The next time Titus woke up went a whole hell of a lot better. He was warm, comfortable, and not in pain. Sleep peeled back from him in layers, allowing him to ease into wakefulness. A small, happy noise escaped him as he started to stretch. But then another layer peeled back and he suddenly remembered that the pillow under his hand wasn’t really a pillow at all. And that wasn’t a mattress beneath him, either.

His eyes fluttered open. Yep. That fuzzy red hair was entirely too familiar. Titus groaned, a sound that was two parts embarrassment and one part wishful thinking. 

There was an instant where Titus was deeply concerned he was about to be teased. But the next layer peeled back enough to let him realize Beau was deeply asleep. The other man’s face was slack in repose, a faint snore buzzing in the back of his throat with every slow inhale. Titus could feel his own head rise and fall with every breath Beau drew since it was pillowed atop the other man’s chest. An arm was wrapped around Titus’ back, holding him in place, and a propped up leg kept him from sliding down to be squashed between the Garmr and the back of the couch. Beau’s other arm was thrown wide to dangle in midair, which struck Titus as hilarious for some reason. 

I wouldn’t have pegged Beau to be a cuddler. Titus felt his face flame up at the errant thought, but he in no way regretted it. There wasn’t anything inherently wrong with cuddling. It was more that his own nudity beneath the thin blanket barely holding in place over his groin made him feel awkward about the entire situation. And Beau was completely clothed, though his thin jersey cotton shirt was rucked up almost to his armpits. Titus carefully kept his gaze off the exposed abs, because that blanket was working hard enough already to keep him covered. No sense in testing how securely it was tucked in.

Beau’s perpetual five o’clock shadow had finally won the fight against his ability to shave it off and turned into a short fuzz that blurred the sharp edge of his striking jawline before continuing down to blend seamlessly into the red fluff poking up out of the collar of his shirt. And that was where Titus lost the battle against his curiosity; reaching up slowly, he ran the tips of his fingers carefully against the exposed hair. It was thick and springy, definitely not soft, but not especially coarse either. Titus really wanted to burrow his fingers into it, but knew that would likely wake Beau up. Which would lead to embarrassing questions about why Titus was digging his fingers into the body hair of someone he’d only known for a week or so while they were asleep. Needless to say, that was pretty high on the list of things Titus wanted to avoid at all cost right now. 

A faint whine whistled out with one of the snores, causing Titus to hastily pull his fingers back from playing with Beau’s protobeard. A crease appeared in Beau’s forehead, scrunching his brow up. He looked distressed, as though his dreams had turned unpleasant. Another whine issued forth, slightly louder than the first, and then a whispered word caught Titus’ attention.

Tim? Who’s Tim? Titus wracked his brain for any clue to what was disturbing Beau’s slumber. A friend? A relative? Based on the noises he’d made, Titus reasoned it wasn’t a happy memory. And while he hadn’t purposefully snooped around the little house, Titus hadn’t seen any evidence of someone by that name around Beau’s place. But again, he’d only known Beau for maybe a week. It could literally be anyone.

“It’s okay, Beau. Nothing’s going to hurt you here. You’re safe.” Nothing wrong with soothing the other man, though. There was a burgeoning friendship between them, Titus decided, and offering comfort was something friends did for one another. So he murmured platitudes to the sleeping man he was using as a body pillow at the moment. It seemed to have the intended effect; Beau’s expression smoothed out and he sighed out a heavy breath. 

But then Beau immediately drew in another big breath. “Titus?” Hazel eyes fluttered beneath heavy red lashes. 

“Yeah. I’m here.”

“Mmm. Mornin’.” Titus was extremely glad he’d pulled his hand back, because Beau was definitely awake now.

“I barely said anything!”

“Yeah. I’m a light sleeper.” Titus felt his whole upper body rise in the air as Beau yawned, his chest expanding. It was followed by a full body stretch, and Titus felt his cheeks blaze in a flush as he paid far more attention to the heavy muscles tensing and sliding beneath him than was appropriate for a friend. The involuntary noise Beau made to accompany the stretch definitely didn’t help. “How’re you feelin’ today?” he finally asked, once he was finished accidentally turning Titus into a helpless mess.

“Better. I’m definitely better.” Not in the way you meant, but damn! I’m so bi…

“That’s good. Think you’re up to sittin’ up? Not to be a dick about it, but my leg’s asleep and I’d kinda like to do somethin’ about that.”

“Oh shit! Sorry!” Titus hurried to sit up. Then hurried to grab the blanket that was the only thing keeping his modesty intact, because it seemed to be pinned between Beau’s leg and the back of the sofa and hadn’t moved when Titus did. 

“You sure blush easy,” Beau drawled. And there was the teasing. “Or maybe it’s me bein’ not shy enough. It’s just hard to be embarrassed when you’re a Garmr. Clothes don’t last long when an accidental shift happens. And accidental shifts happen a lot when puberty hits and the hormones go crazy.” He at least rearranged himself enough to let Titus pull the blanket free and wrap it around his waist like a plaid microfleece sarong. 

Titus grabbed onto the change of subject with both hands as he returned to the couch, sitting so he could face Beau. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Beau replied around a groan as he massaged the feeling back into his leg. “You think acne’s a bitch? Try gettin’ so worked up over a C on a math test you sprout a tail in class.” 

Titus wasn’t entirely sure if he should laugh about that until he heard Beau chuckling. “Yeah, that sounds way worse than getting a zit right before prom.”

“Trust me: bein’ a Garmr ain’t all rainbows and puppies. Most folks only think about the good parts, like turnin’ into a wolf or bein’ strong enough to beat up bullies. But there’s definitely drawbacks. Like bein’ able to smell that your crush is fucking the head cheerleader under the bleachers, or havin’ the star running back decide that since he can’t take you on alone, it’s okay to get the whole second string defensive line to jump the monster in the showers. And that doesn’t even cover the shitty pharmaceutical companies houndin’ your mom about gettin’ samples to turn your blood into profit margins.”

Titus just stared at Beau for several seconds. “I’m sorry, what?”

Beau nodded grimly. “How much d’you remember of what I told you yesterday?”

“I think I remember most of it,” Titus allowed. “Your muscles are extra dense, you regenerate, and your saliva has healing properties, right?”

“Huh. You do remember.” Beau looked mildly impressed as he turned his gaze up to Titus. “Okay then. Well, my blood also has ‘desirable qualities’. It can give a virility boost if ingested or absorbed in small quantities. So the drug companies are always on the lookout for willing donors so’s they can manufacture more ‘male enhancement’ pills.”

Titus pulled a slow blink at that revelation. “Well, that’s…uh…”

“It’s shit, is what. And accordin’ to the government, I’m actually disabled.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” Titus repeated, scrunching his face up into disbelief. 

“Yep.” Beau was nodding to emphasize the reply. “Because of how sensitive my nose and hearin’ are, it puts me at enough of an inconvenience that I’m considered disabled. Loud noises hurt like hell and can give me a bad headache. Strong scents can literally knock me on my ass. And that silver allergy? Try walkin’ through a big crowd of people when you can smell and hear ‘em all too much, and break out into hives if more than half of ‘em are wearin’ quality jewelry. Malls are a special kinda hell for a Garmr. Plus, all that stress on our system makes it far more likely that we’ll lose control and shift. We’re considered ‘unsuited’ for most jobs in the public sector and a basic background check will expose us to prospective employers since we have to register with the government here in the US, which leaves mostly gig work for us. Work from home and delivery apps have been a fuckin’ godsend, lemme tell you.”

“Which is why you moonlight with the police,” Titus concluded, earning himself another nod from Beau. “How do you handle your job at the club, then?”

“Like you saw,” Beau explained with a shrug. “I’m outside on the door. They also like that I’m checkin’ folk accidentally on the way in for contraband like weapons, since I can smell the gunpowder in a bullet, for example. And before you ask, yes, I broke that rule for you. I could smell you had your sidearm concealed. But I also knew you were a cop and weren’t gonna just surrender it to some asshole doorman at a bar. And I trusted you to not come in and shoot the place up, on account a how you smelled when Ky introduced you.”

Titus decided to not comment on that last bit; he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what Beau meant by that. But it sounded like a compliment, so he let it go. “It did seem like you were uncomfortable when we went inside,” he hedged instead.

Beau responded with a snort. “That’s puttin’ it mildly. It’s part a why I damn near snapped Domingo in half like a glow stick. If I know I have to be indoors, I go armed with ear plugs an’ menthol rub to try an’ minimize the overstimulation.”

“What about the moon? Is there any truth to the stories that Garmr are tied to the lunar phases?”

“Nah.” Beau waved that question off easily. “I mean, if we don’t shift regularly, then nature’s gonna take over and make it happen. That’s where the stories of feral Garmr goin’ on a rampage come from; some dipshit who was scared of losin’ control didn’t shift enough and actually lost control. But seein’ as there’s not too many of us in the first place, that’s way more uncommon than the media makes it out to be. But there’s no moon component. We don’t have a shift forced on us once a month like the werewolf equivalent of a period.”

“So you’ve pretty much got full control over your shifting? Unless you’re stressed, of course,” Titus hastened to add when Beau started to scowl. 

“Yeah, pretty much. And before you ask, no, I ain't gonna show you. Not even if you make puppy dog eyes at me.” Titus didn’t think he looked that crestfallen. But he’d always had an expressive face, so maybe he did and just didn’t realize it. “I may not be embarrassed to walk around in the buff, but it don’t mean I’m an exhibitionist either. And no one gets to see my bare ass until after the third date.”

Titus decided that the possibility wasn’t completely ruled out after all.