Page 19 of Bear With Me

A flash of hurt crossed Bjorn’s face, but before Dennis could react to it, it had been cleared away and replaced with a challenging smile. “Oh, you’re not getting rid of me that easily,” Bjorn assured him. “Even if you don’t want to be my mate, I still want to be your friend.”

“You don’t even know me!” Dennis protested, throwing up the hand that wasn’t clutching his drink.

Bjorn shrugged. “Big flashing red arrow from the fates, remember? We’re compatible, whether as mates or friends. Though,” he added, eyes darting away, “I don’t usually want to kiss my friends as bad as I want to kiss you.”

Gulp. At least he wasn't the only one. Dennis forced a laugh he wasn’t feeling. “How many of those beers have you had?” he tried to tease, but it came out sounding a bit plaintive.

Bjorn glanced down at his bottle. “Only the two. I assure you, I’m entirely sober while standing here stating that I both like you and would like to kiss you. But no obligation,” he added hastily when Dennis opened his mouth. “Just…sharing my feelings. For the sake of full disclosure.”

Dennis shut his mouth, then sighed and took another sip of his drink. Just as he was doing that, someone bumped his elbow, hard, and jolted his arm. A little wave of Jack and Coke jumped out of the glass and onto his collar and Dennis yelped reflexively.

Before he could react any further, he was yanked behind Bjorn, Bjorn’s clothing burst apart, and a growling brown bear stood in front of him, facing the terrified-looking guy who had presumably been the one to bump him.

Well, shit. This had been what happened in his own bar when shifters came in with their mates: shifted chaos. Dennis patted Bjorn’s hairy shoulder soothingly. “Hey, it’s fine, big guy. I’m fine. No harm, no foul.”

Bjorn directed a quick snarl over his shoulder at Dennis and then focused on the hapless bar-goer again, snarl intensifying.

Fucking men and their testosterone. With a sigh, Dennis slipped out from behind Bjorn and inserted himself between the bear and the man he was challenging, facing the human. “You’d better go,” he advised, waving a hand toward the exit. “He’s not really going to attack you -” he thought. “- but I don’t think he’ll relax until you’re away from me.”

The man huffed. “All I did was bump you! I’ve got a drink ticket to spend!”

Bjorn growled. Dennis slapped him on the shoulder reprovingly. “Down, boy.”

A loud huff from the bear, this time.

The man who’d elbowed him sighed and looked from Dennis to Bjorn for a second. “Look, just let me get my drink, and I’ll take it back to my room, ok?”

“That’s fine,” Dennis said before Bjorn could interject with any more grumbling. “Bjorn and I will just stand here. Quietly. Like civilized people who don’t hulk out at the drop of a hat.” And this was exactly what he’d been afraid of when Bjorn said they were mates: the random hulking out, the growls, the intimidation of anyone who got near him. Dennis did not need that shit in his life.

The man nodded quickly and turned his attention to the bartender. “Bulleit, on the rocks. Actually…” He glanced over his shoulder at them. “Make it a double.”

The bartender nodded and went to work, leaving the three of them standing there in uncomfortable silence broken only by Bjorn’s occasional huffs and growls.

Dennis, his hand still on Bjorn’s arm - arm? Forelimb? - gave it a soothing rub. “Why don’t you try to change back, big guy? If you’re human, we can grab a table to talk at.” Did he want to do any more talking? No, not really. But did he want to get this fucking enormous, furry, protective bear away from the bar before anyone else bumped into them? Yes, yes he did.

Bjorn wrinkled his nose and closed his eyes. Did you know bears had eyelashes? Neither had Dennis, before this very moment! If a bear could be said to be making a face of concentration, that’s what Bjorn was doing now. Trying not to hold his breath, Dennis waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Bjorn did not change. Finally, he opened his eyes and grunted something resembling a negative.

“No go?” Dennis guessed.

Bjorn shook his shaggy head.

“Damn.” He sighed. “Well, I guess we’d better head back to the room. Ain’t nobody going to serve beer to a bear.”

Bjorn looked mournfully down at the beer bottle he somehow still had clutched in his claws. He attempted to bring it up to drink from it, but succeeded only in pouring beer down his chest fur. With a growl, he tried to put the bottle down, but used too much force. It shattered against the edge of the bar, startling Dennis and everyone else within close earshot.

“Hey!” barked the bartender, looking up to see what the noise had been. “What the hell, dude?” He spotted Bjorn then and his eyes widened. “And there’s no shifting permitted in the bar area. Human only, my dude, so change back.”

Bjorn made that mournful grumble again and shook his head, which Dennis took for an expression of Would love to, buddy, but… So he took it on himself to explain: “He’s not actually able to control his shifts currently. Didn’t see this one coming. But we’ll get out of your way. Sorry about the, uh…” He gestured at the broken glass. “Mess.” And then he clamped his hand down on Bjorn’s arm and started towing him toward the doorway that led from the bar into the hotel’s lobby. “C’mon. Time to go back to the room.”

Bjorn huffed and puffed his chest like he was about to protest, but then his eyes fell on the broken bottle and he subsided and allowed himself to be dragged away. And if Dennis felt just a little absurd, at 5’11” and dragging an eight-foot bear that outweighed him by at least 600 pounds around a hotel lobby…well, that seemed fair enough.

Bjorn shifted again in the elevator on the way up to the floor, his nude form eliciting a horrified gasp from one of the elderly ladies they were sharing the elevator car with and a lascivious purr from the other one. “Oh, hel-lo, big guy,” breathed the purring lady, staring directly at his ass.