Tiger Winter - 6. Friend

Emmett spent as much time as he could over the following weekend out of the house. Zeke had to work, which was both vastly inconvenient, because it meant that Emmett had to go home at night, but also useful because Zeke had been kind of pissed at him since he’d woken up to find that his boyfriend had come all over his sheets in his sleep. The morning after when he’d arrived home, he had been nervous and jumpy around Jian, full of the completely irrational fear that somehow the boy knew what Emmett had dreamt about.

But Jian had been true to his word, and there had been no more flirtatious behaviour, and Emmett hadn’t caught the young man looking at him in that hungry kissable manner either. By Monday morning, when Emmett didn’t have any lectures to teach or paperwork to deal with, having done it all over the weekend, he found himself wandering into the living room to find Jian tucked up into a corner of the couch, in his hoodie and board shorts, eating cereal.

“Morning.”

“Morning Emmett,” Jian grinned at him, “you want breakfast? I stocked up. Huan-Yu’s gone off to work already.”

“Thanks; I’m OK,” Emmett rubbed the layer of happy fat over his stomach, “I don’t actually eat every day.”

“Yeah, Rain said: like one day in three or something? Skipping dinner is majorly bad news for you then.”

“Yup.” Emmett took a book from the shelf, one of his many reference guides to cold weather camping and survival. His father thought it stupid that he even owned them, but what worked for a polar bear didn’t necessarily make good advice for human students, and Emmett liked to be thorough.

“So why are you making yourself ill over your boyfriend?” Jian asked, his tone neutral, “Huan-Yu told me you’ve been screwing up your meal schedule to stay trim for…” he frowned, trying to remember: obviously the name of Emmett’s boyfriend hadn’t been as important as the information about his diet, “Zeke? It’s not good for you Emmett. Polar bears are supposed to have body fat.”

“And you would know?” Emmett glanced Jian up and down, “you’re so skinny: I could snap you like a chicken.”

“I yet I can wrestle a five-hundred pound tiger and win…” Jian mused. “Anyway, I read it in one of your polar bear books. You’re last name is Garrick, right? Your dad wrote it?”

“My grandfather. Pop is a fisherman, he barely reads books, let alone writes them.” The largest document Emmett’s father had ever read was the Regulations and Guidelines of Canadian Fisheries Report: it had taken him a fortnight to finish. Emmett arched an eyebrow. “You’ve been going through my books?”

“Just generally. I was sort of bored, and you do have an entire sodding library,” Jian smiled warmly at him, “I like reading. Second best thing you can do on a beach.”

“Second best?” Emmett frowned.

“Well, partying comes in third, but since it helps with the best thing to do on a beach, I don’t spend as much time reading as I’d like to.”

Emmett’s imagination provided, unasked, an image of Jian lying shirtless in the sand, his smooth taut tan skin glistening with water droplets in the sun. Emmett swallowed audibly.

“What’s the best thing?” he asked, being deliberately unintuitive.

Jian smirked, eyes flashing with mirth, and Emmett blushed.

“Oh…” the polar bear thought about Jian’s non-answer for a moment. The idea of having sex on the beach, like sex in the snow, was romantic but probably just as uncomfortable. “Doesn’t the sand get everywhere?”

“Yeah,” Jian stood, balancing his empty cereal bowl in three fingers. When he turned, he was suddenly standing very close to Emmett. “But then you get to go take a shower together to wash it all off…” Jian grinned, side stepped him and went to wash up his crockery. By the time he returned, Emmett was just coming down from the dizzying high produced by all his blood rushing to the other end of his body. “I was looking at that book you had about what really happened to The Essex. I read Moby Dick in high school, and I was wondering if I could borrow it?”

“Sure,” Emmett reached out for the blue and teal spine of the historical account. He had put it on the shelf next to Nathaniel’s Nutmeg and A Pirate of Exquisite Mind, and he pulled out the latter as well. It had been a while since he read it and he could do with the distraction. “Don’t fold over the corners of the pages.”

“I won’t,” Jian rummaged in his board shorts and pulled out a brightly coloured Australian bank note, “bookmark!”

“So, what are your plans for the day?”

“Read, maybe finish unpacking: you?”

“I thought I might go out to the park for a bit,” Emmett smiled, “wanna come?”

“Awesome!” Jian’s face lit up with excitement, and the more sensible part of Emmett’s brain wondered what on earth he was doing. Emmett told himself he was just being friendly. “I haven’t seen hardly any of the city yet. Maybe if you show me around… I’ll buy you lunch?”

“Yeah, alright then.”

Ten minutes later, Emmett waited at the front door for his friend, dressed in jeans, a thick and snuggly jumper, and his favourite tan-brown work boots. He had several pairs in various states of disrepair, because whilst a lot of people didn’t think of bird watching and deer tracking as work, Emmett always assured them that when you were wading through drifts four feet deep, it really was.

Jian skidded down the stairs in his board shorts and hoodie, with a loose fit knitted cap pulled over his hair. He was wearing flip flops.

“You do know it’s snowing outside?”

“Yeah, this is kinda why I haven’t left the house: I don’t own any other shoes.”

“You are shitting me?” Emmett blinked at him. Jian had been wearing one of three pairs of board shorts whenever he’d seen the young man, but Emmett hadn’t realised that was actually all he owned. “It’s winter. You’re gonna freeze to death.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on staying that long to begin with.” Jian shuffled his feet, and Emmett realised it was the first time he had seen the other man be nervous.

“How long are you staying?”

“An indeterminate period?” Jian volunteered. “You think I should buy some other shoes?”

“I think you should buy a whole new winter wardrobe,” Emmett replied, “come on, the park can wait, let’s go and get you kitted out.”

Emmett called a cab as they walked down the cleared pavement in the direction of the city centre, and the car met them at the corner. Jian hadn’t complained, but as Emmett followed him into the back seat, his hand brushed against Jian’s calf and he felt the boy shiver. Emmett directed the cab to the smaller of the city malls, and Jian attracted a fair few stares as he dashed from the warm taxi to the heated interior of the mall. Emmett paid the driver and sauntered in after him.

“You alright there?”

“Fuck, its freezing!” Jian grabbed onto him and hugged himself hard to Emmett’s side like a chilled limpet, “and you’re a damn radiator! Great Spirits, Emmett; I never knew polar bears were quite so hot.”

“We’re well insulated,” Emmett stated. Having Jian touching him was doing things to his anatomy he tried not to think about, and it was both a relief and a near painful ache when the young man let go. “First stop, socks and trousers. You cannot wear shorts in a Toronto winter.”

Emmett did not normally like shopping. His habit was to walk into a store, grab the nearest correctly shaped item in his size in any colour that wasn’t pink or white and leave as quickly as possible. The only exception to this was shopping for outdoor gear or camping equipment, which was his version of a straight-women’s pilgrimage for shoes. But being with Jian somehow made the experience wonderful.

It wasn’t that the Chinese man was very fashion conscious, as could be told easily by his lack of functional wardrobe and the fact most of what he owned had either large tropical flowers or rolling waves screen printed onto it in lurid acid colours, but shopping with him was fun. Jian pulled items from the rack at random, held clothes up against himself without a mirror and asked Emmett for his opinion. When they made it into the Old Navy store, Jian had no shame in stripping off his hoodie to try on jumpers and sweaters on the shop floor rather than queue for the changing rooms. He didn’t do it to flirt with Emmett, and the polar bear watched out of the corner of one eye, knowing how easily the situation could be manipulated, but Jian seemed to genuinely care about his opinion. The not-tiger seemed to choose clothes based on their softness rather than colour, got all his knit sweaters at least a whole size too big so the sleeves draped over his knuckles, and preferred his jeans washed out blue and relaxed. Emmett deliberately didn’t look too closely at what kind of underwear he chose.

“All set,” Jian grinned at him, holding up his many shopping bags, “I feel heavy, and kinda poor.”

“One stop left. You need shoes.”

“But I bought trainers!” Jian half jogged to keep up with him. True enough he had bought a pair of Vans skate shoes which he had already changed into, and another pair of brown leather trendy lace ups.

“If you’re gonna hang out with me, you’re gonna need boots,” Emmett made a beeline for his favourite non-extreme outdoor shop, “my treat.”

“Emmett,” Jian left all of his bags on a seat in the mostly empty store and stood next to Emmett as the polar bear began to browse the wall stands for appropriate footwear, “you can’t just buy me boots. I was kidding, I mean, I do have money…”

“That’s not the point. I’ve gotta have someone to enjoy the snow with.”

“Zeke doesn’t like snow? But he lives here.” Jian sounded confused, but he linked his arm with Emmett and hugged him quickly, “don’t worry, I’ll keep you company big guy.” He darted forwards to the shelves, “oh! What about these?”

“Only if you don’t want to be able to feel your toes. You need these.”

“You have a pair?” Jian studied the boot Emmett had handed him carefully. It was a good model, designed for snow hiking with a thick textured rubber base, and made from a combination of dark red suede and moulded waterproof plastic with lacing all the way up past the ankle and enough insulation to keep the cold at bay for hours.

“No, they don’t come in a big enough size for me, but they are very good: I recommend them to my students, and none of them have ended up with frostbite. Here, you’ll need these too.”

“I only have two feet Emmett.”

Emmett grinned, and mussed Jian’s smooth black hair.

“Those are for hiking; these,” he held up the padded waterproof boot which seemed to have made a decision to be part wellington and part puffer jacket, “are for mucking about and building snow-men.”

“Or snow tigers.”

“Yup. You need both,” Emmett took the two boots from Jian and headed for the counter, “I figure you’ve got tiny feet.”

Jian half growled as Emmett paid for the boots, and grumbled softly as they headed out of the mall: he smiled when he looked down into the bag though, and Emmett felt his heart glow a little to have been the one to put the expression on his face.

“I’m so buying you the best lunch ever. Where do you want to go?”

There was a tiny artisan pizzeria not too far from the mall and in the general direction in which the park lay, and Emmett managed to wedge himself into the seat at a corner table while Jian went to order. The young man lent his elbows on the counter, pivoted a foot on the toe of his new skate shoes, and chatted easily to the man who began to toss dough into the air while the wood fired oven crackled and popped happily away behind him.

Emmett had always made friends easily. He was not shy, and because he was hampered by the need to keep his species secret, it made him much more honest and open with everything else. Unlike Logan, he wasn’t gruff or terse, and his next youngest brother was equally hindered by the huge amount of time he spent in the company of no one but fish and their father. Silence was golden, or in the Garrick family universe, it was white; but after a whole day with his father, Emmett was usually chomping at the bit to have a decent two-sided conversation.

But the swiftness with which Jian had become a part of his universe shocked even him. There was plenty they didn’t agree on, because Emmett couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to spend their days getting beaten up by the sea, and Jian had very little concept of what bird watching even was, but somehow none of it mattered it the slightest. Jian ate olives while they waited for their pizzas and told Emmett all about his last day on the beach, waxing lyrical about the power of the surf, the shape of the waves, and the intense blue of the sea against the white foam. His voice was soft and warm, embodying the type of summer breeze Emmett had only experienced a handful of times, as he talked about Hawaii, eating pineapples and mangos straight off the tree, sleeping outside in a cotton hammock and staring at the bright stars against an indigo blue sky that never turned black.

“Sounds amazing.”

“You should try it sometime,” Jian clinked their soda glasses together as the pizza arrived. “Though I suppose you can sleep outside fine in your fur, eh?”

“I can, yes. But I couldn’t go that far. I’d miss The Great Spirits. Don’t you?”

“Never seen ‘em.” When Emmett didn’t reply, Jian glanced up to find he was being stared at in shock. Emmett’s pizza slice was forgotten in his hand. “What?”

“You’ve never seen the Northern Lights?” Emmett was appalled, “never?”

“No? We don’t get them at home and sandy beaches with great surf are not generally known for their proximity to polar ice caps.”

“But… but…” Emmett opened and closed his mouth without making any useful noises for a minute, so he ate his pizza thoughtfully. “We don’t get them as much down here, but back home they shine most nights.”

“Well, I’ll definitely have to come back to yours at Christmas,” Jian grinned cockily, and the gesture made Emmett feel all hot-and-bothered again.

“Your family won’t miss you?”

“We don’t celebrate Christmas, Emmett. I’m a Buddhist.”

“Really?”

“Well, sort of a Buddhist: I think it goes hand in hand with the Tiger Spirits and our myths really well,” Jian smiled at his confused expression, “Buddhist’s mainly believe in live and let live. Yéyé is all about letting us make our own mistakes, but he’ll be there for you once you worked out that you made one.” Jian exhaled strongly, “it’s why I’m being allowed to go ‘gallivanting off’ as my dad said, for so long. They all think I’m a bit nuts and a bit lazy: but I don’t wanna be my father.”

“You don’t get on?” Emmett asked carefully.

“He was a bit pissed that I stopped using his family name when I was twelve, and really angry when I legally changed to ‘Kiang’ when I was fifteen. There’s nothing wrong with him I suppose, but compared to him, Huan-Yu is outgoing and adventurous.”

“Really?” Emmett couldn’t imagine how much more reclusive a person could be, and yet still end up getting married and having a son.

“I expect you would see him as a very typical Asian man. He wears suits and has a pocket protector and a briefcase. He can’t cook, has no idea how to do the laundry, and is completely at a loss to explain how he ended up with a son like me. Mum is the strong, mad one – after all, she grew up with six tiger brothers.”

“You ever get jealous of your cousins?”

“No,” Jian lied. Emmett could tell, but he let the subject drop, and ate the last of his pizza.

They headed home to drop of all of Jian’s new shopping and the young man changed into his new softer snow boots before heading to the park. It had snowed again whilst they’d been eating, and the flakes were still coming down thick and fast: even three paces away, Jian’s outlines were blurred by the drifting whiteness. The not-tiger giggled happily, kicking up the light snow like an excited four year old before turning his face upwards and holding out his tongue to catch the snowflakes as they fell. When he glanced back at Emmett, his cheeks were pink and his eyes were glowing with happiness.

“I always wanted to be a white tiger.”

*

Rye: Mom recused a litter of cute little pups from under the basement of a house near the river.

Emmett: She’s such a softy.

Rye: Sure, because you’re not known to go all gooey in the presence of fluffy puppies either.

Emmett chuckled as he read the text, holding the phone close to his chest to avoid getting snow on the screen. His step-mother was a frontline rescuer, and Emmett had spent several of his formative years surrounded by a number of ever-changing puppies who came in dirty and bedraggled and left clean and fluffy with bright eyes and wagging tails, ready to go to the centre in Bracebridge that found them their forever homes. They’d never had a dog of their own, but it was cheering to have the little dogs stay with them for a day or too, snuggling up under the stairs in their cosy cardboard nests.

It was unfortunate that extra dogs were a problem, but Emmett’s little brother was right; the big polar bear had a huge soft spot for anything with a pink tongue and sticking-up ears. A lot of people in Moosonee, Attawapiskat, and Moose Factory kept their dogs outside, and very few males were neutered, which meant there were a lot of unexpected pregnancies. The litters were often abandoned and left to fend for themselves, because not every dog born needed to be trained up to haul sledges: and good mushing dogs had pedigrees like any other. Accidental puppies were seen as an expensive nuisance.

Emmett hurried through the snow towards the mall. Jian had loved mucking around in the park, but Zeke had texted him for lunch and refused point-blank to leave the warm comfort of the mall. Emmett didn’t mind so much, but he still brushed the snow from his slouchy-knit beanie and sent Rye a smiley face and several kisses as he headed to the food court. His brother would be pleased when he got home, because Emmett hadn’t had a haircut since he’d moved house. Zeke frowned when he pulled off his hat and ruffled his un-styled hair.

“You’ve been out in the snow again?”

“Some of the students and I built an igloo after the seminar.” It had been good fun, and both Felix and Nora had thrown themselves into the task and showed decent capability in both following and dispensing instruction. The igloo hadn’t been big enough for more than two people to get inside at once, but Emmett had been proud of his class.

“Dear lord, why?” Zeke waved a hand dismissively, “never mind. You confuse me sometimes, babe. Meet you back here with dinner?”

Emmett got fried chicken, coleslaw, beans, fries, and a buttered corn-on-the-cob, while Zeke chose Sushi from a different vendor, and Emmett tried not to make a big deal out of the fact that he was putting away nearly four times as much food as his boyfriend.

“When are you off on your trip?”

“Next week,” Emmett smiled, “it’s only four days though. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I’ll still have time to miss you.” Zeke touched their knees together under the table, and smiled at Emmett in a manner that made his heart flutter.

“What do you do for Christmas, babe?”

“I usually go spend a couple of days with my parents: they live just outside of Calgary.” Zeke frowned at him, “it’s a bit early to be wondering about Christmas isn’t it?”

Emmett shrugged.

“It was just on my mind I suppose, ‘cause Jian and I were talking about it. Apparently his family doesn’t celebrate Christmas at all.”

“Huh,” Zeke ate another kappa maki with his wooden chopsticks, “maybe they’re Jewish? Hang on,” Emmett flinched as he realised what he’d just said, “who the hell is Jian?”

“He’s Huan-Yu’s ‘cousin’,” Emmett made little finger quotes in the air as he spoke, but they did nothing to alleviate his guilt, “he’s staying with us.”

“What?” Zeke’s tone was acid, “and when were you going to tell me this?”

“Now?” Emmett frowned, “since when do I have to tell you everything?”

“Another guy moved into your house and you decided not to mention it?” Zeke snapped, the tension rising across his shoulders, making him visibly angry. “Is he cute?”

“What with having a boyfriend; I hadn’t actually noticed!” Emmett growled back, “can we just go back to having a nice lunch now?”

Zeke glared at him, then dropped his gaze and ate a piece of pink pickled ginger. Emmett could smell the anger and jealousy coming off him in thick red and green waves, and he wished he hadn’t said anything. It wasn’t that he’d deliberately not mentioned Jian to his boyfriend. It just hadn’t come up… Emmett knew he was bad at lying, even to himself.

For the rest of Zeke’s lunch break, he was pissed at Emmett, even though he didn’t say so. They wandered through the mall together, Emmett remarked on how luscious and healthy the plants looked, despite the exterior temperature, and he left Zeke at his office door with a rather chaste kiss and a heavy sense of disappointment. He was more than halfway home when a text arrived.

Zeke: I’ll bring dinner over xxx

Emmett had no idea if he was actually forgiven.

Jian was home when Emmett returned, and the young man was lying on his unmade bed with the door open, nose buried in his borrowed book, with his surfboard lying on the mattress next to him. He stroked the smooth waxed surface as he flipped the page, and waved to Emmett without looking up.

“Good morning?”

“We made an igloo.”

“I’m jealous,” Jian blinked and looked at him, “I thought you were going for lunch with your boyfriend?”

“I did.”

“Then why do you smell sad?” Jian’s amber-orange eyes narrowed as he frowned, “you’re all blue.”

“You can smell th-? I thought only shifters…” Emmett left the thought unfinished.

“In all but fur, eh?” Jian shrugged from his prone position on the bed, “my nearest cousin in only a year older than me, we grew up together. I’ve had pretty much the same upbringing as any other tiger – except for the fact that I’m not. And my nose is just as good as yours.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Jian was looking back down at the page, “thanks for lending this to me Emm. It’s great.”

Emmett wondered when Jian had decided to shorten his name. The only other people who called him “Emm” were his family, and that Jian had used the familiar expression made Emmett’s chest feel tight and wonderful. He ignored the feeling as best he could, and shut the door behind him so he could make the bed and straighten up without actually having to answer Jian’s question. Emmett knew he broadcasted his emotions rather broadly, but to have a non-shifter pick up on his disappointment was rather irksome.

Except that Jian wasn’t a non-shifter. He wasn’t a tiger, but the young man was a long way from human. Emmett wondered what it was like for him, and equally for his own sister, to grow up surrounded by genetically gifted relatives but not to share in those gifts. Tilda had never complained, never moaned, or said she was jealous of them. Emmett loved his sister, and she would pat him on the head when he and Rye would arrive from the back garden in the snow, ruffle their ears and talk to them about their play-time. She even did pretty well at understanding bear, and Emmett figured his lawyer sister would have some very interesting conversations with his new accountant housemate. But Jian was jealous, and Emmett could not fathom the insecurities that might arise in a boy who grew up as the only non-shifter male of his entire family.

Huan-Yu arrived home only two minutes ahead of Zeke, and so it was he who answered the door in his plain slate grey business suit while his tea steeped gently. Jian had made everything clean and ready in the kitchen before dropping down onto the sofa with a huge bowl of popcorn. Emmett stole a handful, he’d bought it after all, and grinned as Jian turned the television on for the beginning of the Australian surf championship warm-ups. It hadn’t taken him long to convince his cousin to buy into the premium sports package which allowed him to get surfboarding and gave Emmett a wider range of ice-hockey leagues to pick from too.

“Emmett? It’s for you.”

Emmett looked up over the back of the sofa as Zeke appeared in the doorway. There were snowflakes decorating his carefully styled quiff, and Emmett instantly imagined him out in the pristine whiteness, smiling warmly and holding out his gloved hand for Emmett’s own. It was with a sudden shock that Emmett realised he’d inserted his boyfriend into the trip to the park he’d taken with Jian a few days earlier.

“Hey babe.”

“I bought dinner,” Zeke handed over the bag, “can you sort the food out while I get changed?” Zeke wiped the snow out of his hair. “Bloody white stuff is falling from the sky again.”

Zeke returned in jeans and his neat white shirt, and Emmett wondered if he should clear out a drawer in his room for his boyfriend to keep some clothes.

“Hi,” he smiled at Emmett, who now sat alone on the sofa in front of the neatly lined up take-out dishes, but he was speaking to Jian.

“Hi, you must be Zeke.”

“Yeah, um,” Emmett rushed to fill the awkward void where he should have been inserting himself as the good host. “Jian, this is my boyfriend Zeke: babe, meet Jian. He’s Huan-Yu’s cousin.”

“Nice to meet you,” Zeke’s voice dripped with forced niceness, “Emmett said you were going to stay for a bit?”

“Yup.”

Emmett laughed.

“How long was it Jian? ‘An indeterminate length of time’?”

Huan-Yu passed by the doorway with his green tea and folded copy of the Financial Times.

“You know how it is, Emmett… if you feed a stray cat, it’ll never leave.”

“You do make the best fried chicken,” Jian agreed happily.

“You cook?” Zeke frowned at him.

Emmett bit his lip and blushed slightly. He had very quickly decided that stuck in the centre of a conversation between his boyfriend and his new housemate was not a place he liked to be.

“Umm, not really.”

Zeke didn’t question him further, but scowled at the television as the sunny-haired and super-tanned Australian beach-bum presenter wound down a segment about a particular newcomer to the competition.

“What on earth are you watching?”

“Jian’s choice,” Emmett half-lied, “oh, you got duck pancakes!”

“Of course,” Zeke leant over and kissed him as he snapped his wooden chopsticks apart.

“Where did you go?” Jian gestured to the food whilst he crunched through another handful of popcorn.

Zeke frowned at him.

“I went to the The Golden Dragon on Chestnut Street.”

“Thanks babe,” Emmett tried to bring an end to the conversation by kissing Zeke’s cheek before popping a fluffy prawn cracker in his mouth.

Jian arched an eyebrow and scanned their dinner.

“Not as good as The Lucky Star: they really know how to make a satay sauce. Don’t go to Royal Jade Pavilion: they buy cheap pork and I happen to know their sweet and sour sauce is canned.”

“You’ve been in town for two seconds,” Zeke scowled, “how would you know?”

“You mean other than having spent twenty years eating, buying, and being taught to cook this stuff?” Jian scoffed, “oh, nothing, I suppose.” He collected up his popcorn bowl and shrugged, “I’m gonna go read. Have a nice night.”

Zeke waited until Jian would have been out of ear shot had he been properly human before picking up a thin pancake and selecting some duck.

“Well he’s a self-important jerk. I dunno how you put up with him.” When Emmett didn’t reply immediately, Zeke continued on, with no regard for how Jian would feel if he heard. “We’ll have to go to mine more often; gosh I hope he moves out soon.”

Much later, as Emmett brushed his teeth, half his body very excited by the fact that he had left Zeke getting naked in his bed, and half distracted by much of what his boyfriend had said to his newest friend, he heard voices coming from Huan-Yu’s room. The door was shut, and the not-tiger and the panda were speaking in Chinese, but whatever was being said, it was not happy. The sounded of potential sobbing apparently translated through many languages.

Emmett went back to his room and tried not to think about it, but it was also the quietest he’d ever had sex in his entire adult life since leaving home.