Tiger Winter - 15. Misery

All night, Emmett tossed and turned, woke and slept in fits, and by the time the sky lightened very slightly, the indigo dawn of pre-twilight seeping in across the snow like badly mixed watercolours, he was wrapped up in all of his blankets, curled into the corner of his bedroom. Emmett was tired, but every time he closed his eyes to sleep, all he could hear were Jian’s wretched sobs, the memory overlapping the sadness he had felt emanating from the boy’s room the night Zeke had stayed over. Combined with the strange compulsive helplessness he had felt in the woods, the feeling filled Emmett with a sense of shame he had never known before. Not only had he hurt the little tiger, but he too felt wounded by what had happened in the woods. They hadn’t spoken about it; Emmett had simply fled to his room, and upon his arrival Jian had gone to the kitchen, steamed the bao, and put the rest of dinner on the table. Emmett had eaten, because not doing so would look suspicious, but he had been unable to join his family’s praise of the exotic and unusual food. Afterwards, it had been Rye and Logan’s turn to wash up, and Emmett had shut himself in his room without another word.

For three days, they barely said two words to each other.

“Emmett?”

The big polar bear turned to see his brother walking towards him through the thick layer of new snow. It hadn’t stopped since he and Jian had gone for their disastrous walk, and the world was once again Christmas-card white and picturesque looking out over the trees. The two pale bears nuzzled softly, and Emmett found his little brother draped over his neck and shoulders.

“Why so sad Emm?”

Emmett sighed and nuzzled the thick fur of his brother’s ruff. He didn’t want to explain to Rye what had happened, partially because he felt awkward talking to his younger brother about the guy he fancied, and partly because he still wasn’t entirely sure what had happened. He had touched Jian, as a bear, in ways he wanted to, but hadn’t dared to even visualise, and had found his free will gone, enslaved to the tone of Jian’s voice. It was a terrifying prospect not to be in control of what he wanted, and Emmett couldn’t help but be reminded of the dream he had experienced before it had been interrupted by the moose. He didn’t want to hurt the little tiger, but his subconscious had other ideas, and Emmett hadn’t felt particularly happy in skin or fur since.

“Let’s go fishing,” Ryley nudged his shoulder, “come on bro: we’ll go up river and get ourselves some nice big pike. Pop said the fishery commission is asking everyone to keep and kill all pike because they’ve been illegally introduced.” When Emmett didn’t respond, Rye took his ear between his teeth and chewed gently. “We’d be doing everyone a favour; c’mon Emm.” When Rye’s gently chewing turned to a harder bite, Emmett growled, and figured he had used up his allotted amount of sulking time.

There were often bears hanging around Moose River. On the uneven surface of the water, the ice didn’t thicken very much, and was weakened where it moved constantly against the banks. Emmett and Rye avoided the town and the ice-track which stood in place of a more permanent road down, and loped easily through the edge of the thick pine woodlands towards the river. There were indeed traces of another bear as they arrived at the river’s edge, and Emmett stood on his hind legs and scented the air.

“Haarrom!” he shouted into the chill sky. There was an answering bark, and the scent of the young bear on the opposite river bank beating a hasty retreat from the arrival of stronger rivals. Rye had brought them out to an area where a collection of boulders made up a series of slightly calmer pools, and the young bear used his massive paws to clear the floating ice from their fishing grounds.

“Stop intimidating the locals, bro: come fish.”

Emmett could never resist his brother’s playfulness for long, and Rye’s good nature infected his sullen mood until the pair of them were elbow deep in the water, scanning the dark pool for fish. Pike liked to lay low in the shadows, half-hibernating in the cold river, but once disturbed they were slippery to catch. After an hour, both bears were bedraggled under their fur, if not actually wet, but each had a large fish caught in his teeth. Emmett watched as his little brother rolled over several times in the powdery snow, turning himself into a white puffy ball of fluff before returning to his fish.

“You’re weird, Rye,” Emmett smiled and cocked an ear at his little brother, “thank you.”

“Welcome,” Rye grinned, his muzzle already stained with fish blood. He swallowed noisily and arched an invisible eyebrow at his older sibling. “If you’re not gonna eat that…” Emmett snarled, grabbing his huge fish by its thick body and crunching directly through flesh and spine. “I thought so. What did you and Jian fight about?”

Emmett dropped the fish in shock.

“What?”

“Oh Emm, seriously? You’ve both been moping around the house for three days: it doesn’t take a genius to work out you must be upset over the same thing. You look like someone just kicked your puppy, and he smells like a funeral. What did you fight about?”

“Nothing,” Emmett really didn’t want be involved in any discussion of how he felt, “it’s complicated.”

“It’s always complicated with you two,” Rye finished eating his fish, and nosed the remains of the carcass into the river to be taken away by the current; someone else would eat it. “Why is that?”

“Rye…” Emmett sighed heavily.

“No, don’t tell me I’ll ‘understand when I’m older’, Emm. I’m seventeen: I understand plenty.”

“It’s not the same.”

No sooner had Emmett spoken, then he found his brother launching across the snow at him, and Emmett grunted with force and surprise as the younger, small bear, pushed him backwards. Emmett snarled, reared up onto his hind legs, and Rye dived for his midriff and pushed him over into the snow with a shout of triumph. Emmett growled without feeling, his cracked ribs aching gently from the impact, and Rye backed off enough to allow his older brother to right himself again.

“I don’t want to lose him,” Emmett said before Rye could open his mouth again, “I’ve never gotten along with anyone like I have with him: I can’t let that go.”

“I don’t think you have to Emm; he loves you.” Rye frowned, his tone confused and soft.

“I know little bear, I know,” Emmett paused, “I’m just so scared it’ll all go wrong.”

Rye nuzzled in close under his chin, staining Emmett’s fur with pike blood and oil, and Emmett felt the great outpouring of love from the smaller bear. He wrapped himself around his brother, breathing in his scent and the familiar texture of his particular brand of adoration until his head felt clear. When Ryley stepped back to look at him, Emmett found himself looking into a pair of dark brown eyes, almost black, that were exactly like his own.

“The Emmett I know isn’t scared of anything: what happened to the big brother who attacked a leopard seal to save me?”

“That was about the second stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” Emmett muttered, lowering his head onto his paws. Rye stood over him and gummed gently at his ear once more.

“Second stupidest?”

“Stupidest thing was thinking I could keep any secrets from you,” Emmett rolled his eyes at his brother, “anyone ever tell you you’re too smart for your own good?”

“All the time,” Rye chirped happily. “Emm, why does Jian smell ashamed? What happened?”

“No,” Emmett nuzzled his brother, “You don’t get to ask that; sorry Rye. Come on; let’s get some more fish and head back.”

They dragged their haul back to the house on a large spruce bough which Emmett had torn from a tree with his teeth, and they took turns in heaving the load home over the snow and ice, the other nosing at the dead fish, making sure they stayed in place and fetching any that decided to fall off into the powder. It took them more than an hour to reach the haven of the back garden, and to Emmett’s complete lack of surprise, his father and brother were standing outside the house in their fishing gear, gutting knives at the ready. Emmett shrugged out of his fur, accompanied by the sound of crunching bones, cartilage, and joints, and knelt down to wash himself in the snow. His face and neck were bloody from the hunt, and he didn’t fancy seeing Jian looking like a wild man. Rye rolled around in his fur like a puppy, and Emmett left him to it as he neatened his hair with his fingers, donned jeans and a green Northland Fisheries hoodie, and entered the house.

Jian’s scent hit him like a slap in the face, an overpowering wall of warm honey and jasmine scents, and Emmett hated that the lovely natural orange tones of his friend were still marred by his purple sadness. Emmett found the little not-tiger curled up on the sofa, for once without his species-striped hoodie, reading not a book, but an academic journal. Emmett walked up behind him and read the title of the article over his shoulder.

On the Growth and Social Development of Adolescent Polar Bears

“That’s one of grandpa’s,” he said with a smile, “where’d you find it?”

“In your room,” it was impossible to miss Jian’s self-conscious squirming. “It’s about you, isn’t it?”

“And Logan: but yes, mostly it’s about me,” Emmett smiled softly. The fact Jian had been thinking of him enough to be poking about in his room and reading an article about him showed that all was not lost. “You think it’s interesting?”

“Sure, you’ve changed a lot since this though; you’re no longer quite so possessive over your food.”

“Sharing is fun too,” Emmett went to automatically ruffle Jian’s felt and cloth ears, and instead found the boy’s smooth silky hair under his palm. He stroked gently, and felt Jian murmur a purr, “I’m sorry.”

“Xue?”

“Shhh,” Emmett silenced him with half a breath, “not now.” Emmett hefted his new book on the history and use of the sextant and settled himself onto the other end of the sofa, close enough that Jian’s knee bumped his thigh. “We’re good.”

He didn’t look up from the book, but for the first time in three days, Emmett felt Jian’s smile, and it was good.

*

The last time Emmett had tried to do something nice for his friend, it had indirectly led them both to the most awkward conversation that Emmett had ever had, so it was with some trepidation he looked up the Quachegan’s phone number, and waited on the line to speak to Mesier’s older brother.

“Silas?”

“Emmett? Good god, man: I thought you’d gone home already!”

“Not for a few weeks,” Emmett grinned to himself, “we didn’t see you on Boxing Day.”

“The guys told me I’d just missed you. Shadow and Jackson were dead impressed with your sharp little foreign friend.”

“Yeah, about him…” Emmett smiled to himself, thinking of Jian and the easy way they had said goodnight to each other the day before. “I was hoping we could borrow a sled and half a team? I just want to take him out a little bit, show him why we love northern winters so much.”

“You wanna drive?” Silas sounded doubtful, and Emmett didn’t blame him, “no offense Emmett, but you’re shit with the dogs. I’ve got time this afternoon, and the weather’s supposed to be clear: we’ll take a full team out and I’ll drive you both. Unless of course I’d get in the way of you two…”

“Silas!”

“Good,” Emmett could feel Silas grinning, “all these people thinking having sex in the snow is romantic… lunatics.”

“See ya Silas.”

Like everyone else, Emmett had found out that doing anything even remotely sexy in the snow was a stupid idea. How anyone, let alone any of his friends, had ever made it all the way to actual sex without freezing their nuts off bewildered him. Emmett didn’t feel the cold like ordinary people did, but maintaining an erection in minus thirty was no easy feat, especially when the person trying to feel you up was similarly concerned with the warmth and safety of his own dick. Frostbite was awful, but nowhere was it worse than on the tender flesh of a foreskin. To have lain in the thin snow under the trees with his fly open, Jian was either superhuman or strangely warm, and Emmett had no doubts believing that the little not-tiger burned hotter than most.

Emmett crossed his room to go and find Jian, and opened the door to find the slender man’s fist aimed for chest. He failed to swerve, and Jian hit him in the sternum without force.

“I’d have sworn there was a door there…”

“Hey,” Emmett caught his fist and squeezed briefly before stepping back. The distance between them was already too close and thick with their combined scents and body heat. For a moment Emmett reconsidered what he had planned for their afternoon, but Jian smiled at him, and Emmett couldn’t resist the idea of making him happier. “We’re going dog sledding.”

“What?” Jian blinked rapidly.

“You know: a sled with runners, a team of huskies, going ‘mush!’ like in the movies…”

Jian jabbed him in the abdomen with his small sharp fist.

“I know what dog sledding is, Xue! Just, you don’t have dogs, and…” he let the end of the sentence trail off into nothingness. At the end of that nothingness, where until recently there had been only the blank space of the unknown, Emmett now recoiled from the shameful prospect of what might have been.

“A friend is going to take us,” Emmett tried to cover the uncomfortable moment with another smile. “We gotta get dressed properly and eat something before we go.”

Emmett had known in an uncomfortably direct way, what Jian had been thinking. Despite the ease with which they had said goodnight to each other, the little tiger thought that Emmett didn’t want to spend time with him; and for the first time, the polar bear understood why. Jian had told him he loved him, and Emmett had said he’d known. A natural conclusion from that point might have been for the two of them to find the nearest warm and private space, make out, get naked, have excellent sex, and then possibly spend the rest of their time within touching distance of one another for the entire trip and many weeks beyond. And yet things were not turning out the way Jian had obviously wanted them to, or in any way Emmett might have planned either. Emmett had overheard the boy telling his own brother he thought they were mates, meant to be together, and yet he could not bear to risk the friendship they had. Apparently in doing so that friendship had been badly bruised anyway, and now Emmett needed to know if it could be repaired.

He drove them out to the other side of town, south on the very edge and past the train station, to the house where Silas Quachegan, his brother, their parents, and the family’s many dogs lived. It was, as always, packed with dogs who barked before the truck had even finished pulling up: by the time Emmett killed the engine, the noise was cacophonous, but instead of glancing over to the passenger seat and seeing Jian looking scared, concerned, or worried, the boy in his tiger striped hoodie was already getting out of the truck, a huge happy grin plastered over his features.

“Hello, hi boys…” Jian’s tone was soft enough to make the dogs begin to calm, their barks no longer that of ‘I see an intruder’, but firm enough to make them listen, “there’s good lads, good girl… hey pup, good boy…” by the time Silas came around the side of the house to greet them, Jian was already making fast friends with most of the dogs chained up at the front of the property, scratching their fur and ruffling their ears. Emmett remembered when Jian had done the same to him, and was suddenly unaccountably jealous.

“Well I see he doesn’t need anyone’s help.” Silas grinned and he and Emmett shook hands slightly formally before the very manly half-a-hug. He turned to Jian, who was on his knees in the thin snow, talking with a very pretty black husky with a white mask and paws, “he can always tell a dog person when he sees one. You must be Jian-the-Tiger.”

“People call me that?”

“Sure,” Silas read Jian’s happy smile correctly, “come on, Tiger: if you get on this well with dogs, we’re going to have to introduce you to the puppies before you meet the team.”

It being winter, the puppies and their mother had been housed in the only truly indoor part of the kennels. The Quachegan’s didn’t breed a lot of dogs, and they were very selective, because they, like many others, did not wish to contribute to the stray dog situation which occurred too often in their part of the world. On being told each of the puppies either already had a home to go to or was to be put into sled dog training, Jian’s face fell a little, but he was more than happy to climb into the round pen, allow the protective mother to sniff him, before the three week old bundles of fluff began to crawl, snuggle, nuzzle and worm their way all over him. The pups were all various combinations of lavender-grey and white, a few smattering of dark fur on their paws, noses, and ears, and Jian took to them as instantly as they took to him.

“Awww, Emm!” Jian lifted a particularly big and fluffy puppy up into his arms, “aren’t they cute?”

Emmett reached out with one massive hand, easily bigger than the dog’s head, and stroked it gingerly between the ears. The puppies had always made him slightly nervous, because he was always petrified he would tread on one, and despite his happy relationship with Boots, he had never been very good with the working dogs. The puppy snuffled and sneezed, and Emmett withdrew his hand quickly.

“He suits you,” Silas smiled, “you don’t have a dog?” Jian shook his head, unable to tear his gaze away from the adorable puppy. “You should. Come on little Tiger. Let’s go show you how we really travel around here!”

Silas jabbed Emmett’s shoulder, and teased him gently for being so attached to his warm air conditioned truck and his life down south as they walked out past the kennels to where Silas had already harnessed the sled dogs. Silas worked the dogs in the traditional manner while his younger brother was fired up with the perceived glamour of racing, so the Quachegan sled shed was a long low building filled with a variety of sleds in different shapes, sizes and styles. The long travelling sled was parked, strapped up with the snow brake set and a tree hook tied off to a thick post buried deep in the ground. Stretched out in the front of the sled were a team of eight dogs, their lines tight and their heads up, tongues out, and tails high and happy. Jian giggled happily, and skipped along next to Silas to be introduced to the team while Emmett skirted along them to the sled.

“You always gotta approach the dogs from the front: if the lines get tangled, it’ll all go wrong. They’ve gotta be nice and tight. Now, this fella here is my lead dog,” the leader was a strong looking black creature with a white tail and one white ear, “he’s the big brother of the guy you met out front. Jian, this is Saxon, and next to him is the pup Bowser: he’s in training. Then we have the two girls, Fox and Otter, and then these chaps are Old Bud, he’s close to retirement, and Jin-Jin: you don’t wanna pet him, he’s a great runner and he’ll pull all day but he’ll take your hand off without the slightest provocation.” Silas shook his head at the big grey Siberian, “For love nor money I would not breed from that dog. Finally we’ve got the two big furballs, twin malamutes Storm and Squall; they’ll work like hell and they love people, but they’re thick as two short ones.”

Jian greeted all the dogs, except Jin-Jin, by ruffling their ears, allowing them to sniff him, and getting slobbered on by the malamutes. By the time he got to Emmett, he was grinning just like he had at Christmas and during his first snowfall. Emmett felt his heart glow and flare at the sight; Jian’s warm orange scent invading his brain once more. Silas had fitted out the long sled for passenger travel, the bag lined with furs, and a little pouch which Emmett knew from experience would hold a flask of hot water and some caribou jerky. Jian’s happy smile fell slightly when he found out that he didn’t get to drive the sled.

“Another trip little Tiger, and with a smaller team. Even your buddy Emmett here isn’t strong enough to hold these guys.”

Jian arched an eyebrow at the big polar bear and frowned. Emmett simply shrugged, because whilst he could certainly hold the eight dogs traces and not allow them to run away, he could not control the power they were capable of building in the sled. Emmett sat in first, against the back of the sled, and Jian smiled with delight as he patted the space in between his knees with a grin. Silas left them to zip themselves in and went to the back of the sled to pull on his parka and make ready. Having Jian snuggled up between his thighs, pressed with his back against Emmett’s chest as the polar bear zipped them up into the warm sled bag made Emmett’s heart glow. When Jian smiled, even though Emmett couldn’t see his face directly, he shone just like he had in the dark pine forest; only this time, Emmett wrapped an arm around his waist, and smiled too.

“Ready boys?” Silas’s voice was muffled at the edges by the bandana over his face, but his excited tone could not be mistaken, “OK then: MUSH!” As the dogs sprang against their harness, Silas unhitched the line which held the sled, and with a sudden jerk which pushed Emmett back into the sled and pressed Jian further into the hollow made by Emmett’s body, they were off.

Jian whooped in joy, and as Silas ‘hawed’ the dogs around the first corner, there was an answering bark of joy all along the line of pulling dogs. Silas was right, the dogs loved their work, and each one of them ran with their chest’s pulling against the colourful padded harnesses as they built speed across the snow and ice.

With Jian snuggled up against him, both of them with restricted movement due to the tight sled bag holding them in place and keeping them warm, Emmett found it difficult to focus on the dogs, the passing scenery, or anything that Silas was saying. Jian may have been listening to a short history of Moosonee with particular focus on the use of sled dogs, their care, treatment, use, and training, but Emmett was gently entranced by the way the wind blew strands of Jian’s silky hair up and over his hood. Somehow, the hood of his early Christmas present with its stiff perked-up ears never blew down, and Emmett used the cover it provided to lay his cheek against the back of Jian’s head and simply enjoy the boy’s physical company while the sled skittered along.

There was one moment that stood out to Emmett. As the dogs turned a corner, the wind died, and in the silence of the lack of wind, Emmett heard Jian’s voice, singing softly a tune to which Emmett could not understand the words. The polar bear felt his heart light up at the sound, and the scent of silicate warm jasmine that came with it, and he realised his friendship with Jian hadn’t been too broken to fix after all.

*

“Ow… fuck…”

Emmett pulled himself out of the soup of unconsciousness with both hands. It was pitch black in his room, and he had only just fallen asleep to being with. He, Jian, Rye, and Logan had stayed up to watch an appalling but funny late night American cop movie, and it had been past one by the time Emmett had shed his clothes and crawled gratefully into his bed. He had fallen asleep almost instantly.

There was the sound of shuffling and then another bout of whispered swearing as Emmett’s invader struck the corner of the bed with some part of his anatomy. Emmett frowned at the scent that invaded his nostrils.

“Jian?”

“Fuck, it’s darker than the inside of a dog in here,” Jian’s voice was suddenly much closer in the dark, “move over, Xue.”

“Huh?” Emmett half sat up, which allowed his visitor to find the edge of the duvet and slither into the space beside him. Jian clung instantly against him, and his bare feet against Emmett’s shins were like ice. “Great Spirits, boy! Go back to your own bed.”

“No,” Jian’s tone was obstinate, and he wrapped his arms around Emmett’s torso. Automatically, the bear shifted, made room, and brought his arm around Jian so the boy could use his shoulder as a pillow. “After sleeping in your bed I realised quite how damn uncomfortable that sofa is. Go back to sleep.”

“Jian…” Emmett complained.

“Oh jeez, Xue,” Jian’s strong fingers dug into his abdomen for a moment, “I’m not going to attack you in your sleep. I just want to be comfortable, and warm.”

“Where are the booties?”

“I couldn’t find them in the dark,” Jian muttered. He rolled over, presenting his spine to the bear, and Emmett reached out without a moment’s hesitation and pulled the young man back against his chest. He was still able to use Emmett’s shoulder and sizable bicep as a pillow and with a purr Jian pulled the edge of the thick duvet around his chin.

It was amazing how quickly the space between them heated up, and then the space under the quilt, warmed by their bodies. Soon, Jian’s feet on Emmett skin weren’t even cold, and the lack of that sensation gave rise to another: Jian was in bed with him, he was naked, and the slender young man was wearing nothing but a small, thin pair of cotton boxer shorts. Emmett wished he’d picked another position to lie in, because even flaccid his cock was lying in the perfect cleft of Jian’s arse. The boy had to be able to feel it. Just as Emmett was about to shift his hips away, his penis rousing as he lay there, Jian’s fingers gripped once more into his hip.

“Stay.” The word was a command, and Emmett felt that it would be completely impossible to move away from the boy without tearing away some unknown and intrinsic part of himself. It was frightening and strange to have his free-will leashed by Jian’s voice. Within the space of the next breath, as Emmett battled with his lack of self-control, Jian seemed to realise what he had done, and the tone changed as he uttered: “Please?”

Everything in Emmett’s mind went gold as he relaxed. The grip around his awareness was gone as quickly as it had come, and he smiled against the boy’s silky hair. Instead of moving away from Jian’s warm supple body, he simply shifted his hips, readjusting the angle of his spine before holding the not-tiger tighter against his chest.

“It took you two weeks to decide that the sofa was uncomfortable?” he asked wryly.

“Mm-huh, it’s been hell on my back.”

“Sure it has,” Emmett sighed, nuzzling automatically into the back of Jian’s silky hair. “Is it going to be like this every night?”

Jian purred happily in his arms.

“Probably.”

Emmett reflected on his incredibly weak protest, and wondered if allowing Jian to curl up in his bed violated the boundaries of where their friendship used to be. Considering his naked state, he was sure it probably did, but Emmett was equally sure that, come the bright morning, things between them would be just as they had been the morning after the attack-by-moose. It had been a soft and delightful place to wake up into, and Emmett was looking forwards to having it back. Just as he was drifting into sleep, his sensitive hearing picked up again upon the gentle tune Jian sang, winding its way into his brain and lighting parts of his mind on fire.

“Sing for me?”

The little tiger had a light, almost delicate tenor voice, which sat well with his lithe shape and less well with his fierce feline snarl. Once he had sung the song all the way through, the pads of his strong fingers tracing out sinuous curves on Emmett’s forearm in order to keep the time of his rhythm, he switched to speaking very gently in English, translating the words to the song which Emmett had recognised without knowing it.

“On an island in the sea,

There my lord he waits for me,

In his strong arms I shall lay,

Whilst jasmine blossoms about us play.

“Oh deep north wind blow strong and true,

Let my love be carried to,

The great lord who waits unknown,

Shining golden on his throne.

“Often do I think of him,

Beautiful creature wrapped in sin,

All the love that I have felt,

For my lord wrapped in his pelt.”

Emmett stirred himself just enough to hear the end of the song, for Jian’s soft lullaby voice had allowed him to drift back towards the edge of his unconsciousness. He made a happy noise against the back of Jian’s neck.

“You like it?”

“Mmmm…”

“It’s The Woman Who Fell in Love with the Tiger.”

“Mmm…” Emmett sighed. As he drifted asleep, he found his imagination running away without him, thinking of a big white bear and a strong, beautiful orange and black tiger, on a little island beach, watching the waves crash over the sand. It was a good dream.