Tiger Winter - 14. Talk

“Jian?” Emmett put his head around the open doorway to the lounge, looking for the little tiger. “Huh…” There was no one there. Kateri had gone out to the store, and Logan and his father, feeling land-sick from so many straight days away from their boats, had gone out to fish. They would probably bring another shipment back for the train which was up and running again after Christmas. Emmett had expected to find his friend curled up on the couch, tucked into his striped hoodie with his cute little nose in a book. Emmett shook himself when he realised he had described Jian’s nose as ‘cute’, then closed his eyes and followed his own acute sense of smell through the house.

That morning they had woken together, full of sleepy smiles and happy animal noises, and Jian had pressed wind chapped lips against Emmett’s invisibly stubbled cheek before pouring himself out of bed, and going to take a shower. Emmett hadn’t been able to do more than watch him walk away, realising he had dreamt about the tiger-coloured boxer shorts too. As soon as they got back to Toronto, Emmett swore he would find a shop that carried some: and after that, he just felt a bit stalker-ish. He had no rights to be buying, fantasising, or fantasising about buying, underwear for his friend. No one had asked any questions of them though, and for that Emmett was deeply thankful.

The exotic scent of Jian was like a stained glass river over the usual mixed scents of the Garrick family: Emmett padded along, following the swirl of orange and gold and a delicate floral note that reminded him of jasmine, and what he imagined honeysuckle tasted like. Two feet from Rye’s bedroom door though, the note turned sour, and became blue, and full of sadness. Emmett paused, inches from the door, and almost stopped breathing as he listened.

“It’s supposed to be amazing when you finally find your mate,” Jian sighed, accompanied by the sounds of the boy flopping onto Rye’s mattress, “that’s what everyone says.”

“Huh?” Rye’s voice, confused, probably turning away from his computer, “who’s your mate?”

“You can’t tell?”

There was a rather pregnant pause.

“Emm’s your mate?” Rye sounded bewildered, “I thought you guys were just friends. That’s what you keep on telling everyone isn’t it?”

Jian sighed heavily.

“I know, I know. But he is: like there’s any other reason I would hang around Toronto being celibate for three months! It’s so fucking frustrating.”

“Does he know?” Rye seemed genuinely concerned.

“You know, I’m not sure. But I know I love him.” Jian sighed, and then said something in Chinese: Emmett would put money on it being unprintable. “Rye, can I tell you something?”

“Sure.”

“I miss the beach. I miss the sun and the surf, and getting to laze around in nothing but board shorts. I hate being cold: I’m petrified I’m going to fall through the ice or get lost out there in the pristine white vastness. I miss the summer.” He took a deep breath, “but if I had to give it all up just to follow your brother around – I would.”

“Jian…” Rye’s voice was full of wonder, “you have to tell him.”

Outside, Emmett took a sharp step back from the doorway, and then he turned and ran. As soon as the door opened, or in fact, whenever Jian or Rye decided to next properly use their noses, they would know he had been outside, and he had heard. Emmett hated that he had eavesdropped on their conversation, but equally he hated that there had been such a conversation to listen in on. Surely Jian was not supposed to tell Emmett’s little brother he loved him before he told Emmett himself: Emmett wanted to be the first to know something so important. He kicked the snow in the back garden away from himself, throwing up clumpy flurries of damp flakes, and cursed vehemently at the frozen ground.

He had known. Jian might never have said it in such an obvious and undeniable way, but Emmett could not convince himself he hadn’t known the little not-tiger loved him. But the force of that love was terrifying. Jian had declared they were mates, when humans didn’t even have such things, and Emmett wondered how on earth he could have known before the polar bear did. Emmett tested the theory, thought about making love to Zeke, and just as he was feeling sick enough to throw up, the warm scent of Jian arrived behind him.

“There you are, I was wondering where you’d got to,” Jian paused, then looked at the knapsack sitting at Emmett’s side, “what’s that?”

“Um…” Emmett took a deep breath and nudged the gear with the tow of one boot, “something fun? I wondered if you wanted to come out with me: if you’re not busy?”

“And why would I be busy when I could be with you?” Jian’s smile was bright and warm, and there was not a hint of the sadness that had coloured his earlier conversation.

“Dress warm: thick socks,” Emmett commanded before scooping up the bag, “I’ll meet you out front.”

Ten miles or so on the other side of Moose River, Emmett parked up the truck on a bit of non-descript ice and rock on the edge of the migratory bird sanctuary. Hunting of any sort wasn’t allowed near the sanctuary, so people tended to head north on the other side of Moosonee, go further east until they were well out of the way of the protected territory. It meant the ice on that side of James Bay was even less populated than it might otherwise be, and perfect for a bit of day time running.

“So, what’s in the bag?” Jian asked again as Emmett heaved the knapsack from the back seat of the truck. He whipped open the zipper and handed Jian a pair of sturdy ski boots. “What?”

“Kite-skiing,” Emmett grinned widely, and removed from the bag a pair of short skis, boot covers, and the pieces that would fold up into the kite. When Jian continued to frown at him, Emmett cocked his head to one side. “Problems?”

“I can’t ski! Xue, I’d almost never even seen snow until a few months ago.”

“You’ll pick it up. You’ve done that kite-boarding thing on water right?”

“Well, yeah…”

“Same thing: it’s just the ocean is frozen this time. Get your boots on!”

Emmett had borrowed his sister’s ski boots, which with Jian’s thick socks turned out to be a good fit, and under the boots covers, which stopped the latches from freezing shut, no-one could tell they were silver and pink, even if there had been anyone around to see: and Jian snapped the skis onto his feet like he’d been doing it all his life. Emmett’s earlier hunch that Jian was naturally gifted at all outdoor activities was paying off. Emmett built the kite, plugging together the lightweight sections of the frame and securing the rip-stop fabric before unwinding the strings. It was a good kite, and with a nice strong wind, it was fully capable of pulling a full grown man off his feet: Jian on skis would prove to be no problem at all.

“This is the most insane thing… what if I fall through a seal hole into the ice?”

“I’ll come get you,” Emmett grinned, pulling his hoodie off over his head, “I’ll show you how well my fur works in nice cool temperatures.”

“And if the wind picks up and I fly away? Can polar bears fly too?” Jian sounded reasonably scared when he spoke, so Emmett hugged him hard about the shoulders. The moment lasted too long, and he broke away with an embarrassed cough.

“Just let go: I’ll catch you.”

“So really it’s all about which death I would prefer?” Jian sighed and shook his head, “damn.”

No sooner had he spoken than he flicked the kite strings and launched the frame high into the air. It took one strong gust, and then Jian was speeding northwards over the ice. He was natural skier, quick to turn his feet and keep himself tacking in a nice set of looping curves. Emmett grinned, shed his remaining clothes, and launched himself across the ice after his friend.

He had to run hard to catch up with Jian, because the wind was strong, Jian weighed practically nothing, and he was quick on his feet for the turns. Emmett saw how well he steered the kite, elbows in at his sides, leaning back in his heels to counteract the pull of the kite, twitching the strings smoothly to control the wind resistance and direction they were taking. When Emmett drew alongside him, the little tiger was grinning like a maniac.

“This is awesome!”

“Haaoorm!” Emmett agreed with a roar as he settled into his run. They didn’t have to worry about the ice, because as far as the eye could see, everything was frozen to a depth of about nine feet. No ice breakers had been out in this part of the Bay all winter, so there were no leads opening up in front of them: not that Emmett had any doubts about Jian’s ability to jump them and carry on like it was nothing. Emmet considered kite-skiing to be one of the better methods of non-fuelled transport available on the planet, and it looked like Jian was quickly becoming a convert too. Even behind the tinted lenses of the ski mask Emmett had lent him, his orange eyes flashed with mirth.

“How far does this go?”

“Waaoorm!” Technically in the right season, it was possible to run all the way north without ever getting on land. If one went around the islands, you could simply ski all the way to the pole.

“That far? I don’t think we brought enough supplies!” Jian laughed. Then his smile faltered, “How are we getting home?”

“Hooum,” the polar bear chuckled. Emmett changed course and veered towards Jian, close enough for his fur to touch the boy’s coat for a moment before he sprung away again. They could worry about getting home later, for now there was just the joy of pounding across the ice with Jian skidding and skittering along beside him, working the kite like it was second nature.

They had probably gone more than ten miles out over the ice when the wind began to drop off, and soon Emmett found himself walking at a quick clip to keep pace with Jian, then he slowed as Jian crunched to a halt in the thin snow covering. There was enough breeze to keep the kite up, but not enough to tow even Jian’s weight. The boy brought the device down with a soft thud, and looked at Emmett.

“What now?”

“Rowm,” Emmett replied happily.

“Xue!” Jian skated closer to him, and then leant into the polar bear’s chest. “Here.” Jian took his jaw, pulled his face down, and kissed his muzzle, “Happy now?”

“Huurnt.”

“Xue-bear…” Jian took an enormous breath, “we have to talk about this. No, don’t change the subject,” the noise Emmett had been about to make died in his throat, “I know you heard what I said to Rye this morning: you forget my nose is better than yours.” Emmett would have asked why Jian hadn’t scented the moose coming either, but he wasn’t in much of a position to. “You heard me tell him Xue; I love you.” Emmett blinked several times, and Jian’s gloved fingers fisted in his fur. “Say something!”

“Rooaw woorl wrou.”

To Emmett’s surprise, Jian took a sudden step backwards, a frown passing over his features.

“You do?”

“Woaarl.”

“Then why have we been tiptoeing around all this time?” Jian was astounded, “I thought you didn’t like me!”

“Huuarmn…” the conversation was getting complicated, but Emmett didn’t fancy having it naked on the ice out in the Hudson Bay. Instead, he pushed at Jian with his big head, and paced to the kite.

Jian folded the kite up without fuss, and looked at Emmett strangely as the bear took the strings between his teeth and turned away. With no wind to tow them, and Jian not having ski poles, the best way to travel home was indeed by bear. Jian was no trouble at all to tow, and as Emmett paced along, his heard the young man singing softly to himself. It was the same melody he had hummed, and even though Emmett did not understand the words, sinuous syllables that were to him like the humming of violin strings, but again the pattern snagged in his mind and felt familiar, safe, and warm. Emmett wondered what it meant all the way back to the truck.

“Xue…” Jian was trying to get his attention, but Emmet was being obstinate as he dropped the kite lines and stepped out of their tangle, “Xue-bear…”

Emmett ignored Jian long enough to get hit by a hard packed snowball.

“Emmett!” He turned around guiltily with his ears pressed back over his skull, “we need to talk about this.”

“Huurnt.”

“Well it would be much easier if you were human; my ‘bear’ is good, but it’s not that good.” Jian frowned at him, “why don’t you wanna talk about this?”

Even if Emmett could have found bear-sounds which would have eloquently translated his thoughts, it wouldn’t have mattered, because there were no cohesive thoughts to translate. It seemed like such an easy thing, a tiny admission of ‘yes, I like you too, and I spend a lot of time thinking about you naked’, but somehow Emmett couldn’t bear to change what they had.

He had never had a friend like Jian: there had never been anyone with whom he got on so well so quickly, and with whom he shared so much. Likewise there had never been a boyfriend Emmett had been heartbroken over once they had split up. Zeke might have dumped him, but it wasn’t painful in the soul-crushing love-song way Emmett knew could one day happen. And he didn’t want that to happen to him and Jian. If the friendship they had dissolved into something else, and ended… Emmett hated to think about the conversation they would have where the little orange-eyes tiger looked at him with slight distain and told him they wouldn’t be seeing each other anymore. Emmett would rather keep having wonderful dreams and maintain the easy company that allowed them to sit on the couch shouting at hockey games, and steal food from each other’s plates.

“Wrooam woar…”

“Xue…” Jian’s voice wavered with blue uncertainty, “I don’t understand.”

Emmett pushed his face against the young man’s skinny chest, and instantly, Jian’s strong slim fingers found anchorage in his fur and clung on tightly. It was sort of pleasant and sort of awkward to stand with Jian hugging his head, but it had the advantage that Emmett didn’t have to look directly into his piercing orange gaze. He wanted to stay forever in the fuzzy space they occupied between friendship and whatever came afterwards. Emmett was about to try and say something useful, but Jian kissed the top of his head and beat him too it.

“This is OK.”

“Wrow?”

“For now, Emm: not forever.” Jian lifted his chin, so the big bear had to look at him. “I’m cold.”

Emmett was fairly certain that he wasn’t, because he knew Jian had two thermal layers on under the wind-stop jacket he wore under the tiger hoodie, but he didn’t say anything. The polar bear sat back on his haunches and pulled his friend up against his chest and into his lap. It was a space that Ryley had loved to occupy as a child, curled up and cuddled in the thick soft fur of a polar bear, warm and safe from the world outside. Jian was not his brother, but Emmett held him close just the same, one massive paw scooped up under the boy’s back and hips, and Jian burrowed into his fur like a cat hiding under sofa cushions. When Emmett felt Jian’s strong fingers moving against the fur of his chest, he realised how intimate the gesture had become.

Jian traced a smooth line over the polar bear’s face: touching his black nose, the velveteen tiny hairs that faded out before the edges of his dark lips, tracing the line of his jaw, the curve of his eye socket, the soft space between his eyes, and his little dish-shaped ears. Emmett shuddered under Jian’s exploratory touch, shivering in a manner that had nothing to do with the freezing temperatures. When Jian reached up to kiss him, Emmett held him close and rubbed his scent all over the little tiger, so that Jian would return home smelling only of his own white fur.

By the time they let each other go, the sky, never fully bright, was darkening again, the thick clouds expediting the sun’s passage towards the south. Jian broke down the kite and packed it away as though he had been doing it all his life, leaving Emmett to change and dress before getting into the truck to drive them back.

“Can I drive?”

“Er…,” Emmett paused, his hand on the door frame: it had not occurred to him that Jian could drive, “it’s a stick-shift; and the fifth gear is a bit gnarly at the low end…”

“Is that a ‘yes’?”

Emmett handed over the keys silently, but stepped away quick enough to avoid any lingering contact; he had managed to avoid becoming overtly aroused during the time they had spent cuddled up on the edge of the ice, but now he was back in his skin, certain things were harder to keep concealed. Jian started up the truck, scowled when he realised that the driver’s seat didn’t move forwards from the position that Emmett had it in, and ended up on the edge of his chair so that he could reach the pedals. Despite of all that, he drove like a lunatic.

“Whoa!”

“This is excellent!” Jian crunched up a gear and swung the truck around a corner at a much higher speed than Emmett would have. They went over a ridge of snow, bounced on the ice and Emmett was thankful he had paid for the heavy duty suspension to be fitted before he’d driven to Ukkusiksalik. “This is way better than driving in the city; there’s nothing to hit!”

Just as Emmett was about to point out that impacting a fully grown Northern Spruce at high speed was not recommended as a particularly safe and sensible thing to do, Jian straightened out the wheel, slowed and resumed driving in a much more ordinary manner.

“Of course,” he moved his hand from the gear stick to Emmett's thigh, and took the polar bear’s bigger paw, “this is nice too.”

When Jian had to change gear, he let go of Emmett’s fingers, but other than that the two young men were in contact the whole way home.

*

They arrived back to find that it was Emmett’s turn to cook, so after stowing the kite back in the cold-weather garage, Emmett directed Jian to drive to Moosonee’s only supermarket. It was smaller than the market on the corner of their street in Toronto, but it was just about possible to buy all the ingredients there to cook all of the basics.

“What are we making?” Emmett asked his little friend.

“You’re not cooking anythin’,” Jian replied, giving him a little push, “I haven’t cooked for your family yet, and I think we should show your dad how to use some of those spices we brought up.”

“You want me to go get a whole pork belly?” Emmett grinned excitedly.

“And at least 6 pounds of shoulder meat: I wanna make char siu bao. I’ll meet you in the vegetable aisle.”

Emmett wandered off to get the meat, and wondered what Jian would make of the selection of fresh vegetables only three feet wide. The young man apparently managed to get everything he wanted, because the little tiger began to stack Emmett’s arms with produce, muttering away to himself in Chinese as he selected yet more things from the shelves they passed. Emmett was almost grateful when he was able to dump the unstable and awkward load on the counter.

“Did you need the kitchen sink as well?”

“Hey Naira; no thanks, he’s got one of those in the truck already,” Emmett smiled, and Jian elbowed him hard in the ribs. Emmett made a show of wincing, not that it didn’t hurt.

“Jerk! You do realise that if you make fun of my shopping then I won’t feed you?” Emmett’s face fell with Jian’s words, and the tiger smirked in triumph, “and for that you have to carry all the bags.”

From behind the counter, Naira smiled at them.

“He’s got you beat there Emmett,” she put the last few items through the hand held scanner and pushed them towards Emmett to be packed into bags, “been a long time since anyone could ever tell you what to do: I’d hang on to him.”

“Oh, I will,” Emmett scooped up the bags and headed out towards the truck, but he didn’t move fast enough to miss what Naira said to Jian next.

“I mean it hun; if Emmett had been straight there’s barely a woman in this town who wouldn’t be trying to snag him. Keep a hold of him.”

Emmett didn’t turn around, but he smelt the wash of warm red, run through with orange and gold, that emanated from Jian as he smiled, thanked Naira, and turned away to catch up with the polar bear. The little tiger didn’t say thing to him, but as he handed Emmett the keys, Jian stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek ever so briefly. Emmett blushed quickly, and covered his reaction by slamming the door of the truck just a little bit harder than he really needed too. By the time they got home, Emmett’s stomach was rumbling softly.

“Three days?” Jian asked with a smile, “don’t worry, just a few more hours and I’ll feed you.” He stroked his hand down Emmett’s stomach, over the prominent ridges of his abdomen and purred gently. “Help me with the groceries? I think that pork belly weighs about as much as I do.”

Emmett watched with his arms folded over his chest as Jian calmly chased both Kateri and his father from the kitchen and began arranging spices along the counter. Just as he thought he was going to get sent away as well, Jian grabbed his wrist a pulled him into the kitchen with a grin.

“You can be my sous chef. I need someone to cube all of that meat.”

“Your last slave died of what exactly?” Emmett arched an eyebrow at his friend.

“Too little sex and too much work,” Jian replied confidently, “come on, you: get chopping. I don’t pay you to stand around here all day.” He took a large enamel dish and began to measure out heaped quantities of spices and pastes; very quickly the room began to smell fantastic. Emmett took up his father’s sharpest knife and began to slice up the pork belly into long inch thick strips.

“You don’t pay me at all,” he grumbled good-naturedly.

“More’s the pity.”

Emmett blushed again, and concentrated on not slicing off one of his fingers as he began to chop the pork belly strips into chunky little cubes.

As far a he could tell, a lot of Jian’s traditional cooking involving half cooking or preparing lots of things and then leaving them to stew in their flavourings for a few hours, thinking about what they’d done. Emmett didn’t dare touch all the red, yellow, black and orange mixes, or the red pastes, and simply cut what Jian directed him too, then spent a while gently sautéing rings of green onion along with handfuls of chopped cashew nuts while some sultanas soaked and swelled in a dish of hot tea and lime juice. The red cooked pork dish started cooking first, the stove set on a heat so low Emmett wondered if it would start to do anything. Just as Jian put the lid back on the big casserole dish, Emmett began to fill the sink to start washing up.

“Your brother was saying that you never wash up,” Jian mentioned with a small frown, taking up a tea towel in order to dry the first items Emmett handed him.

“I hate doing it, but I trained myself,” Emmett shrugged. “I figured Huan-Yu deserved to live in a clean house, even if he doesn’t ever cook or eat anything.”

“It’s a panda thing,” Jian sighed, “he’s too picky for his own damn good, that one.”

“Are they all like that?” Emmett asked he washed the knives carefully.

“Pretty much. His dad is just the same: barely eats, hates conflict, has no ambition. He’s assistant manager in a high street bank branch. I really think he and Rain’s mum only got married because they had to; she was pregnant. When you meet them you get the clear feeling that they’ve never really liked each other – though of course, that’s the feeling you get from pretty much all panda’s. As a species they are so unambitious that they end up seeming distant and cold.”

Emmett raised an eyebrow at his friend, and passed him over a chopping board.

“You think Huan-Yu’s ever, y’know…?”

“Had sex? Yeah, once,” Jian rolled his eyes at Emmett’s confused expression. “He told me: I am his favourite cousin.” The wiped down the chopping board thoughtfully before he continued. “He met some girl, the perfect girl, and they had what he described as amazing sex: then he got clingy, she got confused, and she left. He wasn’t in love with her or anything; he’s just really choosy.”

“Fuck… I can’t imagine.” Emmett was rather glad there weren’t any dry spells in his sexual history longer than about three months. He glanced at Jian, and he was sure he saw a wistful sort of expression pass over Jian’s features. For the second time that day, Emmett wondered why he was so scared to make a move on the cute little tiger that was so obviously crushing on him. “I can’t imagine being as uninterested in food as he is.”

“Well, pandas are dying out: is it any wonder?” Jian crossed the kitchen to go and stir one of his pans and Emmett watched him openly. He wondered what Jian would say if he knew exactly what Emmett’s brain was thinking about his delicious arse, but if the not-tiger scented the lustful colours filing up the room, he didn’t mention it. “I like your friends; they all seem pretty proud of you.”

“Moosonee doesn’t produce a lot of academics,” Emmett confessed, “the number of high school kids good at hockey and with the brains to go to college on academic merit alone are few and far between. The fact that I stayed on and got more than one degree and became a lecturer makes my friends think I’m a lot smarter than I am.”

“You are smart Xue,” Jian bumped against his thigh as he reached across Emmett to fetch yet another wooden spoon, “you’re the second brightest polar bear I know.”

“Cheek,” Emmett ruffled Jian’s silky smooth hair, “Cook your damn food Tiger.”

“You wanna soak the rice for me while I roll out the bao?” Jian smiled at him, and it was a relaxed and easy gesture. Whatever tension Emmett had felt building in his heart had somehow melted away as they cooked and chatted.

Bao turned out to be a type of very white dough Jian had been secretly making over in the corner of the kitchen over the previous few days, and when he pulled the plastic cover from the bowl, Emmett frowned at the slight vinegary scent given off by what appeared to be an enormous fluffy pillow. As soon as Jian began to handle it, the air bubbles departed, and under his direction, Emmett pinched off little sections the size of walnuts for Jian to roll out into soft little discs. Just as the counter was resembling a factory processing line, the dough ran out, and Emmett got to work pulling the char siu slow cooked pork apart with a couple of forks.

“So what are these things again?”

“Bao are a kind of steamed bun Xue,” Jian scooped up a circle of dough, placed a big pinch of the pulled apart pork mix in the centre and then pleated the edges with a speed and accuracy which left Emmett staring, “a very traditional part of dim sum. We’ll leave these to rise for another half hour or so and then they’ll be ready to steam when we want dinner.” Jian pinched another bun into a lovely little pleated parcel as Emmett watched. “I can’t believe I haven’t made them for you yet. I’ve been a bad guest.”

“Stealing my food and making me buy imported beer… whatever next?”

“Xue!” Jian pushed him gently, and their hips bumped together softly, “I’ll pay you back somehow.”

“You already have little Tiger; you came north with me after all.”

Jian’s smile was like the rising of the sun in springtime, suddenly bright and accompanied by warmth the residents of Moosonee wouldn’t have felt for many months. Emmett was seized by the desire to gather the slender boy into his arms, and he wished he was wearing his fur so that he could do just that.

“Here, I’ll show you,” Jian picked up another disc and handed it to Emmett. The polar bear frowned, and tried to cup his massive fingers around the dough as Jian was doing so delicately. The boy smiled and sighed, then ducked and stood himself against Emmett’s chest so that he could show the polar bear exactly what to do. “OK, softer: be gentle, it’s only dough.” His fingers on Emmett’s skin were surprisingly warm as he turned Emmett’s hand the right way. “So we fill the centre with the char siu pork,” he placed the right amount into the centre, then popped a fragment in his mouth, “here Xue, try it.” Emmett took the flavoured meat from Jian’s fingers carefully enough to know that when the boy’s fingers brushed his lower lip, it was a deliberate gesture. “Now we roll: dim sum is all fingers and thumbs, so put your right thumb inside the pastry, just here: no, not in the filling. So you use the index fingers on the other hand to fold over, make a little pleat: yup, just like that. Turn the dough and do it again, and it makes a chinese fan shape. Then keep going and the last one... oh-!” Emmett stood there looking at the inexpertly folded ball of pastry which was now enclosing the end of his thumb, feeling stupid. “Maybe not quite like that.”

“Yeah,” Emmett removed the wadded bao bun from his hand and gave it to Jian, who somehow fixed it into a perfect fanned parcel within seconds. “You stick to the fiddly stuff: I’ll just kill seal for dinner.”

“Xue, you can be delicate: look at your maps.”

“That’s different.”

“It’s just practice, ba- Xue: you’ll get the hang of it.” Jian recovered from his verbal slip up rather well. “After all, aren’t you the smartest guy in town?”

“Flatterer.”

“Yup, c’mon, let’s get out of the kitchen. You want to go for a walk?”

“Sure.”

To Emmett, going for a walk meant going out in his fur, so he let Jian pull on boots and go out ahead of him, while he stripped off and shifted in the fresh layer of snow. The sky had darkened, thickly overcast with heavy clouds that promised more snow overnight to add to the layer of brand new powder Jian crunched through. Emmett caught up with the little tiger, lifting his hood by one ear and placing it over his super soft hair.

“Wrooam.”

“Hey Xue-bear, thanks.” Jian adjusted his hood and perked up his ears as the snow came down around them, “oh, it got cold.”

Emmett rubbed himself along Jian’s side, the boy’s fingers instantly latching into his thick fur, and nuzzled at his hip. Jian laughed softly and wrapped his arms as best he could around the bear’s thick neck as they walked from the open back garden and into the surrounding woodland. The air under the thick boughs of the trees was fractionally colder, but there was a lot less snow, and in places the trees grew close enough together to ensure patches of bare earth and dead pine needles. Only in the summer would the ferns break forth in patches of sunlight, making the world seem full of life for a few very short months. Emmett hadn’t seen his home town without snow for four years, and the thought made him strangely sad.

“What’s wrong Xue-bear?” Jian ran chilly fingers over the top of the bear’s head, “what are you being blue about?”

“Huurn,” Emmett shrugged. It didn’t matter much, and it was going to be too complicated to explain. Instead he simply nuzzled Jian back, and then butted the boy off balance with his head.

“Xue!” Jian grabbed the fur of his ruff, but instead of pulling himself up, he held the polar bear down, “meanie.”

“Rooamf,” Emmett exhaled heavily as he lay down on his front, paws either side of Jian’s hips and thighs. The boy smiled up at the trees above them, looking strangely comfortable lying in the thin snow with his arms crossed behind his head. Emmett furrowed his brow and snuffled at Jian’s chest, nosing under the fabric of his striped hoodie. When his nose touched the boy’s soft skin, he froze and made to back off, but found Jian’s fingers tight in his ruff, holding him still.

“It’s OK,” Jian’s voice was barely a whisper, “please Xue.”

Emmett took a deep breath. With his nose and mouth touching Jian’s skin, he was filled up completely with Jian’s exotic and flowery scent. It invaded him through all his pores and when Emmett opened his eyes to look at the boy, everything was blurred, and Jian was shining in the half light.

“Xue,” there was a note of a whimper in Jian’s voice, a sound Emmett had only heard in his dreams, and it wound its way inside his brain and grabbed a hold of his libido as Jian whined, “please…”

Emmett pressed his cold nose back against Jian’s skin, and breathed on his abdomen. Jian’s breath hitched in his chest, and Emmett put more of his muzzle under the boy’s many layers of clothes and sniffed greedily at his scent. When his lips touched Jian’s nipple, the boy moaned in a manner that was downright lewd. For a moment, the polar bear wanted to pull back, but as Jian shifted underneath him, he could feel the heat and hardness of the boy’s erection through his fur. Emmett figured it couldn’t hurt to nose his way back south and breathe against Jian’s navel. He was surprised when he felt the boy’s hands on the back of his head, half scratching behind his ears, but essentially pushing Emmett further down towards his crotch.

“Wuurnmt…” Emmett tried to back off, just enough to look up at Jian, and found the boy panting, lips damp and soft, looking the way he had in Emmett’s jerk-off fantasy, with his shirt pushed up to show his pecs, his hood up, and his ears forwards. Emmett was unable to look away, and in the back of his brain, he realised that he physically couldn’t tear his eyes from Jian’s face. Whatever the boy asked him, Emmett knew he would do it, even if he didn’t want to.

“Touch me,” Jian’s voice was half a purr, and Emmett couldn’t resist him at all. He moved his muzzle down, under Jian’s direct instruction, and nuzzled and nosed at his crotch. He pressed his little dish-shaped ears back against his skull, because even as his senses flooded with Jian’s rich scent and their combined lust, the back of his mind was purple and green with hot shame. He shouldn’t be doing this, pinning the smaller, younger boy under his weight and touching him as a bear. It was so wholly inappropriate behaviour that Emmett couldn’t even work out how he had gotten himself into such a situation, but he couldn’t do anything other than what Jian asked him.

The young man let go of Emmett’s fur, touched his lips and nose with soft fingers, and then the sound of his zipper opening rent the cold air. Jian hissed, sucking air between his teeth, and Emmett pressed the underside of his jaw over the little tiger’s exposed skin. Jian purred happily, and when Emmett felt the thickening of his arousal against his throat, he gulped, blinked and looked down. Jian was exactly the way Emmett had imagined him: perfectly proportioned, neither overly large nor small, and his cock had a blush pink tint to the tan skin that was deeply enticing. His erection bobbed in the cold air, not quite reaching the dip of his navel, and when Emmett breathed on him, Jian shivered in a very different way than he did from the cold.

“Xue?” Jian’s smile faded at the corners, “babe?”

Emmett said nothing. He couldn’t find his voice, his ability to make independent actions trapped somewhere behind the shining vision of Jian, but he could not move forwards and do what he knew the boy wanted. If Jian’s tone changed, if he commanded Emmett to touch him again, the big polar bear knew that he would be powerless to resist. The confidence in Jian’s eyes faltered.

“No, it’s OK.” He half sat up, adjusting his clothes to cover himself. “I shouldn’t have asked you… I’m sorry.”

When Jian blinked, Emmett felt a pressure relax from around his mind: he hadn’t even noticed how tight it had been until it vanished. He backed off from the little not-tiger suddenly, pacing back until his paws found much deeper snow. Emmett shook his great head, snorted through his nose, replacing Jian’s floral scent with the familiar smell of pine and cold snow. The boy was watching him with wide orange eyes, and he looked desperate and scared.

“I’m sorry, Xue…”

Emmett snorted, shook his head, and turned away from the young man. As he fled the woodland, all he could hear was the awful sound of Jian’s misery: wordless, blue and dark, and stacked with pain. Emmett felt the same colours reflecting in his brain, swirled up with shame that made him want to claw at the inside of his head. He ran home, and Jian’s sobs followed him all the way.