Kin dragged his tongue over Jack’s stomach and chest, savoring the musky flavor as he licked up the semen. There was no cloth or anything that would do the job in reach, and it had been so long since he’d tasted the salty tang of sex. Jack was still shuddering with aftershocks as Kin lazily stroked him. He expected to wake up any moment, but it seemed that no—this was real.
He and Captain Jack Turner were having sex.
His cock ached, and he rubbed against Jack’s hip as he licked his fingers clean where a few drops had dripped down. Jack’s puff of breath tickled his head, and Kin glanced up to find Jack watching him with dark eyes and lips parted.
“You need…you…”
Kin swirled his tongue around Jack’s index finger slowly. “What?” he teased, smiling at Jack’s lack of coherency.
“You need to come.” Jack tugged on Kin’s shoulders.
At this, he could only nod, because yes. He moved back up to kiss Jack deeply, their tongues winding together as Kin rubbed against him. He expected Jack to jerk him off, but Jack was still urging him upward.
“In my mouth.” It was a breathy command.
As his balls tightened, Kin was afraid he wouldn’t last long enough to get there. The thought of Jack sucking his dick—and hearing him say the words—made his body hum and even more of his blood rush south. He was all desperation and need, his movements awkward as he clambered up to feed Jack his cock.
The sleeping bag slipped down his shoulders as he straddled Jack’s head with his knees, but he barely felt the change in temperature. Jack was eager for it, opening his mouth wide as Kin surged between his lips. The wet heat that enveloped him had him crying out, and he braced himself on one hand over Jack’s head, the other tangling in Jack’s hair as he fucked his mouth.
For years he’d been on his own, and he’d actually forgotten how good it could be to have another man’s mouth on him. Kin’s grunts filled the tent, along with the wet slurps as Jack sucked him deeply, opening so beautifully, his thin lips stretched and saliva dripping down his chin.
Kin made sure not to choke him, only going so deep before drawing back and pushing in again. Jack’s short nails raked over Kin’s thighs and hips, his nostrils flaring. Electricity raced through Kin, the juxtaposition of hot around his cock and cold on his bare skin heightening the sensations and making it all seem more real. More intense. It felt so damn good, and he wanted to stay here forever.
But it wasn’t long before he tensed, his hips stuttering. “I’m going to…”
Jack didn’t push him away, and he swallowed every burst as pleasure burned through Kin, spreading from his cock and balls to the tips of his fingers and toes. Gasping, he spent himself until he was soft. He slipped out of Jack’s mouth and squirmed back down, pulling the sleeping bag back over them tightly.
He sprawled half across Jack with their legs tangled. Jack’s mouth was shiny with spit, his lips red and debauched. Kin ran his thumb over Jack’s bottom lip and kissed him gently, tasting himself there.
Jack’s short hair stuck up, and Kin murmured, “Nini,” as he smoothed it down. In answer to Jack’s knit brows, he added, “Porcupine.” It seemed fitting in more ways than one.
Smiling, Jack rubbed their noses together. “That’s the only Inuktitut I know. Eskimo kiss. Although I know I shouldn’t use that word. Inuit kiss?”
Kin felt loose and wonderfully spent, warm in their little world of sleeping bags and furs. “Kunik, it’s called. It’s not what Hollywood thinks it is—rubbing noses together.”
“Oh? What is it?”
Pressing his nose and upper lip to Jack’s cheek, Kin inhaled deeply. “It’s a way to remember a loved one,” he murmured. “Breathe them in and know them again. Parents and children. Lovers.” He leaned back and propped his head on his hand, rolling onto his hip so he wasn’t too heavy on Jack. He ran his foot up and down Jack’s shin. “It’s not a sexual thing.”
His breath shuddering, Jack shook his head. “Could’ve fooled me.” He traced his fingers over Kin’s side. “So, I assume you’re gay or bi. Unless this is an Arctic thing. Catch your kisses where you can?”
Kin laughed. “No. I mean yes—I’m gay. You?”
“Yep. Came out when I graduated high school.”
Kin couldn’t help but be a little jealous at that freedom. “What did your family say?”
“There was an adjustment period, but they accepted it. What’s it like up here being gay?”
Painful. It was the first thing that popped into Kin’s head, quickly followed by lonely. But he shrugged. “It is what it is.”
Jack ran his finger over Kin’s cheekbone. “What does that mean?”
He sighed. “I don’t know. It’s not really accepted here. It’s more controversial than it is down south.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“The influence of the Christian missionaries is a big part of it. But it’s our own tradition as well. They raised the rainbow flag at Iqaluit city hall during the Olympics in Russia, and some folks put up a stink about how it’s not Inuit custom to be gay. There’s not word for it in Inuktitut.”
Jack frowned. “Which doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”
“No. It had to happen. Some scholars say it did and wasn’t an issue. Men out hunting, women staying behind together. But…” Kin swallowed hard. “To not even have the language to express it makes it feel shameful. The idea of people living together as a couple and being out—that’s a southern notion. Our traditions, our history—it’s about survival, and having children is part of that. In the Arctic, survival is what matters.”
“But obviously you’re not the first gay Inuit.”
“It’s Inuk when it’s singular.” He winced. “Sorry. It’s the teacher in me.”
“No, correct me on stuff like that when I’m wrong. It happens once in a blue moon. Me being wrong, I mean.” Jack’s eyes crinkled.
“A rare occurrence, I’m sure,” Kin teased. “And no, I’m obviously not the first or only. Support is growing, but it’s a slow process.”
“Are you out in Arctic Bay?”
The thought made his heart skip. “No. My mother’s the only one who knows. My grandfather and stepfather…they wouldn’t like it.”
Jack frowned. “That must be difficult. What does she say?”
The memory of her glistening eyes and tight press of lips was etched in Kin’s mind like one of the soapstone tchotchkes she carved for tourists. The way she’d holed up with her bible as if there was a solution there. “Nothing. I’m her only child now, so I suppose there’s not much she can say. I know she wants me to be happy, and she worries about me. Worries I’ll lose my job if people found out. Lose my role in the Rangers.”
“CF doesn’t have a problem with it. I serve openly.”
“I know. But Rangers are community groups. I was elected sergeant, and I’d have to step down if they knew. No one would respect me. Especially the older men and women.”
“You don’t know that, though. People can surprise you.”
“I do know it,” Kin insisted, tensing. “I know this place. You don’t.”
Jack stopped stroking Kin’s chest. “I’m sorry. You’re right.”
Exhaling a long breath, Kin shook his head. “Believe me, I’ve thought a lot about it. It’s best for me if I keep it to myself.”
“Okay.” Jack caressed him again. “So why stay? What’s holding you here? Why did you return after you left?”
Turning onto his back, Kin stared at the ceiling of the tent, which wavered in the wind. He should turn the stove back on, but he was so content with Jack pressed against him in their nest that he didn’t want to move. What’s holding me here? It was a question he’d been trying to answer for years now.
“When my brother died, I’d just finished teacher’s college. I came back to be with my family, and I got a job at the school on a short-term contract. One of the teachers had taken an extended sick leave. But she never came back, and somehow I just…stayed.” He could feel Jack’s intent gaze on him, but he didn’t meet it.
“But why?”
“I can’t explain it. There’s something about the land that calls to me. Sings in my blood and fills my heart with every beat.” He closed his eyes. “Despite all the reasons I should go, that’s why I stay.” He met Jack’s gaze. “Cheesy and stupid, I know.”
But Jack didn’t smile. “No. That’s what home should be.” He burrowed closer, resting his head on Kin’s chest.
The warmth blooming through Kin wasn’t only from their shared body heat. But when he stroked down Jack’s back, his fingers bumped over raised, damaged skin. Jack tensed, inhaling sharply.
Before Jack could pull away, Kin wrapped his arms around him. He couldn’t see the scars in their cocoon, and he didn’t touch them again. He didn’t ask either, for that was a question for another day. As he played with the points of Jack’s hair, Jack eventually breathed evenly again.
Kin was dozing off when Jack’s voice rumbled against him, his breath hot on Kin’s chest.
“What about dating? How do you handle that up here?”
“I don’t. I had a few boyfriends in Edmonton. Nothing serious. But here, there’s no one for me.”
“Isn’t it lonely? Not that I’ve done any dating since I’ve been back. But still.”
“I don’t mind.” Lie. “I have plenty to keep me busy.” Truth. “There’s more to life.” Undetermined.
Jack kissed Kin’s neck, his hand skimming down over Kin’s belly. “Yes, but sometimes it’s…nice, isn’t it?” He sucked on the tender skin by Kin’s collarbone. “To feel this.”
Kin pulled Jack on top of him. “Yes,” he murmured, before licking into Jack’s mouth. They both moaned softly as they kissed and moved against each other, finding an easy rhythm to the music of the keening wind.
He hoped the snow would fall for some time yet.
“I can see the world again,” Jack called from the door of the tent. “Of course the sun is already setting.” He scooted back in, zipping the doors before huddling in front of the stove. “I guess we should just stay here for another night, huh?”
After all night and most of the day in the tent, Kin itched to get outside and move. “It’s tatkresiwok tonight,” he said, adding, “Full moon. It’ll rise soon, and if the sky’s clear we can travel to the coast this evening. Camp there.” He caught the flash of disappointment on Jack’s face, and something warm and tender bloomed in him. He zipped up his parka and crawled over.
It felt so easy and right to draw Jack into a deep kiss, and Jack moaned into him, opening his mouth. When they both caught their breath, Kin whispered in his ear, “Don’t worry. We’ll have plenty of time in the tent later tonight.”
Jack shuddered, smiling. “I’ll hold you to that, Sergeant.”
“I have to follow your orders, Captain.” He nipped Jack’s earlobe.
But Jack jerked away, his mouth a thin line. “Don’t say that.”
“I was only kidding.” Kin sat back on his heels, mystified by the sudden shift in Jack’s mood.
Yanking down his toque, Jack sighed. “But I still shouldn’t be doing this. We both know that.”
“It’s only between us. CF never has to know. It’s not as if you used your rank to force me into anything.” Kin pulled on his own hat and gloves, trying to keep the disappointment burning in him from affecting his voice. “But if you want, we can put an end to it right now.”
Keeping his head down, Jack fiddled with the zip on his parka. “I should say yes. But it would be a lie.” He glanced up, his eyes bright, breath coming heavier. “All I want is to feel your body again. Taste your mouth, and your skin, and your cock. I want to stay in this tent and fuck until we run out of food and fuel, and have to leave. That’s what I want.”
Kin swallowed thickly. Why not? Getting back to the coast could wait. He and Jack stared at each other, their breath fogging the air. Kin was getting hard just thinking of all the things they could do. He thought he could fuck and talk with Jack for days and still want more. His voice had gone hoarse. “I could call Donald and tell him we’re staying the night for some reason. He wouldn’t—”
The sat phone’s shrill ring filled the tent, and Kin’s heart thumped. He answered, and Donald spoke as if conjured by some sort of magic.
“One of the German tourists wandered off in Sirmilik. South end. We’re heading out. Pond Inlet patrol too. But you might be closer.”
“What were they doing out there today?”
“Weather cleared, and they apparently insisted. They’re on the peninsula. South of the big valley, and east of the ridge. On the glacier fields. I’ll call back when I have exact coordinates.”
“Got it. On our way.”
Jack was already packing up the last of their gear, all business. “What’s the situation? SAR?”
“Yes.” Kin didn’t tease him about the acronym for search and rescue. They had to move.
He filled him in as they took down the tent, and soon they were back on the snowmobile. The sun was below the horizon, with the moon rising across the tundra as Kin started the engine. His breath caught as Jack wrapped his arms around him. Even through all their layers, Kin imagined he could feel the heat of Jack’s body, the power of his thighs snug against Kin’s hips.
The longing to turn just for a moment to kiss Jack again was a wave he braced against. No—they had a job to do. There would be another time for kissing. With the komatik trailing behind, they started off across the land, and Kin hoped that time would be soon.
It was just after midnight as they reached the area of the park where the German woman had last been seen. The clear sky had fortunately offered plenty of moonlight to guide their way across the tundra. Although they were on a mission, Kin couldn’t help but feel a moment of peace every now and then at the tightness of Jack’s arms around him, and the solid warmth of his body.
He found himself hoping the other Rangers had found the tourist already—certainly for her sake as well. But selfishly so he and Jack could continue their patrol. So they could spend another night in their own world of the tent. He wanted to work Jack into a frenzy and then see the two lines on his forehead smoothed out in peacefulness after he came.
And he wanted to talk with him. He wanted to curl up together for as long as they could and find out everything there was to know. Kin shook his head to himself as he skirted the snowmobile around a hill he knew to be rocky beneath the layer of snow. This wasn’t like him.
“Everything okay?” Jack shouted.
Kin nodded and adjusted his clear goggles. He needed to concentrate on the mission, but after a minute his mind wandered again. In Edmonton, the guys he’d hooked up with had been fun. Until they hadn’t been, and that’s when Kin would go his own way. He’d never gotten too close. What was the point? It wasn’t as if he could bring a lover to Arctic Bay.
Even before Maguyuk’s death had yanked him back to Nunavut, he’d always known deep down that he couldn’t stay away. He’d known that to go home, he’d have to be alone.
Yet with Jack, he found himself wanting to know more. Wanting to burrow inside the way he did a sleeping bag on an Arctic night. He wanted to know the story of the scars on Jack’s body and his soul. He wanted to help them fade, and talk about the stars and see Jack’s face light up like a boy’s when he used the astrocompass. He wanted to find out what else would make Jack’s eyes crinkle that way.
Kin fought the urge to shake his foolish head again. In a couple of days, Jack would be returning to the south, never to return. It was ridiculous to even entertain this…what? Crush? He had a good job and a good life. He’d accepted the fact that romance wouldn’t be a part of that life. Couldn’t be. He needed to put a stop to this dangerous thinking.
He and Captain Jack Turner had fucked, and it had been a good way to pass the time in the whiteout. That was all it was.
The end.
They were nearing the glacier fields where the Germans had been skiing. It was late in the season for tourists to be skiing the park since travel by water would soon be impossible as the freeze up happened, but the Germans had apparently paid a couple of guides from Arctic Bay handsomely to take them to the park by snowmobile.
Kin was just about to stop and check the GPS when a clank echoed from the engine. He cut the power, and he and Jack climbed off into the dry snow. It was about minus twenty, but the wind was calm. He scanned the area, but didn’t detect any movement in the moonlight. Still, he handed Jack the Enfield from the front of the komatik. Bears could have heard their approach and be coming to investigate.
“Do you know why it would make that sound?” Jack asked, pulling off his goggles.
Shaking his head, Kin unhooked the komatik and heaved the snowmobile on its side. “I’m going to take a look just in case. Sometimes chunks of ice can ding the engine.”
“You know how to fix these things?”
With a nod, Kin took off his goggles and squatted in the snow. “Can’t call CAA out here. We all know how to fix engines.”
“School teacher by day. Ranger and ace mechanic by weekend. Not to mention astronomer.”
Kin smiled as he flicked on his flashlight and leaned in to examine the piston. “Something like that. Can you get my toolbox from the front of the komatik? The sled, I mean.”
The snow crunched under Jack’s boots, and a minute later he returned with the tools. Kin pulled off his grizzly mitts, wearing just his cotton work gloves as he took a wrench to one of the bolts. “This is a new snow machine,” he grumbled. “Shouldn’t be acting up already.”
Jack crouched, propping the rifle against the snowmobile. “They don’t build things like they used to, that’s for damn sure. I can’t count how many times our equipment broke down in the desert. All that sand is hell on mechanisms.”
“Maybe I should go back to a dog sled.” Kin ducked his head to get a better look at one of the gears. “It all looks fine. I’ll tighten a few of these bolts just in case.”
“Do you get called out on many SARs?”
Kin couldn’t resist this time. “Did you ever meet an acronym you didn’t like?”
“Nope. It’s the best thing about the military. More acronyms than I dreamed possible.”
“What’s your favorite?” Kin tightened a bolt.
Jack thought about it for a moment. “LBRT.”
“Which is?”
“Little black rubber thingy.”
Laughing, Kin shook his head. “Shut up.”
“I’m serious! We use them to tie down tarps on our vehicles. Hey, did you…?”
Kin’s head was still down. “Hmm?” He fiddled with the machinery.
“Hello!” Jack’s voice was suddenly distant.
With a jolt, Kin was on his feet, but Jack was already twenty feet away. “Jack! Stop!”
“I can hear her! This way, come on!” Jack raced on.
“Goddamn it, stop! Jack!” Kin grabbed his mitts and raced after him. “Get back here!” He clenched his jaw as he ran. Stubborn man. “I said stop right there!”
For a split second, Jack actually did. Then he was gone, swallowed by the land in a single, silent gulp.