FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Shipshape Shipping

Written by Leo_Todrius

Supported by my Patrons

Fog hung in the air in pockets, still and stagnant, connected by a far finer haze. Frost clung to each individual blade of grass, every twig and every leaf. Everything had been kissed by the winter cold. Any delivery driver's first instinct was that it was tragic and ironic that the busy season came during the most inhospitable months of the year, but on the few occasions when the package wasn't a drop-and-dash, it became clear that it was precisely when the packages brought the most joy. The more Ian thought about it, he was sure his peers in the southern hemisphere were baking to a crisp while he was shivering. The weather had been all over the place in the last week, let alone the last month. There had been rain, snow, sleet, clear freezing days and everything in-between. Despite that, each day a fleet of delivery trucks left Shipshape Shipping to relay packages across the city.

Christmas had come and gone, but most people still had their decorations up and there were still a thousand packages filtering through the system, arriving just a few days too late for the holiday. In a way, it made Ian feel as though the season was still holding on and that the cheer had not yet run out. Ian jogged down the rain slicked sidewalk caked with dead leaves from the previous fall, the cold air blasting against his aquamarine jacket and black jeans. The orange safety vest did nothing to help. The twenty-two-year old's sandy blond hair was blasted back as well and he had to lean into the wind, pushing with everything his spindly legs had to get him back to the truck.

Ian's gloved hand reached out and grabbed the handle mounted outside the door as he flung himself up and in, landing on the passenger seat, letting the door rattle and clatter shut next to him. While the air inside the cab wasn't exactly warm, it was certainly warmer. There was also the faint scent of cinnamon and peppermint in the air from the eclectic varieties of beverages that his partner drank. Ian turned, his blue eyes surveying the truck driver.

While Ian was thin and willowy, Brice was stocky, well built, sturdy. His aquamarine jacket rested over a red and black plaid shirt while his blue jeans were worn well enough to appear almost grey. His dark brown hair was well groomed, but his face was framed by a bushy brown beard that was as shaggy and close to being as unkempt as he could get away with by company policy. The fact that Shipshape had a pirate mascot was not lost on Brice as he often used that to defend not having to groom himself more judiciously. It was the same excuse that let him get away with the gold rings that hung from his ears.

"Was that a husky or a malamute?" Brice asked with a smile. Ian pouted slightly.

"I'm not sure... But I don't think she wanted to be friends." Ian replied. Brice chuckled at that, glancing down at the tablet mounted to the center of the truck's dashboard. The list of deliveries seemed to go on and on. When he looked up, he saw that the number of white flecks hitting the windshield remained the same, but the number that melted away were becoming fewer and fewer. The air ahead of them seemed greyer as the snow got thicker and the visibility fell. Brice looked over at Ian and how he had sort of pulled in on himself for warmth.

"If you want, I can get both sides of the next few drops. You've been working hard out there." Brice offered. Ian looked over, his pride hurting a little.

"That isn't fair to you, it's supposed to be fifty-fifty so someone's always with the truck and someone's always dropping things off." Ian replied. Brice made a bit of a face as he considered for a long moment. It was clear that Ian wasn't coping well with the weather, but he wasn't going to give up either. Brice reached back around his seat into the pouch on the back. He fished around before he pulled out a metal can and tossed it over to Ian.

"Then at least drink something to warm your bones." Brice said. Ian looked down at the can curiously.

"GT Bear Brew? I thought the coffee would warm you more." Ian said. Brice smirked, lifting the peppermint coffee to take a long sip before returning it to the cupholder.

"It helps, but the Bear Brew is more of a long-term fix. It really puts some hair on your chest." Brice said. Ian looked at the can curiously, seeing the big bold bear paw emblazoned copper on the black can, the letters glittering in the dim light. Without another moment of hesitation, Ian popped the top, heard the hiss and tipped it back. His eyes widened a bit as he realized that this drink was quite unlike anything he'd had before. First, it was thicker than most energy drinks but still retained a strange fizziness. Second, it was perhaps the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted, almost like pure honey - though carbonated. After a few sips he lowered the can, looking back at Brice.

"You have to have the world's biggest sweet tooth." Ian commented. Brice chuckled at that, running his hand back and forth across the top of the steering wheel, the hair on his knuckles contrasting his fair skin tone.

"What can I say... But is it helping? Do you feel warmer?" Brice asked. Ian's brow furrowed a little as he considered. For a few moments he hadn't thought about the biting cold air, and sure enough his muscles didn't feel so tight. As he thought about it, he could almost taste the syrupy sweet bear brew as it went down his throat, pooled in his stomach, warmed his tummy and then started spreading outward.

"I guess I have to hand it to you, it seems to be working." Ian said. Brice nodded at that.

"Good. I don't want you turning into a popsicle. We've only got four more stops before we hit Cliffside Park." Brice said. Ian thought about running around steep inclines to drop off packages to the upscale neighborhood hugging windswept cliffs and decided to tip the can back, taking a few more gulps of the unusual beverage. At this point he'd take whatever help he could get.

****

If one were to ask Ian what his favorite time of day was, it might have been four twenty-nine in the morning. It was a quiet time, still and cozy and warm. His least favorite time had to be four thirty. As his alarm clock let go of the perfect moment, the harsh pulsating chirp punctured the delivery man's sleep. He let out a groan as his brow furrowed tight and the skin at the bridge of his nose wrinkled. He reached out to swat the alarm clock before his fingers nimbly manipulated the slider, turning off the alarm. Such a move would have been dangerous for most, but Ian was responsible - even if it pained him to be so.

The covers were tossed back, legs swung out of bed, feet set down on the cold floor and Ian stretched with his arms above his head, although his usual morning breath was stilted as he got a whiff of something a bit tangy, a bit sour. He winced and looked around, lowering his arms. The smell disappeared. Ian was too tired to puzzle over it. He climbed out of bed and padded across his basement level apartment. It often felt like a cave with how little light it got from the outside world, but Ian flipped on the bathroom switch and light spilled out.

Ian yawned, reaching to scratch an itch on his chest, finding a slightly coarse surface. He looked down with sleep bleary eyes to see a faint dusting of brownish blond hair on his chest. It was subtle and faint, most likely it had been growing for some time and he just hadn't noticed it until now. Ian smiled a little at that, thinking about what Brice had said and what a silly thought that was. He looked at the mirror, finding his bed head a little messier than usual but almost nice looking in its shagginess.

The thoughts played out through his head, realizing that in an odd way that his usual practices were self-defeating. If he washed his hair, he'd go outside with it wet and then he'd be cold. If he put up with it being a bit messy, he'd be even more comfortable for the day. The logic seemed profound and new, but Ian wasn't going to question it. He gave himself a resolute nod before he left the bathroom and moved to get his clothes ready. He slid open his underwear drawer only to find it empty.

"Fuck... Did I forget to put it away?" he whispered to himself, heading to the far corner of the apartment. He opened the dryer only to find it empty. His lips formed into a frown before he moved over to the washer and found his errant laundry. With a slight huff he moved everything over to the dryer and turned it on. He heard the familiar clatter and rumble as the wet laundry was flopped around by the dryer's paddles.

Considering his options, Ian peeled his boxers away from his waist and looked inside. Although he was greeted with the faintest whiff of a spicy aroma, the fabric looked clean and clear. It would have to serve another day. Ian let go of his waistband, giving himself a slight snap as he decided to head into his kitchenette. His stomach growled and rumbled with great hunger. It seemed that today was a day for more than just cereal.

****

Vapor billowed out of the exhaust of the truck as it idled outside of the hub. The back had been stuffed full of packages and the tablet mounted to the dashboard had been loaded with the day's schedule, destinations and inventory. Brice leaned back in his chair, still a bit groggy. Sunglasses rested over his tired eyes, enhancing the look of his bushy brown beard. The driver dragged his hand back and forth over the bulge in his grey jeans, teasing the turgid meat inside. He growled and gruffed a little until he heard the scuff of a shoe on the snow kissed cement outside. He pulled his hand away just as the door rattled and Ian swung himself up into the truck, landing on his seat.

"Morning!" Ian said. Brice murmured.

"It's not morning yet... The sun's not even up." Brice muttered. Ian smiled companionably at that, reaching over to pat the driver's shoulder.

"It will be once you have your peppermint coffee and a Bear Brew." Ian said happily. Brice reached up to lift his sunglasses, looking over at his partner. His hair was messy and there was a bit of a shadow down the edge of his cheeks. Brice smiled a bit.

"So, you liked the Bear Brew? You better be careful; they say those things are addictive" he warned. Ian chuckled at that.

"Maybe so, but it helped me get through yesterday and today's supposed to be even colder. You... have more, right?" Ian asked hopefully, "I'll pay you back." he added earnestly. Brice chuckled at that.

"No worries friend... I've got a six pack." he said, reaching back into the pouch. He fished around before offering a can to Ian. Ian reached for it but paused, his jaw dropping.

"Oh my god, did you paint your nails, that's so cool!" Ian said. Brice froze, looking at his hand, realizing his fingernails were all a dark brownish black. While his bushy beard hid it, his cheeks were flushing.

"You like it? I thought I'd try it out..." Brice said. Ian grinned broadly.

"I mean, I love it, but you'll probably get chewed out. The boss man's big on policy." Ian said. Brice's lips curled a bit at that.

"Oh, I think he's going to give us a bit more leeway. I think I was finally able to convince him. We're a progressive company and our customers know that." Brice said. Ian shook his head with a smirk, popping his can open.

"Brice, sometimes I think you're too wild for your own good." Ian said. Brice grinned at that as he turned the headlights on the truck, letting their beams cut into the darkness.

"Maybe I'm too wild for anyone's good." he mused to himself before pulling away from the hub. Ian clutched the can of Bear Brew in both hands and tipped it back, tasting the fizzy gooey liquid inside wake up every taste bud on his tongue. He gulped at it, feeling the heat spread to his nipples, his groin, his ass and his fingers and toes. Something told him it was going to be an amazing day.

****

The day had been speeding by, or at least their inventory had. With the grey clouds, constant mist of rain and dim light making it through the clouds, it was hard to tell what time it was. Ian and Brice had alternated like clockwork, making good time. They'd delivered big packages, small packages and everything in-between. Without even exchanging a word, though, Ian knew the next stop would have to be his even though he'd just gone. It was one of their frequent customers and Brice had been a bit shy about that particular stop.

"Not too much today." Ian said, grabbing a bubble envelope from the rack, scanning it with his phone before he opened the door to the truck and hopped out.

"Not much, but just enough to get us to stop by... Be careful." Brice smirked. Ian chuckled at that and jogged along the sidewalk, between the narrow strips of grass and up to the apartment door. Despite being a low-price product, it requested a signature, so Ian knocked on the door. Almost too soon the door eased open, revealing a young man in his mid-twenties, his fit legs hugged by a tight pair of leggings, a v neck shirt showing off a lot of chest. His left arm was coated with a sleeve of intricate dark tattoos and his black hair was swept forward in a crest, complimenting the gauges in his ear. Despite his sharp style, he was somehow even thinner and more elfin in his appearance than Ian.

"Good morning." Ian smiled. The customer smiled, looking Ian over, spending extra time examining his hands and groin.

"It is now." the customer said, "You're looking quite nice today." he said, his eyes darting back up to Ian's. Ian smiled, feeling unusually flattered although slightly awkward.

"Thank you. Here is your package, sir." Ian offered, raising it up. The customer reached out, resting his hand on the package but not quite taking it yet.

"You don't have to call me sir, but if you'd like me to call you that... I'm always game." he said. Ian's eyes widened even more at that.

"That won't, uh, be necessary." Ian said, offering his phone for a signature. The customer took the package in one hand and used his finger to trace the signature with the other, glancing up at the truck and then back at Ian.

"Looks like Brice is rubbing off on you. It's a good look. I've always liked my men a bit on the gruff side. If you ever get lonely, you know where I live." the customer said before tapping the green box for his signature.

"That I do... Have a good day." Ian said before he turned, jogging back toward the truck. The customer sighed wistfully, leaning against the door, watching the way Ian's ass moved as he jogged back to the truck and hopped inside. Ian leaned back in his seat as the door clattered shut. Brice chuckled as he started to drive. Ian shook his head and reached to the console, grabbing a can of Bear Brew. He tipped it back and took a few gulps before he paused. The can seemed more-full than it had been before. After taking another gulp, he set it down.

"Was that mine... or yours?" Ian asked.

"Technically it was mine. You finished yours and I put the can in the recycling bag. But if you're thirsty, you can have the rest of it." Brice offered. Ian leaned forward just a bit, peering back at the apartment complex.

"I don't think I'm as thirsty as some people are." Ian said. Brice nodded at that.

"True story." he agreed.

****

The week had been flying by. The Bear Brew had given Ian new life during the day, though he'd been crashing harder at night. Luckily, his new regime gave him more time in the morning to take a leisurely pace at getting ready. Then again, he hadn't exactly been making up for it by showering at night either. As long as Brice didn't complain, he didn't think he had to worry. The alarm clock had gone off, but Ian was still in bed. He'd peeled his boxers down and was letting his hand rise and fall along the length of his manhood. His morning wood had been getting more extreme and it seemed like even after he came it didn't want to go away, but at least it helped... a little. Ian worked his meat with his right hand while he raised his left arm to tuck under his head for a pillow.

"Whew..." He murmured, getting a sniff of his underarm odor. It was a bit potent, although something about it only made his cock and nipples that much harder. He turned his head to take a sniff, his eyes opening, seeing the veritable pelt of hair there. He was almost alarmed, seeing how thick and long the hair had gotten. Now wonder it stunk; there was that much more hair to soak up his scent. Then again, there were probably lots of guys that liked that sort of thing - like the thirsty apartment punk or the overly flirtatious frat dude or the beefy mechanic. The idea of any of them under his arm or even around his cock was more than enough to send him over the edge.

Ian moaned and then groaned, his cock sputtering as it erupted with jet after jet of unusually thick semen. The flow splattered across the hair on his stomach before rolling down the slight curve, soaking into his bush. Ian's heart raced, his chest heaved, and his brain sizzled with the afterglow. Ian had learned from the previous week just how long it took him to get ready. A lot of time could be saved if one skipped taking a shower. The young man pulled the waistband of his boxers up extra high on his stomach before letting go, allowing all his cum to soak into the cotton fabric. For now, that seemed like cleanup enough.

****

There was no relief from the cold morning air inside the hub as countless dock doors were opened as packages were loaded onto the delivery fleet. The brick interior with its cement floors and walls covered with aged, vaguely olive-green lockers might as well have been a locker room from high school. The same ancient clocks ticked away the time, counting closer and closer to departure. An aroma of stale, slightly burned coffee wafted through the air as Ian trudged in, making him glad he wouldn't be there long.

The young man made his way to the time clock, typing in his employee number. The screen went dark for a second, showing Ian a glimpse of a reflection he didn't quite recognize. His upper lip, cheeks and chin were dark with the dusting of stubble, but after a moment the screen lit back up, ready for another time punch.

"If I could have your attention please!" a booming voice called out, gathering the attention of the various employees all dressed in aquamarine jackets. All eyes fell on Mister Lahey, the current manager of all day-to-day operations. He was in his early fifties and had, for the most part, aged well, although it seemed that just in the last week that a lot of his brownish black hair had started to go grey and he was sporting a remarkable amount of beard growth for just a week from being clean shaven.

"Is this a late Christmas bonus?" one of the drivers chuckled. Mister Lahey shot him a look, although it seemed to soften unusually fast.

"Well, if the holidays are about family and togetherness, maybe it is Jose..." Lahey mused, looking around at his men, "After a lot of consideration, as well as pouring through the customer surveys... It has been decided that certain policies were out of date and could be relaxed to reflect modern sensibilities. You'll all be getting an email later today, but the Dress and Grooming guidelines have been relaxed for all employees. Regulations on hair length, color and style, of all types of hair, have been removed. So too have regulations on piercings, tattoos, and other modifications." Lahey said. Ian was shocked fully awake by the resounding cheers of the drivers, some of which had been forced to cover up tattoos with spandex arm sleeves for years.

"It's a Christmas miracle!" Jose said.

"Christmas is already gone, dude. It's New Year, New You!" Another said. Jose nodded, finding that analogy good enough. Ian leaned against the wall, contemplating what that meant for everyone, especially Brice.

"Second... And please, PLEASE do not abuse this change..." Lahey murmured, "The regulations on fraternization between employees are being revised. This is on a contingency, trial basis... but if there's so much as a single incident, we'll roll back on that so hard..." Lahey said. There were more mixed cheers from some of the drivers, not as many as the first rule change, but enough to make Ian think.

****

Ian's feet splashed through the slush in the parking lot as he headed for his truck, his mind buzzing with the newest revelations. Brice had been right, but had Brice just found out early, or had it been something he said? Whatever it was, the news was amazing. Ian grabbed onto the handle of the truck with one hand and swung open the door with the other, all but flinging himself inside like a monkey on a tree.

"You're not going to believe-" Ian stopped mid-sentence, seeing a face far less familiar than Brice's sitting in the driver seat. Another driver, Paul, sat in the seat looking faintly alarmed at Ian's energetic entrance so early in the morning. Ian leaned back out of the truck to double check the number, confirming it was his own before looking back at Paul, "Where's Brice?" he asked.

"He called in sick... Said he came down with something real rough. Lahey put me with you since my partner's out too. Winter colds, huh? They can be a real bear." he offered as sympathy. At the mention of bears, Ian realized that there were several reasons he was disappointed. He and Brice had a perfect back and forth, but he had also been right... the thought of going through the day without a Bear Brew made it abundantly clear just how addictive the energy drinks had been. Ian put on a brave face, looking back at Paul.

"These things happen. We just have to push on and try not to fall behind, right?" Ian asked, sinking into his seat before pulling the door shut.

"Damn right." Paul agreed, putting the truck into gear before he pulled away from the dock, heading toward the hub's gate. The truck moved into line with two dozen other trucks, all being released upon the world all at once. Their headlights cut into the dim morning dawn, heralding what little sunlight would rise from the horizon.

****

Minutes had turned to hours, rain had turned to snow and slush had turned to ice. The day had been less eventful with Paul as a driver, though it could have just been that Ian spent the day thinking about Brice. Going without the Bear Brew hadn't been quite as hard as he had expected. He missed the powerful feeling it gave him, and he felt a bit colder, but most of all he'd been worried about Brice. He'd always tried to take such good care of him, and he'd shown no symptoms of anything. Whatever it had been, it had to have hit suddenly and hard.

Ian walked down the sidewalk of the unfamiliar neighborhood, watching the snow fall gently while lit by the old streetlights. It seemed like something out of a movie. The homes looked warm but private with their curtains drawn. Either no one had come or gone from work in the last few hours, or the snow had erased all trade of man and machine in record time. Ian's teeth chattered a bit, but he pressed on, carrying a bag of boneless barbecue chicken wings in one hand and a reusable bag with soda in the other.

In the back of his mind, Ian felt a bit ashamed. He was twenty-two years old but he still only had a learner's permit to drive. That was why Brice always had to do the driving. Some of the teams alternated back and forth, but Ian wasn't the only one in the company that didn't drive. Still, he wanted to support Brice like he had been supported and he hoped that a peace offering would be something - especially since he had to walk the three extra blocks from the bus stop. Knowing that his hands were going to be full, he had memorized Brice's address on the ride over.

Sitting at the end of the cul-de-sac, situated slightly off to the right was another carbon copy of the ranch style homes. They had been built in the sixties or seventies and the large trees now dwarfed the homes. Their branches were caked with snow and dotted with icicles. While most of the homes looked warm and welcoming, Brice's seemed dark, perhaps even plain. Ian felt even worse. What if he was trying to sleep off whatever he had? Maybe he'd just try knocking gently.

Ian kicked the snow off of his shoes as he stepped onto the modest slab of cement that acted as a porch. He lifted the hand still clutching the bag of wings and knocked, but to his surprise the door popped open. The weight of it carried it about half-way, revealing the interior of the home. Ian had startled himself, but the interior seemed even more alarming. The reason why the door had been ajar was clear - Brice had been in no condition to make sure it was sealed properly when he returned. Shoes had been haphazardly kicked off of feet. Brice's plaid shirt hung from the blade of a ceiling fan where it had no doubt been tossed.

"Brice?" Ian called out, feeling his heart sinking by the second, "Brice, I was worried... I brought you some food. Are you... are you okay?" Ian questioned. As if confirming his fears, there was no answer. Ian took a breath, "I'm coming in Brice. I just need to make sure you're alright!" Ian amended. He was still met with no answer.

True to his word, Ian crossed the threshold. He was mindful of the discarded shoes and stepped around the hanging shirt. His offering of food and drink was set on the dining room table. Ian was about to head for the bedroom when he felt a biting chill against his ear. Ian slowly turned toward the dining room. The carpets were all the same beige that had been both utilitarian and in fashion many decades. This carpet, however, had been dusted with snow.

"Oh my god..." Ian whispered as he moved swiftly for the back of the house, discovering that the sliding glass door had been left open. The virgin snow behind the house had been marred with fresh footprints. Knowing how fast all the tire tracks had been erased out front, Ian knew he didn't have much time. Ian pushed out into the cold once more, leaving the house behind as he moved through the yard and toward the tree line.

Ian's breath turned to vapor, the moisture clinging to the peach fuzz mustache and chin hair he'd grown in the last few days. It took only moments for it to freeze and take on a frosted look. The footsteps that Ian had been following were even and regular at first, but the further he went, the deeper and wider they were. The snow seemed to have been broken up by a wild, untamable force. Ian's heart raced; his muscles burned. It wasn't the heat of an energy drink, it was the heat of adrenaline, of fear, of concern and care.

"Brice!!!" Ian shouted out, not caring how many neighbors might have heard... but the sound was hollow. The falling snow seemed to muffle it, to blunt the edges. "BRICE!" Ian shouted once more. He pushed into the trees, ducking under branches, nearly tripping over roots. He stumbled and trudged before he froze in place, looking around frantically, trying to find any sign of Brice's footprints under the trees.

The branches had caught the snow, keeping most of it from reaching the ground, but at last Ian spotted a print... a print that wasn't human. Despite the cold, there had been enough moisture in the ground for it to displace around a massive paw print. There were divots where the claws had gone and big, round marks from the paw pads. It was unmistakable. It was a bear print. Ian shivered more, shaking his head.

"No... No, no, no..." Ian whispered to himself before he raised his head toward the sky, barely able to see the moon between the branches, the snow and the clouds. He summoned every ounce of strength and stamina he had until he unleashed the loudest shout he'd ever mustered; "BRICE!" he bellowed. That time his voice carried, and that time he heard something in response - a grunt. Ian turned, trying to lock in on the sound before he broke into a clumsy sprint. He broke through the branches and twigs before coming out in a clearing on the other side, his feet sinking so deep into snow that he couldn't find the bottom.

Grunts escaped Ian's lips as he pushed on. He wasn't quite sure why at first. Maybe it was the adrenaline, knowing that Brice needed him. Maybe it was the fear that if he didn't try, no one else would. Despite the risk to himself, despite the fear and anxiety, he pushed on. Waist deep in the snow, Ian grabbed onto branches to propel himself, managing to get through the thickest parts until he felt something beneath his toes.

Each step got a bit easier than the last as he gained ground. Ian reached up and grabbed one more branch as he pushed off against the ground beneath the snow. The two techniques worked well, allowing Ian to not only break free from the snow but to surge forward. The momentum was impressive, but one last tree root caught his foot, sending Ian tumbling forward. He yelped, expecting a hard and painful landing. Instead, he hit something warm, soft, and furry.

"Fuck!" A deep voice growled, startling and confusing Ian. Still reeling from his tumble, he raised his head to look into eyes he knew well framed in a face he did not. The eyes belonged to Brice, but the face and the head... they seemed like some sort of fever dream. The shaggy beard that normally dominated his face had grown much longer, wider, bushier and higher. It crept all the way up to the top of his cheeks. His ears were rounded and furry, his hair was insanely thick like fur.

Ian pushed himself off of Brice, though his hands found the surface to be an unusual combination of muscle, fat, flesh and fur. Ian took a few steps back, looking at his friend, or rather the beast he had become. His sheer size had increased in every possible way. He had to be at least seven feet tall, if not taller. His normally dad bod physique had pushed out with a muscle gut and thick pecs with arms and legs as thick as tree trunks. His shoulders were broad and covered with fur, as was his chest, his arms, his legs. The more Ian looked, the more he realized Brice was covered with it.

A slight movement revealed that Brice's paw, rather than his hand, had been covering something else that had grown - his cock. Brice looked as if he had rolled out of some Beauty and the Beast remake or a particularly graphic edition of the X-Men. Most of all, out of all the comparisons Ian could make, Brice looked like a bear. The amount of skin showing had diminished greatly and his proportions had swelled. His hands and toes were tipped with claws, swollen with paw pads and lined with fur. Ian looked at it all, then back at Brice in confusion. As the wind picked up, though, something else struck him - Brice's scent.

Despite the freezing cold, the aroma was unmistakable. It was rich, spicy, musky and potent. It smelled like masculinity, sex, virility and comfort. It smelled a bit like Ian, but much more like Brice. The effect was instantaneous. Ian felt his nipples harden like diamonds and his shaft swell in his pants. The shot of hormones mixed with his already adrenaline saturated system, confusing his thoughts, making everything seem far more acceptable despite the strangeness. Ian looked back at Brice's eyes, the one thing that hadn't changed, even as Brice's nose was blunting and broadening, his mouth starting to push out around teeth that were just too big for his jaw.

"Brice..." Ian whispered. Brice looked up, amazed Ian hadn't run. It almost felt more shameful that he was staying, that he was asking the truth. Brice's huge chest rose and fell as he felt the changes rippling through his system. He grunted as his lower jaw began pushing forward, making room for his enhanced teeth. His body was producing so much heat that the snow melted the second it touched his skin, making the fur around it a bit wetter. Brice tried to focus, looking up at Ian.

"I'm... I'm sorry I cursed... you to this too... And Lahey... and some of the others." Brice moaned, arching his back, his fat cock throbbing. His hand instinctively returned to it, wrapping around the flesh, squeezing it.

"M-me?" Ian asked softly, his mind finally turning in on itself, processing the changes. He'd been putting on a little weight, he'd been getting scruffier, he'd been getting messier. Ian looked down at his hand and tugged off one of his gloves, revealing that he not only had hair growing from the back of his hand and his knuckles, but that his fingernails were darkening as well. He looked back at Brice, his breath catching in his lungs. Brice grunted softly, his face pushing out into a muzzle as the fur grew around his eyes and across his forehead. As Ian watched, his partner was packing on more pounds by the second, his spine growing longer.

"The worst part is... just how good it felt." Brice murmured.

"Changing? It feels good?" Ian asked, blushing, feeling his own cock aching with need. Brice looked back up, a sinister grin crossing his new ursine mouth. He shook his changing bear head.

"Knowing that I was bringing out the bear in you... making you like me." he whispered, "You're such a handsome cub, but you'll be an even sexier bear." Brice growled, starting to jack off his cock again, working it faster and harder, up and down, beating it relentlessly until he let out a growl. A jet of thick, sticky cum launched out, hitting Ian in the face. It clung to his mustache, his chin hair, dribbling down onto his shirt. It smelled spicy and sweet, musky and savory, and completely irresistible.

Before he could stop himself, Ian had already licked the cum from his mustache. He felt that familiar heat spreading through his mouth and down his throat, filling out to his stomach, his nipples, his fingers and his toes. His dark nails began growing longer, the hair on his hands got thicker, and new dusty blond stubble began sprouting from his cheeks, connecting the mustache and sideburns and goatee until it was a full beard.

"I can't wait to see the finished product... I know you'll be even bigger than me." Brice growled, moaning harder, jerking off faster. Ian panted, grunting and moaning, feeling like his skull was aching and thickening and his spine was electric.

"Why... bigger... than... you?" Ian asked, suddenly feeling like he was boiling hot. No wonder Brice had fled into the snow. Brice grinned wider, his clawed fingers riding that foot-long bear cock.

"You're older than me. I'm just eighteen. You're more mature..." Brice said wickedly. Of all the things Brice had said, of all the things Ian had seen, somehow that revelation was the most shocking. Ian had known Brice for months. He'd always been big and bearded; he'd been meaty and hunky. He'd been the driver. The idea that he was a few years older, that he was more mature, was shocking... but now it meant something more. He could feel the changes. He'd been feeling them for the last week, and if that meant he was going to become an even bigger bear, that he and Brice would change and shift together? Somehow that seemed as hot as hell. Doubt and concern and curiosity melted away from Ian's face, leaving him standing in the snow with blond cum soaked stubble and a grin.

"I'll be bigger? More manly?" Ian whispered. Brice nodded but then growled as more bone and muscle and ligament shifted. He had to be at least five hundred pounds, if not more. There was no skin visible from his nose down other than his cock. Even his balls were plump and fat like oranges. His haunches changed, his arms elongated and even his nose turned furry as it broadened out and got dark at the tip.

"Yes sir..." Brice murmured, his voice already deepening in pitch. Ian licked his lips. He hadn't been sure if their customer calling him sir had been a right fit, but the idea of being the big bear on campus did give him a bit of glee. There was no Bear Brew around, but Ian knew one thing - Brice's semen seemed to do just the trick. He pulled off his other glove, unzipped his jacket and moved to kneel down in the snow.

Brice let out a bear grunt as his cock was wrestled away from him, Ian clutching it with both hands. He let his hands rise and fall like a sleeve around the meat before he brought his lips down around the tip. His hot, wet tongue was a welcome relief from the cold winter air and Brice arched his back, a clawed hand moving to rest on Ian's head, encouraging him. Ian began to bob his head up and down, taking in more and more, surprised by how wide his jaw was able to go.

In that moment, in that place, it was a living contradiction. It should have been silent, but between the gentle breeze and the falling snow it was almost as if a forgotten ocean raged in the distance with its rise and fall. It was freezing, but Ian and Brice both felt so hot. Sound should have been muffled, but it carried too easily, allowing what creatures lurked in the wilderness to hear the wet, sloppy, messy, urgent suckling of Ian's mouth around Brice's fat bear cock.

Grunts and moans escaped Brice's muzzle as his humanity melted away. He sprawled out on furry haunches, legs splayed, a paw on Ian's head, coaxing him further and further and further. Brice's concerns and worries were gone, as fleeting as his human body had been. He was a beast, a power-house, a creature, and he was enjoying the creature comforts. He shifted a little, ramming his rod into Ian's mouth and then his throat. That felt particularly good, though it surprised Ian. The blond had apparently lost his gag reflex.

Ian's hands braced against the bear; one was on his furry, thick muscled thigh, the other gently coaxing the large sack holding the biggest balls the blond had ever encountered. He knew he should have been afraid, terrified, or even compelled to flee... but this was Brice. This was his partner, his teammate, his friend... and Ian could feel the bear lurking inside of him. As he slurped and suckled, he could already feel it swimming through inside of him, growing larger, pushing against the seams.

The hair that had grown from Ian's chest was thickening. The pelt of hair beneath his arm was growing longer. He felt the tickle of his mustache growing thicker and he could see the snow landing on the whiskers that had grown out from his cheeks. His fingertips felt oddly numb and puffy but as he moved his hand to adjust his position, he realized why - the flesh had swollen and rounded, taking on callouses as he formed his first paw pads. Ian remained deep on Brice's cock, but his attention turned to his hand. His nails darkened to a rich, earthy brown. They began pushing outward from his fingers, curving and honing to points. The hair on his knuckles and the back of his hand spread, thickening and darkening, coming in so fast and so plentifully that his hand disappeared beneath it.

A deep, resounding growl built from Ian's chest. At first, he didn't even realize he was doing it, but it climbed up his esophagus, sinking into Brice's cock, making the bear claw and kick and growl all his own. It kept climbing, resonating through his skull, making his bones vibrate and his brain throb. He kept on growling and growling until all of that energy exploded into a frantic, needy blow job. He rose up and down on the cock, going faster and faster. Ian's hair got shaggier, his stubble connected his goatee, sideburns and mustache, his face began to swell, and his nose broaden. His back popped, his ribs groaned and stretched, but it wasn't enough. None of it could match the heat and fire building inside Ian. He knew he needed more.

Brice had been quite content to let his friend pleasure his rod. When that hot, wet, tight embrace pulled off, the bear let out a deep grunt of disappointment. When he opened his eyes, he saw the fire and hunger Ian had, not to mention the fur sprouting from his shoulders and neck. Brice grinned, as much as any giant bear could, and braced himself. Ian swung over the bear's lap, took one deep breath and then sunk himself down. There was a moment of shock as his body tried to adjust to his partner's girth, but before long he had stretched just enough to accommodate the new visitor.

Ian wriggled and sunk down on the cock, panting and heaving, sweat soaking into his messier hair. He reached out, resting a clawed hand on Brice's pec before he began to lift himself up and then let himself fall. He rose up and down, higher and lower, faster and harder and deeper with each attempt. Ian gasped for breath as Brice moaned, then they switched places. From a distance it almost seemed as each time Ian took Brice's bearhood into his body that he was injected with more of his essence. His arms thickened, his stomach rounded, his chest widened and so did his shoulders.

Pump after pump, thrust after thrust, Brice coaxed more and more out of Ian. In the places his baby fat wasn't converted into muscle, it remained just fat. The men had been groaning for some time, but soon Ian's clothing began groaning as well. The stitches strained and snapped, fabric split out and his pants became painfully tight. With an uncertain paw, he cut down the inseam of his pants, allowing the denim to snap and release his beefy legs.

Brice roared, throwing his head back, reveling in the pleasure. He could feel Ian growing on him, he could smell his scent getting more potent. He could see the changes taking root. Ian was changing so much faster than he had, but he'd been gorging himself on the Bear Brew. He'd taken a crash course in leaving it all behind. Brice wouldn't have wanted it any other way. He leaned forward and began to lick and nibble and nuzzle Ian's neck, watching the fur grow out from it. At first it was like an extension of his beard, but before long it was just his fur coat. The patches on his shoulders, arms, back, chest and legs all seemed to coalesce before it swept down toward his extremities.

Fingers snapped; toes crackled. The arch of his feet shifted, and his heel reoriented. As his hands and feet grew, they changed as well, leaving Ian with the digits of an entirely other species. The added girth and mass made it easier to slam down onto Brice's cock, and his fatter, meatier cheeks made it easier to clutch the rod once it was inside of him. Ian moaned hard, although his mouth ached, still full of the leftover flavor of just how a bear should taste. His teeth were even feeling hot, almost soft. It was as if candles had gotten just a bit too hot. His teeth reshaped and grew, his jaw began to grow outward to make more room. The puffiness of his lips wasn't enough and soon his entire skull began to feel as if it was bubbling.

Brice's instinct was to close his eyes and enjoy the ride, but he couldn't. He kept staring, watching, unable to tear himself away. He watched Ian's ears grow wider and rounder before fur dusted them. He watched his friend's nose turn black and the nostrils flare. He watched beard become fur, hair become mane, and for all the flesh of his forehead and around his eyes to sink into a sea of his new pelt. With a few more snaps and crinkles, Ian's human skull had finished its transition, and so had Ian.

The two humans were gone, replaced with huge furry bears. One rode the other, the two pressed up tight. They were a metric ton of meat and muscle and fat and flesh. They were awake despite the cold, despite the winter, despite the snow. Ian sped up but Brice tried to hold on. He knew the honey-brown colored bear was his superior, his elder, the more mature of the two. This could very well be the last time he got to fuck the beast. As much as he wanted to make it last and make it count, there was no way to pull back from sex that felt that good.

Moans became grunts, grunts became growls and growls became roars. The two craned their heads toward the skies even as snowflakes landed on their ursine noses. They roared wildly as Brice came, pumping his bear cum deep into Ian's growing belly. Ian came, showering his partner with his load as it got thicker, stickier, hotter and far richer. The two had consummated their change. They had embraced themselves. The vitality of the bear brew flowed through their veins, rewriting and hybridizing with their DNA. It worked on the cellular level, but the two felt the connection far more deeply. They felt it on a spiritual level. It was the crowning jewel of the season and the cornerstone for a very happy new year.

****

The months had been flying by at Shipshape Shipping, but so had the packages. There had been a slight lull after the new year but with tax returns coming in the spring, things were picking up again. The fleet of trucks were being filled with the day's packages as schedules were processed by the computers and uploaded to the tablets. As the company had grown in recent months, so too had the employees. There wasn't a single delivery driver or clerk that weighed less than two hundred pounds. Some carried it with muscle, some fat, some both.

Mister Lahey surveyed the overview of the week's profit and loss with the concentration and look of a somewhat less than reputable version of Santa Claus. His bushy silver beard nearly reached his navel, his icy colored hair pulled back into a puffy ponytail. He moved between the men as they devoured the morning's tribute of breakfast pastries, namely bear claws. Jose brushed some of the crumbs out of his braided beard, his new diamond earrings glinting in the light almost as much as his shaved head. The door rumbled open as two more entered, moving for the timeclock. Lahey looked up with a knowing smirk.

"About time you two joined us..." he smirked, meeting eyes with the man that Ian had grown into. In just three months it was as if Ian had hit a second puberty. He stood easily at six foot two, a bushy honey colored beard billowing downward to compliment the messy mop of hair on his head. With the spring bringing warmer temperatures, he usually opted for the short sleeve version of their uniform which barely contained his belly and showed off the start of the tattoos on his arms.

A looming shadow followed behind Ian as Brice's darker beard nearly made it all the way up his cheeks to his eyes, his arms and hands unusually hairy and his pants barely able to hide his nearly constant bulge. Brice had decided to get gauges for his ears, something that made him easy to identify even on the nights he reverted to his bear form. He was quite popular with all the men, though Ian had certainly claimed his place as one of the most eager, virile and versatile.

"How are we doing?" Paul asked Lahey from where he was adding honey to his coffee. Lahey mused, looking over the numbers again.

"I'd say our company meal-" Lahey was interrupted as Jose sprung up.

"Picnic!" Jose said jubilantly.

"Our company MEAL will have all the trimmings. No picnic baskets. We don't want to give into stereotypes. It's bad for HR." Lahey growled. Jose pouted.

"There, there Boo Boo." Brice whispered, patting Jose on the shoulder.

"And what about our... arrangement?" Ian asked. Lahey surveyed those gathered and considered before speaking.

"Genetech has decided that our particular method of decommissioning their failed Bear Brew was particularly effective, leaving no way to trace it back to them. They will ensure we receive all remaining samples of the GT Bear Brew product to 'eliminate' at our discretion." Lahey said, "If any of you have any ideas for who might make a good employee, let me know." he said, running a hand almost pridefully over his thick, silver beard. The drivers gave a general growl of consensus as they imagined just how fun the training process would be for any new recruits. Brice finished clocking in and moved over to grab the keys, looking up at the roster board.

"Looks like we're all loaded up and ready to go if you are, boss." Brice said. Ian murmured at that, bringing over two pastries.

"Gotta be sure to get our coffees before we hit the open road." Ian grinned, his teeth barely visible behind his mustache, "Speaking of which, do we have our usual customer?" Ian asked. Brice pulled out his phone and synced it to the company app before scrolling down, a grin crossing his face.

"It seems we do." Brice commented. Ian smiled mischievously.

"Maybe we should arrange for him to get one extra delivery." Ian murmured before he moved over to the minifridge and opened it up, reaching in to grab one of the many remaining cans of Bear Brew. While the initial idea of anyone calling him sir might have seemed alien, it was a concept that was quickly growing on him. Ian held onto the can with one hand and placed the other on Brice's thick, wonderful ass as they headed out of the hub and into the morning light.