Sleeping through

Zahng shades his eyes against the sun reflecting off the ice and bounces the backpack against his back. He readjusts his grip on the sled’s reins. On the sled sits his husband, bundled under his favourite fur-lined blanket. The walk across the frozen lake from the mainland is long, but the ice isn’t thick enough for an ATV.

“I can see the cabin from here!” Zahng turns his head to speak to Jax. “You still awake back there?”

He isn’t surprised when there’s no answer. Just in case, he listens, hoping Jax is not in full Hibernation. Jax spends enough time around him, hot blooded as he is, so therefore mostly immune to the pull of sleeping through winter, that he should still be only lightly asleep.

“Mmblegh,” Jax blinks blearily and yawns. “Yeah, still here. You said…you said the cabin—we’re close.”

“Oh good. You were paying attention. I think first things first: food. You hungry?” Zahng lets Jax lean against him, steadying him as they step onto the gravel lined path.

Further up the hill, nestled between towering evergreen trees, is Zahng’s family cottage, lovingly named the Protrave. It’s a wide wooden box of a building, with a low slanted roof and a massive wrap-around porch.

Zahng shoulders his way into the kitchen, beelining for the fridge. “Catch!” If it weren’t winter on the mainland, Jax would have already had his hands up the second he looked over at the basket of apples by the fridge.

Jax might have tried to snatch the apple out of his hands. He would’ve scolded him. “Zahng!”, a whining, fond call of his name. Just his name. So much meaning packed into a single word when it’s more important that it’s said than understood.

“Oh,” Jax fumbles, catching the apple after it had already hit his chest, “thanks.”

Any other year, Zahng would’ve strolled right up, lifted Jax’s chin—north facing windows refracting sunlight just right to illuminate his husband in the most flattering light with the most interesting shadows—and held the fruit to his lips himself. Handfed him bites of a sandwich because that’s the only thing he will eat sprawled on the floor of their den while thinking, studying, working. He would’ve plastered himself to Jax’s side, Jax’s robust, hyper customized, spec’d to hell laptop burning a hole atop the sheets, watching a foreign movie with Japanese subtitles together.

Any other year, Jax would have questioned why he doesn’t.

It’s a selfish game he’s playing. The rest of their families are already bundled under blankets, tangled together like worms in a bait tub. It goes against their instincts, this biological need, to still be awake weeks into winter.

Since he runs hot, the next few months will be miserable. Lonely and uncomfortable. He hates that his body temperature won’t ever drop low enough to Hibernate. He hates that his husband is always cold, so he feels the urge to Hibernate earlier than most.

“Zahng,” Jax stumbles in his direction. He watches his husband’s brow twisting into a frown when he doesn’t immediately meet him halfway.

It’s not fair, Zahng thinks, hating that the Hibernation doesn’t tug at him, that Jax needs to fight to keep himself awake long enough to get him settled in his family’s rustic cottage on an island that knows only summer. That year after year, Jax forgoes the warmth of his Hibernation bed so Zahng wouldn’t feel lonely being the only one awake for miles around. That it’s easier to forget he can’t Hibernate when he only has to see one person Hibernating.

“I’ll be in the garden,” Zahng declares evenly. “You’ll come see me before you bed down, yeah?”

 He claps Jax on the shoulder as he passes, both of them shuddering at the clash of warm and cold skin. Even through Zahng’s wool sweater and Jax’s favourite blanket— an extremely fluffy, autumn themed thing.

Jax blinks. “Yes, of course, why wouldn’t I…?” But the screen door has already swung shut.

Outside, barefoot, Zahng grounds himself with toes wriggling into the dirt. Inhale one-two-three-four, hold five-six-seven-eight-nine, exhale ten-eleven-twelve-thirteen. The clouds race overhead. He shades his eyes with a hand on his forehead.

He flicks a glance at the frozen lake he can barely see through evergreen trees, and glares. He flickers his hands, spirit paws reaching for the moment Jax draped the same blanket he’s wearing right now in the kitchen over his gaming chair. Fairy lights warm and ethereal. Jax bent down to whisper in his ear, “Dinner’s ready, love”, ignoring how Zahng’s heart imploded, and the chat went wild as his online friends snickered and crowed “Whipped!”

It could have been minutes or months later when Zahng goes back inside. On the dark wood coffee table steams a cup of mint green tea on a coaster made from Zahng’s first and only attempt at engraving. On the matching leather couch, wrapped in Zahng's favourite—a green cooling—blanket, his husband blinks at him.

Immediately Zahng curses, drops to his knees beside the couch, and tears off his blanket.

“What’re you doing? That can’t be comfortable—you’re already cold enough”—

“Saw you take the warm one,” and oh that’s not fair, the look in Jax’s half lidded eyes, “figured you’d be a while. Needed”—yawn—“to see you before.”

The laugh is yanked out of him, strangled and breathy. Jax hums, a question and an echo.

“You figured me out. Yeah, I was testing you. I know I shouldn’t have, I know you wouldn’t abandon me to winter all alone.” He’d written off Jax’s inattention to the Hibernation. “I wanted to test if your…I guess resistance to Hibernation is a me thing or a you thing.”

“Didn’t know if you’d do it. Didn’t know if you knew how.” Jax inches closer, as sweet and soft as a newborn kitten. “’m ‘xactly where I wanna be, though. What’ver you decide. Just so you know.”

His eyes close then, his breath slowing, all tension oozed out of his body. Jax is in Hibernation. For all intents and purposes, he’s in a coma until March, nearly three months from now. Later, he’ll put a reminder in his phone. Later, he’ll hook Jax up to the IV drip, get him settled in a real bed.

Zahng sighs, places a kiss on his forehead. He picks up his tea and sips. “Love you too. Sweet dreams.”

…

Jax opens his eyes and sighs. He’s only a couple miles away from where the rest of his family is Hibernating. Even if he’s alone in the Dreamscape right now, he won’t be for long.

“Loverboy couldn’t do it?” His sister pokes him, scowling.

Before he can defend his husband, Zahng’s sister beats him to the punch: Huh, guess their parents are still abroad. “Hey, it’s been a little over a month! He really thought about it this time. My brother’s stubborn, if there’s a way to get what he wants, you know he’d do anything.”

“Maybe next year?” Zahng’s sister turns to him, smile determined and hopeful. “You told him this time?”

Jax shrugs. “You know Zahng. Stubborn about the things he wants. You know he likes to figure things out by himself. Next year he won’t be so selfless. I trust he’ll make the right decision.”

“Sap.” Both sisters say, one delighted, the other disgusted.

“Married.” Jax corrects, sitting down to wait.