Worlds Apart - 8. Weirdo in a Strange Land

Siku’s eyes adjusted to the darkness of the bar, lit primarily by red lighting.

Most of the patrons inside were in their mid-40s or 50s, and they glanced casually at Siku, sizing him up and then one-by-one breaking out into wide grins when they got past the big bulge in his jeans and noticed the cat sitting on his shoulder.

“You don’t look like the average tourist,” a jolly-looking portly fellow with a bald head and bushy beard said, standing at one end of the bar. He waved Siku to come and join his group of friends.

“No,” Siku replied, walking over to the bar, “I just moved here today. I’m from Canada. This is my first night out on the town.”

“You’re already halfway to becoming one of us, sexy,” the man said. “Only a San Francisco weirdo would hit the bars with their cat.”

“Oh,” Siku said, “This is Charlie. I’ve only had her a few days, and she doesn’t like to leave my side… or my shoulder, I suppose. I thought that most huma… I mean Americans took their pets with them everywhere.”

“Tiny little toy dogs that can fit in a lady’s purse, yes,” the friendly man replied, “Cats, not so much. But like I said, you’re going to fit in with the City crowd just fine.”

Siku grinned at the man and looked around at his friends.

“Where I’m from in Canada,” Siku said, slyly, “It’s customary when meeting new friends to give them each a big hug and then buy them a beer. Should I consider you all new friends?”

The portly bald man smiled and opened his arms wide. Siku went around the whole group, giving each a big hug and discreetly pressing his nose against their necks, inhaling their scents. They were five pleasant-smelling human men who he could already tell found him sexually attractive, but there was not a werebear or a kindred in the bunch.

Siku waved for the bartender, who was a tallish young man with long curly brown hair and a thin scruffy beard, working shirtless to show off his hairy chest.

“What are you all drinking?” Siku asked the group.

“Speakeasy Double Daddy Imperial IPA,” the bald man said casually, letting the long name roll off his tongue with practiced ease. “It’s a local microbrew.”

“Um, yeah,” Siku said, turning back to the bartender. “Six of those.”

“I’ll need your credit card to open a tab,” the bartender said. And Siku quickly pulled out his wallet and handed it over.

The bartender looked at it and then back up at the huge man with the cat on his shoulder.

“Siku,” the bartender said, reading the name off the card, “That’s it? No last name?”

“Nope, that’s it. Just Siku.”

“Like Madonna or Cher,” the bald man said with amusement. “Just look at him, Logan. There can be only one Siku.”

Logan shrugged his shoulders and set the card on the counter behind the bar with the rest of the customers with open tabs and started pouring the beers.

“Well,” the bald man said, “Now that we’ve hugged and you’ve bought us beers, I guess we’re friends. You should probably know the rest of our names. I’m Grant, and these four are Simon, Rodney, Wayne and Maury.”

Each of the middle-aged bearded men raised their hands and smiled when Grant called out their names.

“Siku is an unusual name,” Maury commented. “What, uh… ethnicity is that?”

“The name comes from the Alaskan Native American language,” Siku replied, “It means ‘Ice’.”

“Your parents must have named you for the color of your eyes,” Simon said, “Not that you have an icy stare, but they’re the same color blue as the ocean when it freezes. I could look at those eyes all night.”

“I’m sure you could,” Rodney said with a smirk, “Preferably on your back.”

“Bitch, I know you’re not calling me a whore,” Simon said to Rodney, shooting daggers with his eyes.

“Is that like the pot calling the kettle black?” Siku asked with amusement.

“More like the whore calling the whore a whore,” Wayne replied. “If we were the Golden Girls, we’d all be Blanche.”

Logan came down to their end of the bar with six beers on a tray. After handing them out, Siku grabbed him behind the head and gave him a kiss across the bar, secretly smelling him as he did so. Another regular non-kindred human, although Logan’s face was flushed red and he was sending off waves of arousal after Siku let him go.

“Oh my God,” Grand said, “You made Logan blush! I didn’t think that anything could ever fluster that boy after working in here for a couple years!”

“I, uh,” Logan mumbled. “He’s pretty hot, you know. And… I like cats.”

Logan quickly retreated down to the other end of the bar as the six men erupted in laughter.

****

As the evening went on, the place got more crowded, and more men came over to the group of regulars standing at the end of the bar with the tall slab of fresh meat with the orange cat on his shoulder.

Siku greeted everyone in a friendly manner, and pulled them in for a hug, subtly scenting each one on the neck. He was picking up a lot of pheromones and testosterone, but no kindred scent markers from anyone yet.

After his sixth Speakeasy Double Daddy Imperial IPA, Siku excused himself to go to the restroom. The row of four urinals seemed awfully close together to Siku, and there were no dividers between them, but they were all currently empty, and he stepped up to the one on the left end.

Somebody ought to do something about the lighting situation in here, he thought to himself as he pulled out his cock and began to piss into the urinal. There’s barely enough light to see.

As his stream continued to flow, a man with a shaved head and a goatee beard walked into the restroom and stepped up to the urinal on Siku’s right side leaving no empty urinal in between. He pulled out his own cock, and Siku couldn’t help but notice that rather than pissing, he was stroking his cock, growing hard.

Siku’s flow stopped and as he began to shake off the last drops, the man reached out with his left hand and grasped Siku’s member, stroking it like his own.

Siku was shocked that a human would be so bold as to touch him sexually before even saying “hello” or asking his name, and it irritated him. He was just about to tell the man to stop what he was doing, but he was too slow.

Charlie leapt like an orange blur over his head from his left shoulder to his right and swiped at the man with her claws.

“What the fuck, dude?” the man shouted stepping away from the hissing ball of fur with claws and teeth bared.

“You were not invited to touch me,” Siku replied, looking down at the man with a dangerous and angry look on his face. “She doesn’t like that, and neither do I.”

“Goddamn freakshow!” the man muttered, stuffing his cock back into his pants and running out of the restroom.

Siku buttoned his pants and washed his hands in the sink. He gave Charlie a head scratch and bumped his nose against hers before returning to his new friends at the bar.

“How’d it go in there?” Rodney asked.

“How did what go?” Siku asked in return. “Taking a piss? I’ve been doing that pretty successfully since I was a little cub.”

“No,” Simon said, “You know, with Ted. Tearoom Ted. He follows anybody who isn’t a regular into the restroom so he can give them a blowjob. That’s the fastest I’ve ever seen him come back out, and he just ran right out the front door. So, either you’re a minuteman, or something else went down in there.”

“Minuteman?” Siku asked, not understanding.

“You know,” Wayne said, “Gone in sixty seconds? One, two, three, yogurt?”

“Preamy creamy?” Maury added.

“I’m not following…” Siku said.

Gary sighed and shook his head.

“They’re trying to ask if Ted blew you in the restroom and you… finished in less than a minute.”

“Oh!” Siku said, getting the meaning of all the euphemisms now. “No, no! I was pissing in the urinal, and he reached over and grabbed my cock without being invited. Charlie didn’t like that, and she took a swipe at him with her claws and hissed. He ran out pretty fast after that.”

The five men burst out laughing.

“Oh, that is priceless!” Gary said, “Ted is never going to live that down! Good job, Charlie!”

Charlie straightened up proudly on Siku’s shoulder and purred, happy to be the center of attention.

“Don’t look now, Siku,” Maury said, “But the Indian guy over in the far corner has been checking you out for the last hour, ever since he walked in.”

“What?” Siku said, looking around, “Where?”

“Shh!” Maury replied, “I said don’t look now! Don’t be super-obvious about it!”

Siku glanced casually around the bar, and in the corner, he spotted the man Maury was talking about. He had fair to medium colored skin, not much darker than Siku’s own, and thick, wavy dark hair, cut close on the sides and back and longer on top. He had a mustache that was carefully combed and sculpted so that it extended past the edges of mouth with a slight curl at the ends. What Siku noticed most was the brilliant green, penetrating eyes that stared back at Siku with intensity.

Siku stared back at the man for a few seconds before dropping his gaze and turning back to his friends.

“Wow,” Rodney said. “I’ve never seen one of them quite that bold with the eye contact in here before.”

“One of them?” Siku asked.

“Silicon Valley type,” Rodney explained. “Chino pants, loafers, polo shirt… Shit, he still has his office security badge clipped to his belt! He probably came right here after getting off work. There’s a large Indian immigrant population in the Bay area, with many living down in San Jose. A lot of them work for the Big Tech companies in Silicon Valley. Their culture doesn’t fully accept gays, and so if they’re living here in the US with family, the queer ones like that guy have to sneak out and come here to the City to hang out in the bars anonymously to get laid or just be a wallflower and observe the gay lifestyle for a night.”

“And you think he’s interested in me?” Siku asked.

“Honey,” Grant said, “Every queer in the place is interested in you. The difference is that he’s the only one here still in the closet.”

“Then I should go over and say hello,” Siku replied.

“You can try, Sugar Bear,” Simon said. “But he’ll probably chicken out at the thought of actual homo-sex with a real-life homosexual. Good luck!”

Siku took his beer and walked over to the corner where the man continued to stare at him. He was a bit taller than average for a human, but still quite a bit shorter than Siku. Maybe five-eleven or six foot tall.

It was when Siku got within a few feet that he detected the man’s scent. It was strong and much different than the others in the bar and it rolled off him in waves.

This was another Lycan, but not a bear.

“Hello,” Siku said as he stepped in front of the man. “I couldn’t help but notice you staring at me across the bar.”

The man grinned.

“True, but I was mostly staring at your cat. I haven’t seen any… gays bringing cats into the bars here before, but you aren’t like the other homosexuals here, are you?”

“And I’m guessing that you aren’t like the other closeted Indian men who come here for a thrill either,” Siku said, “But I can’t say I’ve encountered your particular scent before.”

“I know that you are bear,” the man said, “But you aren’t grizzly or black bear. Your white hair and beard… are you…?”

“Yes,” Siku answered before the question was fully asked. “I’m polar bear. Now, are you going to tell me what you are?”

At that moment Charlie leapt from Siku’s shoulder over to the Indian man’s, rubbing her face against his cheek.

“I think your cat makes that answer quite obvious, don’t you?” he replied. “My name is Shivay, and I am a weretiger.”

****

Siku and Shivay stood talking for almost an hour. As his other new friends had predicted, Shivay lived in San Jose, and worked nearby in Mountain View for one of the Big Tech giants. He was born in India, but his family and his medical doctor parents moved to California when he was just an infant to provide him with better opportunities. Unlike werebears, weretigers were created both male and female. While still living an immeasurably long life, the period of time in which female weretigers remained fertile for reproduction was limited from the age of puberty in their early teens until they were between one hundred and one hundred fifty.

Shivay told Siku that it was standard for male weretigers in their thirties or forties to enter into arranged marriages with female weretigers in their late teens or early twenties, the marriages having been arranged years before by the couple’s parents, often when the male was in his early twenties and the female was just a small child.

Siku explained that there were no female werebears, and that all werebears were born as human males, and that when a kindred human was found, they were given the choice to become a bear.

“So, if you only have males,” Shivay asked, scratching Charlie under her chin, “Why is it so important for you to find a Mate? You have told me that you are looking for either a Cub or a Mate, as if they are two different things. I can understand wanting to find a kindred human that you can turn and raise as a Cub, but what’s the point of finding a Mate if you can’t reproduce with them?”

“Because,” Siku explained, “It’s all well and good to live forever, but it can get awful lonely if you have to do it without someone to love. I have hundreds of werebear friends, and a few new human ones, but at the end of the day, I’m still going home to an empty house and a lonely bed.”

“But,” Shivay countered, “Bears are free from monogamous obligations, and may sleep with whomever they wish!”

“Yes,” Siku agreed, “But that’s not the same thing as having a Mate whom you love exclusively, and who loves you in return. A Mate is someone you’ve agreed to spend the rest of your long, long life with.”

“An interesting concept,” Shivay replied. “For tigers, the importance of finding a mate and producing cubs is the most essential. It is only after the cubs are grown and have mates of their own do the couples find comfort with each other for the remainder of their lives. By then it is more a matter of familiarity and contentment than love.”

“Well then,” Siku said, “How does your family feel about you being gay? Surely, they are disappointed that you won’t be producing any cubs, but wouldn’t they want you to find someone with whom you could be happy?”

“My family does not know that I am gay,” Shivay said. “My parents did not give up lucrative medical practices in Mumbai and move our entire family half-way around the world so that I could be educated and find a profitable career just to have their only son run off with another male! They would surely disown me or perhaps even conduct an honor killing to remove their shame if they were to find out. My bride has already been selected from another wealthy weretiger family within our caste here in California, and my future is already decided.”

“Then what are you doing here on the Castro in a gay bar?” Siku countered, “It seems to me that you are looking for another option to the life that your family has already determined.”

“I…” Shivay began to say, but then he stopped, thinking for a few long seconds, “I don’t know why I come here again and again. Perhaps it is because I enjoy the occasional… what is the word the humans use… hookup. I have reached my sexual prime, and do not wish to wait for my wedding day to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh. The human men here can sometimes satisfy a desire that needs to be fed. That is all.”

“Let me ask you this,” Siku said. “Once you are married, will you stop coming here for sex with the human men, or will your female bride satisfy all of your desires?”

Shivay didn’t answer, glancing at the ground uncomfortably. Siku nodded to himself, the tiger’s silence speaking volumes.

“Since you’re here tonight,” Siku finally said, breaking the silence, “You must have an itch that needs to be scratched. Would you like to come back to my home for the night?”

“No, I’m afraid I’ve already stayed too late as it is,” Shivay said nervously, plucking Charlie from his shoulder and handing her back to Siku. “I still live with my family until I get married, and if I stay out all night, my mother will question and worry.”

“Some other time, then,” Siku replied.

“I’d like that,” Shivay said, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a business card.

He handed the card to the bear, with a shy grin and a slightly trembling hand.

“My cell number is on there. Give me a call sometime if you’d like to… hook up.”

Siku took the card and tucked it into his shirt pocket with a grin. He watched the tiger leave the bar, admiring his firm round ass as he went.

“I think we’ll be seeing that little kitty again, don’t you, Charlie?” Siku asked, scratching the cat on top of her head. She let out a “meow” in response and that seemed to indicate her approval.

Siku was walking back across the bar to where his small group of friends still stood, when the front door opened with a bang, and an impressive specimen of masculinity stomped in.

He strode past Siku as if he didn’t even notice him and walked up to the bar ordering a beer in a loud voice which Logan jumped to fill. He was nearly as tall as Siku himself, with bulging and well-defined muscles that showed that he spent a lot of time in the gym working on his physique. He wore a white tank-top and faded jeans, had a head of dark-brown hair that was cut in a military-style buzzcut, and sported a thick beard that was neatly shaped and trimmed.

Siku crossed the path that the man had walked a few seconds earlier and scented the air. This was another werebear! Finally, he had found one of his kind in this city!

His friends were watching him from their end of the bar, waiting to see how he would react to the arrival of another massive hunk of beefcake. Siku gave them a wink, and he walked over to stand next to the big bear, waiting for his drink.

“Hello brother,” Siku said, extending his hand.

“Brother?” the bear said turning with a little agitation, “Who’s brother do you think I am?”

But the bear couldn’t help but scent the air around the huge man standing next to him and he recognized the werebear scent. His agitation turned into a grin as he grabbed Siku by the forearm in greeting.

“Well, how about that,” the bear said, “That’s a fucking surprise. I thought I already knew all the bears around the city!”

“I just moved here today,” Siku replied, “How many bears are there exactly?”

“In the city?” the bear said, “Maybe forty or fifty. But I don’t know about Oakland or anywhere on the other side of the Bay. My hunting grounds are on this side of the bridges and as far south as Redwood City and Half Moon Bay.”

“Um, your hunting grounds?” Siku asked.

The bear chuckled.

“The territory where my clients work and live,” he said. “Let’s leave it at that for now. I’m Colt, by the way.”

“Siku.”

“So Siku,” Colt said, looking at his shoulder “What’s with the fuckin’ cat?”

“She’s my bodyguard,” Siku replied casually. “I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that you’re a Kodiak, right?”

“Hey, that’s pretty good,” Colt said with a grin. “Most bears don’t know the difference between a Kodiak and a Grizzly at first.”

“I’ve met a Kodiak or two in my day,” Siku replied. “You’re definitely have the… characteristics.”

“You on the other hand,” Colt said. “I can’t say I’ve encountered your breed before.”

“Polar,” Siku replied. “My name actually means ‘Ice’.”

“No fucking way!” Colt exclaimed, “I didn’t think I’d ever get a chance to fuck a polar bear!”

“Um,” Siku said, “What makes you think you’re going to get your chance now?”

“Come on, buddy,” Colt said, throwing his arm around Siku, but carefully staying out of the range of Charlie’s claws, “You’re new in town and you need to bond with one of the local bears, right? Besides, I can tell from your scent that you haven’t gotten laid in almost two weeks, and that…”

Colt paused and scented Siku again.

“…That was a human. You haven’t gotten laid by any real bears since a day or two before that. Come on Ice bud, do you want to have fun tonight, or do you want to go home alone and jerk off?”

“What do you think, Charlie?” Siku asked the cat.

She hopped over to Colt’s shoulder and sniffed at him. The Kodiak bear held still and grinned while he was given the inspection. Finally, Charlie hopped back onto Siku’s shoulder and uttered a single “meow”. It wasn’t as glowing a recommendation as she’d given to Shivay a short time earlier, but it was a passing grade at least.

“Okay,” Siku said, “Sounds like fun. I could use some friendly bonding time.”

“Cool,” Colt replied. “My place or yours? Where do you live anyway?”

“I live in Sea Cliff,” Siku said.

“Goddamn!” Colt exclaimed. “Definitely your place, then. I don’t want to underwhelm you with my one-bedroom apartment. Give me your address and I’ll call the Uber.”

Colt kept his arm around Siku and led him out the door.

Grant and the rest of Siku’s new friends were watching the interaction from their end of the bar, but they couldn’t hear what the hunky pair were talking about.

“Figures that Colt would swoop in and snatch up the fresh meat his first night in town,” Simon said. “I wonder if he told Siku what he does for a living?”

“Siku will probably figure it out when Colt gets finished fucking him and then charges him $300,” Wayne said.

“Maybe,” Grant replied. “Siku seems a little naive and green. It could be their fourth or fifth date before he figures out that Colt’s a hooker. We’ll see how it goes. I would have warned him if he’d come back and talked to us first before following that overpriced gym freak to the bar. I hope he comes back here again soon.”