Tony
stared out over the moonlit snow. The cold
rail cut through layers of clothing. He'd
dressed to impress, not to be warm.
"This was such a rip." He bitched,
to everyone and no one at once.
"No
shit!" The only other occupant of the
balcony took a drag of his cigarette. Red
embers threw high boned cheeks into base
relief. "One hundred indices of
compatibility my ass."
"I
know, forked out five-hundred for this
weekend," Tony snorted, "and I
ain't found the fucking chick listed on my
compatibility match-up."
"You're
telling me?" Dark eyes dropped half mast
as the tall man growled out the rest.
"One-twenty for the freaking profile. I
hit the perfect match." His voice echoed
with a deep rich tenor. A singing voice, Tony
mused. He'd put down singing as a hobby
himself. "All of twenty-five get
togethers and the one my soul mate will be at
is New Years in the Mountains and the fucking
bitch doesn't show."
Tony
raised his glass to the evening. Couples had
already paired off behind them. Look for your
identifying ID. Number codes spoke to
everything: We don't even need names the
advertisement promised. On the other side of
the French doors a room held it's breath:
expectant, hesitant, and thrilled. Fuck 'em
all. "Here's to being dumped by another
fucked up excuse for on-line dating."
His
ersatz companion laughed. "Salude!"
The dark haired, dark eyed, man tipped his
glass toward Tony. "What's the rule
about midnight and New Years? You're destined
to spend the rest of the year repeating
it?"
"God,"
Tony ran his thick fingers through his dirty
blond hair. Green eyes mirrored in a glass of
amber liquid, he mused. "Don't say that.
I'm going to spend the rest of my year being
dumped." The other's tumbler still
waited expectant and Tony tapped it with his
own. "What you drinking?"
"Glenfiddich."
The man laughed and knocked back a belt.
"It's the only scotch fit to
drink."
Tony
laughed. "Damn straight!" Not many
people understood that. For a time he stared
out at the mountain. So strong and beautiful,
capped with a crown of snow and backed by
billowing clouds which held the moonlight to
the ground. Why couldn't he meet a girl who
understood things like that? "All I
wanted was a chance." He sighed and
swirled the last of the scotch in his glass.
"Someone who liked old cars."
"Me
too." The other man's voice echoed
wistful against the backdrop of revelry.
"Someone who liked hiking in the Yukon
as well as breakfast in bed."
"Thick
pancakes and then hiking in the
glaciers." Tony snorted, imagining heavy
quilts and campfire coffee while preparing
for a salmon fry off the deck of a cruise
ship. The perfect mix of hedonistic luxury
and outdoorsman-ship.
Dark
eyes nodded. Damn, if he wasn't a guy it
would have been about perfect. Athletic,
trim, black hair, large brown, almost almond
eyes, and a slight olive cast to his skin all
of it spoke to maybe Armenian decent. The man
stood nearly eye to eye with Tony. All the
girls he'd ever dated were shorter and that
always bugged the pale, northern Italian
descendant. A girl he could kiss without
bending down... Tony had put that in his
profile. At nearly six foot, it was a tall
order. Now if this guy just liked Cuban
cooking he would have been perfect, except
for the lack of tits.
"I,"
the man's voice sounded so wistful and
lonely, "was going to rent a snowmobile
tomorrow. Go up into the peaks where things
are quiet."
Antonio
sighed. "I reserved one yesterday...
hope you know." He held out his hand.
"By the way, my name is Antonio."
Shivering,
the other man responded,
"Nicholas."
"Oh,
that's creepy." Tony almost snorted his
scotch.
"What?"
"The
gal I've been corresponding with is
Nikki."
Nick
laughed. "Yeah, well me and Toni have
had some great sex chats."
Everything
froze. Finally, Tony swallowed. "Sex
with showers?"
"Naked
Ping-pong?"
"You,"
Tony could barely breathe, "like having
your ass licked?"
Nick
looked into his empty glass. Chants of Ten,
Nine, Eight echoed. Finally scared and large
brown eyes slid up to stare deep into green.
"128A54225ARRG?" When Tony's face
went slack, Nick swallowed and stepped in.
"You're Toni95? Oh Fuck!"
Almost
a year of hopes and dreams and desires
swirled around Antonio. All of it led to one
person, one person he'd joked with. One
person who always knew what to say. One
person who teased and taunted, but always
came through... Nikki22. "Shut up!"
Antonio whispered as three sounded.
"Kiss me now!"
"Why?"
Nick's face was only inches from his own.
Warmth and longing seeped off his skin.
"Midnight!"
Tony panted. "Fate!"
Two
hitching breaths and Nick's lip trembled.
Then, to the sounding of Auld Lang Syne
Nick's mouth met his. Warm, demanding but
giving and self assured... all the things
Tony had asked for flowed from the kiss.
Screams of horns blared. Noisemakers popped.
People screamed with the turning of the ages.
Tony didn't give a shit. New Years drown
sweet in the pounding of another man's pulse.
© 2006
James Buchanan
