Tiger Winter - 1. Bedroom

Emmett put the last of his boxes onto the lacquered wooden floor of his new bedroom and realised he was going to have to invest in some actual furniture. Packing everything he owned to move across the city had made him realise how little he actually owned, and most of it was sat in the main living room waiting for him to get on and build the bookshelves. Emmett stretched the kink out of his shoulders from carrying the boxes and decided that if need be, he could sleep well enough on the floor in his fur, and screwdriver in hand went to go and make his mark on his new home.

Living on and off with his uni friends had been good fun, but there came a time in a man’s life when the attraction of empty pizza boxes, a lounge that constantly smelt a bit like an old ashtray, and a linoleum floor in the kitchen which was permanently and inexplicably sticky by the back door became somewhat unattractive. On returning from his last expedition, Emmett had decided it was time to go and join the civilised adult world: so he had looked for a house, and the search had led him here.

“Er, hi,” Huan-Yu, his new and only housemate, stood in the kitchen doorway wearing a deep-green leaf-patterned hanfu robe, holding a small teapot which steamed gently, “getting on OK?”

“Yeah, thanks. Is it OK if I put my books in here? I mean some of them.”

“You’re a big reader?” The short, slightly-pudgy Chinese man selected the top volume from an open box as he stepped into the living room, “isn’t it a bit weird to read about your own species?”

Emmett laughed, seeing the title “Understanding the Habitat of Polar Bears” under Huan-Yu’s fingers. He took the book gently and swiped his thumb over the picture on the front.

“My grandfather wrote it. That’s me on the front.”

“You’re kidding?” Huan-Yu glanced back at the snowy scene, a large pure-white polar bear sat in the powder, framed by the blue of the Hudson Bay waters, “that’s slightly insane. Still, it’s nice to live with another shifter.”

“If entirely accidental,” Emmett shrugged. It had been a bit of a shock when he’d first shown up at the house, because the accented voice on the phone hadn’t given him any clues about the person on the other end. Huan-Yu had opened the door and both of them had smiled at exactly the same time, picking up a scent that was like home and family, but entirely different from them at the same time. They had barely talked about themselves in ordinary terms, because everything had been taken over by the natural curiosity which occurred when two shifters first met. Emmett had known from the first moment he would stay.

“So, why did you want a housemate anyway? You work at a bank right?”

“So I can afford to pay for the house?” Huan-Yu shrugged, as though he got asked the question often, “I’m not that high up really, I just process loan requests and so on. It’s a big place, seems silly for it to be empty.”

“Who lived here before?”

“A friend from work: she got transferred in the spring and flew home to China. She’s going to run a whole HSBC branch by herself.”

“Ambitious,” Emmett was impressed, “I doubt I’ll ever fly anywhere, too big for the seats.” Emmett glanced down at his broad six-five frame and shrugged.

“Huh. Have fun with your shelves.” Emmett watched his new housemate pad softly up the stairs, and wondered what it would be like living with a panda.

The idea of living with another shifter was deeply attractive, simply because there was far less need for secrecy than usual. The fact that he’d managed to fall in with another bear was even better, because he wouldn’t have to concern himself with worries one of them might try and eat the other. It never actually happened, as far as Emmett knew, but that didn’t stop friendships between predator and prey shifters being generally uncommon. Having spent the day moving boxes and the occasional bits of furniture, Emmett wanted nothing more than to lie on the cool wooden floor in his fur and luxuriate in the freedom that this was actually possible. But he also figured leaving his and Huan-Yu’s shared space full of boxes would make his new housemate irritated, and that wasn’t exactly how Emmett wanted to start out. He sat on the floor and began to construct additional bookshelves to house his growing collection of texts.

Emmett read everything. He liked slightly trashy romance novels and the edgier sort of young adult fiction that really, at the age of twenty-eight; he should have grown out of. He collected academic texts on everything from natural geography to marine biology and engineering, though his shelves were dominated by his specialist subject of migrations and population movements. He had books on history, specifically the history of science and exploration, books of maps and star charts, beautifully told truthful narrative accounts of adventures into the wild; tropical jungles, raging seas, and the chill of the far north. When he had packed up his old room, he and his former flatmates had been astonished to find that book boxes outweighed all his other possessions three to one. Previously they had all been stored in his room, but as Emmett began to stack narrow bound yellow National Geographic volumes on a shelf, he reflected that it would be nice not to sleep in a veritable library. It would certainly make getting laid a little easier. When all of the books were put in one room, their mass did distort the minds of visitors into thinking that Emmett might be obsessive.

He tapped the TV remote as he crossed the room with an armful of second hand novels about historical adventures featuring great ships and wide seas and grinned as the familiar sounds of cheering and ice hockey filled the room. It was a college game, and the announcer was clearly biased in favour of the home team. Emmett found himself keeping tabs on the score without watching as he began to fill shelves with his books, fold up and stack the empty boxes until the living room looked almost entirely as though it had always had one whole wall covered in books.

Emmett sank onto the large black leather upholstered sofa and looked properly around the rest of the room. The fact Huan-Yu obviously kept a neat house was one of the things that had drawn him to the idea of living with the Chinese man. Emmett knew he had a tendency to allow his own room to become a little messy, but it was never dirty. Apart from his books, the large sofa and another slightly shorter one, and the flat-screen television mounted to the wall, there was very little else. There was a low sleek glass and chrome coffee table, empty apart from a single coaster and a man-high wall scroll with a green boarder on which had been delicately and painstakingly painted a growing piece of bamboo with some Chinese characters that Emmett did not know. As the game finished, Emmett’s stomach growled and he pulled up his t-shirt, his sweater having been discarded hours previously, to look at his six-pack. His muscles were extra-well defined after a whole day of heavy lifting, and Emmett decided it might be an idea to forgo his usual dinner and use his third-day physique to find a place to sleep that had an actual bed.

He heaved himself up off the sofa and wandered into the kitchen. Huan-Yu was back, sipping from another tiny and fragile oriental tea glass, the soft scent of green tea and jasmine filling the little kitchen. Emmett had never liked tea, of any description, but he enjoyed the exotic smell and sniffed greedily.

“I’ll make you some if you like,” Huan-Yu gestured to the still steaming pot before glancing at Emmett’s enormous hands, “though you might need a bigger cup.”

“Thanks, but no: I’m OK.” Emmett glanced around the little kitchen and frowned. Everything was perfectly in its place, clean counters and a four-ring hob over an oven which looked brand new, but Emmett’s brain told him that something was wrong. “Where’s your fridge?”

“Oh!” Huan-Yu looked surprised, “I don’t really have one.” His new housemate opened up a white fronted cupboard below the counter with the kettle to display a small silver fridge, like the kind the freshmen used to keep in their dorm rooms for emergency beer and secret liquor. Emmett frowned as Huan-Yu opened it to reveal a solitary pak-choi and a small bunch of spring onions. “Just this.”

“Great Spirits why?”

“I don’t really eat all that much. I had mushrooms this morning.”

“You’re vegetarian?” Emmett queried.

“Vegan, actually,” Huan-Yu smiled in a small self-depreciating sort of way, “I take it you’re not.”

“No, is that going to be a problem?” Emmett could’ve kicked himself. They had gotten so involved in wanting to know about each other as shifters when they first met, they had failed to discuss even the most basic personal information.

“I’m not a vegan because I like animals especially,” Huan-Yu sipped his tea, “Panda’s don’t eat meat, and I don’t like it anyway: the smell is a bit weird. But I guess you’re a carnivore, you are a polar bear after all,” he shrugged.

Emmett glanced at the space behind his new housemate. The kitchen was small, but not that small, and previous owners had obviously furnished their kitchen with all the usual white goods. Emmett figured he was going to have to spend his day off shopping for more than just a bed.

“I thought I might go out tonight.”

“Sure. I’m quiet; I won’t wake you in the morning.”

“You wanna join me?” Emmett offered. He expected the refusal, so he simply nodded when Huan-Yu shook his head and watched his housemate pad softly away, the hem of his robe swishing just above the level of the floor. The movement made it look like he was floating along.

With his stomach growling audibly, Emmett took a shower in his new bathroom, shaved, and splashed a little Cold Mountain Old spice on his neck a chest. He chose his best bootleg jeans and a rich blue button down silk shirt. It was his nicest one, and Emmett figured he’d better make the most of his delineated muscle structure before he ate a proper meal. His stomach was still growling as he left his new house and headed for the subway. Twenty minutes later he tore his way through a fast-food outlet mega burger, not bothering with the bread on either side, and smiled as his stomach stopped being so vocal. It wasn’t nearly enough food, not really, but it would probably keep him going until he got a decent meal in the morning. He didn’t have enough fat stores left to make it another twenty-four hours.

*

“Emmett!”

“Will!” Emmett embraced his friend and glanced him up and down as Will did the same. They had to lean close to speak above the throbbing of the music. “How are you?”

“Awesome! Where’ve you been? We haven’t seen you all week!”

“I moved house.”

“Please tell me you ditched those cute-but-straight friends of yours?” Will looked as though the answer would affect the central core of his happiness, “they were such hell on the libido.”

“It would have been better if you hadn’t tried to flirt with Justin in front of his girlfriend,” Emmett laughed.

They grabbed their beers and headed over to a quieter corner to talk and watch the dance floor. Will was surprised that Emmett had decided to move in with someone else, even though he could afford his own place on his salary, and horrified that he didn’t actually own a bed.

“Cruising for somewhere to sleep then?” Will cocked an eyebrow at him and knocked his shoulder as he directed his attention to the dance floor. “Don’t worry big boy, if you don’t get lucky you can always come along with me.”

Emmett waved him away and Will went to dance, his gym-sculpted frame gyrating under the lights. He was a good club-friend, and while they had gone for coffee once or twice, Emmett found that they didn’t have enough to talk about when they weren’t drunk or tipsy, and there wasn’t a lot of loud music to fill the silences in their conversation. Emmett figured everyone had those sorts of friends. Will had invited him to the gym a few times, he loved to go and spend hours working on his physique, but Emmett had neither the need nor the patience. If he wanted to lose weight, he need only wait two days for his body to burn his fat stores.

Today that wasn’t necessary, and Emmett opened the collar of his shirt by three buttons, proud of the way he looked and making allowances for the heat in the club. It was almost sauna-like, with a hundred bodies writhing on the dance floor, shirts open or discarded, tucked into belt loops as the pretty boys danced. Emmett wished he could dance. It looked so beautiful, and downright fucking sexy: the right combination of shoulders, abdomen and hips in time with the music, a flash of a smile and bright, hot eyes. But Emmett would rather watch others dance and get to enjoy the view than risk, at best concussing someone, and at worse breaking their foot. He was just too big. His six-five frame towered above everyone else in the club, but he was wide to boot. The last and only time Emmett had ever been dragged onto a dance floor he had bumped into his date so hard three people had ended up on the floor in a tangle of limbs. These days all Emmett would do was stand and hold up the wall or prop up the bar with another beer.

He was heading in that direction when something shiny caught his eye near the edge of the dance floor, and Emmett felt all the blood in his body rush directly into his groin. A very pretty young man at the edge of the dancer floor was smiling at him. He had obviously just finished throwing himself around to the thudding dance track which was ending, and the glistening patina of sweat over his bare chest was not enough to hide a scent full of lustful pink and red tones. Emmett smiled back, and ten seconds later was buying the pretty young man a drink and a bottle of water. He chugged the latter and ran damp fingers through his honey-blond hair before sipping his martini.

“Zeke.”

“Emmett,” he smiled, “I haven’t seen you around before have I?”

“Not unless you were in last Thursday?” Emmett shook his head. He’d been knee deep in packaging supplies at the store trying to convince the teenager behind the till he just needed boxes, and not any bubble wrap or protective laptop sleeves or anything else she was trying to push on him. “I just came back into town. They sent me away to rejuvenate another branch of the company.” The music faded out for a moment and Emmett was a little surprised and very pleased when Zeke took the opportunity to swivel much closer to him and smile conspiratorially. “Do you come here often, Emmett?”

“Umm…” A sudden lack of oxygenated blood to the brain did disastrous things for Emmett’s ability to form words and sentences. He was hyper-aware of his throbbing erection, constricted but lewdly defined by the denim of his jeans, mere inches away from Zeke’s body. He blinked hard as the throbbing music resumed full force and drowned out the thundering of his own pulse. “Yeah, I mean, sometimes.”

Zeke drained his drink, and Emmett found himself gesturing automatically to the barman for another to replace it.

“So, you want to join me out on the floor Emmett?”

“No, I mean, er… I don’t dance. Can’t dance.” He hated that he was nervous. It was a predictable as the seasons: Emmett could talk until a bear came out of hibernation, could and did, give lectures for a solid hour or more; but put a pretty guy in front of him, and he was continually flustered for the right thing to say. Sometimes this would result in him tripping up over the simplest phrases, and other times would lead to a high-speed ramble covering too many topics too quickly. “You’d end up with no toes.”

Zeke glanced him up and down, and then pressed his palm against Emmett’s ridged abdomen. The delighted smile which transformed his features at the textures he found under the silk was enough to light the room.

“You’re a big guy,” Zeke’s voice was layered with complicated ultra-violet overtones, “but I’ll bet I can handle you. It’s too hot to dance, let’s go out on the roof before it snows.”

The rooftop of the club was lit with a dozen strings of fairy lights and only stayed open in the spring and summer. As soon as it got cold, the concrete floor became too dangerous to allow pretty drunk boys to stagger around pretending they were on top of a skyscraper. Although it wouldn’t snow just yet, Emmett figured that by the end of the month, the rooftop would be closed to them and everyone who wanted to smoke would have to do it out on the street. In the chilled night air, Zeke spread his arms and bathed for a moment in the coolness before folding his hands over his torso with a little shiver. Despite his love of the warm and fluffy, Emmett wasn’t really bothered by the cold, and so he draped his jacket around Zeke’s narrower shoulders without a second thought. The young man smiled at him, and they took their drinks to a bench seat overlooking the view of the city.

“I love being up high,” Zeke’s eyes sparkled in the reflected lights, “it all looks so pretty and clean from this distance. Have you always lived in the city?”

“No,” Emmett smiled at him, “My family live in a small town on the Hudson Bay. I like the city centre, but I miss the stars.”

“You live close by?” Zeke touched his arm as he spoke, and the electrical thrill of the contact sent delightful shivers up Emmett’s spine. It was quieter now, easier to hear each other, and having the young man with his shiny smile sitting nearly knee to knee with him had done wonders to calm Emmett’s nerves.

“I just moved actually, out near Beaumont Park. I can walk to the university from there.”

“You’re a student?” Zeke sounded slightly less than enthused.

“No, a lecturer.”

“Smart and handsome, lucky me.” He wiggled his hips, and even sitting, the motion had an effect on Emmett’s libido that made him want to pull Zeke into his lap and ravage him. Instead he settled for taking his hand, rubbing the smooth skin of Zeke’s knuckles with the pad of his thumb: whatever it was the beautiful man did for a living, he didn’t work with his hands.

The time between that first touch and the press of Zeke’s lips against his own flashed by. They had talked for an hour, movies and television, sports and restaurants and music, but Emmett could barely remember a single thing he’d said. Zeke was easy to talk to, smiled a lot, and after Emmett had tasted his lips, wet and gently alcoholic, intoxicating and soft, he allowed himself to be dragged to the edge of the dance floor. He swayed, never moving his feet out of fear, and Zeke danced happily in the space created by his huge frame. After no more than three minutes, the young man was pressed up against him, each with their hands to the other’s hips, and Emmett was having trouble focusing for the strong throbbing of his pulse in his crotch. Zeke grinned in glee, grinding his own erection against his partners, and after half an hour of dancing which became more and more intimate with each beat of the bass, Zeke broke a kiss and whispered against Emmett’s ear.

“Come home with me?”

They took a taxi, even though Zeke only lived about fifteen minutes walk from the club. Emmett didn’t complain, because in the pseudo-privacy and warmth of the back seat, they couldn’t keep their hands off one another. Zeke managed to get Emmett’s shirt all the way open and his eyes lit up at the superb muscle definition this revealed to him.

“You must spend all your time at the gym,” he sounded like a kid staring longingly at a box of chocolates he couldn’t taste until later: the heady scent of rich desire made Emmett grin happily. It felt so good to be wanted.

“I don’t,” he clarified.

Zeke thought he was lying, but he didn’t say anything. They kissed, forcing themselves to be restrained and not upset the driver of their cab until the taxi pulled up outside Zeke’s apartment. As soon as they were back out on the street, Emmett pulled his new companion up against his chest and kissed him hard. He still tasted of gin and the olive from his last martini, and the scent of sweat over his natural perfume made the big man growl under his breath.

“Easy tiger,” Zeke snuck his hand between them and pressed firmly at Emmett’s swollen cock, “I intend to take my time enjoying this.”

Emmett had him out of his shirt in the elevator up to the third floor, and Zeke had his free hand in Emmett’s back pocket as he fished for his keys and opened his front door. His apartment was nice, apparently tidy, decorated in the kind of non-descript style found in home and living magazines the world over. Emmett didn’t really pay any attention. He was too busy being focused on the sight and scent of Zeke.

“You want a drink?”

“Sure.”

Water seemed like the most sensible option, and Emmett drained a pint glass with ice, tricking his stomach into thinking there might still be calories to burn. The beer had helped. He watched Zeke watching him back out of the corner of one eye, the other man’s blue gaze fixed on the column of his swallowing throat. Emmett grinned to himself.

“I can do that some more if you’d like.”

“Ohh…”

Zeke had a king size bed, which suited Emmett just fine as he pushed Zeke gently down onto it. They kissed, divesting each other and themselves of their more awkward items of clothing, and Zeke purred like a happy kitten to discover that Emmett didn’t wear anything under his jeans.

“Dear god…” he ran his fingers over Emmett’s sizable erection, making the big man’s already tense muscles jump excitedly under his skin, “I think I may have died and gone to heaven.”

“Not yet you haven’t,” Emmett grinned. He sank onto his knees on the floor, wrapped his big hands around and under Zeke’s hips and pulled him towards the edge of the mattress. Zeke had a well-proportioned cock, smooth, pink and entirely shaved, and it waved at him in anticipation. Emmett kissed the tip, and then swallowed him down.

Zeke’s reaction to this was exactly as Emmett had expected, the smaller man gasped and moaned, clutched at the back of Emmett’s head, fingers unable to find purchase in his short white blond hair but trying anyway, grabbing at his shoulders and the hands which gripped his hips. Emmett massaged his burning erection with his tongue, keeping all of Zeke inside his mouth while he worked until the beautiful man was practically screaming in pleasure which bordered on agony. When Emmett was about to draw back and release him, Zeke found his voice again.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare stop.”

Emmett chuckled and sucked, and began to pair the motion with kneading at Zeke’s pert little arse. Zeke had just enough of his brain left functioning to grab for the nightstand and push a bottle of lube at Emmett before he went back to clutching desperately at the mattress like a drowning man on a log. Emmett hadn’t even managed to get more than the tip of one slicked up finger inside his lover when Zeke’s body clamped down around him and the man came into his mouth. Emmett swallowed greedily, loving the salty tartness of him, but didn’t release his only fractionally softened cock until he had worked two thick fingers inside his lover’s body. Zeke was moaning again.

“Oh Emmett…” Zeke curled up to kiss him as Emmett came up for air, a huge grin plastered over his face. “Ohhhh!” he exclaimed as Emmett’s fingers touched at his prostrate, “oh babe. How did I get so lucky?”

“I’m the lucky one.” Emmett replied as they kissed again. And he meant it: all the feedback he was getting from Zeke, almost all of it unconscious and unknown to the human, was making him feel like a god. It was a powerful sort of rush for a man who spent much of his time counting individuals in seal and Canada geese populations.

“Emmett…” Zeke wrapped a hand around his partner’s erection, “I don’t know if I have condoms that will fit you.” He sounded deeply saddened by the realisation.

“I do,” Emmett kissed him, “just lie there and look pretty.”

Zeke watched in awe as he rolled the thin latex over his cock and his thighs trembled in anticipation as he spread them, leaning back onto a heap of pillows and decorative cushions. Emmett smoothed a slick layer of lube over the condom before climbing onto the bed.

“You want to watch?”

Zeke nodded mutely, kissing Emmett once before breaking eye contact to stare down at his own slender body, the weight of Emmett balanced above him. Emmett palmed his lover’s swollen erection and Zeke pushed into his touch. Emmett grinned, took Zeke’s thighs, and slid slowly but inexorably into the tight sheath of his body.

“Oh… Emmett!”

Zeke was watching the place where their bodies joined, unable to tear his eyes away from the smooth action of Emmett’s thick cock pushing in and out of his body. Emmett kept his weight on his knees, held Zeke’s thighs apart with his hands, and thrust into his lover repeatedly as Zeke’s body gripped and pulsed around him. The slender man was hot like a volcano, as tight and smooth inside as he was outside, and Emmett revelled in the sensations which crawled up his spine, into his brain and made him feel like a king. When Zeke grabbed the back of his skull and hauled him forwards for a kiss, the angle of their intersected bodies changed and both groaned in unison as the pleasure hiked up another notch. Emmett half wanted to flip the slender young man over and screw him very hard for a rather short amount of time, but Zeke’s kisses were full of fervour and lust, and realistically, Emmett could not bear to stop the rhythmic thrusting of his hips.

Zeke wrapped his hand around his own erection, angling for his second orgasm of the night, and Emmett found his hips moving quicker automatically as he thudded into his partner. He punched the mattress, fingers fisting in the sheets as his muscles tensed. He lost the rhythm, banged into Zeke with force, and growled as every molecule of his being focused entirely on achieving ecstatic pleasure. Zeke cried out, a high pitched whimper that bordered on begging, and they came within moments of each other, tense and hot, sweaty and completely exhausted.

Emmett kept the balance on his elbows, his six-pack jumping as his heart rate began to slow. Below him Zeke was panting, his own taut stomach decorated with his liquid orgasm, and as Emmett was coming down from is high, Zeke kissed him again; warm, wet and open, and Emmett almost purred. He pulled out of his lover and sank gently down next to him. Zeke rolled onto his side and kissed him deeply.

“That was… excellent,” Emmett sighed and stretched, “bathroom?”

“Across the hall,” Zeke half hugged a pillow under his head, “hurry back.”

Emmett stood and staggered, grabbing the door jamb to steady his sudden lack of knees as he made his way to the bathroom. He dumped the condom in the trash, washed himself from the sink and drank three cupped handfuls from the tap before returning to the bed. As soon as he sank onto the mattress Zeke reached for him and they ended up half cuddled together in the middle of the bed. Emmett found another pillow for his head and got comfortable.

“So do I have to get up and sneak out in an hour, or what?”

Zeke frowned.

“I have work tomorrow, but please stay,” Zeke made Emmett’s broad shoulder into a pillow. “You’re much too comfy.”

“Glad to be of service,” Emmett purred as he relaxed.

“Oh you can be of service any time,” Zeke took his hand and kissed his knuckles, “mmm…”

Emmett took a deep breath, felt his body relax, and let go of consciousness. At least he didn’t have to sleep on the floor in his new bedroom.