Dennis
“You ok?” Bjorn asked, casting him a worried glance.
Oops, some of his grump must have leaked out after all. He offered Bjorn a reassuring smile. “Just a little nervous about driving into a strange city.”
Bjorn graced him with an even wider smile. “Absolutely. Onward!”
***
"Hey, come look at this," Dennis called to Bjorn, who was standing a few exhibits away, studying a comparison of weights on fulcrums.
"Hm?" Bjorn trotted over to him. "What's this one?"
"Lets you build a beaver-style dam in actual running water," Dennis explained, not entirely sure why he was so excited by this idea but nevertheless rolling with it. He gestured with the tiny sculpted branch he was holding. "C'mon, help me."
Bjorn examined the exhibit, a low table with a "river" running through its center and "brush" piled up to the sides.
"I wonder how they keep the table from flooding.
" Then, without waiting for an answer, he picked up a leafy branch too.
"Oh, cool, it's not just rigid plastic." He placed the branch on a narrow point of the river, studied its placement for a second, and nodded to himself.
"There." Then he took another sip of his drink, which was a lurid pink color that kind of made Dennis afraid for his brain cells, and put it down on the edge of the table.
Then again, Dennis was on his third Jack and Coke, so his brain cells were probably pickling, too.
Good thing the hotel Bjorn had booked was within walking distance.
They'd checked in, given the bellboy their bags, and left the truck there so they could walk over here.
They could equally stagger their way home when they finally got bored of playing at the museum.
Dennis sipped at said Jack and Coke and watched as Bjorn gleefully built a little dam, forcing the table's river to back up and start spreading sideways.
Just as he was waiting for it to spill onto the floor and make a mess, he realized that the water was disappearing at the edge of the table.
He leaned down to peer at the side and realized there was a hidden gutter system.
Oh, that made sense; if they didn't reclaim the water somehow, they'd constantly be having to refill the table.
He shook his head; for sure the alcohol was having an impact.
"Mission accomplished." Bjorn stood from his crouch – many of the exhibits here were sized for children – and they both winced as his knees popped audibly. "Ouch." He picked up his drink and drained it. "Want to go downstairs and see what food they have?"
Dennis's stomach growled at the thought, and he smirked at himself.
They'd sampled Bjorn's casserole before leaving the house, but Dennis hadn't been the biggest fan of the tater-tot-and-cream-soup monstrosity, and had stopped at one bite.
"Probably a good idea, especially if we don't want to end up shitfaced.
" He tipped his glass at Bjorn. "I'm already feeling no pain. "
Bjorn grinned and threw an arm around Dennis's shoulders.
Oh, that felt…surprisingly good. Bjorn was warm and solid, and while Dennis was by no means a small man or one who needed to be guided around a building, it nevertheless was pleasant to, in this moment, feel small and cared for.
"Elevator's this way," Bjorn told him, leading him to the left.
Five minutes later they wandered into the exhibit hall that was the epicenter of tonight's event.
The bar was set off to the left, against a wall of glass windows that looked out on a verdant courtyard.
At the head of the room, a small stage hosted a band playing jazz standards; to the right was a buffet table.
They'd skipped it when they first arrived because it had been a mob scene, but now, close to ten o'clock, the line was much more tolerable, though the food selection was also depleted.
They got on the end of it, chatting desultorily as they shuffled slowly forward: Dennis's staff at the The Strong Retort, Bjorn's latest commission and when he needed to start it, and what they thought Gran and Fiona were fighting about tonight while they were away.
By the time they reached a plate of crab puffs that marked the start of what was left of the buffet, they were both laughing at the ways they'd thought of for the two women to antagonize each other.
Dennis picked up a plate, then handed one to Bjorn.
They worked their way down the buffet, each ending with a small plate of finger foods, and then went looking for a table to eat off of.
Closer to the bar, they found a standing two-person table and set their plates down. "You want another drink?" Bjorn offered, gesturing over his shoulder to the bar.
Dennis considered that. He was tipsy, which was fun, and he knew his limits well enough to know that he could probably have another drink or two without becoming messy.
On the other hand…he bit his lip. After they left this museum, they were going back to a very nice hotel suite.
One with only one bed, but on purpose this time.
Were they going to…make out? Make love? Maybe even bond?
He shook his head at himself. No, he reminded himself firmly.
There was no rush. They weren't going to bond tonight.
But still, he didn't want to be so drunk that he couldn't enjoy whatever they did do.
And he didn't want to have to worry about whether Bjorn was too toasted to make good choices, either.
"Let's switch to soda," he finally said.
"I don't want to have to carry you back to the hotel," he added with a wink, and well, that wasn't untrue.
Bjorn laughed. "Ok, fair." He took a bite of a potato skin, chewed, and swallowed. "Huh, this is surprisingly good for, you know, a museum."
"I'm sure they have it catered." He ate a piece of chicken off a skewer and hummed. "Oh, but it is good."
"I bet I could make these," Bjorn said, considering the chicken skewer and the potato skins. "A lot of these, actually. Except I don't have a deep fryer, so things like the crab puffs are probably out of the running."
"You could always use the one at the pub," Dennis said without thinking, and then stopped short. Bjorn didn't live anywhere near him; how exactly did he expect him to come over for dinner? Or was his subconscious just…working him into Dennis's life at the pub as if that was a given? "Uh, I mean…"
Bjorn gave him a slightly sad smile. "I know what you mean, it's ok. And if I ever do visit you, I'll take you up on that offer."
He couldn't stand the sadness in that look.
He wanted his Bjorn to always be smiling, and wasn't that an odd desire coming from someone who people said generally looked like he wanted to murder everyone else?
Without thinking too hard about it, Dennis leaned forward and planted a kiss on Bjorn's downturned mouth.
He felt it twitch, and then turn up, before Bjorn returned his kiss with enthusiasm.
His tongue touched Dennis's lip, and Dennis opened for him with a quiet groan.
A throat cleared, startling them apart, and they found a middle-aged woman in a flowered dress with the tightest bun he could imagine, giving them a look.
When she noticed she had their attention, she raised an eyebrow as if to say Really, boys?
and rolled her eyes. Dennis winced, and Bjorn started to stammer out an apology, but she waved a dismissive hand.
"Just keep it PG, fellas. I know there's no kids here, but there's also no bedrooms."
Dennis couldn't help his snort at this straightlaced-looking schoolmarm of a woman making that reference.
"We promise to keep the indecent exposure to a minimum," he assured the woman, who quirked the tiniest of smiles before nodding and striding off, probably to the next discipline problem she needed to see to.
He looked back at Bjorn, who was blushing fiercely and looked like he couldn't decide whether to laugh or hide under the table. "Oops?" Dennis ventured.
At that, Bjorn lost it, bursting out into loud laughter that drew attention to them from a number of nearby tables. "Sor…sorry," he gasped, clearly near to crying. "Oh my god, it's not that funny," he admonished himself under his breath.
He was adorable, and Dennis found himself chuckling along, though with a bit more restraint. "Let's call this the drinks going to your head." He scooted a bit closer to Bjorn and laid a hand on the other man's hip, rubbing in what he hoped was a hilarity-soothing manner.
"Oh my god, yes," Bjorn gasped again. "Definitely the alcohol and not me being an idiot." Only then did he seem to register the hand on his hip. He looked down, looked up, and hiccuped. "Um…hi."
"Hi." Dennis tried to suppress his smile as Bjorn slowly brought his laughter under control, not wanting to set him off again. "So," he said when the laughter had died off, "what do you want to do next?"
Bjorn looked around the room, considering.
Would he want to go look at some more exhibits?
Dance, maybe? Dennis hoped not dancing; it was not his thing, and he'd rather not make a fool of himself in front of his ma- date.
Then Bjorn looked down at his plate. "These munchies were good, but I'm kinda still hungry.
What would you think about going back to the hotel, watching a movie on pay-per-view, and ordering room service? "
"Wow, really living the rockstar lifestyle, huh?" Dennis teased. "Pay-per-view and room service!"
Bjorn grinned widely and patted Dennis's hand where it still rested on him. "You're worth it, mate."
So damn sweet. What the hell was he supposed to do with that? Ignore. Ignoring it sounded good. Instead, he said, "I could go for room service and a movie. Sure."
Bjorn jumped away from the table excitedly. "Great! I bet they can even send us up a bottle of wine or some beers with dinner!"
Dennis followed, stepping back more sedately. "More alcohol? You trying to get drunk tonight?"
"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.