Dark. Hurt. Help!
He’d stopped falling. That was something, at least. Jack was almost sideways in the narrowing gap between the walls of ice. His heart pounded painfully, adrenaline roaring through him like white water. He gasped for air.
I’m in my grave.
Panic tightened his lungs, and he cried out pitifully into the silence. No, no, no! Not like this! He had to focus. Squeezing his eyes shut, which was pointless in the darkness, he concentrated on breathing as deeply as he could. The stars in his vision faded, and he opened his eyes again. The cold air burned his throat, but he took it in steadily.
Okay. Stop. Assess.
His right shoulder was jammed painfully into one side, his scars screaming as if his flesh was ripped open again even though he knew it wasn’t. When he tentatively wiggled his right leg, it was hanging into the void. His left arm was free, but his left leg was bent at a bad angle. His knee throbbed, but at least it had stopped him from falling farther. If both of his legs had gone in, he’d be suffocating like Kin’s brother.
Panic surged, but subsided as he remembered Kin was up there. He knew without a shred of doubt that Kin would get him out. But it was so cold, and if he fell any farther…
“Jack!”
Relief flooded him at the sound of Kin’s voice. Gingerly, he tilted his head back, blinking into the beam of a flashlight. He couldn’t tell how far up Kin was, and prayed he hadn’t fallen too deep.
“Don’t move. I’ve got you.”
But when the light disappeared and he saw the outline of Kin in the moonlight, Jack realized the ground was at least twenty feet up.
“Are you hurt?” Kin called down.
“No. Not really.” His voice sounded too loud.
Did I hit my head? He lifted his left hand to prod at his skull, but didn’t feel any bumps through the layers of his mitts and hat. Pressing his lips together, he shifted to relieve the pressure on his bent leg and try to get it at a better angle—
As his yelp reverberated, he slid another few inches. Blood rushed in his ears, and his knee jammed into a worse spot. His muscles and tendons screamed, but he stayed motionless.
“Jack!”
“I’m okay.” His throat felt as though he’d swallowed sand.
“I’ve got you. Okay? Don’t move. I’m setting the anchor for the rope.”
Trapped in the narrow chasm, Jack’s mind spun back over how he’d managed to land here. The German. He’d heard the cries and started running, certain the missing woman was close at hand. He’d registered Kin’s shouts just as the snow had given way, revealing the rift in the glacier as he plummeted into it helplessly.
“She’s close. You should look for her first.” There was no reply—only the echoes of Kin’s harsh breathing. “Kin?”
“I heard you,” he called. “She could be miles away. You’re right here. I’m getting you out.”
“No, I heard her. It was clear as day. She’s close,” Jack shouted.
“You can’t always believe your ears up here. Your eyes either. The Arctic plays tricks. I’ve heard men talking a mile away, their voices carrying right across the land as if they were next to me. That’s why we don’t run off half cocked.”
Really shit the bed on this one. “Goddamn,” he murmured.
Closing his eyes again, Jack breathed in and out. The pain in his right shoulder warred with his left knee, and even in his mitts and boots, his fingers and toes were starting to go numb. It was like going into a cold basement, the temperature even lower here than at the frigid surface. With slow, careful movements, he tugged his neck warmer up over as much of his face as he could. His teeth were chattering.
Think of somewhere warm.
Of course the first damn place that filled his mind, expanding into every corner, was Afghanistan. That day replayed in his mind like a DVD he couldn’t pause or fast forward. All he could do was rewind and watch it over and over again.
He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, wishing he could spit out the constant grit on his tongue. Even in the G-Wagon with the windows rolled up and AC blasting, sweat dripped into his eyes from under his helmet. In the driver’s seat beside him, Corporal Gagnon nattered on about his girlfriend back in Montreal.
“So then she says we’ve grown apart. Va chier! I thought she was the one. Said she’d wait while I was over here.” He snorted. “Didn’t even make it a year. You know—”
In the sudden silence, Jack asked, “Know what?” He glanced at Gagnon, who sat up straighter, peering intently through the windshield.
Jack tensed. “What is it?”
From the backseat, Grant said, “Is that a kid?”
Gagnon took his foot off the gas, and they all leaned forward. They were at the head of the convoy, and Jack radioed for the others to hang back. He didn’t need to pull out his binoculars to know that it was indeed a kid on the road, but he got a closer look anyway. Little girl. Weeping. He scanned the area for any sign of movement. Nothing.
“Give us fifty feet.”
Gagnon stopped the G-Wagon as ordered. The girl just stood in the middle of the empty road, sobbing. The black tarmac had to be burning her bare feet, but maybe she was used to it. Jack mentally flicked through their options. They could drive around her, but wasn’t the whole point of being there to help little Afghani girls?
Private Sagemiller was in the back next to Grant, and it was on the tip of Jack’s tongue to order Sagemiller out to see what was wrong with the kid. But he snapped his jaw shut. Even thought he and Grant were still on the downlow, he couldn’t show any favoritism. “McKenzie. Check it out.”
Under his breath, Grant muttered, “Now I’m a terp?” as he opened the vehicle door.
“Just check it out.” Jack cringed at the blast of hot air, irritation bubbling up. No matter what he and Grant were to each other in their free time—and just what they were was up for debate—he was the commanding officer.
Sagemiller cleared his throat. “Terp, sir?”
The kid was a total cornflake, and asked questions every five minutes. Jack took a deep breath and made sure he didn’t let his frustration with Grant show. It wasn’t Sagemiller’s fault. “Civilian interpreter. We don’t have one with us today.” The radio crackled with a query from one of the other G-Wagons, and Jack picked it up. “Stand by to stand by.”
He watched Grant slowly approach the girl, who looked to be about eight or nine. Raising the binoculars, Jack did another sweep of the area. There was nothing. But a growing sense of dread was building in him, a buzz growing louder. “Something’s not right.” He opened the door and hopped out. “McKenzie! Fall back!”
But Grant kept going, within ten feet of the child now.
“McKenzie! I said fall back!”
Even at a distance, he could spot the anger in Grant’s rigid shoulders. Instead of following orders, Grant took another step toward the girl. Swearing under his breath, Jack broke into a jog along the cracked road. Fuck, he should have known better than to ever get involved with another soldier, let alone his lieutenant. Grant was pissed about that morning, and now he was letting it affect the job. That was it. Jack was ending it as soon as they got back to base.
“McKenzie, don’t get any closer!”
“Captain!” It was Gagnon’s voice.
Jack stopped and turned back.
Then he was flying, and the air was fire.
“Jack? Answer me!”
Blinking, he peered up. Kin’s face was in shadow, backlit by the moon. “Yes. I’m here.” His teeth weren’t chattering anymore, but he had a feeling that was a bad sign.
“I’m lowering the harness. You’ve got to get it over your head and under your arms.”
Okay.
“Jack!”
He realized he hadn’t spoken aloud. “Okay.” He was feeling numb all over, the pain in his twisted knee and shoulder fading, the phantom cries of his scars silent once more.
“It’s there. Can you see it?” The flashlight illuminated the crevasse.
“Yeah.”
The rope was blue and thick, and he reached through the loop with his left hand. Getting the harness over his head wasn’t too hard. But now he had to get it under his right arm as well without falling deeper.
“That’s it. You’re doing great.”
The increased pressure on Jack’s left knee made his eyes water, and he tried to reach up and grip the rope with his left hand for enough leverage to free his right shoulder from the ice wall. But his fingers didn’t want to obey. He shoved, but it was no good. He was opening his mouth to say that he couldn’t do it when his left leg gave way, and he was falling again.
The rope jerked him to a stop, and he gasped, adrenaline bursting through the numbness. The walls of ice touched his waist on both sides, and the rope dug into the right side of his neck. It was unbearably tight under his left arm, and he fought to keep his arm down. If he raised it, the harness would come free and he’d be wedged. It already hurt to breathe.
“I’ve got you.”
Jack listened to Kin’s voice, imagining it was Kin’s arms around him instead of the harness.
“Just raise your right arm and squeeze it under the harness. You can do it.”
The throbbing of his shoulder matched the thumping of his heart as Jack did as he was told. Kin’s got me. He won’t let me fall.
“There. Now just stay as still as you can.”
The only sounds were the creak of the rope and Jack’s stuttered breath loud in his own ears. Inch by inch, Kin hoisted Jack toward the surface. Slowly, slowly, the moonlight got closer. Jack looked down, and there was only a black void.
The edge of the crevasse dug into Jack’s back as he was hauled over the side, but the relief blocked out any pain. He blinked at the stars, wanting to tell Kin how grateful he was, but unable to do more than groan.
Panting, Kin dragged him farther, not stopping until they were back by the snowmobile. Jack tried to say that he was fine, but the words seemed frozen on his tongue. He closed his eyes, listening to Kin bustle around. Kin spoke in Inuktitut, evidently to someone on the sat phone, so Jack didn’t try to answer. Then there was wonderful warmth on his face, and he blinked.
Kin was there, his breath puffing out over Jack’s cheeks. Then he was dragging Jack again, this time into the tent, which he’d somehow put up already. It occurred to Jack that time was passing strangely, and maybe he’d hit his head after all. What he really wanted most of all was to sleep…
“Jack!” Kin’s voice was too loud.
He tried to tell him that as Kin pulled off Jack’s clothes. It was too cold, but then Kin was naked as well, and they were in the double sleeping bag, and Jack’s skin prickled where Kin rubbed him. The pain in his knee and shoulder returned with a vengeance as he warmed up, Kin’s breath and flesh like a furnace in their sleeping bag. The haze in his mind began to dissipate, and Jack focused on Kin above him, breathing heavily as he methodically rubbed Jack’s body from top to bottom, going over each finger and toe.
“Guess you got to play Strip Jack Naked after all.”
Kin’s pale gaze shot up to meet Jack’s. After a moment, his shoulders relaxed, and he smiled. “I suppose I did.”
“Sorry. I thought… Just ran without thinking.”
For a few moments, Kin ran his finger over the planes of Jack’s face, examining him with a serious expression. He pressed his nose and upper lip to Jack’s cheek and inhaled deeply.
Jack could feel the tickle of stubble above Kin’s lip, and he held his breath. Was it possible that at the beginning of the week they’d never even met? Now he never wanted to let go. Jack clung to Kin, swallowing thickly.
“Your instinct is to help,” Kin murmured. “That’s not a bad thing.”
“The German—we should…” Jack tried to push himself up with his left hand.
“They found her. Frostbitten, but she’ll be fine. She had good equipment and burrowed in for the night. How do you feel? Are you injured?” Kin smoothed his hand gently over Jack’s arm.
“Wrenched my knee and shoulder. They don’t feel broken. Some ice should do the trick.” He laughed. “On second thought, maybe some ibuprofen.”
With a smile, Kin kissed him softly. “In a little while we’ll head back to Arctic Bay. Get the doc to check you out in the morning. I want to make sure you get warm enough first.”
Jack urged Kin fully on top of him, spreading his legs. His knee and shoulder hurt, but it was worth it. “I think if you kiss me, it’ll help.”
Caressing Jack’s hair, Kin smiled. “You think so, Nini?”
He nodded, feeling ridiculous pleasure at the nickname.
Kin pressed their lips together, kissing him with a gentleness that made Jack ache in a brand new way.
Jack’s stomach tightened at the quiet knock on the door, and he bounded off the bed, sending a few of the report pages he had spread across the duvet fluttering to the floor. He ignored the flare of pain as his knee protested, and with a deep breath, he straightened his T-shirt and brushed off his green field uniform trousers. There was a little hole in the big toe of his left sock, but he didn’t have time to put on his boots.
Then he wiped the foolish grin off his face, hoping it wouldn’t be Susan from the front desk checking on him again. Not that he didn’t appreciate her concern, but there was only one person he wanted to see. He cleared his throat. “Coming.” He opened the door, and his heart leapt.
Kin wore his Ranger uniform without a coat. Beneath the brim of his red baseball cap, his pale eyes were intent. They stared at each other for a few heartbeats. There had been so many things Jack wanted to say, but now that Kin was actually in front of him, the words evaporated. Jack remembered to let him inside, and Kin stood by the closed door with his hands clasped behind him. They stared at each other again.
In the tent it had all been so easy—gentle kisses and touches as Jack had warmed up again. Just being close to Kin had felt better than he’d imagined possible. But now back in what passed for the real world, it was like a force field had suddenly activated between them.
“How do you feel?” Kin asked.
“Fine. Sore, but it’s nothing. Strained my knee and shoulder, and there are a few bumps and bruises. I thought—” Jack stopped himself, but what the hell. “I thought you might come back to visit this afternoon. After you finished up with the Germans and all that.”
Kin’s expression brightened. “Did you want me to come back? I didn’t think it would be appropriate now that…well, now. Here.”
This is your out. “It isn’t. You’re right. It’s entirely inappropriate.”
Nostrils flaring, Kin jerked his head in a nod and cleared his throat. “Right. So, we should set a time for Nanisivik. Donald’s lending me his truck. We can drive there whenever you want. I guess your flight’s tomorrow morning, right? So we should go tonight. If you still want to.”
“I want to.”
“Okay.” Kin’s gaze was locked on the thin brown carpet.
“I wanted you to come back. I still want you. I don’t care what’s appropriate. I should, but I don’t. I—”
His words were cut off as Kin closed the distance between them in a blink, kissing him soundly. He tossed his cap to the floor and held Jack’s face in his hands, and smiled against his mouth. “I was afraid you’d say no. And you needed your rest.”
“All rested now,” Jack muttered. “I’ll live. Thanks to you.”
“You almost…” Kin shook his head, looking down. He dropped his hands to his sides.
“But I didn’t. You saved me.” When Kin didn’t meet his gaze, Jack inched closer. “Kin?”
Kin’s voice was barely a whisper. “I couldn’t save my brother. I was so afraid I wouldn’t save you either. That I’d be there this time, but I’d have to watch you die. That I’d fail again.”
“Hey, look at me. You didn’t fail either of us.” Jack caressed Kin’s cheek, kissing him gently.
“I heard his voice out there. I know that sounds crazy. But I felt like he was there, helping me tie the knots in the rope. Giving me the strength to pull you up. When I think of him now, it’s…not so hollow. It doesn’t make any sense, but…”
“Makes perfect sense.” Jack kissed him again. “I knew you’d save me. I never doubted it, not for a second.”
Smiling softly, Kin took hold of Jack’s hands. “Really?”
“Really.”
They pressed their foreheads together, just breathing for a minute, leaning into each other, fingers entwined.
“Now come here. If we’re going to break the rules, might as well go big.” Jack tugged Kin toward the spare bed. He couldn’t hide his wince as he fell back on the mattress and his shoulder twinged.
Still on his feet, Kin immediately pulled back, his brow furrowed. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
“Yes.” Jack sat on the edge of the bed, taking Kin’s hands again and pulling. “I survived an IED. I can handle a fall.”
But Kin resisted, stroking Jack’s hands with his thumbs. “Jack…”
He recognized the familiar pity in Kin’s eyes, and shot to his feet despite the flare of pain, shoving away from the bed. “It’s fine. Forget it. If you don’t want to, I have work to do.” He stood by the bed closest to the bathroom and began rifling through the papers strewn there. The tightness in his chest was familiar as well. He tensed as Kin’s breath ghosted across the back of his neck, and his hands rested on Jack’s shoulders.
At first, Kin didn’t say anything, and Jack breathed shallowly through parted lips. Kin nuzzled against Jack’s head as he lightly stroked down Jack’s arms, his callused hands leaving warmth in their wake. Jack’s skin tingled, and he leaned back into Kin, a sigh escaping as Kin stole his hands under Jack’s T-shirt.
His fingertips skimmed over Jack’s belly and chest, barely touching his nipples. Jack’s excitement grew with each gentle, teasing sweep, and he closed his eyes. He wouldn’t be able to stand much longer, all the tension draining away as his dick swelled. He wanted to flop back on the bed and spread his legs, offering anything Kin wanted of him.
Then his breath stuttered and his eyes opened. Kin’s hands were on his back under the cotton, touching the scars. Jack’s body vibrated, but no longer with desire. “Don’t.” His brain said to pull away, but he couldn’t seem to move.
“It’s all right,” Kin whispered, kissing the side of Jack’s neck. “Can I?” He slid his palms down Jack’s sides to the hem of the T-shirt.
Breath coming fast now, Jack’s pulse raced. He’d only met the man days ago, but somehow he trusted that Kin wouldn’t hurt him. He nodded. He didn’t want Kin to see how ugly he was, but somehow part of him did. For the first time since that day in the long desert valley, he wanted to be seen.
Kin lifted the hem, and Jack raised his arms. As he lowered them, his heart thumped. Closing his eyes, he waited for the shocked intake of breath from Kin. He waited for the rejection, and the judgment, because it was his fault. Grant was dead and Jack was alive, but he was still cut to the quick. One of the pieces of shrapnel had gone right to the bone, shredding his flesh like paper. Shredding everything he was in the process.
As he felt a puff of Kin’s breath, and then warm lips against the top of his spine, Jack shuddered and made a high-pitched sound that could only be called a whimper. Jack knew what Kin was seeing—the raised bumps of ripped flesh and burned skin that would never heal properly, snaking down from his neck and across his right shoulder blade all the way down below his waistband.
His ears buzzed like the droning of bees, and his nostrils were singed with acrid smoke. There were ashes and sand in his mouth, and he was choking on it. The pain was red hot, and this was it—he was going to die. Fuck, he was dying, and it hurt so much that it should be a relief, but he didn’t want to die, and he screamed, but there was only buzzing. Then Sagemiller was there, his lips moving, but no sound coming out. He was dragging Jack across the burning tarmac, and Jesus, where was Grant?
He gasped, and Kin wrapped his arms around him, his lips a whisper across Jack’s neck and shoulder.
“I’ve got you.”
Tears pricked at his eyes, and Jack took a deep breath as he sagged back against Kin. “Please. I need…I just…” What? What did he need? He wasn’t sure.
But Kin somehow seemed to understand, and he guided Jack to the empty bed, stripping off the rest of Jack’s clothes and sitting him on the side and urging him onto his back, keeping his hips by the edge.
Naked but for the tensor bandage around his sore knee, Jack parted his legs, and Kin kneeled between them. Jack propped himself on his elbows and watched, shivering as Kin ran his palms along Jack’s inner thighs, his lips parted and eyes bright.
He protested when Kin moved away, but Kin was only propping pillows behind Jack so he could watch without straining. Jack settled back with a sigh as Kin kneeled between his thighs again. It was a glorious sight to see.
Jack’s cock was half hard, curving to his belly. With a small smile, Kin kissed the tip of it, and then explored the thatch of Jack’s pubic hair, barely touching him, but sending shocks of pleasure across his skin. The pink-burgundy duvet was cheap but soft, and Jack squirmed on it, lifting his hips with a groan.
But Kin seemed determined to torture him, and what exquisite torment it was—every bit as good as he’d imagined in that night in the tent when Kin sucked his cold fingers. Kin’s tongue was rough and wet along the smooth skin of Jack’s inner thighs and belly, and Jack was quivering by the time Kin lapped at his balls and his hole, pressing his legs back carefully, clearly mindful of Jack’s injuries.
As the pleasure built, Jack didn’t feel any pain, and there was something glorious about being splayed so wantonly with Kin kneeling before him still fully dressed in his uniform. Jack had never spread himself open for Grant like this. It had always been hurried, and Jack had never let Grant fuck him. But now he wished Kin would, even if it would be too much for Jack’s shoulder and knee.
Kin had seen his scars—kissed them even—and somehow he still wanted him. Jack felt as though something hard that had been lodged in his chest had gone soft and drained away. He reached a hand for Kin’s thick, dark hair, caressing his head as Kin got him harder and harder without touching his cock.
When he finally took Jack in his mouth, sucking him almost to the root with a sure movement, Jack arched his back, his cry echoing through the room.
Kin’s hand clapped over Jack’s mouth, and he pulled off. “Shh. Thin walls.”
Then the hot suction of his mouth enveloped Jack again, and Jack moaned loudly, muffled by Kin’s palm. He thrust his hips up as need built in him, thick and powerful.
Having Kin’s hand over his mouth somehow made it even better, and he gripped Kin’s wrist, groaning and closing his eyes to the pink-beige ceiling. He was pinned, Kin sucking him fiercely, and Jack had never felt so free.
He practically levitated off the bed when he came hard. With each hot pulse, the intensity of his release grew, and he gasped against Kin’s hand, shaking as Kin milked him, swallowing repeatedly.
When Kin pulled off, he licked his lips, catching the semen dripping down his chin. He met Jack’s gaze and smiled, lifting his hand from Jack’s mouth. He drew circles on Jack’s thighs.
“Sorry. It’s just that if someone heard us…”
Jack pushed himself up, shaking his head. “No, I…” He returned Kin’s smile. “I liked it. I liked it like that.”
“Yeah?” Kin smiled wickedly. “Good to know.” Running a hand through his hair, Kin got to his feet. “I guess we should…”
“Get you off? Yes, we should.” Jack reached for Kin’s uniform pants and tugged them down his hips, along with his briefs. Kin was hard and leaking, and Jack didn’t have it in him to tease, instead wasting no time in sucking him.
Kin wove his fingers into Jack’s hair, murmuring something in Inuktitut. Jack didn’t know the words, but he understood all the same.