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Telephone
Tristan used to play prank calls. Although, as he said often enough, “play” perhaps wasn’t the right word for the brilliant performances he’d essay from the tiny, dilapidated, kiosk in the village, the connection futzing out every other word. He’d stand there hunched over the receiver, made impervious to the biting wind that screamed in through the cracks by the enormous amount of alcohol sloshing through his system, and bite back giggles as he listened to Jim getting furiouser and furiouser on the other end. But it was too bad, really. Because too long picturing the flush in Jim’s cheeks and the bewildered sleepy rage in those impossibly innocent eyes took the fun out of even the most riotous evening.
Now, though, he’s come up with a better prank. He’s discovered a talent for imitating the sound of the telephone, and some nights when he’s still feeling a bit puckish he wiggles even closer to Jim, purses his lips in the other man’s ear, and rings.
Tristan can’t imagine a finer sight than Jim leaping out of bed, heroically charging into the darkness to save a poor newborn lamb or the like. He usually gets about halfway to the door of their room before he realizes that the ringing has stopping, and there’s a glorious moment where he stands there stark, befuddled, fair skin goose pimpling in the sharpness of the night air.
Then the gears visibly begin to move and he turns on Tristan, ready to storm as loud as he can without waking Siegfried. But Tristan is laughing too hard to listen, and Jim is too cold to stay mad, and he knows from experience how warm Tristan can be.
It’s still too bad, really, because Tristan knows that dreamy look in Jim’s eyes when he thinks of Helen, knows it too well because it’s the only way he can express that there’s a fire in his bones and he’s named the fire Jim. He knows he’ll lose the boy (because they’re both just boys, aren’t they?), and soon, and it’s back to the kiosk for him, gloomily picturing Jim’s eyes and cheeks and goose pimples. But ‘til then it’s warm under the blankets, and Tristan snuggles close, and closes his eyes, and rings.
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