Chapter 4

Rusty was lost in thought as he slid the casserole in the oven. Closing the oven door, he stood, musing about their home. 'It really has turned out nicely,' he thought, remembering the transformation the old building had gone through. He padded into the living area, wine glass in hand, contentedly gazing around him. Sipping wine, he was lost in thought.

- - - - - - - -

After the two bears had purchased the building and were deep in planning the modifications to the downstairs retail area, Rusty had called Mitch and Walt with the news about their prospective new lives and location. Vic had gotten on the phone and listened to the obvious excitement in the bears' voices. “Sounds like you two have things well in hand... or paw, as the case may be.” he said with a chuckle. He thought for a moment while Mitch and Moose exchanged news. “Tell you what. Don't sign with a contractor just yet. I've got some guys in mind. They live not far from you and they do good work. I'll give 'em a call and see if they'd like to take on your job.”

“Bears?” Moose asked.

“Of course!” Vic had growled.

Two weeks later, Vic had called back and confirmed that Ron and his Bear Crew would be happy to take on the rehab of the building. “Be prepared, guys. They work real fast, so be sure all your plans are ready to go, permits and such. Ron'll probably bring a small crew with them, not everyone. Three weeks from now OK with you guys?”

“Uh, sure, I guess so,” Rusty had said, a bit taken back by the speed with which things were moving. “I still have to order the sinks and counters for the coffee shop, though.”

“One of Ron's workers does stainless steel welding. I'll give you the email addy. Just shoot him measured drawings of what you need and he'll have it fabricated and ready to install. Give you a good price, too.” Vic grinned over the phone. “Told ya bein' a bear was a good thing!” He was laughing as he hung up. Rusty put down the receiver and went to tell Moose of the impending invasion.

Plans, changes and suggestions had flown back and forth over the next two weeks. It took remarkably little time to firm up plans that had been discussed and thought about for months and even years before actually being set down on paper. About a week before work was to begin, a fat mailing tube arrived.

“Bear Crew Construction.” Rusty had read off the mailing label. “What do you suppose ...?”

“Open it, open it!” Moose said from his chair in the hotel room they had rented long term.

“Norman, you are worse than a kid at Christmas.” Rusty said but his own hands were eagerly tearing at the mailing tape. He had pulled the rolled sheaf out of the tube. “Oh, look! It's the final plans and drawings.” He'd spread them out on the small kitchenette table. Moose got up and looked along with Rusty. On the table were detailed floor plans and renderings in colored pencil of each room, showing each wall. The drawing was precise and almost elegant.

“Someone's got talent.” Moose said, nuzzling at Rusty's neck.

“It looks like they've gotten everything just the way I asked for, the kitchen and storeroom at the back of the coffee shop side. Here, the connecting hall from the garage so we can park and take the groceries up the back stairs unobserved from the shop. Are you pleased with what they've got for your side of the building?” Rusty asked, looking at Moose.

Moose nodded. “I like what they did with the waiting room area, see?” He pointed to the rendering for the physical therapy office. He squeezed Rusty. “When are they supposed to start?”

“Monday next, if we approve of the plans, Ron said.”

“Wow. Well, the sooner, the better. I'm getting tired of this dinky bed and that TINY tub and shower! Besides, every time we fuck, the bed squeaks.”

“We could fuck on the floor,” Rusty said with a chuckle. Moose reached for Rusty's zipper and tugged at it.

“Ah, to hell with the neighbors. If they can't take squeaka-squeaka noises in a hotel, they should get earplugs or move! I mean, what do they expect...hymns?” He pushed Rusty back onto the bed and tugged his pants off, then shed his own. “Ah, you sure are a handsome fucker, you know that?” He leaned down and engulfed Rusty's now-straining cock in his warm mouth. The bed obligingly squeaked.

Early the following Monday morning, Rusty suddenly sat bolt upright in bed. He cocked his head as if listening intently. After a moment, he poked Moose. “Wake up. They're coming.”

A very sleepy Moose struggled to reach full consciousness. “Wha... Huh? Who?”

Rusty had tossed the sheet back and was on his feet, running his hand through his hair and almost hopping from one foot to the other. “The workers! The Bear Construction Company crew. They must have left early. They'll be here earlier.” He quickly padded over to the kitchenette and began brewing coffee and rummaging through the sink for cups.

“Yeah, it's Monday, they said they be here today... what's the rush?” Moose was still rubbing his eyes, trying to focus on the strawberry blond blur in the kitchen.

“No, I mean they must have left early, they're nearly here...” Rusty paused and cocked his head again. “Maybe ten miles away, maybe less. Three of them - no, wait... four of them. We have to hurry if we're going to meet them when they get to the place.” Rusty returned to the coffee.

“You do know that's weird, don't you; the way you sense other weres?” Moose kicked the rest of the covers off the bed and stood up, scratching the thicket of auburn fur on his belly and crotch. “You better be careful. Some people might want to burn you at the stake.” Moose's face was serious but his eyes twinkled with humor.

Rusty looked over his shoulder at his large companion. “Hey! My talents have come in handy as I seem to recall; on more than one occasion, and even if it doesn't always work.” Rusty stuck out his tongue at Moose, who was heading to the bathroom.

“Yeah,” Moose called out as he arched his back and stretched, pissing into the toilet. “OK, Mr. Useful, tell me this... do I have time for a shower before they get here?” Moose flushed and stuck his head out of the tiny bathroom.

“I think so. They aren't getting closer. I'll bet they're looking at a map. If you hurry, I can get a shower, too.” Rusty poured the coffee into two mugs. Meanwhile, Moose turned on the shower, muttering about werebears with esp and whistling the theme from The Twilight Zone.

An hour later, two still slightly damp but eager bears pulled up in front of their new property and got out, just as two large trucks with 'Bear Crew Construction Co.' lettered on the side pulled up in the alley behind Moose and Rusty's building. A few minutes later, a beat up Ford 250 towing a new-looking trailer pulled up as well. All three vehicles had the same logo, a huge standing grizzly bear wearing a tool belt and holding a hammer in one paw. Four enormous men had tumbled out. A tall, wide, black bearded mountain stuck out a fur-covered paw and shook Rusty's hand.

“I'm Ron.” Ron’s hair and beard were curly and what showed of his chest and arm fur was dense and curly, too; and just as dark. “You must be Rusty. Vic said to look for a lil' red-blond guy but you ain't so little, now, are you!” The cigar he was chewing glowed red and moved over to the other side of his mouth. He looked at Moose, who had just come through the back door into the alley.

Well, woof-DA! You gotta be Moose. I'm Ron.” He shook paws with Moose and winked at Rusty. “Gotcherself a big fucker, don'tcha?” He laughed out loud and walked into the building as the others followed, introducing themselves.

A much shorter but just as wide, bearded fireplug said, “I'm ‘Dwarf’, mah real name is George, the kid here is Max, that big ugly brute over there is Gus.” Gus grunted and heaved up on the roller door on the back of the truck he'd climbed out of. He began tossing pieces of equipment to George and Max, who carried them inside.

For the next four hours, the four big men had hauled tools and equipment into the empty space that would be transformed into a coffee shop and physical therapy office. Rusty and Moose had stood back and watched in amazement as the big men hefted studs, sinks, iron pipe, complete window frame units as if they were matchsticks. Moose and Rusty helped out when asked but mostly kept out of the way, recognizing the efficiency with which the crew was working.

Lunch had been ordered and picked up (“Just order for sixteen and we'll be good. Oh, don't ferget yourselves!”). Soon they were chatting away like they had known each other for years as the crew became comfortable with the owners. It was the customary way with werebears, even if Rusty and Moose were definitely the new boys on the block. They were a family within a family and each of them in fact not so distantly related to each other. Indeed, some of these bears might have been made by the same ‘Papa’ as Vic had and so were like uncles or cousins.

“You own the company, right?” Moose asked between mouthfuls of pulled pork sandwich.

“Yep, started it over forty years ago!” Ron had laid his cigar aside while he ate. Moose looked surprised.

“Forty years? But... you don't look like... like...” Moose sort of ran out of words as Ron smiled. “How old ARE you? I mean, if you don't mind?”

“Eh, no problemo.” He leaned forward and winked. “I'm 193.” He grinned as he wiped BBQ sauce off his beard with a napkin.

Moose rubbed his nose with his thumb. “I keep forgetting how long you, I mean we, I mean werebears live.”

“You must forgive Norman, Ron – he’s not as thick headed as he seems at times,” Rusty smirked.

Moose gave Rusty a 'you’re gonna get it later… and like it' look.

Ron just smiled. “Yep! Vic told me you guys were kinda new to all this. Maybe after we knock off for the day I'll tell ya how the company got started and the boys can tell you their stories. 'Cept Gus. That is one silent bear. 'Cept when he's fuckin'... he growls real loud then.” Ron grinned again and re-lit his stump of a cigar. “Time to get back to work,” he said, heaving his bulk up from the crate he'd been sitting on. “Come on, boys!”

By quitting time that evening, new walls divided the public area of the coffee shop, the counter was in and the plumbing roughed in on both sides, the electrical wiring for the overhead lights and switches was done and the stainless steel sinks and work surfaces were installed in the kitchen and waiting to be shimmed in, in the behind-the-counter area along with floor drains. “Drywall in here tomorrow, then another two days on your place, Moose. That will go faster. George can skim coat in here while we're working on your side.”

Both Moose and Rusty were frankly amazed at the speed with which crew had worked. The construction crew was sweaty from their labors but they didn't look especially tired. Rusty had asked the crew if they were planning on driving back or if they were staying in town. Moose suspected he had something up his sleeve but kept silent.

“Nah, we'll get a motel somewhere close. Take too long to drive back and forth.” Ron had lit a new cigar. Gus was smiling and looked like he was reading Rusty's mind but also kept silent.

Rusty cleared his throat. “I'd suggest the hotel we're at but I don't think they have enough vacancies.” He paused, looking around at the sweaty crew. “You know... if you like, we could all just bunk upstairs. If you like.” Rusty looked at Moose, who winked back.

Nods and smiles indicated approval from the crew. Gus and Max brought in some painter's tarps from one of the trucks. “We'll nail these over the upstairs windows, make it private like.” George and Ron fetched what looked like large quilted pads from the other truck.

“What are those?” Rusty asked.

“Originally? Pads that movers use to wrap furniture; I told the supplier to leave 'em big and just hem 'em. They come in handy for all sorts of things,” he said with a positively evil leer.

“And just how often do you have to throw those in an industrial washing machine after they’ve had some use?” Moose asked.

“It depends on how often they get used on a site without a proper bed or how strong you like bear smells.” Gus spoke up for probably the first time that day.

Ron laughed. “I had them washed before we came up… just in case. Vic told me a little about the accommodations in town. He hasn’t been by this place in twenty years and it seems it’s growed some since last he was here; still not big enough to accommodate the likes of us, though.”

Max and George had laid the stacks of pads out side by side. They were the equivalent two and a half king sized beds next to each other at the thickness of a very plush futon, plenty of room for six large bears provided they all didn’t shift into full bear form at the same time.

“The great part about being in this part of town at night is that, being mostly commercial business, we’re not likely to be overheard. Our neighbors close up shop around 8 p.m. and open around 9 in the morning,” Rusty said and then smacked his forehead. “Toiletries! I’m a terrible host! Norman, would you run downtown and grab some toilet paper, soap, brushes and toothpaste… oh and towels, pick up six.”

“We brought our kits for cleanin’ up,” George said, “but the other stuff would be appreciated.”

“Good thing you got the hot water plumbed, you've only got that little shower downstairs but we can fill one of those big galvanized wash tubs we found,” Ron said. “Hell that was the only bath tub I knew when I was a kid.”

“Yeah but you’re older than dirt,” George said.

While Moose was gone, the rest of the bears had started getting comfortable. Gus pulled out a couple of cases of beer he’d snagged at the grocery store earlier that day on lunch break and was passing the bottles around. By the time Moose had returned Rusty was being nibbled on by Gus. Moose had taken the liberty of picking up several buckets of fried chicken and the trimmings for dinner, but he supposed that dinner wasn’t what everyone had in mind at the moment. Each of the guys had a beer in their hand and Rusty was taking a swig while Gus was gently biting his neck with his hand up Rusty’s shirt, playing with his nipples.

“Mmmmmmmm… you smell like strawberries.” Gus growled.

Rusty giggled. Moose put the bags down and moved in on the other side of Gus.

“Hey, that’s my husband you’re nibbling on, mister.” Moose said with mock jealousy.

“Well he weren’t complainin’ none when I kissed him, maybe you ain’t as good a kisser as I am? Maybe your hubby needs more attention than you can give him?” Gus grinned.

“We’ll hafta see about that.” Moose pulled Gus into a passionate tongue wrestle and then broke the kiss, “How’s that for attention?”

Gus got a thoughtful look on his face, “Not bad for a beginner.”

“Beginner!?” Moose gave his best pout.

Gus smiled, “I’ve been practicin’ since afore your ma and pa were born, so take it as a compliment, kid.” He drained the bottle in his hand and returned the kiss, shifting ever so slightly into partial bear form, putting his longer tongue down Moose’s throat, tongue fucking in the way he would had it been his cock in Moose’s mouth. His amplified bear scent was making both Moose and Rusty hornier by the minute.

Moose moaned, his cock completely hard. Rusty had taken that as a cue and opened up the front of his pants and began teasing his cock while Gus continued to work his tonsils over. He pulled the jeans and shoes Moose was wearing off exposing the big bear’s bottom half.

“Damn, he IS a big boy!” Gus growled.

Rusty then lustfully engulfed Moose’s cock and took it down to the root, cupping and playing with his huge balls. Moose moaned deeply and began to shift form, his t-shirt beginning to rip at the seams as his body grew and fur began to cover it even more thickly than it already was. Within a minute or so, Moose had shifted completely to bear form, the t-shirt lay in tatters beneath him. Three years of practice had made the transformation much easier for him.

Stout and stocky Gus had removed what little clothing had remained on him and continued to shift to half form, his gray, forked beard merging with his body fur which completely hid his tattoos. Of the three, only Rusty remained clothed; a huge wet spot forming on the front of his shorts.

Ron, George and Max, all sitting nearby and watching as they gently played with various parts of each other’s anatomies, decided that it was time to get this impromptu orgy going. When it was just Gus playing nice with Rusty while they waited for Moose to get back, it was fun to watch. But now that he’d returned, each of the other bears wanted to be naked and wanted to get some part of themselves into one or more of the other bears.

Ron stripped revealing all the thick curly black fur that covered his body. He stretched and as he did so Max buried his bearded face in Ron’s thick mat of chest fur.

“I love the smell of a working man.” Max said, taking in long deep breaths.

“Me too,” said George as he raised Ron’s right arm and buried his face in his boss’s curly pit, standing on tiptoes, simultaneously tweaking Ron’s right nipple as he did so.

Ron was full on hard now and George was massaging his long thick rod as Max sucked his left nipple. “Mmmmmm… that’s fuckin’ heaven boys but maybe you two should strip so we can join the party over there.”

Max and George in turn both kissed Ron, “Guess you’re right,” Max said as he unbuckled his belt while looking over at the threesome on the makeshift bed, “I think they need some help.”

George had shucked out of his clothes quickly and the three joined in.

Moose, in full bear form, was growling softly as Rusty took his long bear cock down his throat. Gus, in half-form now, straddled the big red bear, feeding him his cock. Gus was raking his semi-clawed hands through the fur on Moose’s head and doing a bit of growling himself as he pumped his dick in and out of the bear’s muzzle.

“So, where do we begin?” George said as he rubbed his hand up and down Gus’s back, pausing to rub his furry round ears on occasion.

Gus leaned back a bit into the ear rubbing and growled gruffly in satisfaction; in bear form his ears were more an erogenous area than when human and each of the werebears knew this as it was the same for them.

Max said, “I call dibs on Gus’s muzzle!” and the young werebear moved around to face Gus, cock pointing straight at the bear’s maw. Almost savagely Gus dove onto Max’s cock eliciting an excited growl. Max took over the ear massage as he skull-fucked Gus, causing the half-form werebear to suck harder on Max’s changing cock.

“Damn but I love that!” Max said huskily.

“Come on George, let’s get Mr. ‘smells like strawberries’ here out of his clothes,” Ron said and the two began stripping Rusty.

Soon Rusty was on his back with his legs up while George’s tongue teased his anus. Ron began deep kissing the smaller bear, massaging his cock as he did so. He moved to Rusty’s cock and began sucking, massaging the balls while George continued to rim.

Shortly thereafter, Max let out a huge growl and yelled, “Fuck!” He began shooting several huge loads into Gus’s sucking muzzle. “Aw FUCK that feels good.” Max sighed as he emptied his last into his buddy’s throat. Gus just rumbled his appreciation at the feeding and licked Max’s cock and balls clean.

Ron laughed coming off Rusty’s cock, “The kid cums quickly.”

Rusty moaned and said, “So do I!” as he pumped into Ron’s massaging fist.

Gus turned and growled, “Is that little red fucker ready?”

George replied, “Yeah, I just squirted a big load of precum in his hole, you want him?”

“Hell yeah and thanks for the lube!” Gus said, then looking down at Moose said, “Why don’t you fuck my hole while I fuck your hubby, big guy?”

Moose nodded and growled an affirmative.

“God, I LOVE bein’ a bear!” Gus said and climbed off Moose.

Rusty felt the lust and desire rise in him, the scents and sounds of werebears at play tickling in his brain. He began to shift into his bear form. His body stretched to accommodate the enlarging and elongating organs and bones as creamy fur grew in, covering him. The fur almost glowed, with a faint orange tinge. His cock grew larger and more rigid as the baculum formed within and his balls grew in heft and size. His face reshaped, his nose and mouth reforming into a muzzle while his ears grew more rounded and fur-covered. His hands and feet became paw-like, with dark pads on the underside and claws growing in place of nails. As he completed his full change, Ron and his crew grew silent and stared.

“What tha' fuck...?”

“Day-om!”

“I ain't never seen anything like that before!”

Ron reached to remove his cigar, forgetting that he had long since laid it aside. “What IS he?”

“He's a werebear... a prime, 100% stud werebear and he's mine!” Moose said in the werebear tongue, his eyes shining with pride. “He's a Spirit Bear, a Kermode.”

“I've heard tell of those,” Ron growled, “but this is the first time I ever actually run into one. Thought they was a myth.”

“He's purdy!” Gus breathed, lust sparking in his eyes. “His interest's the same as when he's human?”

“You mean liking it rough?” Moose asked. “Oh, yeah.”

Rusty lifted his thick legs onto Gus's shoulders and in no time, Gus’s hard cock hammered into Rusty and the two Frenched as Gus pounded his ass. Gus and Rusty rubbed one another’s ears as they fucked.

“Mighty glad he… OOOOOF! ...” Gus was cut off in mid-sentence by the sudden intrusion of Moose’s huge bear cock into his un-lubed ass. “Ah FUCK! That feels good! YEAH!” Gus growled for a good half minute and then continued his thought, speaking to Rusty. “Your hot beast there behind me is mighty proud of how hard you take it. It shows every time he looks at you.” Gus kissed Rusty's muzzle and then said, “I like it rough, too, and said he was gonna make sure I got it.”

Moose bent forward, his arms tight across Gus's chest and began driving hard and furiously into the half-form bear. He then bit savagely into his furry shoulder and the stocky bear cried out in both pain and pleasure. Blood seeped, then slowed as the bite holes left by Moose's incisors closed.

Ron looked at the trio. “Well, shall we just form a line behind the big guy?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Max said.

Ron came up behind Moose and eased into his hole; behind Ron, Max slipped into Ron and finally George pushed himself into Max. The group moved in unison at times but mostly the rhythm was not as well timed as each of them heeded the demands of their own loins.

All six bears were now fully engaged in the orgy, the heady smell of bear fur and bear sex filled the room and the muffled grunts and growls of happy males went unheard on the street by the occasional driver passing by.

After an hour and a half of bear breeding, with the group breaking up into threes and twos, the orgy ended; each bear spent and snuggling together, playing with one another's fur. They kissed and nuzzled each other. Moose’s belly rumbled and he remembered the chicken.

“Anyone want dinner? I’m afraid it’s gone cold.”

The other bears' bellies began to rumble in sympathy with Moose's. Ron grinned, “It’s not like we’ve never had cold chicken before… or raw, for that matter. 'Course, that was warm,” he chuckled remembering a certain hen house he’d demolished during one of his first transformations in the attempt to regain some of the calories he’d lost in the change. He remembered the buckshot with which the farmer had gifted him, too; and absently rubbed his left butt cheek, “Go on an’ break it out and we’ll have dinner before we sleep.”

They passed the buckets of chicken and sides in the bowls around and within 10 minutes the meal was devoured. After some burping and a few more beers, they all finally piled together; they each shifted into half-bear form as there were no blankets. Rusty arose and went downstairs to make sure the locks on the doors were secure and then rejoined the pile of now sleeping bears.

He positioned himself between Moose and Gus, kissing his husband on the cheek and then turning and burying his leathery bear nose in the fur of Gus’s broad neck. Moose instinctively spooned his husband. Gus sighed contentedly in his sleep, turned over and wrapped his arms around Rusty and muttered ‘Strawberries’ in his sleep. The full moon through the cloth-covered windows bathed the snoring bears in soft light as they slept peacefully.

On the following days the work had gone well and the evenings had been equally enjoyable. Ron had added a sling he attached to the heavy rafters and the sturdy wood construction held the weight of any of the bears that climbed into it. Each morning the sling would be unhooked and stored away. The building inspector had come out a couple of times and by Saturday; everything had been finished except some painting and hardware upstairs. Final inspection had been made and everything was deemed to be up to code. The building inspector had signed off and all was ready for business and occupancy.

“You guys are great clients... and one HELL of a lot of fun!” Ron said, shaking their hands and drawing them into prolonged bear hugs, while Gus and George finished loading the trucks with equipment. “Do we get an invite to the grand opening?”

“You bet!” Rusty said.

Moose was busy hugging the stuffing out of Max and added, “Bring the whole crew!”

“Think you can handle all of us?” Ron roared with laughter and waved as he had hoisted himself up into the lead truck's cab.

“I think we might.” Moose said. “Be well and have a safe trip home.”

The crew had driven off, leaving Moose and Rusty gazing at their transformed building.

“Wow. Just... wow!” Moose had said, putting his arm over Rusty's shoulders.

- - - - - - - -

“Wow! Something smells really good.” Rusty was called back from his extended recollections by the sound of Moose and Brian coming up the stairs, talking. He looked at his wine glass, still half full. He smiled at Moose and Brian. Suddenly, his eyes widened.

“The casserole!!” Rusty exclaimed, rushing to the kitchen.

Chapter 5

In spite of Rusty's worries the casserole, as well as the rest of the dinner, turned out well. Wine and food were shared generously as was conversation, though Rusty noted Brian stopped at one glass and drank water after that. The two werebears filled Brian in on how they had met and what kinds of lives each had, had before they met. They deftly skipped over their introduction to the werebear life and their earlier adventure with Boris and his friends and the rogue bears.

“I'm sorry about your family, Moose,” Brian said as he cleaned his plate of seconds. “Do you ever hear from them?” Moose's answer was a tight-lipped 'No'.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to...” Brian still hurt from the rejection by his family. He could only imagine what it was like to have your own kids turned against you.

“S'OK,” Moose said softening back to his prior mood. “Water under the bridge, I guess… and I DO know one thing, I'm more at peace with myself now. I'm not under a cloud. I'm not trying to be something I never really was, not trying to fit into someone else’s image anymore. I'm happier, don't you think?” he said, turning to Rusty.

“Yes, my love, you are.” Rusty leaned over and gave Moose a kiss.

“Too bad I had to lose my kids in the process.” Moose frowned. To change the subject, Rusty offered more dessert, which Brian gladly accepted.

“You guys sure have huge appetites... I mean, I cleaned my plate twice but I couldn't keep up with you two!” Brian had lost his 'starved street person' look but to both bear's eyes, he still needed some weeks of good feeding to return to the ranks of the well-nourished.

“Well, we both have always had big appetites and my Norman, here, has that big body; and that needs a lot of fuel, you know.” Rusty smiled fondly at Moose. Brian insisted on helping clear the table and with kitchen clean up. Moose looked at Rusty, who nodded slightly. When they were finished, they adjourned to the living room and Moose broached the subject that was on both their minds.

“Um, Brian... we've thought about this and talked it out this afternoon; we'd like to put something to you. Instead of your going to the shelter, we'd like to offer you a place to sleep here.” Brian's eyebrows rose and his shoulders tensed. Rusty hurriedly interrupted.

“There would be no obligation, Brian. You're welcome to stay here. There's an unfurnished room downstairs behind Norman's treatment rooms, next to the bathroom and the storeroom for the cafe. There's plenty of room there, lights, power and a window.” Rusty said.

Then Moose continued “And we’ve got an airbed in the garage we take camping that we can set up for you tonight and a pillow and extra blankets, of course. I can get the futon couch out of storage tomorrow after work. It folds out so that’ll provide you with seating as well as a bed. There’s also a dresser, a couple of lamps, and nightstands I can grab.”

Brian was getting a strange look on his face and Rusty picked up on it, “You wouldn't be obligated to us in any way, Brian. The room is just sitting there empty and the furnishings are sitting idle in storage.”

“It's got walls and a door with a lock, plenty of privacy and it's pretty big. I was originally going to use it for a changing room for patients but it turned out not to be needed,” Moose continued, “you can stay here as long as you need while looking for a job and getting back on your feet...” The big bear looked at Brian, trying to gauge his response to the offer. “Like we said... no obligation. No 'houseboy' stuff.”

Brian was taken by surprise by the offer. He certainly had never expected to be offered a place to stay, even for a short period of time. Being invited for dinner was amazing to him but this was just unbelievable. He stuttered, “G – g – guys, I can't, I mean I... this is too much...I'm...”

Rusty impulsively hugged the embarrassed young man. “It's OK, Brian, in fact you'd be doing us a favor. Neither of us has had much time off from work since we opened and having someone on the premises at night would make it easier for us to get a weekend away now and then. This area's picking up but it's still kind of empty at night. If you'd be willing to keep an eye on things while you're here, that would more than pay us back for the use of the room.”

Brian looked from one bear to the other. Slowly, a smile started on his face, transforming it. “You mean it?”

“Of course we do!” Moose said as Rusty nodded.

“That'd be great!” Brian said happily. “And I could maybe install cupboards under those shelves in the cellar; finish 'em off real nice for you.” Brian's whole demeanor had changed, radiating happiness and optimism.

“It's settled, then. Moose, you want to take him down so he can settle in? I'll finish up here,” ignoring the fact that the kitchen was already clean. Moose nodded and he and Brian headed downstairs, with Brian talking animatedly about some unfinished cabinets he's seen at the hardware store earlier in the day. Rusty smiled to himself as the voices faded down the stairwell.

Later, the phone rang just as Rusty was passing the desk. He picked up the receiver, “Brown Bear Coffee Shop. This is Rusty.”

“Boss, this is Zach.” Zach's voice sounded echo-y and distant, obviously on a cell phone.

“Zach! Good to hear you. How's your dad doing?” Rusty had a premonition that Zach's news wouldn't be good. It wasn't.

“He's a lot worse than the last time, Boss. He won't go into the home, he takes swings at anyone who suggests it or brings it up and he's wandering now. I swear, I was in the can for five minutes and he snuck out on me. I looked everywhere, got in the car and drove around. About a half an hour later, the police brought him back.” There was a pause. “He was in his PJ bottoms and nothing else. The cops said they found him downtown.”

“Oh, that's awful, Zach.”

“Yeah, it sucks. I hate to do it but I've got to give you notice, Boss. I can't leave him like this, it's not safe for him and since he won't go to the home. Not yet anyway…”

“Zach, is there anyone there who can help with your dad? Give you a hand, I mean?” Zach was a kind young man but Rusty thought he wouldn't be up to caring for a 60+ year old dementia patient on his own.

“My sis isn't far, but she has kids. She can't stay here and there isn't room for Dad at their place. I'll stay here with him for now and she'll come over and help with cleaning and cooking when the kids are in school.” Zach paused, then said, “I'm sorry, I really liked the job but I gotta quit. Dad... well, Dad needs...”

“Zach, don't worry about it. You take all the time you need. We'll get someone in to cover. Once everything gets sorted out on your end and if you want it, the job will be here for you.”

“Thanks, Boss, I really appreciate it. I just don't know how long...”

“Zach, don't worry.” Rusty felt for the kid, suddenly having to be a parent to his own aging father. “You're a good son. Your dad is lucky to have you. Take care of yourself and good luck, and don't worry about the job. Stay in touch, OK?” A loud crash in the background cut the conversation short.

“Gotta go. I think that was Dad in the kitchen. Thanks again.” Zach hung up and Rusty did the same, shaking his head.

“Who was that?” Moose was climbing the stairs just as Rusty hung up.

“Zach. His dad's bad. He called to say he would have to quit...”

“Ah, no! Poor guy.”

“I told him to take whatever time he needed, the job would be here for him when things got sorted out.” Moose reached out and gave his lover a tight hug. “You're a good man, you know that?” Rusty sighed and hugged Moose back, holding it for a while, enjoying the warmth.

“How's Brian?”

“Oh, he's all settled in. I gave him a set of sheets and the airbed. I’ll get the furniture in that room tomorrow. Rusty, he's really happy and grateful. He kept telling me he didn't know how to thank us. I don't think he's much used to common kindness.” Moose stared down into Rusty's eyes.

“I think you're right and if he works out, he'll not only have paid us back but he'll make it possible for us to take some breaks from work. It'll be good to know someone is around the place at night.” Moose nodded.

“Now, bed time for bears.” Rusty began pushing Moose towards the bedroom.

“Hey, it's only ten, why are we...”

“You remember my saying I had plans for that bear seed of yours?”

“Ooooh, whatcha got in mind?” Moose leered.

“You doing all the work, that's what!” Rusty slapped his paw over the light switch so that only one low lamp on a night stand was lit.

They stood, looking at each other in the low light, Moose's pants tenting in anticipation. Rusty growled low, a sound filled with both lust and authority.

“Strip me. Slow. REAL slow.” Moose complied, slowly unbuttoning Rusty's shirt and first easing his left arm out, then the right. He reached down and tugged the tongue of Rusty's leather belt out of its captive loop. He pulled it to the left and eased the tang out of the hole, then slowly, so slowly, pulled it out of all the other loops around Rusty's girth.

“Put the belt on the table,” Rusty growled. Moose complied. Rusty didn't often play the full-on butch dominant top bear. It was a treat when he did.

Moose opened the button on Rusty's pants and eased the zipper down, the sound it made wholly different in slow motion. The pants fell to the floor. He tugged the boxers down and Rusty stepped out of the clothes. His cock was fully extended, leaking precum, ball sack starting to snug up. Moose reached for the thick tube of bear meat. Rusty batted his paw away.

“No! You don’t get to touch that unless you’re told to... and I'll tell you when.”

Moose’s spine and balls tingled and he retracted his paw and waited for instruction, like a good boy. His breathing was becoming more rapid as he became more excited by Rusty's dominance and control. He began to change into his hybrid bear-human form.

“NO!” Rusty barked. “I didn’t say you could change, did I? Stay human.” The bear fur that had begun to sprout through Moose's auburn pelt slowly receded. “Take off your clothes. Make it slow.” Moose complied, exaggerating the slowness, making his stripping into an erotic bear version of a striptease. “That's it. That's good. Nice and slow.” Moose's heavy cock flopped out of his pants, already half erect, as Moose lowered them and when he turned slightly, blood began pumping into the massive member, causing it to fully erect in a series of jerks. In only moments, he was fully hard, straining and his precum was flowing down the underside of his meat into his auburn crotch fur, instead of the more usual drips.

“I'm sorry. I can't help it. I can't make it stop.” Moose mumbled in mock contrition.

Rusty eased himself down on the bed, stretching out, legs apart with hands behind his head. His cock jutted upwards, not standing straight up but angled back towards the wall behind the bed. Moose started to join him on the bed. “Oh, no you don't. You've got work to do, big boy. Stand on the bed. That's it. Straddle me.” Moose stood and did as he was told.

“Now, jack off. You're going to shoot all over me and cover me with that hot, thick, sticky, creamy bear spunk you make... and you're going to tell me all about the first time you jerked off. EVERY detail. Leave nothing out. Understand? And...” Rusty paused and waited. Moose became visibly nervous.

“And? What am I supposed to do, I mean, while I'm telling you?”

“You are going to jack yourself, and you're to finish off telling me as you shoot all over me. Time it exactly. Got that?” Rusty put one furry foot up in the air, nudging Moose's sensitive nutsack. “Answer me! Got it?”

“Yes. Yes.”

“Yes WHAT?” Rusty barked.

“Yes Sir!” Moose said. He was into the scene now, giving control to his mate.

He began to slowly jack himself, his thick foreskin sliding up and over his fat tip and then back. His nipples were completely erect, he reached up and played with them with the free hand, rubbing the erect tip of one with his open palm, then tweaking the other, twisting and pinching. “The first time I jacked off, I was in junior high school. I'd heard some of the guys talking about 'blowing their load' and 'beating their meat'. From how they were talking about it, I knew it had something to do with your cock but I wasn't exactly sure...”

Rusty lay back, listening to Moose's voice and intently watching his body, towering above him. The visual image was more important to him than the story itself, the words of which drifted in and out of Rusty's perception. He saw the tops of Moose's size 14 feet, covered with the same auburn hair that covered his lower legs and calves. The calves were thick, almost knotted with muscle. He let his eye travel upwards, noticing how the knee caps protruded slightly and how the hair thickened there, then thinned a bit as his eyes moved up the thickly muscled thighs. He imagined the feel of those trunks of muscle and fur as they pressed on him when they made love, the feel of the warm soft hair and skin under-laid with firm muscle. He imagined the wide feet, the toes digging into the mattress to give something to push against as he tried to drive deeper into Rusty's ass. His eyes continued their upward climb, seeing the long stands of dark red hair hanging down from Moose's scrotum, jiggling as the base of his fist hit them on each downward stroke. The skin, barely visible under all the hair, was a darker rose color than Moose's skin elsewhere. It was wrinkled, the ridges and furrows of the thermo-elastic muscle underneath showing through.

“I had to wait until my mom went over to the neighbor's house before I could get to the bathroom to try it out. We didn't have any Vaseline but there was some hand lotion in the kitchen on the sink, so I squirted a lot of that in my hand and went...”

Rusty watched as Moose's big paw slowed down, only moving slightly up and down the shaft, the foreskin barely retracting from the tip. The entire tip as well as a good 1/3 of the foreskin was wet and sticky with the clear precum that Moose continued to leak. Ropes of it hung down and when they reached Rusty's thighs or scrotum, detached and puddled, only to be followed by more of the sweet sticky fluid. The thick shaft, with dark red hair growing up the base and half way up the length, was rigid and pointed upwards. The crotch area was matted with thick dark red hair, spreading side to side as wide as Moose's hips and extended down under the scrotum and down the inside of his thighs. The base of the belly was as thickly covered and the belly itself was very nearly as thickly furred. His belly was rounded and ample, not quite a ball belly but still substantial without being obese. Not soft and juggling, but harder, being solid muscle overlaid with a layer of bear fat. The backs of Moose's hand were covered with fine, lighter red hairs as were the knuckles of each finger. The fingers were blunt and think, competent-looking, one paw curled around the cock, the other hanging at Moose's left side, occasionally traveling up through the fur of his belly to a nipple to stimulate it. His forearms were covered with the same lighter red fur but the chest shared coloring with the belly and crotch, dark red. The slabs of each pec carried a thick, erect, rosy nipple that was almost lost in all the fur. The bushy beard blended in with the chest hair, auburn and curly. From this angle, the thickness of the beard obscured Moose's face unless he looked directly downwards.

“I knew something was gonna happen soon, I could feel a tingle in my cock and something else I'd never felt before. It was... something... I felt it all over and I knew I couldn't stop it but I didn't want to. Suddenly, I felt like I was going to pee but it wasn't exactly like that and then it started...” Moose's paw flew over his cock as his body tensed and his butt muscles clenched.

“Yeah, you big fucker, fucking COVER me with that bear cum, shoot it ALL over me like you did in your bathroom, cover me like you covered the floor!” Rusty shouted as Moose's fist was flying up and down his shaft, pumping hard. He grunted and his ball sack tightened up even more. His legs shook and he threw back his head and roared as he shot rope after thick rope of bear cum, splashing across Rusty's furry body below. Face, shoulders, chest, belly, crotch, legs; just about every exposed part of Rusty was criss-crossed with sticky white streaks of cum. Moose shuddered as the last squirt hit Rusty's thigh with a splat and he squeezed out the final drops out and he shook his still rigid cock. He looked down, mock worry on his face.

“Was I OK? Did I finish on time?”

“Did I say you were done? Did I?” Rusty's soft voice was filled with a pretend menace.

“No. We aren't done, I know that. What should I do now? What do you want me to...?”

Rusty interrupted Moose's protests. “This cock of mine, see it? See how hard it is? See how it's all ready to shoot? You think I want to just shoot it anywhere? You think that wall back there is a good place for all this hot cum you've caused my balls to churn out? Huh? DO YOU?”

“No, sir”

“Then you need to get down here and sit your furry ass on it. You NEED to fuck yourself on my pole. You need to fucking impale yourself on my meat. You WANT to have my cock BURIED in your ass and you NEED my hot seed deep in your gut! Tell me! SAY IT! Do it...do it NOW!”

Moose squatted over Rusty's rigid meat and centered the tip against his hole. “I NEED you inside me. I HAVE to have that thick hot meat of yours buried in me, stretching me, opening me up. I NEED your hot seed in me... deep inside me. PLEASE shoot in me. Fill me, bear!” He made sure it was correctly positioned and then sat down, hard, driving the stake deep into his insides. Rusty gasped and yelped as his cock was enveloped by the near searing heat of Moose's rectum. Moose's eyes rolled back in his head as Rusty's fuckpole penetrated deeper than it had before, deep, deeper, past his prostate and inwards. Rusty's balls were pinned by Moose's ass cheeks.

“Fuck yourself on me,” Rusty hissed and Moose began an up and down, semi-rocking motion, moaning and almost whimpering with the flood of sexual ecstasy that pounded in his whole body. Rusty grunted with each downward thrust and groaned with each upward pull. His balls were squeezed each time Moose bottomed out, sending a thrill through Rusty's groin and making him shake with pleasure. Rusty's cock was sheathed in the heat of Moose's gut. His tip tingled, and the whole shaft was alive with the feeling of friction, pressure, and the sheer joy of being deep inside his lover. Still, Rusty tried to surge even higher up inside his mate's ass. He reached out and gripped Moose's hairy thighs and gasped, “Gonna CUM!” and he started shooting deep in his lover's ass. “Don't stop! Don't you fucking stop!” he cried, as wave after wave of passion shook his body and Moose sat down hard one final time. Moose groaned out loud, rising in pitch as he felt the flood of heat of his lover's sperm shooting deep within him.

It felt as if time froze for both bears. The room was now silent except for their rasping breaths. Gradually, they returned to more normal heart and respiration rates. Moose looked down. “Did I do it right? Was I good? Was I a good boy?”

Rusty motioned with his arms for Moose to sink down onto his cum-soaked fur and lay quietly. “You were wonderful, Norman. Everything I could ask for. My good bear. Shhh... rest now, you worked hard, you've earned a rest. Shhh. Shhh… Rest now, my stud bear… rest, my love.” Rusty gently kissed Moose's mouth and cheeks. They lay together as sleep overtook them both.

- - - - - - - -

Brian closed the door after Moose said goodnight and gone upstairs to his partner. 'I wonder what they are doing up there,' he thought. He realized he knew next to nothing about gay life. Was it all sex? Did they fuck constantly? Did they argue, like his parents did? 'Maybe they just sit around and watch TV.' His own few experiences were unsatisfactory, fleeting and unconsummated; or worse, painful and dangerous. But the fiction he'd read surreptitiously had made it out that gay men either fucked or thought about fucking, all the time. Moose and Rusty obviously had lives and businesses and did other things, normal things. Was that what gay life was? Maybe they didn't have sex, or maybe their life was something else entirely?

The airbed was already inflated. Plenty of warm covers and a large soft pillow sat atop it waiting to be used. It was quiet, light from the industrial light fixture attached to the backside of the building filtered into the room from the high windows. Someone would have to be on a ladder to look in on him. This was the most privacy Brian had experienced in his short life. Even at home his little brother had shared his room and when he was old enough, Brian had moved into his own bedroom, but it adjoined his parents' and the walls were thin.

Later, in his dorm room at college, being in the end room which was larger than the others in the building meant that instead of one roommate, he had two. There NEVER seemed to have alone time and what little he had he made good use of. After being disowned he’d had to take whatever accommodation he could get. Shelters had no privacy and the streets certainly weren’t private, you were exposed on every side and there was danger everywhere. Here, he was completely alone and secure, a great luxury; and he could literally hear a pen drop if he’d had one to drop. Here, no one would run him off or try to roll him for what he had or beat him.

He sighed. The generosity of these two men, two GAY men, was greater than he’d ever expected. When it came down to it they, perfect strangers, had treated him with more kindness and more humanity than his own flesh and blood had. They trusted him in the span of a single day (not that he’d do anything to betray that trust); but they were either very gullible or very wise and could see into people like no one he’d ever met outside of his Granny.

- - - - - - - -

He remembered how Granny had taken him aside when he was just a boy of no more than ten. She’d asked him about who he liked; if he liked girls or boys. When he hadn’t answered, because he wasn’t exactly sure what she meant by ‘liking’ she offered, “You like boys, don’t you Brian?”

“Yes.” he’d answered.

“More than you like girls?”

“Yes, Granny.” he’d answered, puzzled at the direction of her questions.

His Granny pulled him into her arms, hugged him close and said, “Brian, I want you to know I will always, ALWAYS, love you no matter what! There’s nothing about you I do not love; you’re a kind and gentle soul, but you have to understand a lot of people won’t love you if they find out that you like boys better than girls. It’s a sad thing, and I think a shameful thing, that people are this way. No one should be treated poorly because they’re different, but they are; it’s the way of the world.” She looked into Brian’s eyes with great love and a touch of sadness. “Brian, I fear you have a hard life ahead of you, unless you’re careful with whom you share your difference. You should learn to think about what you say before you say it. Consider how people will take what you say. You need to be more cautious than you are. You shouldn’t tell anyone about liking boys, unless you feel you can trust them with your life, because it may just be that grave a matter. Do you understand?”

“I think so, Granny.” he’d said.

She gave him a look, seeing deep into him, to see if he truly understood. She nodded. “Good!” she said and gave him a kiss on the cheek, “Now go and play; there’s enough worry in the world and you shouldn’t be burdened with it just yet.”

- - - - - - - -

Musing, Brian finished making up the airbed. Of course he’d never imagined that his Granny ever meant for him to be wary of his own parents, but upon reflection, perhaps that was exactly what she meant. Still, the weight of his secret no longer burdened him, even at the cost of his home.

He picked up the covers and put them to his nose. They smelled of closet and storage, but also something else he couldn’t quite identify. As he breathed in through the soft cotton something in him stirred. He inhaled deeply a second time, lingering over the strange but faint and enticing odor. For the first time in quite a while, Brian was becoming aroused and full of need. He was rock hard in seconds and his balls tingled with the promise of a good jack off session.

Brian dug through his meager belongings and found the small jar of Vaseline. Most of his belongings served multiple uses – backpacks only held so much. This helped with wind burn, chapped lips, kept the zippers on his packs working well, but it also provided him with occasional sexual release. He dug out some of the paper napkins he’d been hoarding, kept dry in a well-worn gallon sized ziptop bag.

Brian thought Rusty was a good looking man -- he smelled good, not floral or anything but not ‘woodsy’. Rusty kinda smelled very faintly like some sort of berries. Maybe it was his shampoo or the way whatever cologne he wore interacted with his body chemistry and Brian found him very attractive, rather sexy actually. Moose however, he desperately wanted THAT man to touch him. He smelled… well… manly. He smelled how Brian thought clean, well groomed men should smell. He had a faint ‘musk’ scent, which was warm and comfortable; it made Brian tingle at the back of his head and down his spine. He’d brushed up against his thick red arm fur and the feel of it against his own somewhat less thick hair sent shivers of excitement through him. When he’d first met him this morning, coming down into the basement Brian had been rather startled, but immediately Moose had disarmed any feeling of threat his size might project. It was this combination of monster and teddy bear that tickled at the back of Brian’s brain, but there was something else, something he couldn't quite put his finger on just yet.

Brian finished making up the bed and had almost gotten into it, when it stopped cold. 'I can be naked!' he thought with pleasure. For the first time in a very long time he’d be able to sleep nude. He quickly stripped out of his clothes and as soon as his cock was free, his left hand was pumping his stiff member. Brian wasn’t huge by any means, but he wasn’t small either. His cock was an inch or so above the top of his fingers when he gripped it. It felt so good. It had probably been a month since he was hard like this; the last time had been in that abandoned barn, up in the loft. It had been the last time he’d felt safe enough to take care of his sexual needs and fantasize. Stress and not being able to take care of his health had kept him reluctantly celibate, and frustrated.

He lay on the bed, spread his legs and began rubbing his cockhead, now exposed as he had peeled back his foreskin. He scooped a finger of the petroleum jelly and coated his cock. He reached down with his other hand cupped his hairy balls. His bush was thicker than most guys his age. He’d slyly checked out the other guys in the showers at school and learned that he was above average for body hair in general, but had an especially thick bush. The guys had teased him about it and told him to ‘trim the shrubbery’, but Brian told them they were just jealous, that he was more man than they were, which seemed to shut them up.

As he relaxed, his thoughts drifted.

He imagined holding a young, mostly hairless man of his age to his own furry body. The young man was a fair haired wiry amalgam of guys he’d showered with. He’d given him the name ‘Broc’. It sounded manly but not old. Because it had been awhile, the fantasy was particularly vivid and he was really getting into it. Brian was caressing him from behind with his hard cock nuzzled to his smooth ass crack, kissing his neck with his bearded lips, tickling him with it. He could almost feel his dream man shiver with excitement. He brushed Broc’s smooth young face with the back of his furry hand; the young man kissing the hairy knuckles. He reached down with his hand and began stroking his soft young man as he began humping into his ass. He would moan in pleasure as Brian took the lead and began entering his imaginary lover.

Brian pulled the covers up to his face to wipe sweat from his brow and he pushed his face into the cotton cover and breathed deeply.

And then, there was a sudden shift, an unexpected intrusion into his usual fantasy.

Moose flashed into his mind, opening the door to the room, staring down at him not quite approvingly. He stood before him naked, covered in red body hair Brian had only guessed at. His mere presence and turgid member compelling service from him; to swallow his huge cock down to the root. Brian’s fantasy boy disappeared and in his mind he kneeled wordlessly before the great red bearded beast as Moose had silently demanded. Trembling, he took the thick cock into his being. Moose gripped Brian’s skull and began to thrust savagely down his throat.

“That’s it! Gonna skull-fuck the crap outta you, boy! Yeah! Fuck yeah! Gonna fill your belly with my hot jizz.”

Brian was getting extremely close to cumming. It had only been minutes, but he was young and was more than overdue for release. In his mind he begged Moose to feed him.

“Fuck yeah I’m gonna feed your face; gonna feed you my seed and then I’m gonna flip you and fuck your ass until you scream for me to stop!”

Fantasy Moose growled and cursed, shooting hot loads into Brian’s waiting throat and Brian swallowed as fast as he could, taking every drop of sweet cum.

…and that’s when Brian lost it. He shot all over himself, coating his hairy chest and beard in shot after shot of hot seed. He cried out in pleasure, louder than he had wanted to and held his breath, still pulsing out cum into a sticky pool that filled his belly button. He listened, afraid that he might have disturbed his hosts. He slowly let out his breath, listening a little longer, but there was no sound outside the room and no indication Moose or Rusty had heard anything.

Brian lay there content, having had one of the best orgasms he’d ever had. It was one of the most intense he’d experienced and for the first time, it had included another hairy man. Brian had always sort of been drawn to guys who were hairy, he especially had felt a kinship to them since high school had brought about his own maturation; but until now, he’d never thought about sex with a hairy man. When he thought about other hairy men, he had thought of them fucking their own smooth young passive men. He’d always imagined his smooth young man in bed with him; snuggling up to him and holding him like a living plushy toy. This vision of Moose that he’d had felt odd, but not in a negative way. He didn’t quite know what to think.

Maybe it was that Moose had been so friendly to him or could it be that he’d just needed a good jack off? He didn’t quite know what to make of it, but at the same time he wasn’t going to argue with results either, he was covered in his own sperm. If he was developing a taste for hairy guys like himself, he’d just add that to his fantasy repertoire. Maybe next time Moose would force Broc over the edge of a couch and fuck him while Brian fed his other end?

He grinned, “That’s a story for another time,” Brian said softly in the night’s stillness.

He’d calmed down and cooled off and reached for the bag of napkins. He began cleaning himself up. He realized quickly that he’d probably need to shower because he smelled like sex from head to toe. He opened his door quietly, peering out cautiously into the dark hallway. There were no sounds from above, so he quietly slipped into the shower and rinsed off. He toweled off dry with the one he’d used earlier in the day and slipped quietly back into the room.

He lay there for a while thinking about what Rusty and Moose would think of him if they knew he’d fantasized about sucking Moose off. 'Well,' he thought, 'they don't have to know.' Brian continued to think about his new-found fortune and security; eventually, he fell into a deep sleep.

- - - - - - - -

The clock on Clyde Valmer’s desk read 10:11 pm as he looked up from the paperwork. The lights were low in the richly appointed office. A tumbler of 25 year old scotch sat not far from the desk lamp.

Clyde had gone over the deed at least half a dozen times; it was right there, plain as day and so simple he was sure there was something he was missing, but he couldn’t find any loophole, it was iron clad. The old man had disappeared 30 years ago, had not checked in 10 years and per the terms of the contract if the old guy didn’t show up every 10 years to renew (and he hadn’t as of yesterday which was the deadline), the property ownership would pass to the current tenant provided the property was occupied for a year and a day past the deadline date.

Of course Barrington, or a duly appointed successor, could show up and nullify the transfer and the terms would just continue to roll on ad infinitum.

Barrington himself had been a successor and Wells before him and Bertrand before him and Keats and Mathiesen and on and on back to the deeding of the land by the territorial authorities before statehood. Barrington HAD appointed a successor; O’Keefe… but no one had heard from him in the last ten years either. The key point to all of this was the final line; “if the property remained vacant for a year and a day, on the following day the property ownership would pass to the most senior member of the law firm managing the legal affairs for the current owner.”

Valmer smiled and took a sip of scotch, SO smooth. If only his grandpa Kustas could see him now, senior partner at Valmer, Jefferson, Wyeth, Upton and Fipps! Grandpa didn’t like or trust lawyers, mistrustful immigrant peasant that he was. America had been good to the young man from Estonia and even better to Clyde’s father, Henry; and it would be even better to him because, in about a year, that valuable piece of property would be all his and he had plans; big, lucrative plans. The present 'occupants' wouldn't be a problem for much longer, he thought, with a slight grin that never quite reached his eyes.

All the time and effort in manipulating things to become senior partner had been worth it, he thought, as well as great fun. Ever since he had stumbled across the oddly-provisioned will in one of his surreptitious visits into the firm's vault files, he had worked towards becoming senior partner. Legal backstabbing and office politics were second nature to Valmer, and the judicious application of 'persuasion' was all part of the fun. The old guard had been turned out to pasture, or had somehow found it in their best interests to retire earlier than might have been expected, leaving the field to Clyde. His father and grandfather would have been proud. Well, actually, his grandfather definitely wouldn’t have been and his father might have turned a blind eye if it meant a better station in life for his son; but no matter, they were both dead and in their graves.

Spurred on by the USGS report he'd run across, he had become fixated on acquiring land in the area. Buying up businesses or ruining them financially was almost as much fun as office politics was, or at least it had been until he hit the seemingly immovable wall of the current tenants of the land the homeless shelter stood on. They simply would not be bought out, and so far had successfully resisted Clyde's firmer methods of persuasion. 'Well, that problem would soon be solved.' Valmer thought, as he took another sip of Scotch.

He opened a hidden safe and took out a burner cell phone. He called Keith… a call that would mean a good chunk of money for a special job, if he was up to it, and he was pretty sure he would be; Keith needed money and wasn’t in a financial position to say no. Losers like that always needed money and there were plenty of them; if Keith couldn’t do it, another pawn would make himself available. He began to punch the numbers into the keypad.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

<Three months later>

They lay together, comfortable in the dark and quiet. Moose had his thickly-furred arm across Rusty's torso, his paw playing idly with one of Rusty's nipples. Rusty's soft, furry butt was nestled in Moose's crotch and Moose's heavy leg was up and over Rusty's. Both bears had grown since becoming were, Rusty more so than Moose. Moose had always been big, even in high school. The most noticeable difference was that he had become much hairier than he had been even in his twenties, and he was no longer bald. Apparently something in Walt’s genes had transferred over to him and he’d regrown the full head of bright auburn hair he’d had in his twenties. He had briefly played off his new-found hair as a very good, very expensive, toupee to his coworkers before he and Rusty had ‘disappeared’. His coworkers assumed midlife crisis or cheating with a boyfriend on the side or both. The change had increased the fur on his chest, belly, back and his legs. All were covered with auburn fur that was a pleasant compliment to Rusty's strawberry-blond coloring.

Rusty had become hairier as well, but the most noticeable change for him had been increased height. For the first time in his life, he now looked most people in the eye instead of up at them. His shoulders, arms and legs had gotten thicker with muscle as well but he still retained the classic 'round bear' look. He was frankly thrilled with his new body. Rusty had always been defensive about his size and endowment and had developed a sharply sarcastic tongue as part of his social armor. Moose's frank worshiping of his body and cock had gone a long way towards convincing Rusty that he was desirable and the physical changes after being turned were had relieved much of the rest of his life-long anxiety about the inadequacy of his size.

In school, Moose had been athletic in both shape and outlook. Now, he looked like a middle-aged athlete with more than a bit of a gut, a linebacker in the off-season. He had the height and bulk to be intimidating to all but the biggest of men; but like many large men, he was rather placid and non-aggressive. He'd never had to defend himself in a fight, in school or as an adult; and perhaps that was why he had grown up with a generally sunny outlook on life.

Rusty took Moose's paw in his and kissed the palm. “Love, why don't we take the weekend off and go out to the national forest? I want us to change and run naked; let the ‘Bears’ out to play. We haven't done that for a while and I know how much you like it. We can do it, now that Brian is living downstairs and filling in for Zack. What do you say?”

Moose was half asleep, content with the warmth and closeness. “Hmm?”

“This weekend. You. Me. National forest. Naked-Bear-Time!” The last part said with that announcer’s voice used by the advertisers of monster truck rallies, complete with echo effect.

“Sounds good,” Moose intoned sleepily. “Let's do it… but now, sleep.” He hugged Rusty to his broad chest and kissed his ear. In two minutes he was asleep, warm breath regular against Rusty's neck and back. Rusty smiled to himself. Familiarity had never dulled the sense of joy and contentment he got from Moose's touch or his closeness in bed. Soon, he too fell asleep.

Chapter 6

That weekend was clear and cool, unseasonable for early August, but not unheard-of in coastal Oregon. “You got everything you need?” Rusty asked Rebekah Friday afternoon. “I've put in the bakery orders ahead so you won't have to worry about that and Brian will be here and up early Saturday to open; Randy and Sandy are taking some time off so they are doubling up on deliveries, and...”

“Stop fussing, Boss. I'm on it, we’ll all be fine. The cafe will survive, go!” She flapped her apron at Rusty who smiled.

“Yeah, I know, Bekah, I fuss too much. It's just that...”

“GO!” she shooed him with her hands like a teenager who wanted her parents to just leave for their night on the town.

With Brian now a steady employee and the über-competent Rebekah in charge, Rusty really wasn't worried about leaving for three days. Their plan had always been to have enough trained staff that he and Moose could get away for long weekends when they wanted to. Both of them really enjoyed the work they were doing and neither of them liked long vacations; but it was sure nice to be able to get away now and then. A trip to Canada and one of Boris' summer bear gatherings would take more planning but was actually do-able now. Rusty was humming as he climbed the stairs.

Moose had finished with his last patient of the day but needed to stay late. Two sports trainers from the regional high school were coming over for an informal workshop on taping and preventative icing for young athletes, so they would not be able to leave until early the next morning. Although they would not actually need any food for their trip, relying instead on foraging, Rusty would pack a convincing amount along with the camping gear as a cover for anyone curious about their absence.

The alarm went off very early on Saturday morning, and after some quality cuddling and a relaxing hot shower afterwards, Moose and Rusty said their goodbyes to Brian and hit the road out of Wolverton; heading towards the Deschutes National Forest. Singing to music on the SUV's stereo, the two bears rolled down the highway, windows down. “I don't know who has the better voice, you or me!” Moose joked.

“Neither!” Rusty tossed back, starting another falsetto off-key verse of Blondie's 'Heart of Glass'.

They parked the SUV far off the road in a tiny clearing they had made some months ago on a previous, shorter trip. Normally, they took time stripping each other of clothing, enjoying the sensuous pleasure of the act of revealing each other’s bodies. Somehow, after years of being together, they never tired of this, but now they were anxious to get to the safety of the deeper woods so they could change into their full ursine forms. They stripped quickly, locking their clothes in the rear cargo area. They carefully spread the tarp over it and locked it and set the alarm; Moose hid the key. The vehicle was completely out of sight from the road and covered with the camo tarp, no one could tell it was parked in the copse of trees from more than a few feet away. Satisfied, Moose and Rusty walked naked, Moose's cock swinging, Rusty’s was bobbing as they headed deeper into the woods. Inhaling the cool, pine-scented air, they reveled in the freedom they were soon to enjoy.

“Here?” Moose asked, looking at Rusty.

“Yeah, you go first, I love watching you change.” Rusty sat on a nearby rock and watched his lover change into an enormous, auburn-furred grizzly. Moose's thick fur muffled the creaks and cracks as bones and joints rearranged themselves into a bear skeleton and new muscle layers formed. His face elongated to the dished face and snout of a grizzly bear, while his ears moved upward, becoming fur-covered and rounded. The stubby tail formed at the base of his spine while pads formed from palms and soles and claws from nails. Dense bear fur pushed through his already-copious human pelt. His eyes turned to the chocolate brown he shared with his ursine brothers but there was a glint of deeper intelligence in them that perhaps might be noticed; if you weren’t too afraid to make the observation.

Moose growled, unable to speak in his full bear form but Rusty understood easily enough. It was his turn to change and Moose eagerly watched as his mate went through his own transformation. Rusty had, had less trouble with his changes than Moose had, but he deliberately slowed the process so Moose could watch and enjoy the metamorphosis; it was something that invariably made his mate horny. Moose was now fully proficient in his changes but it hadn't always been so. Now both bears could change smoothly at will; neither got tired of watching the other.

Dropping to all fours, both bears ambled off, their amplified senses drinking in the myriad scents and sounds of nature. One scent in particular Rusty found most appealing. Moose was leaking after the show Rusty had given his mate. Rusty halted the larger bear, ducked his head under his mate’s belly and took the semi-erect member into his muzzle, lapping up the precum with his big warm tongue, rumbling a growl that vibrated the cock he was suckling.

Moose growled deeply and made happy rumbling noises of his own and then Rusty abruptly pulled off, turned around and began walking in the direction in which he’d started.

Moose chuffed and whined which became a disappointed growl at the end: ‘You’re not gonna finish that?!’

Rusty laughed in the way of bears and rumbled over his shoulder, ‘Not now; antici…’ he left an intentional pause, ‘pation.’ He finished and laughed again.

Of all their senses, sight was the least enhanced, lagging far behind smell and hearing. Nevertheless, they saw more sharply in this form than they did in human form, particularly at night. Like many animals, bears have a reflective layer, called the tarpetum lucidum lining the back of the eyeball; werebears were no exception. But, combined with some of the features of human vision, the werebear had superior vision to either humans or bears. Color vision was more tilted to the blue and green end of the spectrum but colors meant more to the bears in this form; for example, indicating the relative health of vegetation far more accurately to them than it might to humans.

Hearing was greatly enhanced, allowing the bears to sense and track other animals with great precision over many miles. The additional resonating chambers in their ear structure increased their hearing into the near-ultrasonic range.

Few things could surprise an alert bear but above all, the sense of smell ruled supreme. Possessing by far the sharpest sense of smell of any land animal, this was even further enhanced by the Jacobson's organ, in the roof of the mouth, a feature bears share with cats and retained in weres, even in their human form, giving them an enhanced sense of smell. The barrel of a werebear's snout was almost entirely devoted to smell, with over 100 times the surface area inside the nasal passages compared to their human form. It was the were's central way of perceiving the world in this form. Scent became language; a completely different range of communication and understanding became possible, either of them could smell mood changes and identify them faster and more readily than they could have by looking at each other while in human shape.

The blending of enhanced senses, tremendous strength, regenerative ability and greater intelligence made werebears truly the most formidable creatures in the forest.

Rusty and Moose ambled along companionably, chuffing and growling to each other, commenting on an especially tasty berry bush ahead or the pregnant sow who had passed this way two days earlier. They stopped occasionally to mark a tree, urinating and standing on their hind legs, reaching up to claw the bark from the tree as high as they could stretch, rubbing the tree with the scent from the glands on their backs and necks.

Moose rumbled, chuffed and made other verbalization after he was finished, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; because I'm the biggest son of a bitch in the valley!”

Rusty woofed and growled in appreciation of the humorous but true comment; Moose's claw marks far outdistanced ones left by other males.

As the day wore on, they split up, wandering wherever their noses led them. Through ravines, up narrow washes, across open meadows; they roamed at will. Twice they crossed each other's path and each time, they mounted and vigorously plowed each other, roaring thunderously as each reached his climax, filling each other’s rectums with generous quantities of hot werebear seed. Other animals either fled in terror or scattered to safe hiding places, sensing something other than the usual ursine coupling. Nuzzling briefly, then going their separate ways, exploring, ever increasing the distance between themselves and the human world they had temporarily left behind.

Rusty made one special find, a hollow tree trunk that had been colonized by bees. Breaking into the comb, his prehensile tongue eagerly lapped up the sweet wild honey and bee larva. The numerous angry bees were ineffective in their attacks on his thick fur but his snout suffered. The stings healed rapidly, though; and the honey was sweet. Nearly two miles away, Moose's nose detected the complex odors of honey, Rusty and angry bee and he lumbered toward them at a rapid pace. They shared the last of the honey and then wandered off in different directions for more foraging.

Several miles away, another bear halted his foraging and raised his muzzle, inhaling deeply. The wind-carried scents told his sensitive nose of others of his kind; two, in fact. For an older werebear who now spent nearly all of his time in full ursine form, this was a rarity. It had been years since he had come across other weres in the wild. He wondered if these two were visitors or new residents. He altered his course and began moving purposefully towards his ursine brothers.

In the late afternoon, Rusty tracked Moose to a large rocky ledge he had found that looked out over a small valley. The ledge was backed by a cave and had a waterfall and pool close by, an ideal place to spend the night. They rumbled and chuffed a greeting to each other and nuzzled and licked each other’s faces. They each stretched out next to the other, their bellies absorbing the last of the sun's warmth radiating from the rock, rear legs kicked out behind, their great heads resting on forepaws. One, the larger, auburn fur glossy and thick; the other, smaller but striking, with a creamy coat tinged with faint orange. They were what they looked to be: two large, healthy bears in their prime, comfortably full from a day's foraging, taking their ease. They looked out contentedly; watching the sun edge down towards the horizon, then dip behind the ridge line across the valley from them.

Moose rolled on his side, his bear cock gradually easing out of his sheath, the flattened tip glistening with precum. He woofed at Rusty, who reached out a paw and gently nudged Moose in the chest and then rolled over himself. His own cock was already fully out of its sheath, his fur-covered balls snugged tight against his groin. Moose, seeing this, rolled on his back and motioned with a paw. Rusty heaved his bulk up and positioned himself between Moose's hind legs and flopped down so he was belly to belly and cock to cock with his mate. The clumsiness of bears was softened by the obvious joy they expressed in their movements. Rubbing and pressing into each other, hunching, licking, chewing on nips, nuzzling in each other’s thick aromatic fur; they expressed the same frank pleasure they found in one another’s body in their human forms.

Rusty's breathing became heavier and more rapid. Moose growled and raised his rear legs in open invitation. Rusty scrambled upright and as Moose raised his butt, centered his penis on the bigger bear's anus and pressed forward. The baculum-stiffened cock slid smoothly into Moose, who growled louder in pleasure. Rusty wuffed and set to work, tenderizing his lover's insides. Rusty fully intended to pull out and roll Moose onto his belly and finish the job in the classic bear position of all-fours but the intoxication of sex in full ursine form, all senses tingling on overload, pushed him over the edge. With a roar that caused night-resting birds to scatter in alarm, he came, filling Moose with his life. He pumped as his testicles contracted even more tightly and then, spent, eased down so he was lying on Moose's belly and chest. Moose folded his paws over Rusty and the two rested, letting their hearts and respiration return to normal. Eventually, they separated and fell asleep, pressed tightly against each other.

As the sun was coming up the next morning, Rusty awoke and padded off a ways to urinate. When he returned to the ledge, he found Moose awake, standing, with his bear cock fully extended and dripping. Rusty came as close as he could to chuckling in his full bear form and moved in to lick the sweet nectar from his lover's meat; Moose rumbled his enjoyment and his body responded by producing more of the fluid. He nudged Rusty around so he could mount him. Rusty eagerly complied, bracing himself for the heavier bear's weight. Moose heaved his bulk up and hunched over Rusty's back and butt, his rigid cock finding its way to what it sought. Entering, he growled and then took Rusty's muscled shoulder hump into his jaws and bit down, drawing blood. A human would have screamed out in pain but Rusty only felt waves of sexual pleasure as he was penetrated from behind while being firmly held; he loved it rough. He pushed back hard against the pole occupying his ass, growling and whuffing in ecstasy.

Blood seeped from the bite on Rusty's hump and Moose tasted it, the hot flavor increasing his lust. The feelings that cascaded into his brain were different than when he and Rusty bred in human form but no less pleasurable. Neither of the bears would ever be able to successfully communicate the range of feeling nor emotion their mating created in full werebear form; only another werebear could fully appreciate it. It was wonderful, a kaleidoscope of lust and tension and release and love.

Empty now, all seed pumped deep into his lover, Moose dismounted and watched as the bite wounds on Rusty's back quickly healed. Rusty turned to Moose and licked his muzzle and Moose playfully batted him on the side of his head.

A low growl from the bushes behind them caused both to turn. Standing there in mighty bulk was a grizzly, his brown fur shining in the morning sun; the huge bear wuffed at them. Eyes intent, he gazed first at one, then the other of the bears in front of him. Both Rusty and Moose were instantly on alert, growling, the fur starting to rise on their shoulders, both stood on their hind legs to appear as large as possible. The large bear growled again and swung his head back and forth. He stood on his hind legs and raked his claws diagonally across his chest and belly. Red furrows formed and bright red blood spurted; then quickly clotted as the furrows closed and healed, leaving hardly a mark. Moose and Rusty looked at each other and then back at the bear. They all dropped back to all fours and took a step forward, then another. Moose and Rusty moved in closer until they were all nose to nose. They all inhaled each other’s scent, the smells communicating a great deal more than simple speech could allow. The new bear's growls and wuffles expressed his appreciation for the vigorous fucking he'd witnessed and for the two bears in general. In turn Rusty and Moose indicated their appreciation of the ample bulk of the obviously successful bear in front of them.

In the course of the next hour, Moose and Rusty and the new bear got acquainted, exchanging information about their pasts. The new bear was much older, and Rusty recalled Boris having mentioned that some older weres turned completely feral; staying in full ursine form for the rest of their lives. They lived in seclusion, aloof from human contact. This bear didn't seem to be totally feral but had certainly shunned general society, spending most of his time foraging and wandering his range in full bear form. When Rusty started to change back to his human form, the big new bear swung his head from side to side again, making it obvious he did not wish to change form. Rusty backed off, remaining as a Kermode.

Moose and the new bear began a playful wrestling bout that turned into a prelude to a more sexual form of play. The three coupled and broke and licked, sucked and humped each other, forming a fraternal link in the age-old way of werebears. The big bear finally withdrew his still-rigid cock from Moose's ass, gave a last lick to Rusty's dripping meat and flopped down on his belly. Each had drained their balls into the others, filling both open maw and willing ass. The big, old bear had even taught the two younger weres a couple of very satisfying moves of his own. All three were pleasantly tired. Moose and Rusty pressed themselves against each side of the bear and the three of them napped in the morning sun.

When they awoke, the big grizzly was gone and the pair marveled to each other over the stealth of such a massive beast.

Their stomachs were grumbling, signaling the need to replenish energy stores expended in vigorous bearsex, so they headed off for a morning of foraging.

The rest of the second day was spent in several naps, a cooling splash in a small pond bordered by wild blueberry bushes and one more intense session of lovemaking. They denned for the night in a different cave, this one amidst a jumble of rocks. It had recently been occupied by a three year old male black bear, who was going to be greatly surprised and puzzled by the smells left behind when he returned. The gentle snores of the two bears were heard by nervous nocturnal forest creatures, who gave the site wide berth.

The following morning, both bears awoke, stretched and spent a good ten minutes each scratching itchy backs against a tall pine close to the cave. Rearing up to full height, Rusty raked his claws across the tree, noting with satisfaction that the previous occupant's scratch marks were lower than his. The two ambled their way back towards the car. They had come far in their wanderings and it wasn't until late afternoon that they reached the vehicle they had concealed. Carefully checking the area for any hikers or campers that might be unwelcome witnesses, Moose growled an 'all clear' and both began their changes back to human form. As the last of their bear pelts retreated to their more human density, Moose and Rusty embraced and kissed.

“Gods, that was good!” Rusty said, fondling Moose's hefty ball sack and kissing him again, “But who was that guy and why couldn’t I sense him?”

“I dunno, you’re the one with the spooky superpowers. I’m just the irresistible brutish sidekick, remember?” Moose said with a purposefully dumb look on his face.

Rusty rolled his eyes.

“I really get why some bears spend weeks in bear form,” Moose said and then reached for the keys he had concealed under a nearby rock. Fitting the key to the lock, he added, “Boris said there were some really old bears that stayed in full bear form all the time. I guess we met one”

Rusty nodded. “Right now, though, I'm happy the way we are. I miss my coffee! Let's get moving.” Moose and Rusty pulled their clothes on, folded the tarp carefully and stowed it in the back and climbed into the SUV.

Moose stopped and seemed to become aware of something for the first time, he sniffed at his pits, then turned his nose to Rusty and took two deep sniffs, “Man! We reek!” He smiled and Rusty gave him ‘the look’.

“Of course we reek, Norman. We smell like bear musk, the great outdoors and bear semen. We just spent two days fucking in the woods as bears, what did you expect? ... Midnight in Paris? But yeah, we’re going to need showers; our scent would be rather hard to explain,” he said while plucking a twig out of Moose's bushy beard, “and we need trims too! Just look at us Norman; we look like hillbilly mountain men!” Moose smiled at Rusty's still slightly fastidious nature.

Moose imitated the banjo music from Deliverance. “Yew shore got a’ attractive face hole, suuun.” Moose badly imitated a rustic southern accent.

Rusty took a playful swipe at his hubby and grinned back. “Good thing it’ll be well after closing time by the time we get back to the shop. Let’s just hope we don’t run into Brian before we get a chance to clean up; don’t know what he’d think. Our scent is powerful enough that after spending a few hours in here, I think we’re going to have to air it out or get it detailed or something.”

“Heh, sooo… no stopping off at a quaint lil’ restaurant along the way for us then, I suppose.” Moose chuckled and his belly gave a rumble.

Rusty laughed at the sound and rubbed his husband’s belly, “Awwww… Is my Norman hungry? My poor bear! I suppose those ‘just for show’ supplies we brought will come in handy after all!” Rusty said and dug around in the back seat for bags of chips, cookies, jerky and bottled water.

He retrieved the goodies and Moose reached for a bag and promptly got his paw slapped, “I got it, you concern yourself with starting up the car and getting us down the road, I’ll feed you while you drive.”

Moose pouted and Rusty petted his bushy bearded cheek and gave him a quick kiss. He turned the keys in the ignition and idled the car for a moment before putting it in gear.

Moose asked, “Can we keep the clothes unwashed for a while? I kinda like that wet bear scent we have right now.”

“I don’t see why not, well keep them in a cloth bag by the bed until the scent fades and then we’ll wash them, how’s that?” Rusty asked while the car trundled down the dirt road toward the highway. “Hell, I'll put some under my pillow,” Moose chuckled.

“Home, James!” the strawberry blond bear said with a grin as he opened up the extra-large super economy sized reseal-able plastic bag of ‘Sasquatch Links’ brand teriyaki pork jerky.

“Who's 'James'”? Moose asked.

- - - - - - - -

That same morning Rebekah blew into the coffee shop, quivering with righteous indignation. “Have you SEEN this?!”

“What?” Donovan asked. Rebekah slammed down the copy onto the counter of the Wolverton Tribune down on the counter.

“That!” pointing to an article below the fold on the front page, “Right there, plain as day. Valmer's at it again. It wasn't enough for him and his cronies to buy the last city council election, now he's trying to get rid of the shelter!” Rebekah's wild hair was even more disheveled when she was angry. It was flying now.

“He's trying to get the council to terminate their permit to run the shelter. Saying it's a...a...” Rebekah ran her finger down the newspaper column. “A detriment to the community's safety,” She snorted, “bull SHIT! … if there's any 'detriment', it Valmer and his cronies… detriment, my ass!” Rebekah snorted again and made a rude noise.

“Remind me never to make you mad, Bekah.” Donovan said, eying the knife Rebekah now held in her hand.

Rebekah pointed the knife blade at her co-worker. “I've lived in this town all my life, and my parents before me. I know things change, but ever since that man moved into town and started throwing his money and weight around, things around here have gone downhill. He out-bid local businesses, bought up those he could and I just KNOW he intimidated a couple of others to close up and leave. I'll never forgive him the way he undercut my dad's business. He's evil and he's up to no good at all, I just know it!” Rebekah's eyes flashed as she waved the knife blade. “And DON'T call me Bekah!”

“Easy!” Donovan said, backing slowly away from the irate woman with the fiery red hair.

“Oh. Sorry.” Rebekah put the knife on the counter. “I just get so damn mad when that man gets up to his... his... shenanigans! Sorry, didn't mean to scare you.” She angrily began scooping beans from the large foil bags and began feeding them into the grinder hoppers for the morning rush.

Donovan had learned that Rebekah sometimes got herself worked up over a perceived injustice and that it was best in these cases to simply let her vent and cool down on her own. He'd also learned as a youngster that when his mother was in a 'mood', it was best to find somewhere else to be. He elected to use that time-honored strategy now.

“I'm headed downstairs to get a couple a bags of beans and napkins… and stirrers. Oh and sugar, too. Need anything else?”

Rebekah grunted a “no” and continued to vigorously fill the grinders with today's selection of beans. Donovan headed downstairs and took an unusually long time to gather the needed supplies and bring them up.

- - - - - - - -

By the beginning of October, a mere five months since Rusty had found him huddled on the doorstep; Brian had turned into an able employee as well as a competent handyman. He’d finished installing cabinets in the storage room, painting it a burgundy and staining the cabinets a rich walnut. He’d also finished off the garage workout room, framing a wall to separate it from the parking area insulating it and painting it, too. Moose decided that Brian’s room should have built in shelving and closet space and told him to pick out any wallpaper or paint colors he desired. Moose had said, “I want you to feel at home, the room is yours for as long as you need it, you might as well decorate it the way you like.”

Brian chose a rich green for the room, trimmed in white and found framed art deco posters he rather liked at a thrift store to decorate the walls. His wardrobe had improved considerably, but he still preferred to buy from thrift stores rather than new; his time being homeless had taught him the value of reusing and gave him an eye for quality in used items. They looked good and were, of course, better for his budget, now that he actually had one. He’d also begun to save for a car and was actively trying to become self-sufficient. He kept the place in good repair, helping Rusty and Rebekah with the quarterly detail cleaning of the shop, and was working out well behind the counter. For someone who didn't know a coffee bean from a kidney bean, he had picked up behind the counter skills rapidly. He was pulling shots nearly as well as Rebekah, and better than Donovan.

His appearance had improved as well, though he hadn’t shaved off his beard; in fact he’d let it grow out longer. He’d trimmed it for shape and kept it well groomed. His beard now touched the top of his chest. His thick brown hair also grew rather fast and he hadn’t cut it either, keeping it in a short pony tail. It was a style that actually fit in with the bohemian atmosphere of the coffee shop. Rusty noted the young man filled out his employee coffee shop T-shirt much better now than he had even a month ago and had built some muscle doing morning exercises in his room and jogging. Moose had offered to help him weight train and he’d taken the bear up on it, working out in the back of the PT side of the building as well as using the heavier weight training equipment in the home gym he’d finished off in the garage. If anyone knew how to prevent pulled muscles and damage from lifting, it was Moose; the young man was very grateful for his help and knew he was in good hands.

But he never forgot his time on the street, and had begun to volunteer at the local shelter, helping prepare and serve the evening meal three nights a week and even hunting up donations on some of his days off.

“You think he does that just so he won't forget how it was? On the street, I mean... homeless.” Rebekah was busing tables while she asked Rusty his opinion of Brian's charitable work.

“More 'giving back', I think,” Rusty said, thoughtfully. “He’s luckier than a lot of those guys and he knows it. He might even feel a little guilty at his good fortune. So this is a kind of pay back for him.” Rusty paused. “Why don't you ask him, Bekah?”

“Hah... I think he's a little afraid of me.” She said, lifting the tray and heading to the kitchen.

“Well, that's understandable,” Rusty said, mock serious. He raised his voice as Rebekah disappeared through the swinging door into the kitchen. “I'm terrified of you.”

Rebekah poked her head back through the door. “You should be, Boss. Without me, this place would careen aimlessly out of control and sink in a sea of cappuccino foam… and you know it!”

Rusty chuckled and went back to his order sheets. Brian came out of the kitchen door, and seeing Rusty, queried, “What's Rebekah supposed to ask me?”

“Oh, nothing, it's not really important... but she thinks you are afraid of her.” he said, smiling.

Brian rubbed his nose. “I am.... a bit. She's so... intense, sometimes.”

“Yeah, she is that. Hey, are you headed to the shelter? It's not your night, is it?”

“Yeah... not my regular, but I'm filling in for Beverly; she's down with the flu. But I'll be back in time to check the alarms and turn stuff off, no worries.”

Rusty eyed Brian's footwear. An early purchase of his had been a new pair of sneakers. They were a particularly bright shade of purple. When those had become too stained and worn, the young man had purchased another, this time in bright orange. “Ummm... nice shoes, Brian,” Rusty said with a grin to the handsome youngster.

“Ah... you like? I really should wear the old ones, but I need to break these in.” Brian stuck one foot out. “Whaddya think about lime green laces for these?”

“I think you're asking the wrong person, is what I think,” Rusty chuckled, “anyway, take care. See you later.” Rusty looked after the departing figure and thought, not for the first time, that he had chosen wisely to befriend the homeless young man.

'He's a good worker, and he's filled out nicely, almost stocky now,' he thought to himself, remembering the half-starved figure he had fed breakfast to almost half a year ago. 'He's quite a handsome cub. I just wish he could find someone he likes and who likes him back.' Rusty looked at the order form again, wondering if he should order more Jamaican Blue Mountain or leave the order as is.

Chapter 7

The night air wafted in through the partially open windows in the bears' bedroom. Like most bears, Rusty and Moose kept the windows open in all but the most inclement weather, enjoying temperatures cooler than most humans did. Their were metabolisms ran at a higher temperature than their former human ones had. Moose turned from his back to his side and cuddled Rusty close to his furry front, his hard-on nestling into Rusty’s butt-crack as he snored gently. Rusty smiled in his sleep.

It was about two months after their weekend in the National Forest, and the weather had cycled from summer into fall and winter wouldn’t be too far behind. The nights were starting to get cold, and the days were no longer as warm as they had been. Brian was still taking Zach's place, ostensibly on a temporary basis, but Rusty and (probably more importantly) Rebekah had it firmly in mind that the job was Brian's for as long as he wished to stay. He exhibited a knack for being able to work in and around the others without ever getting in the way... a skill that was uncannily like Rebekah's own. When Zach returned, he would have his hours back, and that would give Rusty more time away from the day to day running of the cafe. Brian's work also meant that Rusty could sleep in more mornings than before, something he (and Moose) thoroughly enjoyed. The previous night, when Moose had started to set the alarm for the next morning, Rusty had stopped him, saying, “Hey! It's not a school day tomorrow, remember? I don't have to get up!”

“Oh, I'll bet you can get it up!” Moose had growled as he pushed the clock back on the nightstand and reached for his furry lover. The evening had passed in a happy blur of bearsex and love until, finally tired out, the two had fallen asleep, sprawled across their huge bed amidst the tangled sheets and pillows.

- - - - - - - -

The old bear lifted his head and sniffed the breeze again; fire. It was definitely fire, but not just wood burning. Other things... human things. The stench of plastic was particularly strong to his nose, though others might have missed it. The old bear had been sleeping peacefully, dreaming of long afternoon rambles in the late summer and of bushes filled with delectable berries, when the first thin wisps of foreign odors had reached his sensitive nose. Equipped with one of the most acute senses of smell of any land mammal, he had rapidly surfaced into full alertness. At first he had been unconcerned, because of the direction and distance of the smells. But the complex mixture of odors in the smoke contained something that shouldn't be there, something oily and wrong. Gasoline. An old curiosity, long buried in the old grizz, surfaced. He decided he would investigate a bit. He heaved his bulk up and began moving through his territory towards the fire.

- - - - - - - -

“Norman.” Rusty nudged his mate with his elbow. Norman grunted and quickly returned to snoring. Rusty nudged harder. “Norman!”

“Whaaaa?” Moose snorted half awake. “It's only been a couple of hours. Jack off if you need to, but I need to sleep.” He burrowed down deeper into the nest of pillows.

“Get UP Norman! I smell smoke.” Moose snored. Rusty's sharpened were sense of smell told him the suspect odor wasn't coming from their building, but from somewhere further away.

Grumbling, Rusty got up and walked quickly to the open window and stuck his head out. The street below was deserted, and there were no traffic sounds at all in the black night. But, as he had thought, there was a definite taint of smoke on air, probably too faint yet for human noses. He scanned the view and saw what looked like a faint glow off to his right, some distance off. He padded back to the bed and shook Moose's shoulder. No response. He leaned over and took his bear's right nipple in his mouth and bit, not too hard, knowing this was an unfailing way to bring Moose to full attention.

“The fuck?!” Moose was almost instantly awake and alert. “I said I needed to sleep, you horny little fuck! Why did...”

“Norman. Smoke. Fire.” He dragged his lover out of the bed and pushed him towards the window. By now, Moose also smelled the smoke. He stuck his head out the window as Rusty had done a few minutes previously. Rusty put both paws on Moose's head and moved it to the right. “There. See?”

“Shit... where is that? Is that by the park? It's too close to be the forest.” Moose pulled his head inside. They looked at each other for a moment only before they got the same thought at the same time. “The shelter!”

“Call the fire department. Don't mess with 911; it's quicker to call the firehouse. It's on speed dial,” Rusty said to Moose. He was pulling clothes on as Moose spoke with whoever was on duty at the fire station. He pulled clothes for Moose while Moose gave details on what they had seen. “I'll go get the first aid kit, meet you downstairs.”

Rusty tumbled down the stairs and grabbed the large first aid kit from off the wall in the kitchen. Moose followed moments later. By the time they had reached the SUV, there were sirens sounding in the distance as the first of the Wolverton fire engines pulled out of the station. The smell of smoke was stronger now, the light wind blowing it in their direction. They pulled out onto the street and raced towards the center of town. They rounded the old town square with its war memorial statue and park benches and tore down Jefferson, the street that led towards the shelter on the outskirts of town.

As they neared the site, they could see flames leaping higher into the sky, and the acrid stench of burning building caught in their noses and throats. The first of the fire engines had already reached the scene and had hooked up hoses and were aiming thick streams of water onto the fire. Ruth Henderson, the co-director of the shelter was surrounded by a few other staff and some of the shelter's clients. She was gesturing frantically towards the building and shouting at one of the firemen. Brian wasn't among them.

Rusty and Moose hurried up to another fireman. “Can we help? We're looking for one of our employees who was volunteering here tonight. We don't see him. His name's Brian.” Moose said.

“Sorry, I'm really busy now... ask the captain over there.” the harassed fire fighter said, gesturing hurriedly in the direction of the clump of employees and shelter clients. Rusty and Moose moved quickly in the direction the captain had indicated.

“Excuse me...” Moose had started, tapping a young woman on the shoulder. “WHAT?” she snapped, turning so fast she nearly hit Moose with the clipboard she was carrying. “Can't you see I'm trying to get a count here... Oh, I'm sorry Mr. Masterson!” She looked embarrassed and harried at the same time as recognition flickered across her smudged face. She was a regular at the Brown Bear and recognized both Rusty and Moose as the 'nice gay couple who had rehabbed that old building down on 12^th’.

“We're looking for Brian. I know it's not his usual night but he was filling in...”

“Anyone seen Brian?” the young woman called out. No one spoke up, but several shook their heads.

Finally, one soot-covered man in a ratty duffel coat said, “I seen him earlier. He was getting blankets from the store room, I think.

The young woman turned back to Moose and Rusty. “I thought I saw him out here a few minutes ago. I know he was taking Beverly's place tonight in the kitchen. Are you sure he not out here?” She peered anxiously at Moose.

Rusty thought 'How would we know if he's out here, we just GOT here,' but he bit his tongue and stayed silent. Things were obviously a mess and it would just be quicker to search on their own. “Come on Norman; let her get on with it.” He turned. “We'll look for Brian,” he said to the woman.

Moose nodded and they moved off. An elderly man, bent nearly double with a wracking cough, pulled on Moose's sleeve. “I seen your guy...” The next words were broken off with a spasm of coughing, a combination of smoke and bronchitis. Between coughs, the old man got out that he had seen Brian behind the counter in the supper line, and later heading back towards the storerooms.

“Did you see him come out? Did he get out? Did you see him with anyone else?” Rusty's rapid-fire questions seemed only to provoke another coughing fit in the old man.

Moose reached over and straightened the man upright as much as was possible and asked him, “Where are the storerooms? What direction are they?” The man gestured towards the larger building that lay behind the two smaller buildings in front that were now fully engulfed in flames. He suddenly sat down as if all strength had left his body.

“Wait! Where are you going?” Rusty shouted as Moose began to run towards the buildings.

Moose checked and turned back toward Rusty. “You stay here, look for Brian. He probably got out but I'm going to go around and check out the storerooms before the fire gets that building, too. I'll be careful. Look for Brian!” Moose turned back and before Rusty could say any more, ran off towards the fire.

For all his beefy bulk, Moose could move fast when he needed to, and he rapidly dodged fire hoses and clumps of homeless clients huddled with blankets and dazed looks. Firemen shouted at him and one moved to stop him. He rounded the corner of the rightmost building that served as a dormitory and that was now becoming fully engulfed, it's roof caving in with a roar and a shower of sparks. The cave-in diverted the fireman's attention momentarily and Moose disappeared into the smoke.

As soon as he felt he was safely out of sight, Moose stepped out of his shoes and changed to half form, stretching the loose sweater and sweats skin-tight across his bulky frame. The swirling smoke and ash stung his eyes and assaulted his greatly enhanced sense of smell. Through the murk he could see flames leaping higher against the sides of the building he was about to enter. 'Nothing for it,' he thought. He pushed against the door closest to him after first feeling the surface. It was warm but not hot, and he proceeded into the darkened interior. He groped for a light switch, just in case there was still power to the building, but he was not rewarded with any increase in illumination. Grunting, he felt his way down the hall as his eyes adjusted to the gloom. He could see flames through windows to his left, and an ominous glow at the end of the hallway.

In half form, he had never been able to speak clearly, although he could generally make himself understood. He wondered if that was a talent that came with practice, or maybe just age. 'Focus, dammit!' he thought. “Brian! Are you in here, Brian? Can you hear me?” he bellowed. 'Even if Brian can't understand everything I'm saying, he should hear his name, close enough,' Moose thought. “Brian!” There was no response.

If anything, the smoke got thicker as he progressed down the hall. He bumped hard into something in the smoke-filled hallway. Reaching down, he felt metal and glass, not a body, and moved on. “Brian!” Still nothing. Again, he bumped into an object in the dark, this time softer. Bending down, he could tell by feel and scent that this was human. Not waiting to investigate further, he scooped up the bundle and backtracked down the hallway and out into the spark-filled night.

Laying the bundle down on the walkway, he could see that it was not Brian, but definitely one of the shelter's clients. Dressed in mismatched clothes and a very dirty jacket, he also wore a scruffy, tobacco-stained grey beard. The man was obviously alive, mumbling and still breathing, eyes tightly closed. Moose moved back swiftly out of the homeless man's vision and headed back into the building. He was loping now, fearful that the fire would cut off access to other parts of the building. The heat was noticeably more intense. He crashed into the metallic cart again, and cut the bottom of his left hind foot pad on broken glass. Ignoring the brief pain, he pushed on. “BRIAN!” Nothing.

Moose was about to round a corner when, with a crash and a roar and a blast of heat and sparks, the ceiling collapsed almost in front of him, embers stinging his back. “Fuck!” he growled as he jumped back. 'Fire's in the attic now. NOT good,' he thought. He put out his paw and felt the wall next to him flex slightly. He suddenly remembered that Brian had mentioned that some of the larger spaces had been subdivided onto to smaller areas with studs and wallboard, to give more privacy in sleeping arrangements. He wondered if the same had been done here. He pushed again, harder. His paw went through the plaster-filled wallboard. 'Yes!' he thought as he pushed his way through the partition. 'I should be able to get over to the other hall this way.' “Brian!” Sill nothing. 'Oh, WHY don't you answer?'

Moose shoved his way through the next partition, thankful for his were-enhanced strength. Unaware of exactly where he was, he simply reached out until he felt a wall and then crashed through it. He recoiled almost instantly when he encountered a wall of flame. “DAMMIT!” The flames parted for a moment, and he could see that, instead of the expected hallway, there was a larger open space directly in front of him. In that space was huddled a figure, dressed in what looked like a white food worker's jacket and jeans, along with bright orange sneakers.

The flames closed over the opening again. Moose turned his head away and took as deep a breath as he could coughing from the soot and smoke swirling around him. Gasping again, filling his bear lungs as much as he could, he turned back, gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. He charged through the wall of flame, feeling the heat sear the fur and fabric along his arms and back and head. In a moment, he was through the fire and in the open space. His scorched skin hurt, but not too badly. He knelt and rolled the crouched figure over. It was Brian. He was still breathing.

Moose looked around and again felt the walls. Again they flexed slightly. 'Good, more partitions… thank God for small favors!' Eying the flames he knew he could not carry Brian out the way he came. He punched through the partition and saw on the other side the hallway he had been seeking, smoke-filled but at the moment blessedly free of fire. He stuck his singed body out and looked in both directions. To his right, he thought he could make out a window, or perhaps a door with a window in it, a short distance off. He quickly returned to Brian and began to lift him. Brian's eyes flickered open briefly. He struggled at the sight of the large bearish looking figure that was, apparently, getting ready to kill and perhaps eat him.

“Hold still, Brian, dammit, it's OK. Hang on.” Moose growled, doing his best to make himself understood as he lifted the still struggling figure. With a low moan, Brian passed out. 'Fireman's carry, fireman's carry... how the hell do I do a fireman's carry? Oh, fuck it,' Moose thought, finally slinging Brian over his shoulder, like a sack of potatoes, gripping him tight, stumbled out through the hole in the wall he had just made. Turning to the right, he made his way towards the dim square of light he could barely see. Reaching it, he could tell it was a door. He tried the knob with his almost-human hand, but it would not turn. He tried again with greater force and twisted the knob completely off the door. Still it would not open. He turned and carefully eased Brian off his shoulder and set him down, leaning him against the wall. Brian stirred and briefly opened his eyes. Moose couldn't tell if he focused his eyes on the bearman standing over him or not. Brian's eyes fluttered closed and his head sagged.

Moose looked quickly down the hall and saw the fire advancing rapidly. He hunkered down, his muscles remembering the positions they took when Moose had been a linebacker many years ago. He bunched his shoulders and took a deep breath, coughed, and then launched himself towards the door. The frame and door shuddered under the impact. Moose almost lost his footing as he reeled back from the impact. The door held. He set again, and again launched himself at the door. There was a splintering sound and a crack, but the door almost miraculously still held. 'One more time,' Moose thought to himself; again the set, and again the launch. This time the door broke free with a loud crack. The sudden back draft caused the fire to roar louder and a blast of hot flame reached out towards Brian's supine body. Moose quickly picked up the unconscious young man and, carrying him in front to use his body as a shield from the searing heat of the inferno behind him, plunged out into the smoke-filled outside air.

Behind him, the entire roof and attic area of the building collapsed in on itself with a roar and a fountain of living embers and sparks. Flames shot high into the sky. Heavy tracers of water being shot from the fire truck in front of the building moved over and played more on the rear side of the building, arcing over the burning walls. Moose lay Brian on the ground, and carefully sniffed him. He was still breathing -- raggedly, but breathing. Moose reversed his change, returning to full human form. He slipped his shoes back on. His sweater was ruined and his sweat pants in tatters, but it couldn't be helped. He quickly picked up the unconscious shelter tenant he had lain down earlier, then reached down and picked up Brian, easing his body across his shoulders and staggered out in front of the building, in full sight of the firemen, a couple of reporters, the homeless shelter's staff and clients and Rusty.

Rusty cried out and ran to Moose, grabbing a blanket on the run. He reached his lover and helped get the other man out of Moose's arms and on the ground. Brian began to stir, and then joined Moose in a prolonged coughing fit brought on by too much smoke and not enough air.

Once more, Moose lay Brian on the ground, panting and coughing. A paramedic rushed to them, quickly assessed the situation and started to work on Brian. Another medic ran over and began to administer oxygen to the homeless man on the ground next to Brian. Rusty draped the blanket across Moose's wet shoulders. “Norman! Are you all right? Norman! Talk to me!” Rusty was frantic, and between coughing fits, Moose did his best to reassure his mate that he was fine. Rusty alternated between stroking Moose's back and face and looking anxiously at Brian. Finally, the burly paramedic stood up and faced the two bearmen.

“That was a awesome brave thing you did there, sir.” He nodded at the collapsing, burning building behind them. “They'd be dead now, burned to a crisp, if it hadn't been for you.”

Moose interrupted. “Nah, I found them outside the back door, on the ground, I just picked them up and brought him out here, that's all.”

“Still, if you hadn't done that, they might have...” The paramedic let the thought hang. “Anyway, this one seems OK, but there are burns on his back that need dressing, and he should have oxygen for a while, given all the smoke he must have inhaled. I think we'll take the young guy in too, just to be on the safe side. You know him?”

“He works for me,” Rusty responded, “we'll be responsible for the medical. Can one of us go with him?”

“Sorry, no room, I got another guy in there already. You're welcome to follow me if you want. Your guy looks OK,” he said gesturing towards Moose, “but he should be checked out, too.”

“I'm fine, really.” Moose made a kind of shooing motion with his soot-grimed hands. The paramedic nodded and helped Brian up and walked with him to the waiting ambulance. In short order, he was pulling out, siren blaring and lights flashing. Rusty and Moose piled into their car and followed. On the way there, Rusty drove but constantly asked Moose if he was OK.

Finally, Moose snapped, “I'm FINE, OK? Give it a rest.”

Rusty was stung and more than a little hurt by Moose's outburst. His old pattern of behavior surfaced briefly and he pouted. Soon, though, he quietly asked, “What's wrong, love?”

Moose seemed lost in thought. “Lover, what's bothering you?” Rusty divided his attention between the road and ambulance ahead of him and his mate beside him.

“I think he may have seen me. Brian, I mean, not the other one; as a bear.”

“As a bear? I thought you said that you just picked him up off the ground outside...” Rusty stopped as the implication of what Moose has just said sunk in.

“That was for everyone else’s ears, but I didn't, really. I changed and went inside.” Rusty looked at Moose but said nothing. “Well, I figured I'd have to lift things or something. I found the first one in the hall and took him out. I went back in to look for Brian and found him in one of the storerooms. I had to break through walls to get to him and get out before the whole place caved in. We just made it. He was unconscious when I got to him but he surfaced a couple of times before we got out and I had a chance to change back. I think he may have seen me.” Moose looked worried.

“We'll sort it out later, love. Right now, let's hope Brian is OK.” Rusty turned the SUV into the hospital drive and parked as the ambulance drove to the Emergency entrance. They both hurried to ambulance. The beefy paramedic they had spoken to earlier told them to wait a moment. Once he was through getting the gurney-bound victim out and into the hands of the hospital crew, he came back. “Go through that door and tell them at the desk who you're here for. They'll take care of you.”

“Thanks.” Moose said, with Rusty already heading towards the door.

“No, man... thank you! You saved two lives there tonight; and carrying both of them out at once... damn! I lift pretty heavy and I’m not sure I could have done that.” The paramedic reached out and shook Moose's hand firmly, and he got back in the ambulance as the radio crackled. He keyed the mic. “On my way.” he said as he closed the door and started the engine. Moose followed Rusty into the ER.

- - - - - - - -

The old bear had moved with surprising swiftness through the forest. Fire in the woods was never a good thing, and although he could tell that this fire was still largely one that involved human buildings, the potential for it spreading was reason for concern. It had been a dry two years in the northwest. He sensed that the fire was just over the next ridge.

He was getting near to human habitat, something that he did not care much for. Over recent decades he had found himself less and less involved with human concerns. He much preferred full ursine form, and only on the rarest of occasions changed to human form and ventured to mix with those he had once shared an existence.

His curiosity was piqued. In one of his former identities, he had been employed as an insurance investigator, and the combined scents of fire and gasoline nearly always spelled criminal activity. Not always, but often enough. The grizz had no intention of shifting into human form unless it became truly necessary, but he was more curious about this particular event than he had been about any human occurrence in many years. Perhaps it was because of his recent meeting with the young weres who had come to live in this area. As he moved up the slope of the ridge, he thought of the pair and that it might be pleasant to meet up with them again. His balls still itched now and again; and even at his great age, he enjoyed a good fuck as much as the next bear.

He reached the top of the ridge, his eyes stinging now from the smoke. Looking down, he saw a set of buildings on the outskirts of the town fully engulfed in fire, with fire trucks arranged in front, doing their best to keep the fire from spreading to the nearby trees. He saw something else, too... a dark figure, standing in the shadows of the trees, intently watching.

- - - - - - - -

“Yeah, it's done; just like you wanted.” Keith paced as he spoke into the phone nervously. “Of course I did, you think I'm stupid or something? No. Gasoline. Like I told you, just like you said. No, there won't be nothin' left, well, nothin' usable. What? Yeah, I guess some got out. Huh? How should I know? ... I didn't take a head count! Oh, who cares anyway... it's just old homeless guys, who's even gonna notice?” Keith sat carefully on the splintered tree stump, suddenly tired as the adrenalin rush of the earlier hours wore off. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Well, it wouldn't be you getting in trouble anyway, now, would it? Yeah? Well, you just get the rest of my money in my account. No, you listen... I said LISTEN!” Keith stood up. “I want that money deposited by tomorrow night, you hear? Don't give me that shit, man, I put myself on the line for your little land scheme. Yeah, so you say. Just get that money in the bank, or... What? Don't threaten me, Valmer, or someone may hear a lot about that little plan of yours. You might not like.... Valmer? Don't fucking hang up on me! Valmer? Shit! ... Fuck!” Keith threw the burner phone against the nearest tree in a rage. “Of all the motherfucking...” His eyes grew wide as the huge bear reared up from behind the bushes next to the tree. He stood very still, breathing hard. The bear moved and the moon glinted softly on long, sharp, curved claws. “Oh, shit! ...” he said quietly.

The old grizz had heard enough. Though he was far more the bear and much less the human he once had been these days, he still had some vestige of humanity left deep within. What the human in front of him had done repulsed him. The casual snuffing out of innocent life for profit made a rare, hot anger rise in him like lava. He flexed his forepaw and extended the wicked claws there and deliberately, almost in slow motion, swung his paw out and across, eviscerating the man with one stroke. Hot blood sprayed out, spattering the trees and soaking the front of the bear. The human stood for several moments, a gurgle in his throat and a look of utter astonishment on his face. He looked down and watched with dull comprehension as lengths of his intestines, gray and shiny, looped and tangled as they sagged out of the bloody ribbons of flesh that had been his abdomen. His mouth opened as he tried to force sound out but only a dribble of dark blood passed his lips.

As the light faded from his eyes, Keith toppled over, his head impacting the edge of the splintered stump that had been a seat for him just a few minutes before. One particularly jagged splinter of wood, sharp and resinous, penetrated his left eye, and punctured through the rear of the eye socket, penetrating deep into his brain. Impaled and eviscerated, he died.

The great bear shook his paw free of bits of tangled guts and padded off into the trees, shaking his great head. He’d go wash in the nearby stream. He wasn’t going to lick the blood off; he didn’t want any of that despicable creature’s blood or flesh on him or in him. 'Leave him for the buzzards, coyotes and insects to consume', the bear thought.

... continue reading Chapters 8-11

PapaWereBear has other werebear stories at http://www.geocities.com/papawerebear1

UrsusMajr has further, non-werebear, stories on the Nifty.org site, in the Gay Male/Adult Friends section, under the directory "Bear".

PapaWereBear and UrsusMajr have another joint werebear story that will appear on Nifty.org, called Mack. Look for it under the Gay Male/Adult Friends section.

Happy reading!