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    Grumpy Bear
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental. Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Worlds Apart - 5. Bear with a Plan

Gunnar and Siku sat in a pair of Adirondack chairs on the back patio of the lake house sipping beers with a crackling fire going in the firepit. It was mid-October, and Siku had been living and working with the Sturgeon Bay bears for almost two months.

He had to admit, that it had been the best two months that he’d experienced in a long time. Atikokan had its advantages when it came to werebears living together as a community and allowing them to live openly and freely without secrets, but he found that living and working among the humans brought the bears in Sturgeon Bay even closer together, and the time that they were able to spend with each other was even more special. He particularly enjoyed getting out every day and going to work at a job that he truly loved.

“Siku,” Gunnar said. “Has Dom told you that we’re coming up to the state-mandated fishing break?”

“He mentioned it, but didn’t give me the details,” Siku replied, “What is it, and for how long?”

“November first through the thirtieth,” Gunnar said, “It’s the whitefish spawning season, and we are not allowed to do any fishing at all during the month, so the fleet will be grounded and everyone will be taking vacation time. I’m bringing this up with you now because I was wondering if you were still planning to go on your journey, or if you had reconsidered staying here with us. The November break would probably be a good time for you to make your next move, but if you wanted to stay… you’ll always have a home and a job here with us.”

“I really love this place,” Siku replied, “And I love the work. If I thought for a minute that my Mate would come knocking at the door here in Sturgeon Bay, I would sink my roots deep. But I still feel like I need to branch out and explore life outside of the circle of my friends and brothers. Do you know where I could find work on a commercial fishing boat among the humans?”

“Well,” Gunnar said, “There’s not that many other fishing businesses here on the Great Lakes, but if you went coastal on your journey, you have many options.

“You could go to New England. Massachusetts, Rhode Island, New Hampshire… Many communities there have robust commercial fishing businesses. You could even become a lobsterman in Maine!

“You could go down to Florida, the land of perpetual summer, and fish for yellowfin tuna in the warm waters of the Gulf Stream.

“The Gulf Coasts of Alabama and Louisiana are another option. You could live among the Cajuns and join the crew of a shrimp boat!

“The Pacific Northwest is another big area for commercial fishing. There are many boats that run out of Seattle and split their year between cod fishing and crab fishing up in the Bering Sea.

“But…” Gunnar said, pausing in his thoughts, “You’re also looking for a Mate, so you don’t necessarily want to go somewhere sparsely populated. You need to explore someplace with both a thriving fishing industry and a robust gay community so that you can mingle among the other singles…”

Siku chuckled lightly.

“Tell me where that utopia is, where I can fish by day and hunt for my Mate in the evenings at my leisure, and I’ll surely have found my destination.”

Gunnar grinned.

“I know just the place,” hold on.

Gunnar jumped up from the firepit and ran inside, passing Mike who was finally on his way outside after finishing washing the dinner dishes.

“I swear to the gods,” Mike grumbled, “If that bear doesn’t put a dishwasher in that antique kitchen soon, I’m going to stage a walkout and cut him off in bed.”

He looked at Siku sitting alone in front of the fire, and he took his Papa’s empty seat.

“So where was the old bear going in such a hurry?” he asked Siku.

“I don’t know,” Siku replied. “We were just talking about potential places that I could go to look for my mate, and I mentioned finding a utopia where I could work on a fishing boat by day that also has a thriving community of gay singles that I can mingle with on my hunt for a Mate.”

“A town with fishing and a big gay population?” Mike pondered, “Sounds like San Francisco to me.”

“Indeed, Cub!” Gunnar replied exiting the house with a bulging red binder, “Now get your fuzzy ass out of my chair!”

“I was just keeping it warm for you, Papa,” Mike said cheekily, and moved to the armrest as Gunnar sat back down.

“San Francisco!” Gunnar said triumphantly. “There are many reasons that it’s the perfect choice for a polar bear like you.”

“It certainly has the reputation of being a gay mecca,” Siku replied.

“It’s not the same as it used to be,” Gunnar replied. “The cost of living there has gone way up and is forcing a lot of the more eclectic population out, but the gay culture is still alive and well, and the climate is mild year-round. There are still several commercial fishing businesses operating out of the Fisherman’s Wharf area. I’ve made a few business contacts since starting the Fishery business here in Sturgeon Bay, and I think I can pull a few strings…”

“I’m not looking for charity,” Siku said sternly, “I want to make my own way in the world.”

“Siku,” Gunnar said, lowering the binder that he had been flipping through and looking the bear in the eyes, “Ezekiel told me that you would let your pride get in the way of allowing me to help you when it came time for you to strike out on your own. What did he say about that when he told you to start your journey with me?”

Siku pondered the conversation that he had with Ezekiel around his kitchen table while strong coffee brewed a couple months prior.

“Grand-Papa said…” Siku replied with a pause, “He said that you are very intuitive and that you have a tremendous number of resources at your disposal. He said that if you were to offer me help with my journey, I’d be wise to take it.”

“So,” Gunnar said, still looking at the polar bear, “Are you willing to let me help you with this?”

Siku took a swig of his beer and then nodded silently, still feeling a bit embarrassed to be accepting help from another.

“Good,” Gunnar replied. “Then as I was saying, I’ll get on the phone tomorrow and pull a few strings. In this business, you’ll need a good reference if you’re going to get hired on anywhere.”

“There’s another reason why San Fran is your best bet when it comes to California,” Gunnar continued. “No wolf packs.”

“The wolves are our allies, Papa,” Mike said. “How is having no wolves around a good thing?”

“Northern California is basically divided into two pack territories,” Gunnar explained. “The Coffee Creek Pack controlling the Six River and Shasta-Trinity National Forests, and the Ukiah Pack controlling the Mendocino National Forest.

“Southern California is also split between two packs. The Big Sur Pack controlling Monterey to Santa Barbara, and the massive and powerful Los Angeles Pack controlling Ventura to San Diego.

“If any werebears were living within those pack territories, the Alphas would know about it. They would have to be there with the Alpha’s permission and protection, and therefore the Council would know about it. I am not aware of any bears or lycans of any other type living within those pack territories.

“The entire San Francisco Bay area between Santa Cruz to the south and Bodega Bay to the north was declared a wolf-pack neutral zone a century ago by decree of the Lycan Council as the result of a territorial dispute. If there are any bears in California, that’s where they’re going to be!”

“And the larger gay population would increase the odds of a kindred human who would be agreeable to becoming a bear’s Cub as well,” Mike added. “Good thinking, Papa!”

Gunnar nodded modestly.

“Now we just need to find you someplace to live,” Gunnar said. “As I mentioned, the cost of living in San Francisco has skyrocketed in the last few decades, but lucky for you, my departed Mate Nils had a hobby of collecting real estate.”

Gunnar flipped through the red binder listing all his available homes and properties in the Pacific time zone.

“Bingo!” Gunnar said, pointing his finger at a page in the binder. “So, back in 1914, a famous landscape architect by the name of Mark Daniels created a master plan for the entire neighborhood of Sea Cliff in San Francisco. Nils, jumped at the opportunity, and purchased one of the first lots that came up for sale. The house has gone through several renovations over the last hundred years, and it’s currently being used as a high-end vacation rental. Whenever a celebrity is shooting a movie or a TV series in San Francisco and needs a place to live, they rent my house for however long they’re in town. Nils and I stayed there several times over the years, one of the few places he owned that we actually returned to multiple times.

“Oh Siku, wait till you see it! It has stairs in the backyard that go down the side of the cliff directly to the water, with your own little beach cove at low tide. It has an amazing view of the Pacific Ocean and the Golden Gate Bridge, and it’s walking distance to Lincoln Park and Baker Beach…

“Baker Nude Beach.” Gunnar added, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Is this Sea Cliff neighborhood where the local gay community is centered?” Siku asked.

“No,” Gunnar replied with a chuckle, “Sea Cliff is where the local snobby rich community is centered, but the gay district isn’t that far away. It’s mostly in the Haight-Ashbury, Castro, and Mission District neighborhoods.”

“Basically,” Mike observed, “If you go into any gay bar in the Castro and offer to take a guy back to your place in Sea Cliff, you’ll have all the queers fighting to the death over you.”

“They’ll be fighting over him even without the Sea Cliff address,” Gunnar said. “Which brings me to a serious point. You’ve spent most of the last century surrounded by other werebears. Compared to your average human, werebears and other lycans are considered incredibly attractive. Don’t let anybody talk you into doing any ‘modeling’ while you’re living there. That’s a slippery slope scheme to get you into stripping, porn, escorting, and prostitution. Stay out of that scene altogether.”

“I still think it would be fun to be a stripper,” Mike mumbled, but Gunnar flashed him a look that shut him up immediately.

“Okay,” Siku said, “So, I’m going to be living in San Francisco in a wealthy neighborhood, in a fancy ocean-front house, which, added to my lycan good-looks, is going to make me pretty popular in the gay community.”

“Sounds right so far,” Gunnar replied.

“Is my profession as a commercial fisherman going to make me even more popular?”

“Well…” Gunnar said, choosing his words carefully. “Let’s put it this way. Your looks and flashy address are going to let you bring in a major haul of men when you pull in your net. Your job as a fisherman is going to allow you to more easily separate the ones that you’d want to keep from the immature ones that you’ll want to toss back into the water.”

Siku smiled. He understood the gist of the analogy.

“That sounds ideal. I’m sure to find the perfect Mate under those circumstances. I owe you a great debt, Gunnar, for everything you’ve already done and everything you still plan to do.”

“Brother,” Gunnar replied, “Nils left me with enough to last a hundred lifetimes. If I can’t use some of that to help my fellow werebears, then I deserve none of it.”


It was Halloween night, but the bears who were gathered for the party at Gunnar & Mike’s were in a bittersweet mood. Their friend and co-worker of the last two months would be leaving the following morning.

“Aye, laddie,” Dom said, holding a beer in one hand and clapping Siku on the back with his other, “The boat won’t be the same without ye.”

“Come on, Captain,” Siku replied, “I was only there for two months, I’m sure the crew will get the hang of being one-man short again in no time. I was never the fastest on the dip-nets or the winch anyway.”

“It’s not your fishing I’ll miss,” Dom exclaimed, “It’s that mighty cock of yours at lunchtime!”

The bears erupted in laughter and the crewmates from Dom’s boat all shouted in agreement.

“In all seriousness,” Barry said, throwing his arm around Siku’s waist. “We’ve all gotten very attached to you the last couple of months. It’s different here in Sturgeon Bay where we’re a smaller group. Our friendships and bonding really become much, much closer. I hope that when you find your Mate that you can convince him to join us here again. You haven’t even left yet and I’m already feeling the loss like a pain in my heart.”

“I have to say,” Siku said, “That you have all made me feel very welcome here. Atikokan has been my home for a long time now but leaving and experiencing the world through fresh eyes has made me feel more alive than I can remember in the last hundred years.”

“Only time will tell where Siku may decide to settle for good,” Gunnar said, walking up with handfuls of fresh beers to hand out to the crowd of bears, “When I left DC, it had been my home for over a hundred years. I stayed with Thomas for a few months during my identity change, and then hit the road. If I hadn’t met the Cub, I probably never would have given Sturgeon Bay a sideways glance on a map, but we decided to stay; it has become our home and we love it here. I don’t know what sort of adventure Odin has planned for Siku, but when he finds his mate at the end of that voyage, together they will both instinctively know where the best place for them is to call home.”

“And I suppose it wouldn’t be so bad having friendly bear brothers living in California, either!” Barry added. “More reason to take a real vacation and do some travelling when we get our forced break in November every year!”

“Burgers are done!” Mike yelled from the grill, and the mob of bears around Siku drifted across the patio with the promise of food.

The table was already loaded with a plentiful assortment of food. Potato and pasta salads, chips, dips and salsas, baked beans, and of course, fried fish with homemade tartar sauce. There was even a large platter of freshwater sashimi with soy dipping sauce carefully prepared by Barry himself. Not a commonplace pot-luck dish for humans, but werebears were immune to any freshwater fish parasites, and were very accustomed to eating their catch raw.

Mike pushed the platter of hamburgers into the middle of the food table.

“Tell me what you all think,” he said, “This is an experimental burger mix. I’ve added a secret ingredient that Papa wasn’t sure would go over well in a burger, and if it passes the taste test here, we’ll add it to the menu at the diner!”

After hearing that disclaimer, the bears were a little reluctant to be the first one to grab a burger for themselves.

“Siku is the adventurous one!” one of the bears shouted. “Let him try it first!”

Someone thrust a paper plate into Siku’s hand with a tasty-looking burger on it. He gave it a thorough visual analysis first.

“Hmm,” Siku said, “Brioche bun… okay. Romaine lettuce, beefsteak tomato, Vidalia onion… check. Aged sharp cheddar… good, good. Papa Bear’s special burger sauce…”

“Go on and take a bite already!” Barry fussed. “The anticipation is killing me!”

Siku took a bite as the gathered bears watched him closely, Mike most of all, as his reputation as a restauranteur was on the line. He closed his eyes and chewed.

“Hmm,” Siku said around a mouth still half full of burger, “Seductive and potent. Rich and mature.”

He swallowed the first bite and took a second, rolling the flavors around in his mouth.

“Sultry, meaty and savory,” Siku added. “To me, it brings to mind images of a hot summer afternoon, when you’ve been in bed with a man for hours, making love all day, and you lick the musky droplets of sweat from his abdomen before going down on him again.”

Siku opened his eyes.

“In one word, delicious!”

Siku felt himself being jostled to the left and right as the bears all pushed their way to the food table to grab a burger for themselves.

“No need to shove!” Mike said proudly, “I have more on the grill now. There’s plenty for everyone!”

“All right laddie,” Dom said around a mouthful of burger, “Now that you have the approval of the bears, the most discriminating palates on Earth, are you going to share the secret ingredient, or are you going to make us pull our fishing boats into the Marina at noon every day to get more of this magic concoction!”

“We can’t have that!” Mike said, grinning, “A lunchtime bear orgy in the Marina every afternoon starring actual bears would be bad for business! The secret is the addition of black miso paste. Just a touch, not enough to overwhelm the natural burger flavors, but just the right amount to give it that seductive and potent quality that Siku so eloquently described.”

“All right, Cub,” Gunnar said, his own mouth half-full of burger. “You win. We’ll put this miracle on a bun on the Diner’s menu as tomorrow’s lunch special.”

“Call it the Viking Burger,” Siku said with a grin, giving Mike a sideways glance, and the bears erupted with laughter again.

When most of the food had been eaten, and the bears were all pleasantly full, Gunnar added a few more logs to the firepit, creating a wonderfully warm center to the party, and then turned the artificial lighting down low.

The party guests took the cue, and clothing began to come off as the bears gathered in groups of two, three and four.

The group in Siku’s orbit, closest to the fire, remained the same size throughout the evening as each bear in attendance took time to have their own special and tender moment with the departing brother, and then they moved on to other groups to allow everyone a chance to say their goodbyes.

By late in the evening, most had shifted into their bear forms and were sleeping comfortably in furry piles here and there around the patio. Siku was just considering shifting to his own bear form and joining a pile for some well-deserved sleep, when one more nude bear approached him in the flickering firelight.

“Barry,” Siku said. “I thought the night was going to pass before you and I had a chance to say our farewell.”

“I’ve gotten the Cub worn out and sleeping comfortably in a bear pile,” Barry whispered, “So that I could have you to myself for the rest of the night.”

Siku chuckled.

“Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but If I stick my cock in one more ass tonight, I’m afraid it’s going to break off!”

“Fear not!” Barry whispered, rolling Siku onto his back and lifting his legs onto his chest. “I’ve come prepared with hard cock of my own!”

Barry pressed his stiff member into Siku’s tail hole, causing the big bear to moan and pant in desire.

“Oh gods, yes,” Siku said, “That’s what I’ve been waiting for!”

Barry pulled the big bear’s head upward to his own as he thrust into him vigorously, and planted a deep, sensual kiss on his lips. Siku opened his mouth slightly, and it was invaded by Barry’s tongue. The polar bear relished the feeling of being probed by this grizzly from both ends at once and moaned loudly, grinding his ass against Barry’s pelvis with each thrust.

Barry pumped himself into Siku for a long time, accompanied only by sounds of the big bear’s moans and the subtle snoring coming from the furry piles all around them on the patio.

“Barry,” Siku panted finally, “I’m going to come. Keep going, I’m almost there.”

Barry increased his pace as the sweat dripped from his forehead onto Siku’s chest fur and felt his own orgasm approaching.

Siku clenched his teeth and emitted a muffled roar as his final load of the night erupted onto his belly, coating himself and the grizzly still pumping with a frenzy into his ass. Barry looked down at Siku’s face, gazing into his eyes, as he too reached his climax with a muffled grunt, thrusting himself deeply into the big bear and clutching his shoulders as if he’d never let go.

Barry leaned forward and gave Siku one final kiss before they both shifted into their bear forms, cuddling against one another next to the firepit and drifting off to a peaceful sleep.

Copyright © 2021 Grumpy Bear; All Rights Reserved.
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Grumpy Bear's Werebear Tales

Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental. Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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Can't wait for the new adventure that Siku is going to enjoy.  There may be as many ups and downs as the hills of San Francisco, but I am sure that he will manage.  I do wonder if Siku's lack of knowledge of the current gay knowledge and rituals 101 will make the hunt more confusing or just more fun...  

Can't wait for the next update; maybe start two a day postings?


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What a great farewell party.  Good food, good friends and good sex.  Excellent writing, and far beyond just good.

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