“Watch your footing. The ice is tricky here.”

I brace myself, planting each step with care, letting the studs on my boots bite into the frozen surface with a satisfying crunch.

Rounding the snowcat, I spot Moose’s bulky form kneeling on an insulated mat as he inspects the treads. His down parka gives him the magnitude and presence of the animal he’s nicknamed for. He squints up at me from behind his balaclava, cheeks flushed crimson from the biting chill as he taps the front idler wheel with his gloved hand. 

“See this sag?” he says, his Scottish brogue thickening the words as he points to the slight droop in the track. “If it’s loose like this, the whole drive can slip. You’ll burn more fuel, and the steering starts to get twitchy.”

“So the track has to be perfectly taut?” I lean in closer.

He shakes his head. “Too tight, and it’ll strain the suspension. Too loose, and it’ll derail if you hit a drift wrong.” 

He grabs a tension gauge and hands it to me. “Here, measure the distance.”

I hold it up and frown at the markings. “Uh… twenty-two millimetres?”

“Don’t press too hard on the track.” Moose leans over, showing how to place the gauge just right. “Like that. Good. Looks close to seventeen to me.”

He points to the top rail. “We’ll need to adjust these bolts. Loosen them all slightly and then we’ll go through and tighten them up.” 

My hands shake from the cold as I pick up the wrench. 

“Don’t yank, let the tool do the work. Nice and slow.”

Despite the sub-zero temperatures, and my lack of enthusiasm for saggy tracks, I found myself crouched in the snow beside Moose and working to loosen the stubborn bolts.

I could feel him beside me, his large gloved hand settling briefly on my back as he checked my work.

“Just like that. You feel the tension drop as the track settles?”

I did. “You make it look easy.”

“Experience. You’ll get there, Lucas.” Moose chuckles, tapping my shoulder in encouragement. “Hand me the ratchet. Let’s tighten the rear idler together and we can get out of this damn cold.”

I pass him the ratchet and watch as he gets to work. The steel groans as he confidently turns the bolt, finding the sweet spot. He holds it out to me after the first few turns. “Here.”

The wrench jerks as I begin to tighten, but the resistance quickly gives way as the tensions drops and the tread settles into place.

“Not bad,” Moose says with a satisfied smile.

The validation feels good. Not just because Moose knows this stuff better than anyone, but because I’ve busted my ass to earn my place out here.

I start tossing the scattered tools into the bag while Moose shakes the snow from his mat. Behind him, the sun is beginning to set, casting the flat expanse of snow in pink and purple hues until it became almost indistinguishable from the sky.

The moan of the wind carrying across the ice, pulls my attention the other way as I sling the bag across one shoulder. Glancing over, I notice the dark smudge painted across the horizon, no doubt the coming storm Viv warned us about. 

Moose follows my stare, tugging the balaclava down over his nose, his breath creating a thick cloud in the cold. “Looks like a bad’n,” he mutters.

I’d weathered my fair share of storms at the main base, but the lower elevation and proximity to the coast usually rendered them mild and swift. Now that we’re further inland, with nothing but a layer of steel and thin insulation between us and the elements, it would be a different story.

Moose must read it on my face, because he gives a low chuckle. “Don’t fret, lad. You’ve got me to keep you right.”

I give a tight-lipped grin, as we trudge back toward the outpost. After living in the comfortable expanse of the main base for the last few months, seeing the squat little rectangle on my arrival had come as quite the shock.

We were stationed here for the next six days on an expedition. My first, in fact. With contrasting roles and seniority, me, Moose and Viv made for quite the unlikely trio. They’d met on a research mission several years ago, when Viv was around my age. Since then, she’d not been able to shake him off. Between her forecasting and his knack for keeping every piece of machinery running, they were practically issued as a pair.

Unfortunately, seeing as I’m the most junior of the three, a lot of my time is spent helping out and tackling the mundane tasks neither Moose nor Viv wants to do. Still, my work isn’t without purpose. The samples I collect and the readings I take all go toward building the kind of record that gets you leading your own expedition someday.

The last of the daylight lingered on the red walls, making the outpost seem even more out of place against the vast alabaster expanse. The days were getting shorter now, the sun slipping away earlier with every passing evening. Gripping the railing, I knock the excess snow from my boots, allowing it to sift through the grate steps. 

A wave of heat mixed with the savoury scents of toasted bread and stewed vegetables greets me as I step inside. Viv’s at the stove, sleeves rolled up as she tends to the pan in front of her. She glances back at us over her shoulder as the outside chill disrupts her flow, flicking back a dark strand of hair.

“Still got all your fingers?” She quips, tapping the spoon against the rim of the pan.

I set the toolbox down in the corner with a soft thud. “I think so.” I flex my hands as I remove my gloves, pins and needles prickling as the feeling slowly returns. “It’s hard to tell when I can’t feel them.”

Moose snorts behind me, shrugging off his parka. He hangs it on the hook by the door, then slides his rolled-up mat into its slot beside it. He takes my gloves and deposits them on the heater beside his own.

“Your piddler’s shaping up into a proper beast out there, Viv. Looks like we’re heading for a blindie.” He pulls off his balaclava, revealing his short brown hair, flecked with grey, which is now flattened at the crown. He gives it a quick ruffle, taming some of the unruly tufts.

I stiffen at the word. Blindie. A zero-visibility whiteout so volatile, it would render leaving the outpost an impossibility for hours, if not days. Outposts saw a handful each year, but I hadn’t expected to run straight into one on my first expedition.

I glance between them, trying to read if their theatrics are for my benefit. Seasoned workers thrived on pranking and hazing rookies such as myself, and Moose and Viv had proven to be no exception to this rule. On the long journey here, they’d tried to convince me the outpost had no toilet at all, and anyone who needed to relieve themselves had to do so outside.

Viv doesn’t look up from her cooking. “It’s coming in heavier than expected. If there’s anything that needs doing out there, I’d say you’ve got maybe an hour tops before it really starts coming down.”

Moose shakes his head, voice grave. “We’re all set. Snow cats tip-top and Lucas put the deflection lines down earlier, didn’t you lad?” He fixes me with a stern look.

“Deflection lines?” My stomach lurches.

Moose leans closer, concern sharp on his face. “The deflection lines. To redirect the wind currents. You… put them down, right?”

I swallow hard as heat rises to my cheeks until I clock Viv shaking her head as she portions up the stew. Moose freezes for a heartbeat, then lets a corner of his mouth twitch.

“You—you’re not funny!” I snap, crossing my arms and trying to shove down the relief and indignation in my chest.

He laughs, giving me a friendly slap on the back, before unfolding us both a chair. I begrudgingly take it, lowering myself onto the seat beside him as Viv approaches with the steaming trays. 

She sets Moose’s down in front of him, then, just as I reach for mine, she flicks it away with a sly grin, swooping it up in the air as if a gust of wind has taken it.

“The deflection lines!” she cries, barely keeping a straight face as my stew drifts further out of reach.

“Fuck you guys,” I snap, laughing as I snatch it back.

She laughs and grabs her own tray and plonks down opposite us, rolling her sleeves back down as she settles in. The South Pole was hardly known for fine cuisine and fresh produce, yet I found myself appreciating food here like never before. The heat spread through my chest, thawing me out like a warm hug from the inside.  

Moose digs in, shovelling generous spoonfuls into his mouth with exaggerated noises.

“Your first whiteout, Lucas?” Viv asks between bites, glancing up at me with her pale blue eyes.

“First proper one, yeah,” I mumble, wrestling a stubborn chunk of beef from between my teeth. “We had that big storm at McKellar last month.”

Moose scoffs. “Ha! You wait til tonight and tell me that what you saw at McKellar was more than a light dusting of dandruff.”

I chew slowly, glancing out the window at the dark smudge swelling on the horizon. “So, what? We’re just stuck inside now til it passes?”

“Yep. I’d count off tomorrow and maybe the next day too.” Viv nods, pushing a potato around her tray. “McKellar’s currently getting hammered with gusts topping seventy knots. It’ll be the same here within the hour, and it’ll hit us much harder than it’s hitting them. Comms will likely go down when it does, so if you have anything you need to report, do it now.”

I’d been so busy shadowing Viv and Moose that I hadn’t even started my own readings. Now it seemed unlikely I’d get a chance to cross off much from my list of tasks this expedition. Part of me mourned the lost opportunity to make my mark, but those thoughts quickly dispersed to make way for the mild panic at the prospect of having no way to contact the outside world.

It felt rather surreal. Trapped in this tin can at the edge of the world, isolated from everyone and everything, accompanied by two people I’d met just mere weeks ago.

“Lucas?”

I blink slowly. I’d not even heard Moose speak.

“Sorry?” I mutter, eyes lingering on the ever-growing dark smudge in the distance.

“Do you drink?” He repeats. 

I frown, trying to pull my attention back. “Sometimes, not much. Why?”

“’Cause if you’re about to survive your first proper whiteout, you’ll want something stronger than tea, mate. Trust me, it helps keep the nerves in check.”

“Do we have something?” I ask, unsure if he’s joking.

He grins, standing to open the cabinet behind him. He pulls out a bottle of clear liquid and hands it over to me. 

It’s cold to the touch. “Vodka?” I question, tilting it in my hands as if it might help me distinguish it from water..

“Vodka,” he confirms.

I glance at Viv. “Is this… allowed?”

“Yep. Outpost often keep a little stash for morale.” She sets three enamel mugs on the counter. “We’re ahead of schedule, and if you’ve got nothing to report, there’s really not much else we can do.”

“Real shame.” Moose takes the bottle from my hands and unscrews the cap. He fills two mugs, pausing over the third and giving me a pointed look.

“Lucas? You in?”

Veins of condensation trickle down the inside of the window panel. I take one final glance at the storm rolling in out the window and nod. 

“I’m in.”

His grin spreads, and he tips a generous measure into my mug.

My eyebrows shoot up. “That’s… a lot.”

Amused by my reaction, he chuckles and pushes it toward me. “Aye, lad. That’s what we call an Antarctic pour.”

He raises his own mug. “Slàinte! To Lucas’ first Whiteout!”

“Cheers!” Viv raises her mug to meet his and we all clink in a warm moment that makes me feel a little fuzzy inside. 

The warmth I feel is unfortunately magnified by the burn of the vodka which goes down like a molten coal. I clamp a hand over my mouth, eyes watering as I involuntarily erupt into an embarrassing coughing fit.

Moose claps me on the back, chuckling. “You feel that? That stuff'l warm you through to the bones.”

“Or decorating the floor with his insides, which I’m not cleaning up.” Viv adds dryly, taking another sip. 

Moose grins at her. “Ah, don’t mind her. She’s just mardy ’ this’ll be her third expedition running that’s been locked down by a blindie.”

“Am not,” Viv snaps, rolling her eyes. “Besides, it’s your third too, you were with me on the other two.”

“Do you two always get paired for expeditions?”

“Unfortunately,” Viv sighs.

Moose leans back in his chair, rubbing the stubble on his chin. “Someone’s got to make sure the kit doesn’t all fall apart.”

“Right,” Viv says, pulling lip balm from her pocket and generously applying it to her lips. “And it’s crucial I have someone enlighten me about whiskey and Scottish footballers?”

“I’m a multitasker,” Moose says with a laugh, then glances at me. “You a football fan, Lucas?”

I shake my head. “Ice hockey.”

“Bahh,” he mutters, slapping the table. “I’ve not had a bastard fan on a single expedition.”

“Maybe not,” I say, grinning, “but at least you’ve got yourself a snow tread buddy.” I offer my palm to high-five, which he makes a point of ignoring.

“Yeah, yeah.” He waves me off, absent-mindedly rubbing a finger over a shimmer of frost on the viewport where the seal’s gone. I take that as my cue to clean up.

Thanking Viv for the meal, I stack our trays, and carry them over to rinse at the kitchen sink. 

Calling it a kitchen was generous. Beyond a small portable stove and a handful of mismatched pans and utensils, there was little to suggest the space was actually meant for cooking. The sink itself was part of the lab setup, a yellowed piece of paper tacked above it listed checklists and signatures from previous occupants. 

I turn the tap slowly, waiting for the water to warm enough for me to comfortably touch and I submerge the trays.

“You think you two are cursed?” I call over my shoulder.

Moose barks a laugh. “Viv maybe. Every other trip I’ve done has been smooth sailing.”

“As have mine!” Viv insists.

I scrub the last remnants of stew from my tray. “Strange. Maybe it’s a sign the two of you shouldn’t be on expeditions together.”

When I glance back, Moose is chuckling under his breath while Viv only shakes her head, a half smile tugging at her lips.

“Am I missing something?” I ask, picking up on what feels like an inside joke between them.

“No,” Viv says quickly, then cuts her eyes toward Moose. “Anyway. Not all of your trips have gone smooth, have they, Moose?” Applying extra emphasis on his name.

I glance between them. “Yeah, why do they call you Moose?” I ask.

“Because every woman I’ve been with tells me I’m hung like one.” He grins, but the flush on his cheeks can’t be attributed to the cold.

“Well, that’s definitely not it.” I laugh, stacking the trays to dry and wiping my hands on a kitchen towel.

Viv smirks. “Are you going to tell him, or should I?”

“Lucas doesn’t need to know all that.” He says sheepishly. 

“I don’t know, it feels like I do…” 

“It’s a long story.” Moose shifts in his seat. “Years ago, I was leading my first expedition. The visibility was awful, I misread the trail markers, and… well, we ended up slightly off course for a very small portion.”

“I think ‘we’ is doing a lot of heavy lifting there,” Viv interjects, raising an eyebrow. “From what I heard, you were leading them through one of your now infamous shortcuts.”

He glares at her. “Yeah, well…” he continues, rubbing the back of his neck. “One of the guys fell into a drift and broke his ankle. I had to haul him out and carry him on my back for just over a mile through near waist-deep snow.” 

He laughs nervously. “Everyone called me Moose after that.”

Viv grins. “Well it might have been quite a heroic tale, if it weren’t for the fact that you were the one who put your team in peril.”

Moose groans. “Yeah, well. Thanks, guys. Not a trip goes by where that story doesn’t come up.”

I chuckle, leaning back against the counter. “I’ve heard worse nicknames at main base.”

“Ha! Tarpslap? Now that was a colossal fuck up.” Moose laughs, clearly glad to redirect the attention from himself. “And he had the mark for weeks!”

It only now occurred to me that I didn’t actually know Moose’s real name. I contemplate asking, but at this point, anything other than Moose would sound strange. 

Figuring the labour is done for the day, I excuse myself to freshen up. With a pair of lounge trousers, fresh socks and underwear, and a charcoal sweatshirt boasting the university’s logo in hand, I retreat into the bathroom.

Keeping in with the outposts minimal theme, the bathroom was little more than a metal closet with a drain, but the hot water was nirvana against my skin. Like McKellar’s, this outpost enforced a strict get-in, wash, get-out policy. A propane heater kept the supply warm, though never for long, and enjoying a longer shower was sure to leave the next person with an icy surprise.

The biting cold hits the moment I shut off the shower. I scramble to towel off and layer up, dabbing at my hair as shivers wrack my body. Somehow, the bathroom feels even colder than the -22°C I’d faced outside earlier.

When I push the door open, it’s clear neither Viv nor Moose have slowed down in my absence. The vodka bottle sits a good half of the way through and it shows in the way Moose lifts his mug and gestures behind me.

“She’s here!” He calls merrily.

I follow his unsteady arm to the window where sure enough, the horizon has totally been erased, replaced by shaded of shifting veils of white and grey. Not ten metres away, the storage shed flickers in and out of existence, lost behind the thick curtain of relentless snow hammering against the window pane.

Moose interrupts my wonder with a low whistle. “This isn’t even her peak. Give it thirty minutes and that window’ll be a blank sheet of paper.”

He wasn’t exaggerating. The force of nature before my eyes made the squalls at McKellar look tame. Yet as unnerving as it was, I couldn’t deny the sense of comfort I felt watching it unfold. 

I make space as Viv slides in beside me, huddling in close as she tucks her hands into her sleeves

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she murmurs, awe in her voice. 

“Captivating…” I watch the snow lash against the window. “Though I thought you were tired of them writing off your expeditions?”

Viv laughs softly. “Yes, the timing’s been… less than ideal. But I’ll always have a respect for the sheer intensity of them. Did you know, the force of the wind can actually bend the snow crystals into tiny, razor-sharp blades. The air itself can tear you to shreds.”

“That’s… terrifying,” I admit.

“You should name it.”

“Name it?”

“Yep. All good storms have a name.” She grins up at me, her ice-blue eyes locking on mine.

My mind runs through the possibilities. What does one even call a storm like this? A name, like hurricanes back home? ‘Whiteout Lucas’? No, that sounds insane. Something stark and chilling? Frost-blade? Glacial hammer? Were they better?

“Winters embrace.”

“Winters… embrace?”

Heat rises in my cheeks. Had I just picked the most ridiculous name ever? I didn’t even remember thinking it before it passed my lips.

“Winter’s embrace, I like it. There’s an edge to it.” Moose nods in approval.

Viv just watches me, an amused smile tugging at her lips. “Winters embrace it is.”

She steers me back to the table, where Moose is already topping up my mug.

“You play cards, Lucas?” He asks, seemingly producing a pack from out of nowhere.

“Doesn’t everyone?” I reply, sliding into my seat.

“I was under the impression everyone drank too.” He challenges.

“I drink.” I say, lifting my mug for emphasis. “Just, not often.”

“Do you know how to play poker?” He asks, giving the deck a practiced shuffle.

“Well enough.”

“Good.” He smiles, dealing us both in.

The cards slide across the table and I can’t help but laugh at the pictures of actual moose on the backs. Having not had an opportunity to unwind since arriving at the outpost, the casual hands of poker felt like a much-needed distraction. It isn’t until Viv taps a few keys at the terminal and announces, “Connection to McKellar’s is down,” that I realise that that’s exactly what this is, a distraction.

“Which means we can do whatever we want now,” Moose jokes, flashing a mischievous grin.

“Like that’s ever stopped you,” Viv laughs, folding her hand. “You holding up okay Lucas? I know it’s a weird feeling, being cut off like this. Especially the first time.”

“I’m doing fine, thanks.” Her concern was warranted, I did feel strange, maybe a little vulnerable, 

 though I wasn’t about to advertise it.

Viv tilts her head, studying me with a knowing smile. She leans over and gives my hand a gentle squeeze. I shift in my seat, trying to mask the heat creeping up my neck. 

“What you got, lad?” Asks Moose, turning over his hand to reveal three of a kind.

I lean back, enjoying the moment before finally reveal my own cards, a flush.

“Ah! Well played,” he groans, shaking his head. “Good thing there aren’t any stakes, eh?”

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” I laugh, mourning the heavy stack of chips I could be sweeping across the table right now.

“Aside from gambling being strictly prohibited, you mean?” He laughs.

“You’ve changed your tune, mister ‘we can do whatever we want now.’”

Viv snickers beside me. “Moose likes to think he’s a bit of a bad boy, but he’s just a little teddy bear, aren’t you Moosey?”

“Ha!” Moose laughs, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. “Alright then high roller, what’s your wager?”

I hadn’t expected him to flip it back on me, and I’m quickly realising there’s no abundance of stakes here in which to gamble with.

“Alright then… loser takes over cooking duty until the whiteout clears,” I say at last.

Moose considers, scratching his chin for a second before nodding. “That could be days. Alright. Viv, you in?”

She gives a small shrug. “Sure. Why not?”

The cards hit the table and, once again, luck seems to be on my side. Another flush. Moose and Viv are only able to manage a pair, Viv’s queens beating Moose’s sixes. She throws her cards down in front of him. “Looks like you’re on kitchen duty, Moose.”

“Game’s rigged. No way you pull two flushes in a row, you jammy git.” He grumbles, gathering the cards into a neat pile before giving them a proper shuffle.

I take a celebratory swig of vodka, raising my palm to accept a high five from Viv. Thankfully this time I’m not left hanging. I knew poker was all luck but it felt great to win, and even better to be relieved of my cooking duties.

“Alright, how about a proper stake,” says Moose as he pushes the deck back toward me. “Loser does a dare. Dealer’s choice.”

“You want me to come up with a dare?” I ask, questioning if he knows the full extent of the power he’s bestowed upon me.

“Aye, but before you have us dancing around the table naked, remember it might be you that has to do it.”

Viv tips her mug, smirking over the rim. “There’s an idea. How confident are you feeling, Lucas?”

Her tone is light, but the way her eyes linger makes me wonder if it’s more challenge than joke.

I shuffle the cards, feeling the effects of the vodka. Would they really go through with something like that? Would I? My hands feel clumsier than they should as I fumble with the cards. 

Here’s the facts: I’d been winning significantly more hands than I’d been losing, and somehow flushes kept falling into my lap like I’d made a deal with the devil. Worst case, I had a one-in-three shot of getting stuck with the dare. 

Still, I was two or three shots away from thinking naked laps sounded like a good idea.

“Alright. Winners both get to ask one question, anything they like. The loser has to answer them both honestly.”

They fall silent for a moment, eyes flicking between each other as if weighing which secrets might slip out. My gaze drifts to the window, where the wind is howling and rattling the frame, each gust generating a soft whistle from the door seals. The storm is in full force, and any hint of the outside world has long vanished beneath the relentless white.

I turn back to the table, where I notice a consensus has still not been met. “Wow… I’m starting to think you two aren’t the pure little cherubs I imagined.”

Moose snorts. “Alright, but I’ll warn you, I’m not going easy when I win.”

“Viv?”

“Fine. Same goes for me.”

“Fighting talk.” I laugh as I distribute the cards across the table.

We play through the hand, and I notice my mug is empty. It feels a little reckless to work through so much of the bottle in one night, but it’s going down easy, and I don’t have the mind to stop.

I assess my hand and the cards on the table. No flush this time, but I can manage a high two pair which I’m hoping will be enough to keep me out of the forfeit. I plonk them down on the table. My stomach twists when I glimpse Viv’s straight, but thankfully Moose was only able to manage a pitiful high card.

He shakes his head. “Bloody hell… fine. Go on then.”

“Boobs or ass?” Viv asks, without missing a beat.

He lets out a nervous laugh. “Really? Ass.”

Viv nods in approval. “Nice.”

For a moment, it feels less like I’m wintering with senior researchers at an Antarctic outpost and more like I’ve stumbled back into my student dorm. Not that I mind, it makes what I’m about to ask that bit easier. I unscrew the cap and pour us all a top-up.

“You guys are hooking up, aren’t you?” I ask, unable to hide the cocky grin spreading across my face.

“Lucas! What?” Viv sputters, almost choking on her drink.

I keep my gaze locked on Moose. His glance flicks nervously to Viv, just enough to confirm my suspicions, but I want to hear him admit it.

“No?” I prod, raising an eyebrow.

He exhales slowly, the defeat in his shoulders giving him away. “How… how did you—?”

“The sexual tension between you both is frankly outrageous.” I laugh. 

Viv flushes bright red, quickly hiding her face behind her hand, while Moose just groans, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Relax, I’m not about to run around announcing it,” I say with a laugh, genuinely surprised at how flustered they both look.

Moose clears his throat with a nervous cough, shifting in his seat like he wishes the foldable chair would close with him in it and swallow him whole. He glances across to Viv who seems to have lost the ability to speak.

I playfully run my fingers over the rim of my mug. “Did it start with dancing around the table naked?” 

“No,” Moose chuckles. “It… it just sort of happened.”

“Moose!” Viv interjects.

He laughs, looking a little more at ease now. “He already knows.”

“It’s fine,” I say, still grinning from ear to ear. “I doubt you guys are the first to, uh, find creative ways to keep warm on an expedition.”

Viv tucks her hair back, her cheeks bright pink. “No, but Moose was technically my supervisor at the time… hell, both of us are technically yours. I don’t think we should be speaking about this.”

I don’t say a word, just lift my brows. The walls groan as another gust slams against the outpost.

Viv sinks deeper behind her mug. “There’s nothing else to say.”

“Which is exactly what people say when there’s plenty more to say,” I prod, leaning forward.

Moose clears his throat. “It’s not like we planned it. Sometimes things just… happen when you’re out here.”

“Yeah,” I laugh. “Apparently they do.”

“Easy to sit there judging when you’ve never—” Viv stops short.

“Never what?” I challenge, though I can feel my ears heating.

“—had sex?” Moose blurts, finishing for her.

Now I’m offended. “Viv, are you calling me a virgin?”

“No!” she bursts out laughing. “That’s not what I was going to say!“

“I’m twenty-eight!” I protest, throwing my hands up in mock outrage. “Seriously, what about me screams virgin?”

“Your colour-coded binder,” Moose interjects.

“What? That’s just being organised.”

Viv smirks. “The way you read your Station Maintenance and Equipment Protocols manual for fun.”

I frown. “That’s… it’s interesting stuff!”

“Your pack of coloured gel pens.” Moose adds, folding his arms.

“The gel pens? They’re cool!”

“And don’t forget the arctic wildlife keychains dangling from your backpack,” Viv continues.

“Okay, damn!” I laugh, throwing my arms in the air. “I get it! I’m apparently the poster child for virginity!”

“It’s cute,” Viv teases, tilting her head.

“Oh my god,” I groan. “Guys… I’ve had sex before.”

This time it’s them raising eyebrows.

“I’ve had sex!” I repeat, more adamant than I’d like. I shake my head in exasperation. “We were talking about you two!”

Moose turns to Viv, feigning confusion. “I don’t remember what we were talking about before we discovered Lucas was a virgin, do you?”

“I am not a—!” I start, stopping short as I clock their grins. I take a deep breath, trying to sound serious. “I’m not a virgin. And for the record, the gel pens are objectively cool.”

“Sure they are, buddy.” Viv giggles, swinging her arm in support.

I roll my eyes, eager to redirect the conversation, until a sudden thought hits me and I leap out of my seat. “Wait— it wasn’t here, it wasn’t this outpost, was it? You guys didn’t—”

“Oh, absolutely,” Moose says, gesturing. “Right on this table. Over there, where you were working this afternoon. And on all the bunks.” He points behind me.

I freeze, scanning the room in horror.

Viv shakes her head with a quick laugh. “No, we’ve not… tainted the outpost, Lucas.”

“Yet.” Moose adds, grinning. 

I sink back down into my chair, struggling to regain my composure. “You two are sick.”

Moose shrugs, unbothered. “What? You might learn a few things you won’t find in that manual of yours.”

The words snag in my mind, conjuring the memory of Moose crouched beside the snow cat earlier, except this time everything sounds suggestive and dirty: ‘Too tight, and it’ll strain the suspension. Too loose, and it’ll derail if you hit a drift wrong.’ 

I swallow hard. Was I doomed to be a third wheel for this whole expedition, forever reading into every little thing between them? It suddenly dawned on me, that if I were not here, they might actually be intimate at this very moment. Once the thought took hold, I couldn’t picture anything else.

“You’ve gone red, Lucas.” Viv is grinning at me in amusement.

Maybe I was just an innocent little angel. Since when did this become about me? Wasn’t I supposed to be the one dishing out the teasing?

“Yeah, well.” I mutter. “I’ve just learned that my two companions, the people I’m trapped with for god knows how long, are both depraved sex pests.”

“I prefer sex opportunist,” Moose says with a laugh, stretching back in his chair.

Viv raises her mug to her lips. “And I, a free spirit.”

“Right,” I say flatly. “I don’t think that helps, actually.”

They exchange a look, like two wolves deciding who gets the first bite.

“You’re telling me that you don’t want to join our weird sex cult?” Viv asks, planting her elbows on the table and leaning her head on her hands.

I laugh. “I don’t think sex cults were covered in the paperwork. What’s BAS’ policy on that?”

“Section C,” Moose adds, deadpan. “Right after frostbite protocols, and before the bit where they make you decide who gets to eat who first in the event of a crisis.”

I shake my head, but a laugh escapes me. “God, imagine the admin. Come to think of it, they did ask me how well I work in groups in the interview.”

Viv arches a brow. “Mmm. That’ll be it. How about if you were comfortable ‘performing in close quarters?’”

“Oh god, they were preparing me this whole time!” I sit up straighter, throwing my hands up. Then, after a beat, I rub the back of my neck. “Sorry to bring it up again, but you two have done this longer than me. I mean the expeditions, not the…” I cut myself off. “Is this kind of thing… common?”

Moose snorts. “Define common. People hook up. When the nearest civilisation is over a thousand miles away, things tend to get a little incestuous.”

“So basically everyone’s fucking everyone and I’m just here with my gel pens?”

Viv smirks between sips. “I wouldn’t say everyone… but…” She leans over and grabs the medical kit from the side. She opens me and tosses a handful of colourful packets.

“Condoms?” My voice cracks embarrassingly high.

Viv shrugs casually. “More than there are bandages, actually. BAS certainly knows how to prioritise.”

I blink at her, suddenly feeling like an awkward teenager again. It wasn’t implausible that sex happened out here, but I’d hardly considered that it might be commonplace. Nobody had mentioned anything of the sort in my training, so I’d assumed it was ranked somewhere between ‘terrible idea’ and ‘career suicide.’ And yet here they were, tossing condoms around like they were office supplies.

I gulp. “In my last job, we did a cocktail-making class for team building…”

Viv nearly chokes on her drink. “I don’t think that’s the same, Lucas.”

I chuckle and toss the condoms onto the table, still scattered with the playing cards from earlier. Between that and the half-empty vodka bottle, the room was starting to look less like a research outpost and more like a seedy backroom gambling den.

“Morale is important,” Moose says with a shrug, topping up his mug.

Yeah, well,” I mutter, gesturing at the condoms scattered across the table. “I counted how many there are. So I’ll know if there have been any… boosts to morale.”

Moose snorts. “We’re stuck in a sardine tin, Lucas. In what world are we getting more than a minute to ourselves?”

I shrug, shaking my head. “Hey, maybe you only need a minute.”

“A minu— I’ll not take this from you, gel pen boy,” Moose says, giving my shoulder a playful shove.

“You two are ridiculous.” Viv smirks, her cheeks reddened from the vodka. “Honestly… you’re bringing the morale down.”

I freeze at her implication, then force a nervous laugh, hoping it masks the heat rising in my chest. “I don’t suppose there are any cocktail-making classes around here?”

Viv's eyes glint with mischief. With a quick flick, she sends a condom sliding across the table until it stops right in front of me. Before I can react, another lands in front of Moose who looks possibly as shocked as I do.

Moose hasn’t found his voice yet, so I speak up, barely managing to choke out, “Are you… are you asking us to…”

Viv’s lips twitch in a half-smile, but I can see the faint flush creeping up her cheeks, matching the quickening pulse I feel in my own chest. “I’m not asking,” she says, voice deliberately casual. “I’m… just suggesting. We could.”

I glance at Moose, expecting a joke, a protest of how insane this is, anything to break the tension. Instead, he’s looking back at me as if waiting for my answer.

It’s weird. If you’ve ever spent time crammed into a caravan with other people, it should give you a pretty good idea of what life outpost is like. I’d grown accustomed to the small space, at a certain point the walls stop closing in. Yet in that moment, the outpost felt suffocatingly small.

I clear my throat, cheeks burning as I try to form words that don’t sound completely ridiculous. “Uh… well, it’s… It’s a morale boost, you said? Like… basically encouraged?”

Viv’s grin widens, and I catch the flicker of relief in her eyes. “Basically a rite of passage,” she says, leaning back slightly. “Extremely morale-boosting, educational, team-building… Honestly, it’d be almost irresponsible of us not to give you the full experience.”

“Christ, finally!” Moose breathes, like he’d been holding his breath for the past hour. “All that sexual tension was fucking killing me.”

I blink at him, feigning innocence. “That’s what that was? I thought our work on the snow cat was purely professional.”

“Not that, you daft twat.” He grins, nudging my shoulder, as he rises out of his seat. “Though if you want me to bend you over that table and fuck you slow and proper, you only have to ask.”

My mouth goes dry and I can feel my pulse in my throat. I open my mouth and close it again. I can’t decide if he’s joking, I’m mortified, or just severely turned on. I also wasn’t sure how I’d gone from Viv’s not-so-subtle hint about sex with her, to Moose kindly offering to bend me over that table. 

Everything was happening so quickly. Suddenly my supervisors were sexual options.

“You’d… I mean… you could.” The words slip out before I can stop them.

Moose freezes, eyes wide like he’s not sure he heard me right.

“Lucas?” Viv’s grin spreads slow and wicked, her voice dripping with delight.

I want to melt into the floor, but I shrug off the heat and arousal that’s eating me up. “You guys invite me into your weird sex cult, and you’re shocked when I ask for sex? Moose?”

Moose blinks, like he’s trying to process what I’m saying. His grin falters into an incredulous smirk. “Wait, you actually want me to…”

I swallow hard, panic rising in my chest. “Is this where you both tell me this is another prank and I’ve just outed myself as a thirsty pervert?” 

Viv rises from her seat and my pulse spikes as she stops beside me and leans down until her face is inches from mine. 

“If this were a prank,” she murmurs, voice low and seductive, “do you think I’d do this?”

She leans in and presses a slow sensual kiss to my lips. I close my eyes, melting into the sensation of her soft mouth pressing against mine. I’d always found Viv attractive, but she was my supervisor, so I’d built a mental barrier around her. With her lips on mine, that barrier immediately shattered.

Viv pulls back slightly, but her eyes linger on mine, and I can practically read every filthy thought running through her head. A clicking noise behind me pulls my attention to where Moose has just cranked up the heater, it’s red light flickering as it hums to life.

He shrugs back his elbows, bunching his sweatshirt as he lifts it over his head, revealing a plain white t-shirt stretched tight over sculpted muscles.

I’ve seen Moose’s body before, of course, though always with my barriers firmly in place. But now, nothing stops me from ogling to my heart’s content. I watch the way his t-shirt stretches over muscle I’ve seen carrying those massive gas cylinders, and I can’t help but imagine being lifted the same way. The thought makes me blush.

Clearly, I’m not the only one captivated. Viv wastes no time closing in on Moose, her hands gliding over his chest and tracing the thick lines of his arms. She looks up at him, lips parting like she might say something, but deciding against it. Moose exhales through his nose, a low sound that feels more like a growl than a breath. She meets his eyes, searching for resistance and finding none. Her touch lingers lower, teasing the edge of his ribs, down the ridges of his stomach, following the faint line of hair that disappears beneath his waistband.

She glances back at me over her shoulder, a wicked spark in her eye. “Maybe you’d like to give me a hand?”

Maybe I would. 

I peel off my sweatshirt, drape it over the back of my chair, and knock back the last of my vodka before rounding the table. Viv lowers to her knees and pats the vacant space on the composite floor beside her.

I kneel down and she pulls me into another heated kiss that catches me off guard nearly as much as the first. Her tongue pushes into my mouth and flicks against mine briefly before she breaks away, leaving me breathless and desperate. I barely have a second to recover before her fingers hook into Moose’s waistband. With one tug she yanks it down, and his cock springs free, bobbing right in front of my face.

It’s big. For a long, stupid moment, all I can do is stare. Suddenly, every dirty thought in my head gives way to the reality in front of me. It isn’t until I hear Viv’s giggle that I realise she’s been watching for my reaction.

“Mm,” she teases, slowly stroking Moose’s thigh, “Having second thoughts, Lucas?”

“N-no.” Her teasing sends a shiver down my spine. I shake my head, but my shallow breath betrays my nervous arousal.

“Good.” Viv grins, sliding her slender fingers around his thick shaft, pumping his fat cock slowly as a low, guttural groan escapes Moose. She strokes up and down a few more times, and it seems to thicken and swell even more in her grip.

Suddenly, the origin of Moose’s nickname was up for question once more. The thick rod in front of me seemed equally as plausible as the story he gave earlier.

“Here.” Viv’s voice is soft as she takes my right hand and guides it to him. My fingers curl around the impossibly hard length and a shiver rockets through me. Moose shifts, hips lifting slightly, the weight and warmth of him pressing against my palm, making my own cock throb in protest.

“Don’t be shy, Lucas, really grip it.” She encourages, demonstrating with her own hand.

I tighten my hold, fingers closing around the thick, heavy shaft. Moose swears under his breath and I feel his cock pulse in my hand. I look up to see his eyes shut tight and then I feel the hot breath brushing my fingers. When I shift my gaze back, Viv’s mouth is wrapped fully around the tip, lips sliding a couple of inches down the length in determination. I cradle his balls with one hand, while the other holds his cock to allow Viv a better angle.

I can feel him jerk and twitch in my hand as Viv glides back and forth with wet slurps. If his reactions are anything to go by, she’s doing a damn good job.

Eventually, she pulls back, releasing his cock with a soft, wet pop and massages the spot where her jaw meets her ear.

“Mmph… help a girl out?” She says between breaths, angling his thick, throbbing cock toward me, still wet from her mouth.

The sheer girth makes me doubt myself for a moment. My jaw already aches from anticipation alone, despite having already seen Viv, who is much smaller than me, engulf it with no hesitation.

I take a deep, shaky breath and lean in, lips grazing the swollen tip of Moose’s cock. The weight of it makes my hand tighten at the base as I part my mouth and stretch around him. His engorged head pushes past my lips, heavy and hot on my tongue as he groans and instinctively presses his hips closer to my face. I choke slightly, spit spilling down my chin, but I force myself down, tongue flicking over the thick vein on the underside.

Having held myself there for as long as I could bear, I pull back, gasping, strings of spit clinging between my lips and his cock. Before I can catch my breath, Viv taps in, her tongue dragging down the side of his length. He eyes find mine and I realise that she’s leaving space for me to join her. 

I open my mouth and take the other side, mimicking her actions as we tongue his dick like animals in heat. Our tongues meet in the middle, smearing spit across his shaft as we make out around him, trading messy kisses as Moose’s cock twitches between us.

Ten minutes ago, the idea of being tongue-tangled with one supervisor, while the other, more senior supervisor, fucked the space between, would never have crossed my mind. The more I think about how we absolutely shouldn’t be doing this, the harder my cock throbs.

I let go of his shaft and shift lower, burying my face against the heavy weight of his balls. I take one into my mouth, rolling my tongue around it before sucking greedily. Above me, Viv wastes no time, stuffing him so far down her throat that I have to question where it goes. Every time she swallows him deep, I answer by sucking harder on his balls, nibbling softly until I feel him tense and moan. 

If this was supposed to be a team building exercise, me and Viv had it down to an art. We were so in sync it felt like sucking Moose’s cock off was our actual profession, and the research and science was just a casual hobby.

I feel Moose’s huge hand on the back of my head, directing me as I suck and lick his huge balls.

“Fuck… you two are…” He rasps, “I’m… I’m close…”

The way Viv tilts her head and gazes up at him is nearly enough to make me come. She works him with raw determination, sucking faster and deeper until her throat protests and the noises become more and more obscene. When she finally pulls back, she aggressively spits, coating Moose’s cock in her saliva and pumping him hard with her hand. She takes a moment to breathe before diving back down with renewed urgency.

“Ohh, fuck..” Moose groans in pleasure and I feel his balls tighten in my mouth, pulsing as they unload into Viv’s waiting mouth. She lets out a gasp, half in shock, half in pleasure. Her eyes go wide, and her cheeks begin to swell, full of what must be a load worthy of that monster cock.

She sputters around the sheer volume, then pulls back and turns straight to me. Before I can breathe, her lips are on mine, and her tongue invades my mouth. I taste him instantly. The irony of ‘snowballing’ in a frozen outpost at the edge of the world isn’t lost on me as she deposits an alarming amount of semen onto my tongue.

Her hands clutch my shoulders, pinning me in place as we pass the mess back and forth. When we finally part, a wild blush creeps across her cheeks. She lets out a breathless giggle at how out of hand things had become.

“Sorry, Lucas,” she pants, “I figured you’d earned that too.”

Now it’s my turn to blush. When McKellar sent me out here to shadow my supervisors and collect samples for analysis, I’m pretty sure this wasn’t the kind of fieldwork they’d had in mind.

“Fucking hell,” Moose rumbles, voice warm with amusement. “Was your cocktail class this exciting?” He chuckles low, clearly pleased with himself, and takes a half-step back, zipping up his pants and wiping his brow. “Shit, you two entertain each other. I might need a few minutes.”

He makes his way over to the sink and the metallic splash of water on steel echoes softly as he fills the kettle and sets it on the stove. The hiss of the burner joins the rattle of wind against the walls, but despite the storm, the heaters working their magic and our little outpost is starting to feel warm and snug.