Lumberjack preschool

Kimyōna Akage (奇妙な赤毛)


Wes slid into his desk chair with only a minute to go. It took him thirty seconds to click on the bookmark labeled “.YES.” and log in, just in time for the live video feed to kick in. Like every show, “Papa Bear” was already sitting in his chair in nothing but his underwear and trademark hat, leaning back and relaxed. His grin was barely visible underneath his wide-brimmed, low-pulled cap and Wes felt his heart drop. The man was too good; Wes would easily pay to watch the man smile and hum. Luckily for him and the other viewers, Papa Bear did a lot more than just smile and hum.

“Good evening everyone,” he greeted in his watered-down French accent. Since Wes started watching the show about six months back, Papa Bear’s accent was slowly getting stronger. “You are very lucky tonight. An anonymous donor has paid for an extra for tonight’s show, so please stay a while with me.”

Wes tapped out a thanks to whoever had paid for the mysterious extra on tonight’s show. Usually it was pretty basic: Papa Bear would take his time stripping off his underwear and giving himself a thorough handjob. Depending on his mood he’d end up with a few fingers up his ass to help him along. Wes was happy with anything. Even the most vanilla shows had him sprawled out in his bed, hole aching for more as come cooled on his stomach.

“Our donor’s only request is for me to do something I enjoy but usually don’t do onscreen. I hope you enjoy.”



The alarm screaming in his best friend’s very shrill voice pulled Wes out of the hazy wet dream of thrusting into Papa Bear’s ass as he clung to an overhanging rock ledge in the nearby river. Groaning, he slapped the alarm quiet with the hand not still come-stuck to his dick before letting it fall against his eyes. Even for him the dream was a little too bodice ripper-y.

“Shiiiiiiiiit.” It was going to be a long day, he just knew it.

His dick twitched in his hand, reminding him about the dream. And the five dreams before it, with Papa Bear starring in each one. And the two-hour-long show Papa Bear did, keeping Wes up way past his usual bedtime.

“Augh,” he groaned again and began peeling his hand off his dick. “Pakshet putangina anak ka nang…

He continued to swear in Tagalog as he stumbled into the shower, while he dealt with the persistent erection, as he dressed, and still later around the homemade energy bars purchased from Cruset’s community co-op market. By the time he was within sight of the school he was a lot colder and clear-headed. Most people hated Quebecois winters, but he was grateful. The cold kept his brain active, which he needed for work. He loved his students, but with the weather keeping them inside most of the time they were starting to get cabin fever only two weeks into this year’s early snowfall. Toddlers with cabin fever was terrifying.

“WES!” A delighted scream rang out before falling apart snowballs bombarded him.

“Argh! You got me! I’m dyyyying.” He dragged out the word as he fell into the drifts on either side of the school’s sidewalk. He barely sank into the snow before three brightly colored marshmallows landed on him. He feigned a groan and went limp. They sank further into the drift with their combined weight.

“Nooooooo! Come back Wes! Come back!” All three kids on him shouted at him over and over, tugging at his parka as best they could with their mittens.

He pretended to be dead for a few moments before grabbing all three into a bear hug and jumping out of the snow roaring. The kids — Corine, Jonah, and Thierry, he recognized now — screamed gleefully as he shook them. Their parents, laughing, waved goodbye as they trudged towards their jobs.

“Okay, okay! Enough playing, everyone inside,” Angela called from the door. She was only in her down jacket, so sticking her head outside must have been freezing. As Wes put the kids down she added, “Not you, Abominable Snowman. We have kids are coming in groups via sled.”

“Can I at least get something hot to drink?”

“Get the rest of our class here and I’ll think about it.” Wes grinned at the shut door and stamped his feet. For a local, Angela didn’t like cold weather. It worked out since he, for a Filipino — albeit a Filipino born in Vancouver — loved cold weather. Getting outside duty also meant he didn’t have to get the kids out of their winter gear. At his students’ age, they barely knew how to dress themselves, and they often hindered the process rather than helping. If Angela wanted him to stay outside, he’d gladly stand out in the cold.

The sound of a snowmobile’s engine with a layer of children squealing on top heralded what turned out to be the first sledful of kids. Older siblings held his students in their laps, keeping them in place as the snowmobile slowed. The moment their brothers and sisters set them on the ground they were running towards Wes with arms open for hugs. Each of them got a spinning hug that hurried them towards the door where Angela herded them inside. Once the first batch of kids got inside she set out a steaming mug of black tea sugared enough to jumpstart a hibernating bear. Cupping it as best as he could with his mittens, he breathed in the maple syrup and sipped until the next sled of students arrived.

When the third snowmobile laden with children was empty, the driver pulled down her scarf. “Can you wait a little longer? Vermont said he’d be behind me.”

“No problem. Drive safe, Jacqueline.” Wes waved. When he saw the snowmobile and sled turn the corner he leaned back and exhaled a large breath. “Rhaaaaawr.”

“Ah. That is what Remy means when he says you play dragon with them.”

Wes spun towards the soft chuckling to see Vermont Tessier hike his son further up. The mountain of a man that was one of Cruset’s foresters moved quietly enough that he often snuck up on Wes. He felt his cheeks heat. Vermont was hot. And among the single teachers Wes worked with, he was considered the most eligible bachelor and hottest dad. He was kind, hard-working, and despite working at the cabane a sucre, which handled the distillation of Cruset’s maple syrup and acted as a small seasonal restaurant, in the winter and working forestry throughout the year, always put his son first in everything. In short, Vermont Tessier was exactly why Wes had a dad kink and a lumberjack kink that he indulged in by watching Papa Bear’s monthly shows.

Remy grumbled, pulling Wes out of the usual blushing haze Vermont put him in. The boy usually was the one who surprised Wes most by throwing himself at the back of Wes’ knees. This time he was curled against his father.

“Hey buddy. You doing okay?” Wes leaned in to catch Remy’s attention. The boy turned and coughed in Wes’ face before burying it back into his father’s neck.

“Sorry. He had a rough night. And, if I’m honest, I did too. Remy woke up just as I was about to go to bed.”

Hand rubbing circles in Remy’s back out of habit, Wes thought a moment. “Remy’s attendance has been stellar. If you want to take him home for the day, you can.”

Vermont smiled and Wes’ heart thudded between his ears. “I would have kept him home but he did not want to miss seeing you. He isn’t running a fever.”

“Wes,” Remy sniffled and reached for him.

Wes traded his mug for Remy. Eyeing the boy, he said to the both of them, “We’ll see how we do today. If Remy isn’t feeling better he’ll go home, okay?”

Both the boy and man nodded before Vermont handed Wes back his mug. “I will be home all day. The door will be unlocked.”

Vermont smiled at Wes one more time before leaning in to press a kiss to Remy’s cheek. Once Wes and Remy were done watching Vermont trudge back home through the snow, Wes hiked him higher and headed for the school. He muttered something about leaving Angela alone too long as he opened the door to the building and heard screams. Remy tried to laugh but all he managed to do was cough into Wes’ mouth.

And Wes was completely right. Today was turning out to be a very long day. Any lessons he and Angela tried to teach didn’t last very long before the kids began pestering each other. Instead of trying to restore order, Wes and Angela pulled out every activity they could and let the kids play themselves out. The chaos finally petered out right after lunch. Once everyone was tucked into their nap mats, Angela pulled Wes close.

“I’m pretty sure Remy is sick.” Angela sighed. “He has all of the signs of having something respiratory and is only a fever away from being contagious.”

“I’m taking him home, aren’t I.” Wes reached for Remy’s snowsuit.

“Better you than me. I’ll get the baby sling; it should help with the distance.”

“Ask Marc if he can help you until I get back. I don’t want you on your own when they wake up.”

“I’ll make you a thermos too,” Angela added as her way of saying thank you, and Wes went to wake Remy up and get them both ready for the long walk to Remy’s house.


Wes knocked on the door to Remy’s house. No one answered. Waiting a moment, he knocked again, this time a little harder. When no one answered, Wes raised his hand again, but before he could knock even louder Remy coughed. This time it had a rattling quality that made Wes nervous. Wondering if Vermont was trying to catch up on lost sleep, Wes eased open the door and stepped inside.

“Hello? Mr. Tessier? I’ve brought your son ba-aaaah!” As he called out, a medium-sized dog appeared from nowhere and yowled at him. As it continued to hiss and yowl, Wes realized it wasn’t a dog but in fact a cat. A very large cat trying to chase him out of the house. Remy woke up and began crying.

Merde, Loki. J’ai juste endormi!” Wes heard Vermont call before he shuffled into view wearing nothing but a pair of flannel pajama pants. After living in Cruset for the past few months, Wes was beginning to recognize the French interspersed in the locals’ speech but not the words — one of the failings of learning French from schoolchildren. The cat chattered at Wes before making a sinuous figure eight around Vermont’s feet and padded down the hall Vermont came from.

Rocking Remy to calm him down, Wes stammered, “I…ah…I brought Remy home. We were worried that he would get worse being around the other children. They’re fit to drive anyone insane right now.”

Vermont blinked at Wes blearily before recognizing him. A bright blush lit up Vermont’s face and crawled down his throat as he ran a hand through his mussed sandy hair. Wes looked down, then away when he realized down led to a labor-toned body and a happy trail that showed off how pale Vermont’s skin got in the winter.

Reaching for Remy, Vermont smiled. “I’m sorry about Loki. He got in the habit of chasing off wild animals back in BC and he thinks anyone coming into the house is a threat.”

Remy grumbled and flailed, tangling himself up in the baby wrap. Wes used the moment to focus on the boy and not the man. “It’s okay. I didn’t expect it. Sorry about waking you up.”

Curling Remy over a shoulder, Vermont nodded to Wes’ thermos. “Can I fill that up for you? It’s the least I can do for you making the long walk out here.”


“Is coffee okay? It’s all I have at the moment.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Wes shifted his feet as he waited, trying to not look at one thing too long. He didn’t want to seem nosy. Besides, he didn’t need to add more fuel to his crush on the most eligible bachelor in town.

He stumbled from a weight pressing against his calves. Looking down, he saw Loki looking up at him demanding attention much like his mother’s cats. He reached down and scritched behind Loki’s ears. Almost immediately a chainsaw purr rumbled out of Loki. Wes chuckled. A chainsaw-purring cat for a hot forester dad. It was almost too good to be true. Then Loki trilled and trotted in the same direction as Vermont. Wes followed to see Vermont shuffle-stepping as he sang a lullaby in French to Remy while coffee brewed. Wes changed his opinion. Vermont was really too good to be true.

Sneaking back to the living room before Vermont could notice him, Wes waited there for Vermont to return. Remy was still asleep on his shoulder. He offered the thermos.

“You take your coffee and tea sweet, no milk right?”

“Yeah. How–?”

“The girls at the cabane talk about your sweet tooth.”

Before Wes could break into another blush, he thanked Vermont and with some excuse about getting back to the kids ASAP, he fled from what pretty much was the perfect man.


Remy stayed home sick for the rest of the week. When Monday rolled around he launched himself at Wes as if he hadn’t been sick at all. Something that did change was Vermont’s seeming unwillingness to leave after dropping Remy off and picking him up. It was how Wes learned that Vermont lived in British Columbia with Remy’s mother until only last year. When she left, Vermont packed up and returned to Quebec. Being in Cruset was a favor to an old friend who needed foresters and trail runners. During one of Wes’ visits to the cabane, Vermont learned that the reason why the students called Wes by his first name was no one could pronounce his surname, Pagkatipunan, and that Wes moved to Cruset because he spent summers in logging camps. Cruset was one of the few permanent forestry towns that had developing families and schools. The schools needed staff and Wes loved logging communities; it just worked out. Occasionally, when Vermont was coming off the lunch shift at the cabane a sucre he would bring Wes a cup of coffee or tea sugared to perfection. And when Vermont was unable to pick up Remy, Wes had no problem bringing the boy to the cabane or to the Tessier’s, staying until Vermont could turn his attention back to his son. Wes even became the first person that Loki let into the house without a fuss.

The easy friendship that kept growing between them had Vermont coming to Wes one day. A cold was sweeping Cruset and decimated the staff at the cabane, forcing Vermont to work a full day from open to close. With Remy’s usual sitter also sick, Wes easily said yes to watching Remy at the Tessier’s house and packed his hard drive full of children’s movies.


Sometime during Balto‘s credits Remy fell asleep, fists full of Wes’ shirt. Between Remy’s sleepy huffs and Loki settling in between his ankles with chainsaw purrs Wes fell asleep despite Lilo and Stitch’s antics. He had no idea how long they slept before the click of the deadbolt roused Loki and Wes. The cat hopped off to greet whoever entered while Wes, still half asleep, was hazily aware of what was going on.

Loki, qu’est-ce que tu fait? Il est tard. Mon dieu, c’est tard.” Wes recognized Vermont’s rumble but not the meaning of his words as he dozed off again.

Eventually the warm weight of sleeping toddler vanished with murmured French and soft footfalls. Not long after that the steps returned and a blanket came up to Wes’ neck. He burrowed deeper into the thick warmth. Wes heard a chuckle and then, unexpectedly, a callused thumb brushing his cheek. Wes reached for the hand.

“Wesley, cher, you need some sleep.”

Vermont’s voice held so much affection that Wes shook his head, keeping Vermont’s hand against his face. He cracked his eyes open and without thinking, spoke sleep-slurred and clumsy.

“Not without you.”

Through sleep-gummed eyes he watched Vermont hesitate for a moment, clearly thinking about Wes’ words, before reaching for Wes. He picked Wes up easily, moving much like how he regularly affixed Remy to one shoulder, taking him into his bedroom. Wes let him manhandle him as Vermont picked out sweats and a pair of underwear one-handed as he carried Wes. It was a novelty for Wes; with his size and muscles he hadn’t been carried in a long time. First the clothes, then Wes ended up on the edge of the bed, the latter with more care than the former. Once again Vermont’s hand found Wes’ cheek, waking him further. It was enough; this time Wes was able to meet his eyes.

“Get dressed and tucked in. I have to scrub the smell of the cabane off before I come to bed.” When Wes nodded, Vermont hesitated again before leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Ten minutes.”

When the shower started, Wes shook himself out of the blanket Vermont managed to keep on him and began to undress. His zipper caught on his hardon and instantly jolted him awake. What had happened in the past few minutes trickled through his brain and Wes found himself back sitting on the edge of the bed. Vermont’s bed with Vermont’s clothes laying next to him. Said clothes that should have gone with Vermont when he went into the shower. His cock throbbed, demanding attention from the man showering.

Instead of thinking about how messy the entire situation could become — with him being Remy’s teacher and Vermont being Remy’s dad — Wes hastily stripped and put on the smallest looking pair of sweats. Vermont had a few inches on Wes in height and size but they fit pretty well. Reaching for Vermont’s sweats, he hid them under a pillow and leaned against it.

Fifteen minutes after Vermont went to shower he returned in nothing but a towel and a sheepish smile. The blush behind his beard was bright as his eyes searched for his clothes, eyes pointedly avoiding Wes and the tent he was clearly pitching. Wes waited until his eyes finally rested on him and crooked a finger. Vermont’s blush grew, blooming on his neck and chest as he let Wes coax him to sit beside him.

They kissed. Their first true kiss — and Wes hoped many more — was a simple touch of lips. It was gentle and muted, like fresh powder falling in the dead of winter. Vermont trembled and Wes smiled as he leaned back, letting Vermont fall into him. Somewhere in the movement Vermont straddled Wes, knees pulling on Wes’ sweats and applying pressure to his throbbing erection. Wes hissed as his fingers dug into Vermont’s thighs finding nothing but solid muscle. The air lost in this hiss returned in his gasp when Vermont shifted and the towel loosened enough to fall open. Vermont, at the moment nibbling on Wes’ jaw looked down. His eyes were still on the straining erection when he smiled at him.

“May I?” Wes nodded vigorously, tongue stuck in his throat as Vermont tugged the sweats down enough to free his cock. Needing no encouragement, Vermont bent and ran his tongue along the underside of Wes’ cock. It jumped, bumping the head against his teeth. Wes tried to apologize, but it died in this throat when Vermont scooted back a little more and swallowed his cock.

Objectively, it was the best blowjob of Wes’ life. Subjectively, it was the best blowjob of Wes’ life. Vermont didn’t use any fancy techniques, just a persistent tongue on his cock and plenty of spit and suction. Over and over, much like an axe chopping at a tree, Vermont went down on Wes’ dick, slowly drawing out Wes’ need to orgasm. Somewhere in all of this, Wes managed to gasp out how close he was and Vermont quickly pulled off his dick with an obscene pop.

“Not yet. Je veux…I need you inside me.”

Remembering to breathe, Wes managed to gasp out, “Y-yeah, okay. Where’s the lube? We should prep you before we, uh, yeah.”

Vermont turned shy as his flush deepened to almost blood-red. “I did that…in the shower. To take the edge off in case you didn’t want to go that far.”

Wes caught him in a hard kiss because he knew what it was like to be that desperate. When he pulled away, he rasped, “God, you’re perfect. I still want to prep you and we need condoms.”

Vermont shook his head. “Lube, fine. But no condom. I want you to fill me up.”

Wes’ brain stuttered as it processed those words. He had to confirm just in case.

“You sure?” Vermont nodded. “Okay. I’m clean, so that’s no problem. Oh god, I need lube, I need to get two fingers inside you before I get you on my dick, I don’t want to hurt you, why are you so perfect.”

Silencing him with a kiss sweeter than maple syrup, Vermont reached for the bedside table and pulled out lube. He opened it and spread some on Wes’ fingers.

S’il te plait.

Wes’ fingers shook as they slipped in between Vermont’s legs, between his cheeks and pressed at his hole. It gave quickly, fingers sliding in easily. Vermont was right, he had fucked himself on his own fingers in the shower; there were still traces of what he used, probably conditioner by the viscosity. Instead of falling down the rabbit hole of shower-related fantasies, Wes added a third finger, scissored all three, and made sure that Vermont was well and properly lubed. Vermont whined high in his throat and ground down on Wes’ hands. Taking that as a sign, Wes pulled out and discovered his dick was covered in slick already.

Vermont’s hands pressed Wes back as he crawled up higher, and with one hand holding Wes’ cock, Vermont impaled himself on Wes. It was slow, hot, and obscenely tight. Vermont smiled.

“It’s been a while since I had a real dick inside me. I hope you don’t mind if I indulge myself.”

Wes grabbed his thighs and thrust up, hard. Vermont’s head fell back, a shout catching in his throat before letting his weight follow after Wes’ thrusts. Paying Vermont back for the blowjob, Wes kept a steady pace that had Vermont arching backwards, hands matching the grip on his thighs. Bending his knees to get more leverage and righten Vermont a little, Wes kept going, determined to pull every sound he could out of him.

It didn’t take long for Wes to hit his limit. Swearing briefly and quietly — Remy’s room was right next door — in Tagalog, his thrusts lost tempo and he slammed up into Vermont as he pulled him down onto his cock. Vermont shuddered as Wes continued to come inside him. When the aftershocks of orgasm finally died down, Wes cracked open an eye to see Vermont still hard, cock bouncing with the twitches rippling through his abs.

“You didn’t come?”

Vermont shook his head, small smile playing across his lips. “I am waiting. I said I want you to fill me up.” He wiggled his ass with the last words. Wes’ spent cock twitched in interest.

“You’re going to kill me,” Wes groaned, body already responding, utterly ignoring its refractory time.

“You are young. This won’t kill you.” Vermont rose and turned, on all fours. “Now fuck me.”

Getting onto his knees took Wes a moment, the lightheaded feeling of afterglow slowing his movements. Stroking himself to speed up his growing erection, he leaned down and sank his teeth into the top curve of Vermont’s left butt cheek. Vermont gasped and pressed into Wes’ teeth while muttering something in French. Wes couldn’t tell if it was begging or swearing, and he was okay with it.

Lining his dick up at Vermont’s hole, Wes decided to tease him a little. Vermont’s ass was clenched tight to hold the come inside him, so Wes teased at the tight hole with his dick, smearing come around and down Vermont’s crack. It only took those first few teasing brushes before Vermont’s ass loosened and Wes sank into him a second time. One of Vermont’s hands found the back of his thigh, holding him balls-deep inside Vermont. Moving from that position had abrupt thrusts rocking them forward and back on the bed as Wes felt rather than heard the squelch of his dick stirring the come inside Vermont. Vermont moaned into the duvet, long and low and muffled, a hair-trigger for the half-formed orgasm building in Wes. Pressing against his ass so hard that he hoped his hips left marks, Wes came again.

Whimpering against Vermont’s spine, Wes felt Vermont’s fingers sink into his hair, stroking and soothing, clear praise in his words even though at this point Wes was sure he had no brains. No white matter, no grey matter, nothing. It was all inside Vermont and the man could keep it for all he cared.

“One more. You’re doing so good and I’m almost full.”

Wes gasped out something about not being able to do it. It was automatic, no thought for the worlds tumbling out of his mouth. Shushing him lovingly, Vermont tipped them onto their side and once again straddled Wes. It was deja vu, Vermont going down on him, this time deep throating him until he was fully hard and then sinking onto Wes’ cock. When Wes tried to reach for Vermont’s dick, Vermont caught his hands and pressed them into the bed.

“Let me,” Vermont smiled. Wes nodded and babbled about how perfect Vermont was, how he was ruined for anyone else, why are you so hot, it’s unfair. He couldn’t tell what language he was speaking, and Vermont was just as incoherent, body moving solely to wring one more orgasm out of Wes. When Vermont’s words became even more broken, Wes reached for Vermont’s neglected cock. He barely got his hand around Vermont when orgasm ripped through him, come spurting. The feel of Vermont clenching down on him had him coming again, hips desperately trying to slam deeper inside. A noise rose from them, but Wes couldn’t figure out if it was one of them or both and he didn’t care.

In the silence of that final orgasm, they put themselves back together, learning to breathe again. Wes stared at the come spatter patterns clinging to Vermont’s chest hair and continued to stare even as Vermont eased himself off Wes’ softening dick. He pressed a kiss to Wes’ mouth before turning, trying to find where his towel fell in their haste.

Something about Vermont’s explosive orgasm had a thought niggling at him in the back of his head. Thinking about Vermont’s desperation to have Wes inside him and keep him inside him reminded him of something. Someone.

“You’re Papa Bear,” Wes blurted dumbly, brain too blown from consecutive orgasms to have a filter. Vermont froze, hands reaching for his discarded towel. Come oozed out from his ass, reminding Wes of that two-hour show and that his fantasies had nothing on the real thing. Though sex against a tree in the middle of the woods was still a potential, considering Vermont’s line of work.

“And?” Vermont straightened, voice casual but distant. Wes didn’t like how it sounded now. He wanted the rich voice that demanded he pound him harder back.

Brain still overheated, he continued saying the first thing that came to mind.

“Do you have plans for the holidays? My mom is sending me a turducken and I’d love to have you and Remy help eat it.” Wes thought for a moment. “I’ll give Loki a slice too.”

Dropping the towel, Vermont pressed Wes down with a hard kiss. When he pulled away Wes asked, “Is that a yes?”

“That is a ‘I hope you are ready for round four.'”

Even after Remy interrupted them and he got a knee in his stomach as Remy climbed into bed to join them, Wes took it as a yes.


A/N: I’d like to dedicate this piece to my friend Justin (ukiiukii) whose weakness is hot bara dads and willingly “suffers” through listening me talking about what I write. <3

see this piece’s entry on the Shousetsu Bang*Bang wiki.

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