Young And Beautiful
The deep of the Norrisville snow around Randy Cunningham's beat-up and slightly-too-small snow boots echoed through the city streets silently, as it was overtaken by the bustle of the passing busses and yellow cabs.
The after-thanksgiving rush had begun, students flooding back home through the airport and the train terminals, and in the streets, people hoofed it towards their houses and apartments through two feet of snow, cold turkey and green beans in tow. Randy sighed behind his scarf, lips still tickling from the last cigarette that he shouldn't have smoked, and feet becoming numb from the cold.
Thanksgiving had been the usual that year. He slid into his parent's house the night before, and helped his mother make the stuffing, his father broke out the brandy from the old chiffarobe next to the stairs, and his mother sneered in disgust because of her displeasure of brown liquor. Father offers his son a drink, Randy takes it out of politeness and sips it loosely. His mother announced that his bed was ready, Randy made an excuse to sleep, and his father called him a lightweight as he went up the stairs. The next day the relatives came, and so did the drama. Dianne and Herman began to bicker, Vera berated Jackson over his hairstyle, and everyone poked randy in the ribs and said "You need to eat more!"
It was the same, every year.
He was surprised to find the door of the apartment unlocked and even more surprised to see Debbie on the living room floor painting her nails.
"How was Thanksgiving?" Randy asked as he pulled off his scarf and tossed it on the hanging rack, Debbie turned to him, hand out in front of the fan. "Didn't go." Plane was delayed six hours so I just got my money back."
"Your parents weren't mad?" An eyebrow arched and randy made a face at the girl as he unbuttoned his jacket and shucked off his boots. Debbie looked back to him, giving an obligatory blow to her nails. "Not really, my mom yelled at me in Vietnamese, and then she said she would send my cousin home with some food. Knowing Charlie, he'll eat it on the way here."
Randy gave a small chuckle, letting a tired hand run through his dark hair. He sat on the loveseat adjacent to Debbie, and greeted the "Ploomf" of the couch with much waited appraisal. Nothing was really on, and outside, the sky slowly banned into a muckish black, as night drew near. Debbie got up, and rummaged around in the kitchen, and randy licked his lips, in need of another cigarette.
It would be his fifth today.
"So, how are you and Weinerman?"
Randy ceremonially arched an inquisitive eyebrow, and pushed himself deeper into the couch. "Were okay, I guess."
"You guess?"
"You know what I mean." He says as he shifts, pulling the pack of Newports from his long johns. Debbie cut her eyes at him, and he gave a nervous chuckle. There would be no smoking on the couches they were still paying for.
It wasn't like they owned the apartment anyway, a two bedroom two bath apartment-condo in downtown Norrisville was so high, randy would have to sell both his kidneys.
Randy laid lengthwise along the couch, pulling out his phone and he was met with his background.
He remembered when the picture was taken; it was around two months ago, late in the day, when the sun streaked across the sky with hues of orange, red, and saffron. It had been an outing, a get together for all of them, at their age; they wanted a beer and time to enjoy the weekend. Howard came home early, and said that he stole a six pack from his sister.
Naturally the group jumped at the chance.
They killed the six-pack pretty quickly; with four people there wasn't much to go around. Teresa suggested they go out for a walk, maybe go get Chinese at the restaurant a few blocks over. It sounded nice.
The meal was nice, quick, but nice, and the group headed to the park.
It was there, that Howard collapsed onto the bench, and began to chuckle as he mused on about something randy couldn't quite remember, He beckoned for randy to sit down next to him, which he did, and Howard listlessly wrapped his arms around him, and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. It was the type of kiss that Small children give to each other when they play house, innocent, and sincere, and the warmth from his cheek spread as far as the tips of randy's toes.
He remembered this kiss, because kiss afterwards, was hollow.
By now, the outside sky was fading saffron and magenta together, and the city of Norrisville lit up, from the slums to the suburbs. The tops of the buildings lit up with their flashing red lights, and below, cars honked along the bridge. From the west, rainclouds, or perhaps snow began to slowly encroach over the lateral of the city, and darkened its outskirts.
The door was flung open rudely, and bounced off the makeshift rubber doorstopper. Howard and Teresa clambered into the apartment, howard breathing into his oversized bubble coat, and Teresa adjusting her ski hat tepidly with her free hand. Like Randy suspected, theyd brought him a copious amount of leftovers with them, howard more than randy and Teresa combined. Randy got up off the couch, and smiled warmly to Howard, who knitted his eyebrows in acknowledgment. Randy felt his heart drop a little bit, and blew out a quick sigh, Taking the leftovers to the kitchen and setting them in the bins haphazardly. When he came out the kitchen, Howard was on the couch, sitting adjacent to Teresa who was peering out the window at the night sky. Randy took a seat next to Howard, who peered up to him with his beryl eyes.
"Hey."
"Hi."
Howard looked up long enough to kiss Randy softly on the lips, before turning back to his phone. Randy received another hollow kiss, and lounged back along the loveseat's top.
"How was thankgiving?" Howard asked, not looking up from his phone. Randy sat back up, and pulled his knees close to him.
"Lame. My cousin brought her Baby-daddy's kid and the brat wouldn't shut up about how many followers he had on twitter. I was like; Dude, you're nine. Nobody cares" Randy said, winding his wrist. "But of course they treated him like a king, and let him have three slices of the cake."
"Are you talking about the real blonde cousin, or the bottle blond cousin."
"Bottle blonde, the one with the weird left eyebrow."
"I hate her ass. She has some bruce-ass tits though." Howard interjected.
Randy snapped his neck around to his boyfriend. "Dude."
"Howard rolled his eyes annoyingly, and looked up to randy. "Your tits are Brucer."
"Not helping."
"Not tryin' to"
Outside, thunder shook the high rise building, and lightning struck n the distance.
Teresa got up, and checked the windows.
"Looks like another snowstorm, maybe a blizzard."
Randy pouted. "More snow? That's not fair!"
"Tell that to god." Debbie said, removing the foam separators from between her toes and admiring her work.
Randy sank back into the couch, and laid his head on Howards shoulder. Howard shook him off, stating that he was too deep into the game and that he didn't want to fuck up.
Randy just sighed, and let the couch consume him.
The bed that Randy and Howard shared was a king sized Sealy that the two had found wrapped, at a yard sale. Randy could fondly remember the light in Howard's eyes as they tied it to the roof of Randy's Toyota, claiming that they could finally get rid of the futon that they had shared. The futon stayed, but as a lounge, even though Howard said he wanted to throw it out. Randy recalled convincing him to keep it with some long speech about how it was important because it was the bed that they had first "Made Love" On and Howard let the lanky male have his way. But what was randy to do, he considered these thing important, and the Tyrain-haired male kept them to heart.
Randy lay in bed, covers bunched up around his abdomen and his feet exposed, having already shanghaied Howards pillow and built him a miniature fort.
Nights like this were becoming more and more common, Randy retiring to the plush of the bed, Howard joining him in the dead of night, telling him to move over, or give his pillow back. Randy would pretend to be asleep, and stay still until the steadiness of Howard's breath inaugurated sleep. Randy would say and listen to him, the steadiness of Howard's breath becoming his rock. Call him crazy, but these were the times that Randy held dear to him deep in his heart, whether the two be drifting apart or not.
But Howard wasn't here yet.
Randy's eyes panned back and forth from his phone, to the door, to the emptiness of Howard's spot. Randy had become accustomed to the heat of the other beside him, and the emptiness that ensured, beat on the back door of his mind with a vicious cry of wrong. Randy sat up in bed, and tossed his phone to the pillow to his left, and with his free hand, pulled back one of the hanging blinds and peered out to the skyline. Above, the pitter-patter of a borderline blizzard gave Norrisville the first kiss of Mid-winter. Randy sighted, balling his hands together and glancing towards the door again. It was almost as if loneliness had taken Howard's place as a friend, and a lover. Bleak days filled with huss of empty rooms, and nights composed of heated breaths and short strokes.
The wind picked up, and Randy pulled the curtains back and creased the blinds so the little bit of moonlight could illuminate the room.
It was night like this that reminded randy of the early days of he and Howard being together.
It was Christmas break, two days before Christmas day. The pair had been together just a little over two months, and though Randy, in his second year of being the ninja was busy all the time, he gave each and every spare moment to Howard.
It was late in the December night, the two lay in Randy's bed after a generous amount of fooling around (they wouldn't do anything excessive for another year or so.) They were cuddling, or just about as close at the two could get, the redheads hand centered on the crux of Randy's lower back, and Randy's head in the curve between Howard's neck and shoulder. Randy was pretty sure the other had passed out a few moments ago, and he laid in silence, listening to the sync between their heartbeats, and that's when randy realized it.
He was in love.
He was in love with Howard Weinerman, the passive-aggressive sort-of pessimistic schemer of a meatball that paraded around his mind constantly with thrifts of love and joy. Even in his sleep the hearth of the Ninja's heart kept him warm, because Howard was there for him. Holding him close, and breathing the same air as he. Howard was there, he was with him, and in Randy's countings, he would always be.
How naive he had been.
He berated himself for it, hell; it ate him away at his very core. Because of Randy's naivety, he never saw the reality. He was under the impression that Howard would love him after he was no longer young and beautiful. He had fabricated this world that maybe; just maybe; Howard loved not the hero, but the hero behind the mask. And it ate at him; it ate at his very soul, because he never, not once considered that Howard's love belonged to the ninja, and the ninja alone.
But now, there was no more ninja.
Randy had taken him down in a showdown in senior year, and in a flash of orange light, The tortured soul of the sorcerer left this earth, and with it, the Nomicon and its secrets laid to rest.
Randy hadn't touched the book since.
He inadvertently found himself staring back out the window, even as the door opened, and Howard tiptoed in.
"Why are you still awake? I thought you passed out hours ago." Howard inquired, sliding past Randy and taking back his pillow. Randy looked at the Weinerman with tired eyes and smiled. "I lied. I wanted to see the snow."
"Youre so weird." Howard rolled his eyes and fixed his rumpled pillowcase. "Stop being a shoob and go to bed."
Randy looked to him, then to the snow outside, and then back at him. He smiled, and laid down adjacent to his boyfriend."
"Goodnight Howard."
"Goodnight Cunningham.
A silence.
"I love you."
Another silence.
"Yeah, I know."