another (final) winter
That winter is the bitterest in years. The sky is constantly grey and cloudy, the temperature never gets to integers, the fountains in central park are frozen over and when Whizzer looks out of the window in the morning he can see frost on the neighbouring rooftops. He goes for long walks around the park, day and night. He’s started getting cold symptoms, from letting himself be too cold for too long, but it’s a small price to pay for pictures this good. In the day he takes landscapes, winter skies and frozen flowers and ice on the fountains, and at night he takes portraits of the cruisers. Most of them know him, so they let him photograph them. Some are rude and tell him to fuck off. He takes them with high exposure. Lots of flash. It makes them look washed out. Captures the emotion behind their eyes. One night he asks a guy leaving a restroom if he can get a photo and the guy gawps at him. Whizzer goes to apologise and make himself scarce, but the guy stops him. Tells him that the last time they met Whizzer was seventeen and scrawny and cried after they fucked. Whizzer almost laughs. He tells the guy that yeah, it’s been a while. Asks the guy how he is. The guy says that he’s getting by. Asks Whizzer how he is. Whizzer says he’s domestic. The guy’s shocked. They both laugh. The guy wishes him luck and lets Whizzer take a photo of him. It’s a neat, sharp portrait of the guy laughing. Whizzer likes it. He asks the guy for his name, captions the picture ‘ernest, an old friend? // 11.19.81’, shakes the guy’s hand then walks home.
Marvin’s not home yet. Working overtime. Whizzer pulls his coat off, stick a supremes record on and hops onto the couch. He picks up the landline and dials Marvin’s work. Asks his secretary, a cute nineteen year old called Dora, if Marvin’s in. She passes Whizzer over. Marvin sounds tired as all hell. Whizzer asks if he they can just get chinese for dinner. Marvin’s too exhausted to disagree. He tells Whizzer he’ll be home in half an hour. Whizzer tells him to go easy, hangs up and looks for a menu. He orders a tonne of garbage, hangs up, flips the record and then coughs. Ouch. It feels like his lungs are burning and he can taste something metallic in his mouth. Must be the cold. He gets a drink of water and tries to ignore the residual taste in his mouth. Dances a little more. Sticks the tv on.
Marvin gets in ten minutes before the delivery guy. Whizzer greets him by running to the doorway and practically jumping at him. He kisses the bridge of Marvin’s nose, then both his cheeks. Marvin pecks Whizzer’s lips and leans his forehead against his boyfriend’s. He’s visibly drained as hell. Whizzer tells him the food will be delivered in a moment. Marvin grunts affirmatively and collapses onto the couch. Whizzer laughs at his level of lethargy, then gets the door when the bell rings. He grabs the food, pays the kid who’s carrying it, shuts the door, hops onto the couch and passes Marvin chopsticks and a box of noodles. They watch ‘the man who fell to earth’ and eat in front of the tv, a luxury they can only enjoy when Jason’s not with them. They don’t do it when he’s there for fear of setting a bad example. Whizzer rests his legs on Marvin’s lap. Marvin objects. Whizzer ignores said objection. Marvin rolls his eyes at him, but there’s affection behind it.
They go to bed at a reasonable ass hour. Half eleven or something like that. Whizzer makes some ‘woe is me’-esque comment about being domestic. Marvin snorts. Whizzer gets them both peppermint tea and they drink it in bed while talking about absolutely nothing. Marvin falls asleep in half an hour. Whizzer gets to sleep at one, but he doesn’t sleep remotely peacefully. In fact, he barely sleeps. At two he staggers out of bed and involuntarily pukes up the day’s worth of food. That’s not blood in the sick, is it? Nah. it’s just the light. He washes his mouth and hands, disinfects the toilet and goes back to bed, but at half three he’s up again. Coughing. He sits on the bathroom floor with the door shut, so the coughing doesn’t wake Marvin. The metallic taste in his mouth is back. He washes it out again. Uses mouthwash six times. Takes some nyquil. Maybe it’s the flu instead of a cold. Whatever. He’ll be fine. He gets back into bed and passes out.