again.

I grunt.

“I–I wanna tell you some stuff." He rubs my shoulder.

“Okay."

He rests his head on mine and I bury my face in his neck. For warmth.

“Do… do you remember what I said on the way here?"

“Mmm." I shake my head.

“I don't wanna freak you out, but I jus' gotta say it 'fore I lose my nerve again." He says.

“'Kay."

“I love you, Wesley."

My heart stops. I thought I imagined that. It seems too good to… Not good, just wrong. How could he love me after all these years? After how I treated him while I've been here? No, he's mistaken.

“Jim,"

“I ain't finished!" He pulls me into his neck scruff. “Wes, would you, jus' while you're here… be my, uhm, my b-boyfriend?"

I pull away and look into his big, green, kind eyes. “Jim, that's sweet."

“Wes I know you don't love me, but I–I dunno." He deflates and scoots away from me.

For some reason when he says that my chest aches. Regardless, I'm leaving at some point, I thought I'd be out of here by now but things have been going slow. I haven't even listed the house yet, just because it's not clean, and I don't have a plane ticket out of here either because I don't know when I'll be finished.

“Wes?" Jim clasps my hand in both paws.

I should say no. But maybe it'd be a favor for him? Right, yeah, that's what it is. Not boyfriends but maybe we can go on a date? So I can make it up to him, for being shitty. And that way when he meets a better guy he has some experience! Let's do that. For Jim.

“Jim, I don't think we should be boyfriends." I pull my hand from his paws and scratch his neck fluff. His fur is so soft.

“I–I get it W-Wesley, I–"

“I'm not finished," I smile when his eyes light up. “Maybe we could go on a date?"

Jim blinks.

“Like dinner and a movie or–"

“You serious?" He leans close, his big eyes blur out of focus as I look down his snout.

“Yeah, just get caught up and have some fun."

His wet snout pokes my forehead. “For real?"

“Uh-huh, just–Hey, what?!"

His tongue drags along my face, my cheek, and even in my hair.

“Jim! Hey!"

“You ain't gonna regret this! I been plannin' our first date my whole darn life, Wes!" He wraps both his arms around me and squeezes tight.

“Jim! I'm still–fuck–bruised!" I groan.

He reluctantly releases me. “Sorry Wes, I jus' got so damn excited!" He taps his feet on the ground rapidly. “Hoo boy! I'm gonna sweep you off your feet, jus' you wait!"

Any sliver of a bad mood melts before his joy. He stands and prances around the room, jumping up and down like a schoolboy on Christmas. Once he's calmed down he sits next to me again and kisses my cheek.

“Okay, okay, Wes can–can I ask you out?"

“Didn't we just agree to a date?."

He wrings his hat and his ear swivels. Too cute. “ I jus' wanna make up for last time I asked you t'be my boyfriend."

I frown. “You apologized, Jim."

“I had it all planned out n' stuff and I gotta ask you out for my plan!" His eyes get big and wide. God, he's cute.

“Fine, I guess."

“Hot dog!" He jumps up.

As Jim celebrates, a nurse comes in with a small pill bottle and a bunch of paperwork. The big bear blushes and sits back down. The papers are about my discharge and injuries, I'm going to throw them away as soon as I step outside the hospital, clinic, or wherever it is they took me.

Jim's arm goes back around my shoulder as the nurse explains I can't do anything 'strenuous' or risk tearing my stitches, I should avoid getting them too wet, and that the medicine is a precaution in case I have any severe pain.

Jim kisses my cheek. “I'll take care of him."

She coos when she sees Jim rub my shoulder. “All the ladies here were devastated when we learned this gentleman was taken!"

“Yep, this bears heart belongs to one man only," Jim says.

“What?"

She turns to me. “You two are such a cute couple, you're so lucky to have a boyfriend like him."

It's really hot in here all of a sudden, and the way Jim's looking at me isn't helping. He's practically bursting at the seams with giddiness. He fidgets and giggles, his smile is full and genuine and reaches his big, green, kind eyes.

“Yep! And don't you worry miss, I'll make sure he's all good n' pampered n' he takes his medicine." He rests his head on mine. “Can't have my man gettin' banged up again."

“Jim!"

“Alright if you'll come with me for a moment we can get you signed out."

Before I can get out of my bed two big arms scoop me up and carry me.

“JIM!" I bury my face in his chest, to hide my embarrassment, as a chorus of 'awws' follows us down the hall.

I'm gently let down at the front desk as Jim leaves to get the car. Thank God this mortifying experience is over at last. Why do they think we're a couple? I wonder if Jim said something to them.

“Wesley Roy Groves!" Jim's voice bellows as his truck pulls up ahead of me. He jumps out and falls to one knee removing his hat and holding it to his chest.

“Jim?"

“Wesley Roy Groves," He looks up at me. “Will you go out with me?"

Oh. “Uhm, Yeah?"

“Woo!" He hoots. “Come on, we got some shoppin' to do." He holds open the passenger door for me and helps me inside, like a gentleman.

“What are we shopping for, exactly?"

“Bait, tackle, I need a new cooler n' some foodstuff. You got more ammo at your Pa's?"

“Why do we need this stuff?"

“For our date, Wes! I thought you was smart!" He looks at me like it should be obvious. “We need some thermite and I'll borrow Daddy's trailer."

Thermite?! For a DATE?!

“Course you gotta 'pologize to my Momma, maybe she'll pack us some food." Jim continues, oblivious to my open-mouthed staring.

“Jim."

“I need to put the cover on the back of the truck, too, on account of the rain." He says thoughtfully.

“Jim."

His ears go flat. “You're right, Wes, we should do all the cookin', don't wanna put Momma out and fresh-cooked is the best. More romantic, too. I have a little gas stove,"

“Jim, why do we need thermite?!"

“I think I got some in the shed, maybe your Pa does too."

“That can't be safe."

“We-Wesley! You horndog. Do you think we need condoms, I know it's safer but," He drums his thick fingers on the steering wheel. “I jus' always imagined my first time would be, uhm, all-natural but I know you been with other guys like that b'fore."

“No Jim I–"

“I'm glad you think so, Wes." He smiles at me as he starts the car. “S'more romantic that way!"

“No, Jim why do we need–"

“Hell, I think I lent my fishin' rod to my cousin Joey. Shit he lives in Oakbend!" He frowns.

“WHY DO WE NEED THERMITE?!" I shout, seeming to shake him from his daydreaming. He's almost as bad as his mom.

“Huh? Whaddya mean?" He asks.

“We're going on a date," I say.

“Mhm."

“So why do we need thermite?"

“To blow up my old couch n' dresser, o'course." He says calmly, like he was talking about picking flowers.

“That's part of our date… because?" I ask.

“Don't you 'member bein' boys n' blowin' up old furniture?" His eyes are pleading. “I just wanna do all the stuff we used to do…"

“I'm not saying no, Jim, I just wanted to know!" I laugh, thermite did make for a fun afternoon most of the time. “What else you got planned?"

“Campin', Fishin', Shootin', and Kissin'!" He declares.

For the briefest of moments, I'm glad I came back here. “Perfect."

We stop at a few stores and I follow behind him and I watch his tail wiggle. It's not the only thing that bounces as we walk around, his ass fills out his jeans perfectly and I can't help but wonder if he's wearing a jockstrap because of how shapely it is. Two big, fuzzy, round buttcheeks that wobble slightly with each step. Mmf!

I'll be his first, making the prospect of getting my hands on that magnificent bottom all the more appealing. Does he want it rough, or gentle for his first time? I bet I could make that bear–

“Wesley Groves!" Jim says. “Are you starin' at my behind?!"

“I–"

“Good." He winks. “Come on, the sooner we get packed the sooner you can pack me, if ya know what I mean." He throws something in the cart and playfully shakes his butt at me.

God, he's cute. But given all he's put into the cart I'm not sure how long he expects this date to last. Not that I don't like Jim, I do, but is he planning a multi-day adventure? Camping like that would be really relaxing, and maybe I need a break like Mrs. Park said, but can I afford to take one?

“I dunno about camping, Jim, I got a lot to do at the house."

“Nuh-uh! Doc says you can't do no labor for a few days."

“I'm fine, I can move some boxes, Jim."

“Nope, I'm pamperin' you." He says.

After all of our shopping is done we stop by Dad's for ammo and a couple of guns. Each of the firearms holds some memory for me, making it hard to bring any of them. Eventually, I settle on a shotgun and that obnoxious AR Dad had for some reason, It'll be better for blowing shit up.

Never was a fan of rifles like that. Useless for hunting and you don't shoot em' for competition, but at least we'll be doing something with it. I guess. I'll probably sell it when I sell the house. I'll keep the shotguns, though. Not because it's sentimental but because it's nicer than the one I own.

When we turn down the dirt road to Jim's Parents' place I become even more glad to have guns on me. I'm not looking forward to this encounter with Sheriff Park after the psychopath nearly killed me.

Even if a small part of me says I deserved it.

“Momma, Daddy!" Jim yells as he runs through the rain to the house. “Can I borrow the trailer and some stuff for campin'?"

I follow him inside. Will they still be pissed at me? Many of the people around here subscribe to 'an eye for an eye', so we might be even. Especially if I apologize to Jim and his mom. I'd like an apology from his dad, but I know it's unlikely.

Before I can open the door Jim swings it open and pulls me inside. “Wesley! You're gonna catch your death, get inside."

“Jim, my arm still hurts," I say.

Jim herds me to the living room. “Momma, Daddy, Wesley is here to apologize."

Best to get this over with. “Mister and Missus Park, I'm sorry for how I behaved. It won't happen again, and I've learned my lesson."

“Thank you, Wesley, I understand you're going through a hard time." Mrs. Park smiles.

Jim puts his arm around me and puffs out his chest.

“You're welcome," I say.

Sheriff Park looks unimpressed.

“Momma, Daddy, me n' Wes are goin' on a date!"

“That's nice, cubby." Mrs. Park goes back to knitting. “Maybe you can get Wesley to settle down and adopt some babies together."

Jesus Christ. I bury my face in Jim's side and try to vanish, he just laughs it off.

“You are, are you?" Sheriff Park's voice reminds me of the day he tried to kill me in his car. “Jim, I'd like to talk to Wesley."

To my surprise, Jim growls. “Not unless you're gonna apologize."

“Excuse me, boy?"

“You hurt him real bad, and that ain't right."

“He can't talk to you–"

“He apologized That's the end of things far as I see it." He pulls me close. “Now you gotta apologize, too, Daddy."

There is a long pause and I can't bring myself to look at Jim's parents.

“Alright." Sheriff Park says.

I reluctantly turn toward him.

“Wesley, I'm sorry." He says.

“Thank you, Sheriff–"

“You can call me James or Daddy, Wes."

Uhhhhhh.

“Seein' as you n' my boy are in love with each other–"

“They make a nice couple, James. Wesley is a good man. He just needs–"

Uhhhhhh.

“The nurses said the same thing, Momma! I told em–" Jim laughs.

“I don't know about 'in love'," I try to inject, but it's lost in their voices.

All of my attempts to parse their conversation fail, and I'm pretty sure it isn't just because I had only recently recovered from a concussion. More than once I think Jim's parents mention adoption and marriage, while Jim insists we're just dating.

Eventually, their chatter dies down and Jim hurries off with his Mom to pack our cooler for camping. He kisses me on the cheek before he leaves and I can't help but smile back at him when I meet his big, green, kind eyes.

“Not sure about 'in love', huh?" Mr. Park asks.

“We're just going on a date, Sheriff– James."

“I ain't that old, and I ain't that stupid. I see how you're lookin' at my boy, how he looks at you." He steps closer and glares down at me.

Oh God, what did I do?! I'm pretty sure I wasn't looking at his ass. Oh no, did I stare at his tits?! Dammit, I–

“Just cause you're not ready to admit it, don't make it false." He claps one paw on my shoulder, sending a jolt of pain through me. “Sorry, Wes, I shoulda given you a chance to explain. Me n' the missus have had our share of fights."

“Right." What is going on?! I don't love Jim! He's nice, but… I… I don't love him. I just miss him when he's not around, and I like how he laughs, and I lov–I LIKE his big, green, kind eyes.

And he's warm! That's all there is to it, he's warm.

“Now if you really do hurt my boy, Wesley, know that I'll kill you," James says.

“Uh. I'll keep that in mind." I'd zoned out for most of the conversation.

“Now have a seat, the missus will get you some tea while Jim and I pack the trailer." He guides me to a recliner.

I don't love Jim. I just like him, as a friend. I'm just in an emotionally vulnerable place.

Right?

Fuck.