Jesus Christ it was cold.
With fingers stiff in his gloves, Jack flicked on his little flashlight under his sleeping bag. It was only zero-four-hundred, but it had been dark for so many hours it felt as though the night would never end. It must have clouded over, since there was no light from the moon making its way through the tent walls. He shuddered to think of what it was like in the winter when the sun barely rose at all.
Carefully, he pointed the flashlight around the tent, aiming it high to avoid waking Kin, who slept peacefully a few feet away. The red of Kin’s toque peeked out from his sleeping bag, and Jack could see his closed eyes and his nose. He was breathing deeply and evenly.
The odds of turning on the stove without waking him were nil, so Jack stayed put, shivering in his sleeping bag. Kin didn’t seem bothered by the cold at all, but Jack’s teeth chattered. He wanted to wrap himself in one of the pelts beneath them, but the idea of moving out of his bag was not appealing.
He should have turned off the flashlight since he was wasting the battery, but he found himself watching Kin sleep. He’d shared tents with dozens of men over the years, but none had intrigued him like Kin Carsen did. Not even Grant. He winced at the familiar sting of guilt twisting in his gut.
His scars flared to life, and he scrabbled at the back of his neck and shoulder, dropping the flashlight with a thud, the beam of light spinning around the tent. It was as if his flesh was burning again, and it prickled unbearably. He yanked off his gloves to scratch properly, squirming in the tight sleeping bag.
“Jack?” Kin murmured.
“I’m fine,” he gritted out. “Go back to sleep.”
Kin’s tone was sharp, all drowsiness vanished. “What is it?”
The light shone in his face, and Jack squeezed his eyes shut and burrowed into his bag. “I said it’s nothing. Leave me the hell alone.” He dug his blunt nails into his skin even though he knew it would pass faster if he left the scars untouched. The doctors said the itching was all in his head, but it was hard to believe when he trembled with hot prickles. At least he didn’t feel as cold.
“I’m only trying to help.”
“Then don’t. I don’t need your help.”
“Well, excuse the fuck out of me. Sir.”
The flashlight snapped off, and when Jack opened his eyes the tent was black again. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He breathed heavily through his nose, forcing himself to stop scratching. “I’m sorry. It’s not you, okay? It’s a hundred percent me. I’m a bag of shit lately.”
There was silence for a long moment. Then, “Is that the official diagnosis?”
Jack barked out a laugh, some of the tension leeching from his body. He felt around for his gloves but couldn’t find them, so he curled his hands against his chest in the sleeping bag. “It should be. Sorry for being a drama queen. You’re more patient than I would be stuck with an FNG.”
“You’ll have to enlighten me.”
“Fucking new guy.”
Kin laughed softly, and Jack wished he could see the little dimples that creased his cheeks. He tried to think of something else he could say to make him laugh. “I wouldn’t blame you if your GAFF was pretty low right now.”
“Okay, I’ll bite.”
“Give a fuck factor.”
Kin laughed again, and despite the cold Jack felt a bloom of warmth in his chest.
“Do you have an army to English dictionary? My kids would love these.”
“No, but someone should write one.”
“Maybe that should be your next assignment.”
“Maybe.”
Jack breathed easily again. There was something nice about talking in the dark in their sleeping bags. Reminded him of when he was a kid staying over at Jimmy Leclerc’s house, talking until all hours of the night on the old shag carpet in the basement. And just like he had with Jimmy, Jack inched closer to Kin, shifting himself as quietly as possible.
He didn’t know why he had that urge, since he was a grown man now and he didn’t have the excuse of being afraid of the dark, or the rumbles and clangs from the Leclercs’ furnace. Outside the tent there was only the steady whisper of wind. But he still felt drawn to Kin, and the low sound of his exhalations.
“What’s it like during the midnight sun? When there’s daylight twenty four hours?”
“It’s…lively. The restaurant at the hotel is open day and night since there’s always someone awake. I try to keep normal hours, but it’s hard. There’s a lot more noise, and people out and about. We pretty much hibernate in the winter and make up for it in the summer.”
“Must be strange. I guess you get used to it.”
“Yeah. It’s just the way it is. Everyone has blackout curtains. But there’s always a party going on somewhere. Once—”
Jack waited a few heartbeats. “Once what?”
“My brother snuck off and went fishing with his buddies in the middle of the night. They ‘borrowed’ a boat, and of course they got caught since there they were in the middle of the bay, clear as day. Even in the winter, there’s always someone watching. Hard to keep secrets in Arctic Bay.”
“Have you tried?”
Kin was silent for a moment. “Everyone has something to hide.”
It was all Jack could do not to ask. But he had his own secrets, and it was best to keep it all locked away, no matter how safe it felt cocooned in the dark with Kin. Anything Jack said tonight could haunt him in the dawn.
“That’s why I like coming out here. There’s only the land, and it keeps all its secrets.”
“How about the polar bears?”
Kin chuckled. “They’re the worst gossips. Never tell a polar bear something you don’t want the whole world to know.”
“I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m shooting the breeze with one.” Jack flexed his fingers, rubbing his bare hands together. “Christ it’s cold. I dropped my gloves.”
Kin’s tone was sharper. “You did?”
Material rustled and Jack expected the flashlight to come on. But his heart skipped a beat as Kin spoke.
“Give me your hands.” Kin’s voice was closer.
Jack’s mouth went dry, and he heard his heartbeat thumping in his ears like when he wore earplugs on planes. He shimmied his arms out of the sleeping bag and fumbled for Kin. When their fingers brushed together, he had to bite back a gasp at the flare of desire in his belly.
Smoothly, Kin took Jack’s hands between his and rubbed. He’d taken off his own gloves, and he massaged Jack’s fingers. God, it felt good. Kin’s hands were slightly callused—more so than Jack would expect from a teacher. Granted he was also a Ranger, but a Saturday soldier didn’t usually get his hands that dirty.
“Why didn’t you say anything? Frostbite can happen really easily out here. You have to be careful. Your fingers are way too cold.”
Jack opened his mouth to give some kind of excuse, but any words were lost in a strangled gurgle when his index finger was enveloped by wet heat. Kin sucked, and his tongue swirled around, rough and slick at the same time. Jack was glad he wasn’t standing, since so much blood rushed to his cock he likely would have gotten lightheaded.
A pop echoed in the tent as Kin released that finger, sounding positively obscene. Jack was grateful for the pitch darkness as he opened his mouth to pant silently.
“Sorry,” Kin murmured. “It’s the best way to warm up fingers. If you get frostbite we’ll have to go back in the morning.” He moved to the next one, sucking it down past the second knuckle.
Jack struggled to keep his voice even as his pulse skyrocketed with every swipe of Kin’s tongue. “It’s fine.”
Jesus, it was one of the most erotic things he’d ever felt. Kin clasped Jack’s left hand as he methodically sucked the fingers on the right, and Jack had to concentrate on not gripping Kin’s palm. He bit his tongue to stifle the moans clawing at his throat. Kin’s hot breath skimmed across Jack’s skin, and his mouth—Christ, his mouth.
What would it feel like on Jack’s cock? At the thought, his hips stuttered, his dick swelling and desperate for friction. The urge to squirm closer and hump Kin’s leg was almost overwhelming. Had he really been cold a minute ago? Now his whole body was alight, rigid with want.
He dug his teeth into his lower lip. Fuck, the things Kin was doing with his tongue. The torture was exquisite, and his fingers tingled hotly. It could be painful warming up too-cold skin, but all Jack could focus on was Kin’s mouth.
Kin moved on to his left hand. Jack’s right fingers were wet, and he wanted to lick them and taste the residue of Kin’s saliva. But Kin kept hold of both hands, murmuring something around his finger. It was for the best, since if Jack got a hand free he wasn’t sure he’d be able to resist diving beneath his layers and jerking himself off, even if Kin heard what he was doing. His cock strained and leaked in his briefs.
Opening his mouth on a silent moan, he imagined Kin’s tongue not only on his cock, but all over his body. Licking across his nipples, and down to his belly. On the insides of his thighs, and over his tight balls. Behind them to his hole.
Jack spread his legs as much as he could in his sleeping bag, as if he could will Kin’s mouth to his body. To feel that tongue everywhere would be heaven. As Kin sucked Jack’s little finger, Jack imagined he was naked with Kin’s face buried in his crotch.
Then the heat was gone, and Kin held Jack’s hands between both of his again, drying them methodically with some kind of soft fabric.
“Better?”
Was it Jack’s imagination, or was Kin a little breathless? He cleared his throat. “Uh-huh.”
For a few moments, the only sound was their heavy breathing and the rub of the towel or scarf or whatever it was against Jack’s fingers. Then Kin spoke again. “We should find your gloves. Where’s the flashlight?”
“I found them,” Jack blurted. His flushed face would give him away in a heartbeat.
“How?”
Jack realized Kin still had his hands. “They were here all along in my pocket. I just realized.” His voice was unnaturally high. He took a deep breath. “Thank you.”
“No problem.”
It wasn’t so much that Kin was holding Jack’s hands now, but that they were holding each other’s across the little space still separating them. What would happen if Jack tugged Kin closer? If he pulled Kin on top of him, and found his mouth in the darkness, and rutted up against him, and—
Kin let go. “We should get more sleep. Sun won’t be up for hours.”
“Right. See you in the morning.”
As he listened to Kin’s ragged breathing, Jack silently searched for his gloves, hoping he could get his shit together by the time the sun rose.
Kin had to stop thinking about Jack’s cock.
He gave himself a mental shake as he drove the snowmobile over a low rise. Jack was pressed up against him, his hands on Kin’s waist. Kin squinted against the glare of the sun, noting the rise and fall of the land and veering gently to the left, keeping them on a southerly course on the outskirts of Sirmilik.
Is he cut or uncut? Kin couldn’t stop imagining how Jack would feel and taste in his mouth, the shaft thick and heavy on his tongue, stretching his lips and filling him. How he’d feel in Kin’s hand, and the sounds Jack would make as he stroked him. Kin’s groan rumbled through his chest.
“Okay?” Jack called over the noise of the engine.
Kin nodded. What had he been thinking, sucking Jack’s fingers like that? Granted, Jack had genuinely been in danger of frostbite, but Kin had felt like a dog in heat ever since. If the slaps wouldn’t have echoed in the tent, he’d have jerked himself off to the fantasy of touching the rest of Jack. Kissing him.
Enough! He had to stop. He was never going to kiss or touch Captain Jack Turner. It wasn’t going to happen. He needed to focus on doing his job and not humiliating himself. Apparently he’d been celibate too long, because he was losing it.
“Can we take a break?” Jack shouted.
Kin slowed at the bottom of a hill in a wide valley. When they came to a stop, Jack climbed off, and Kin felt foolishly bereft without the other man pressed against him. What was the matter with him?
The wind was calm, and with the sun beaming down, Kin’s hair was damp under his toque. They both kept on their polarized goggles to block the glare. “Are you hungry?” he asked Jack.
“I can always eat.”
Kin glanced over at where Jack had gone to piss. His back was turned, and Kin could hear the stream of urine where it hit the snow. He swallowed hard.
“Guess it’s not cold enough to freeze in the air, huh?”
Kin forced a laugh. “No. Has to be about minus forty for that. We’re only at minus fifteen.”
“Balmy,” Jack said.
He listened to Jack zipping up his layers, unable to look away until Jack turned. Kin jerked his head down and picked up the Enfield. “Want to be on predator watch while I make lunch?”
“Sure.” Jack took the rifle.
“We can do some target practice if you want.”
Jack scoffed, but it was good-natured. “Who says I need target practice?”
“It’s different firing an old rifle. Your fancy new weapons do half the work for you.”
“Is that so?” Jack’s lips twitched. “Sounds like a challenge.”
Kin smiled. “You use my rifle and I’ll use yours?”
“Deal. What are we hitting?”
He rooted around in the crate where he kept the garbage. “Peach cans at a hundred paces?”
After setting the cans on a rocky ledge, Kin rejoined Jack, who handed him his C7 assault rifle. It was a little lighter than the Enfield, and Kin examined it, getting used to the feel of it. Meanwhile, Jack took off his goggles and lifted the Enfield to his shoulder.
Kin said, “You’ll want to—”
The shot rang out, missing both cans by approximately a mile. Kin swallowed his laughter and cleared his throat. “There’s probably more kick than you’re used to.”
Jack huffed. “No, I just got distracted because you started talking.”
“Ah, that must have been it.” Kin rolled his tongue in his cheek. He pointed to the targets and made a zipping motion across his mouth. He took off his goggles and held up a hand to block the sun.
With a deep breath, Jack lifted the rifle and squinted down the barrel. He squeezed off another shot, and this one at least pinged off the rocks beneath the cans. He cursed under his breath. “Okay. Apparently I need some pointers after all.”
“Can I speak now?” Kin couldn’t help but smile.
Jack looked at him, his eyes crinkling. “I suppose I’ll allow it.”
“Lie down on your stomach.”
For a moment, Jack’s eyes widened. Then he did what he was told. Kin’s blood rushed as he breathed deeply and got to his knees beside him. “It’s easier to learn this way. You just need to make allowances for the stronger kickback. Really brace the rifle. Right, like that.”
He leaned over Jack, checking the alignment of the rifle sight. Oh, the things he wanted to do…
Kin rocked back to his heels and shot to his feet. “There you go. Try it now.”
Jack squeezed the trigger, and one of the peach cans went flying with a clatter. Grinning, he hopped to his feet. “Okay, now you try with mine.”
“Should I lie down?”
“Uh-huh. Sure.” Jack licked his lips.
Kin flattened on his belly in the dry snow and braced himself on his elbows, pressing the rifle against his shoulder. He made sure the clip was locked in place and looked down the sight. He could sense Jack behind him, and a moment later Jack’s hand pressed against Kin’s lower back.
It was as if Jack’s gloves and Kin’s parka and layers disappeared, and Kin imagined the feel of Jack’s hand against his bare skin. He remembered the taste of Jack’s fingers, and what was wrong with him? He focused on the remaining peach can, blocking out everything else.
As the can flew into the air, Kin smiled. “Just like shooting womp rats.”
Jack laughed and held out a hand to help Kin to his feet. “Imagine having a T-16 out here? Look out, Imperial polar bears.”
“I think an X-wing would be better. Balances speed with fire power.”
“True. Of course an X-wing is basically a better version of a T-16. And for a big ship, the Millennium Falcon had great manoeuvrability. It wouldn’t be bad out here.”
Kin grinned. “Fastest hunk of junk in the galaxy. Come on, let’s eat. Then you can use the astrocompass.” He glanced around. “And we should keep an eye out for bears, of course.”
“Where’s R2-D2 when you need him? We could get him to do a scan for life forms.”
“Maybe we can propose that to CF. I’m sure they’ll fund a robot to help us with our patrols.” Kin opened a bag of seal meat and some leftover bannock.
Jack laughed as he took a piece of bread. “I’ll pull some strings in Ottawa. R2-D2 is definitely an Arctic necessity.”
As they ate their lunch and debated which Star Wars characters would do the best at Arctic survival (with Chewbacca leading the way due to his fur and strength), Kin wondered how on earth he was going to spend another night in a tent with Captain Jack Turner without kissing him.
It was after midnight when Kin stepped outside to piss and scan the area. But the binoculars hung useless around his neck as he stared at the sky. The Aurora Borealis filled him with awe each time he saw it even after all these years. From the horizon to the heavens, the sky was ablaze with green, blue and a hint of pink.
The temperature had dipped to about minus twenty-five, but the wind was still for the moment, as if the spectacle had cast a spell over everything. It was perfectly calm. There was moisture in the air that made him leery—snow might be coming. But for the moment, the only thing that mattered was the wonder filling the sky.
He crouched and poked his head back into the tent. “Jack. Wake up.” He nudged Jack’s foot.
With a gasp, Jack bolted upright, tumbling onto his side in the confines of the sleeping bag that was pulled up to his ears. He struggled to pull his arms free, and his toque slipped over his forehead. “What is it? Bear?”
“No, nothing like that. Come see.”
With his gloves on, Jack fought the zipper on his sleeping bag, and after a moment Kin took off his own gloves and gently knocked Jack’s hands away. The zipper was snagged on the neck of Jack’s thermal shirt, and Kin shifted to let in more of the light from outside.
Jack tugged the shirt up around his neck, his body tense. Kin’s knuckles grazed Jack’s throat, and he felt him swallowing hard. When warm breath ghosted across Kin’s cheek, his heart skipped a beat.
Then the material came free, and he sat back and escaped the tent. After a minute Jack joined him, zipping up his parka and jamming his feet into his boots. Jack’s hat was still askew, and Kin resisted the urge to straighten it.
“Oh my God.” Jack stared up, turning all around with his jaw practically scraping the snow beneath their boots. “Northern lights.”
“You’re lucky—it’s a little early for them. I thought you’d want to see.”
“Absolutely.” Jack grinned, his gaze still locked on the sky. “Thank you.” His eyes crinkled, the fine lines fanning out, and the vivid colors washed over his pale skin. His teeth were white and straight, and his face practically glowed.
Kin’s groin tightened as desire flowed through him like the hot tea they’d drunk earlier. Jack’s expression was soft with childlike awe as he took in the colors soaring above them. Although he knew he should, Kin couldn’t seem to turn away.
“Beautiful,” Jack murmured.
“Yes,” he agreed. As Jack watched the northern lights dance above them, Kin’s gaze stayed six feet off the ground.