He woke up when he heard the door closing after Marie. Apartment felt considerably colder than it had been for the previous night. He burrowed deeper under covers, breathing in her sleepy scent. It was somehow comforting, and he could have sworn that the covers she had given him still carried the warmth from her body. Radiator was a cheap replacement for her. It lacked the softness of her body. He grunted and kicked off the covers, sitting up reluctantly.
He was awake now. And cold as hell. As soon as the lock had clicked on to place after Marie it was as if somebody had replaced the covers with a sheen of snow, and even the radiator felt cold as ice, even though he could tell from the changed situation of the thermostat, and Marie’s scent that still lingered that she had in fact upped the heat before leaving.
“Might as well get dressed and go and get something to eat…” He muttered, reaching for his jeans. He spent a moment trying to find a suitable shirt.
“What the fuck are you doing, bub?” He asked from his mirror image. He was standing in the bathroom, in front of a tiny mirror, trying to see which of the shirts, the red, or the blue one would suit him the best. He explained it of as a momentarily lapse of reason, then chose a black T-shirt and the red flannel shirt over it. One more dash to the bathroom, to check if he needed to shave, and maybe he should comb his hair because it really looked a bit crinkled and…
“Oh, for Christ’s sakes! I bet Scott would be proud of me…” He growled, tearing his gaze off from the mirror, hurrying towards the front door to avoid any last minute interruptions when it hit him. He hadn’t put his shoes on the radiator last night.
He eyed his boots. They’d be wet. They’d be cold. His feet would start smelling like an old dishrag, and by the end of the day his toes would be crinkled as prunes and every bone in his feet would be hurting like a bitch. And was he slowly turning to old, arthritic lady by any chance? All he’d have to do was to find himself a cat, and he’d be good to go.
“Screw the breakfast. I need a beer.” Lots of it, he huffed when he put on the boots and could feel the water sloshing around his toes with every step he took.
The doorman smiled and greeted him with a chipper ‘goodmorningsirhowareyouonthisfinemorning’. He rewarded the man with murderous glare before sloshing out and deciding to hail a taxi rather than brave the weather. It was easier said than done. Every single new Yorker seemed to have the same bright idea, and it took him nearly half an hour of cajoling, stepping over puddles and avoiding passing cars splashing him with watery slush, and in the end plain flashing his claws and threatening to skewer the business-creep carrying a laptop who tried to steal his taxi before he could step in, lean back and close his eyes.
“Where to?”
“You know a place where I could get a decent breakfast with beer?” He asked, not bothering to open his eyes. His nose told him everything he needed to know. The driver was Haitian. The car was Japanese. The vomit on the floor between his feet was from the last night, Indian with some quality booze in the mix.
“Do yourself a favor, my man. Walk. It’s just around the corner!” He heard the driver huff. Scent of marihuana in his breath made him grimace and he decided to take on the driver’s advice.
He had had no idea that the place where Marie worked served beer. Now, sitting at the counter, waiting for her to bring his plate and the beer he already felt a good deal warmer. And even the places that shouldn’t have been warming in her presence started stirring up, reminding him that it had been exactly three months and two days since he had last gotten laid. He shifted on his chair and cleared his throat.
“What time do you get off?” He asked. Marie turned from the coffee maker she was loading and flashed him a teasing smile.
“That’s for me to know and you to find out… But my shift ends four o’clock, if that were what you were wondering.” There was no way she could know what that smile, pearly white teeth peaking just barely from between her moist, parted lips did to him. No way.
“Four? Okay. I’ll be waiting for you outside. That is, of course if you’re still up to some shopping. I was thinking you should come with me, since you’re the one ending up in that bed sooner or later.” Marie winked at him and her smile only widened, her pink tongue darting quickly from between her teeth.
“Oh, honey… Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” She huffed theatrically, placing her palms over her heaving chest, and he couldn’t help noticing how nicely her uniform accentuated her breasts. Breasts? Since when she had grown out such a rack? And since when he had started to notice this kind of things from her? He tore his eyes off from the sight and tried not to think about her soft curves pressed against him, and concentrated on the food instead.
Half of the day he spent scouting for numerous boutiques and markets for the bed. Finding the trip very enlightening he decided to start tackling with his more urgent problem at hand. As cold and miserable as he was, he was still horny as hell. Since jerking off was the last possible resort he started hitting on his old flings. And started getting turned down at every door. Some were married, some not interested anymore, and the only one still actually hot for him was having her period, and Camille just wasn’t the type of girl getting it on while she was bleeding.
He glanced at his watch and cursed out loud. Ten past four. He started running. He could already see Marie, standing in the crowd, obviously searching for him. He skidded to a halt before he got plowed to the street by a taxi, then lost his balance and stumbled over to where she stood and fell on his ass to the icy slush at her feet.
“Hi. Uh… Enjoying yourself?” Marie had the audacity to laugh. Anybody else would have gotten gut full of adamantium, but he only grunted at her.
“Stop your chirping, Tweedy Bird and help me up from here!” He huffed in mock annoyance. And she bought it. Score one for Wolverine, nil for Rogue. He grinned widely and pulled her down on the street as well; planting her firmly next to him in the puddle he was sitting in.
“Hey! What was this for?” Marie asked, still unable to stop laughing. It was contagious. Regardless of his shitty afternoon, and the fact that not only his boots, but his jeans as well were soaked and sloshing he started to laugh. People passing by stared at them numbly, as if they weren’t even seeing the mismatched couple sitting in a puddle of cold water and half melted snow in the middle of the sidewalk, laughing and grinning like idiots.
“Oh, god… It looks just like I peed my pants…”
“Yeah, it does. But who’s going to notice? They didn’t saw us when we were wading in that puddle. I seriously doubt that anybody’s going to look at you twice,” he said, trying to stifle the quite unmanly fit of giggles. Marie was checking herself through her mirror image from a large window in front of them. She was twisting and turning, trying to survey the damage she had taken and kept casting dirty glances towards him every now and then.
“What? So it’s okay for me to slosh around with huge wet stain at my rear, but it’s not okay for you?” He asked still chuckling when they started walking towards her apartment.
“Tweedy Bird? Have you been watching Looney Tunes again?” She asked.
“Nope. But I have been watching beds and bed sheets. I swear if somebody tries to offer me a set with cartoon characters one more time I’ll… Do I look like I could enjoy cuddling up with Wile Y. Coyote?”
“It’s the latest fashion. Everybody has those. I even bought a set for professor Xavier for his birthday.”
“What was on it?”
“Marvin the Martian. Hmmm… I think Wile Y. Coyote would suit you just fine…”
“I’m feeling more like Pepe Le Pew right now. What does it take to get laid in this city? Have tried everything except money already.”
“Too much information there, bub. Urgh. I really do feel like I peed my pants. Hurry up. I want to get off from these soaked clothes.”
“My charm turning you on?”
“Haha, Pepe. Go jump off a cliff or something.”
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