Page 52 of Bear With Me

"Says the bar owner!" Bjorn teased, leading the way out of the exhibit hall and toward the museum's front door. As they reached the large doors, he paused and glanced over his shoulder at Dennis, looking thoughtful. "And, ok, I'm a little…nervous. About being alone with you."

Caught by surprise by that, Dennis blinked. They'd been alone lots of times. Maybe it wasn't so much alone, as alone in a dark room with intention? "Bjorn, we don't have to do anything you don't want to -"

"No!" Bjorn yelped, whipping back around and pushing through the door. "It's not that," he muttered as they emerged onto the street. "I just…I want to make a good impression. I want this night to be perfect for you. So you choose me."

Goddammit. So much pressure, the man was applying to himself. He sighed and drew Bjorn to a stop on the sidewalk. "Bjorn…"

Bjorn held up a staying hand and started walking again, determinedly. "I know you probably won't, or at least not tonight. I understand that. But…a bear's gotta have hope, sometimes."

Dennis wasn't sure what to say to that, largely because he remained entirely unsure what he hoped the end of tonight would be. Part of him screamed to bond the sweet man and dive into his new life; the rest of him was urging caution and for him to keep Bjorn's teeth away from his neck. The trouble was, the reckless side was growing louder with each minute he spent on this date and he wasn't sure how long he could resist giving in to it.

After what must have been an uncomfortably long silence, Bjorn sighed and turned away from him, starting to walk again. "You don't gotta tell me, I promise. I won't pressure you anymore."

Dennis was momentarily paralyzed by his indecision, and by the time he got himself moving, Bjorn was a good fifteen feet away. He quick-stepped to catch up, then grabbed Bjorn's dangling hand, deciding that a little humor wouldn't go amiss. "Hey, don't wander too far away from me. I don't want you to get lost. That hotel bed will feel empty as hell if you get lost and can't spoon me."

Bjorn offered him a tiny smile. "But then there'd be nobody to push you out of bed, either."

Dennis shrugged. "I'm getting used to it. My ass is building up calluses."

"Oh my god, that would be awful," Bjorn chuckled, wincing. "Imagine having a callused ass, and having to explain that when you got naked in the locker room? 'No, see, my mate knocks me on the floor so often that I built these up'. They'd want to call the cops on me!"

"Nah." Dennis shook his head firmly as they came into sight of the hotel. "I'd just tell the cops you'd never hurt me on purpose. And anyone who's staring at my ass in the locker room can damn well keep their opinions to themselves. Well, I guess unless they want to tell me how spectacular an ass it is," he added musingly. Though that would probably make any future visits to the gym awkward as hell.

Bjorn softened noticeably, pushing open the hotel's door and holding it for him. "I'm glad you trust I wouldn't hurt you. I swear if you choose me, I'll do everything I can to make you safe and happy."

Dennis squeezed the hand he was still holding. Sweet man. How the hell had Bjorn ended up stuck with having to choose either Dennis's grumpy ass or losing his shifter identity? "I know, Bjorn," he assured him. "It's not about that." Wanting to avoid the obvious next question, he led the way to the elevator and pressed the button to call it. "Hmm, slow elevator."

Bjorn gave him a knowing look at the subject change. Right, his mate wasn't dumb, for all that he played a sunshine-y ditz sometimes. "I'd like to know what it is about," he said quietly as the elevator opened in front of them and they stepped in, alone. "You don't have to tell me, but it might help, you know, to talk it out."

Dennis sighed. He was probably right, but Dennis wasn't a sharer by nature. It felt…uncomfortable to open himself up like that. He was still thinking this over when the elevator deposited them on their floor. Still thinking when Bjorn swiped them into their room.

Whoa.

19

Bjorn

Dennis stopped short on the threshold, gaping at the opulent room. They'd been in a rush to get to the museum when they'd checked in, so they'd just picked up their key cards, dropped their bags, and run without going to their room. And he’d probably figured that Bjorn had booked them something nicer than Dennis would pick for himself, just based on Bjorn’s horrified-but-smug reaction to Dennis’s talk about his hotel standards, but Bjorn bet he hadn’t expected…this.

The room they’d walked into appeared to be a sitting room. It was furnished with an enormous white leather sectional and an equally enormous television on one end of the room, with a dining table with eight chairs on the other end. Who booked a hotel suite and needed to bring seven other people over, come to think of it? Did people book hotels to hold dinner parties? “Whoa,” Dennis managed as Bjorn tugged him past the threshold and started to take off his own shoes. Then he knelt to try to remove Dennis’s. Dennis tried to help, but his feet tangled in his half-removed shoes and he started to topple. Bjorn grabbed him around the hips to steady him. His face ended up pressed into Dennis’s groin area.

Was that…Dennis’s cock twitching against his cheek? He suppressed a smile. He was still worried about their mating’s fate, of course he was, but at least he knew his mate wasn’t unaffected by him. He could work with that.

“Uh…I think I’m good now.” Dennis’s voice was a little high. Nerves, or was he just turned on? Perhaps both, to be fair.

Bjorn took another moment to make sure Dennis wasn’t going to fall again and then released him. “Foot up,” he ordered, then yanked Dennis’s right shoe off when he obeyed wordlessly. He did the same for the left, then set the shoes aside and stood.

Dennis met his eyes embarrassedly. “Uh…sorry about the, uh...” He gestured self-consciously to his crotch.

He waved that way. “No need to apologize.” Bjorn could afford to be magnanimous; his mate’s cock had hardened for him! “So. Room service?”

Dennis nodded and turned, going to the desk to fetch the provided menu. “What are you in the mood for? Steak, salad, burger?”

“Hmm.” Bjorn considered that. “Well, I had sliders at the museum, so I think I’m probably burger-ed out. And a salad just sounds boring. Do they have any good pastas?”

Dennis offered him the menu, and he scanned it. Oh, shrimp scampi over linguini. That sounded delicious. He handed the menu back. “Well, I know what I want.” Then something occurred to him. Oh shit, garlic breath. Dennis wouldn’t want to kiss him if he reeked of garlic! “On second thought…” He reached for the menu again, but Dennis pulled it away and made a show of studying it himself.

“Ooh, how do you feel about garlic bread?” Dennis asked, looking up at him again. “I want pizza and garlic knots.”