Outside the window, the snow obliterated the view of the highway but since Tyler was less than a mile from the airport, there wasn't much to see except ramps and lanes and traffic. The snow had started that morning when he had landed in the city for his meeting: small, enchanting, romantic flurries. By the time he had hailed a cab in the afternoon, four inches were already on the ground and flights were being delayed. He'd gotten one of the last rooms at the hotel, just as everyone - the receptionist, the cab driver, the airline reservations clerk - had started to mouth the word "blizzard" to him, or, rather, started to mouth two words, "big blizzard," as if the description blizzard was not an adequate enough of a weather forecast to instill a sense of urgency to get some place and stay there for a while. Now, in Tyler's fourth floor hotel room, the snow was so fierce it drained the color from everything, the dark green bedspread, the hunting print above the bed, the cherry wood of the desk and chair. Even the air in the room seemed as if it had been washed away, or, rather, had been sucked into a clear bottle and frozen, waiting to be thawed. Tyler, stripped of all his clothes, pressed himself close to the window pane, the stale coolness seeping through the glass like an undetected leak of gas. His shoulder felt sore so he rotated his arm, then rubbed his dry hand across his drier skin. Winter, he thought. Aches. Arthritis.

Tyler stood at the window with his back to a young man named Brad or Chad or Tad or something like that. Tyler didn't care anymore what the guy called himself. He had cared the night before, when Tad had arrived, but for the last twelve hours he hadn't cared at all. Any sense of intimacy Tyler had felt for Brad or Chad had evaporated long ago. Tyler was bothered by his growing callousness - wasn't this what he had always wanted? Time alone with a young man. They had stayed up late drinking a bottle of wine, snuggling against one another, and watching television till Tad or Brad fell asleep. Tyler had absorbed the alcohol quickly, the wine fading into a headache and insomnia. Tyler had held whatever-his-name in his arms until he felt himself sweating, then pushed the young man away so that he slept on his side.

But by morning a weighty restlessness had seized Tyler, like a mouse trapped in a maze searching for the right way to a piece of cheese he could smell. At the window, Tyler rubbed his hand along the fine hair of his own chest and realized he might be attracted to Brad if he had become someone else. Another Brad. Maybe a Chad, he laughed to himself. I've had Brad, he thought. Now give me Chad. Tyler then watched with bored interest as he looked down at his testicles and watched them shrink the closer he moved to the window. If anyone were in the parking lot looking up at his window, Tyler knew they would be unable to see him up there, striped by the blinds with freezing nuts and a painful shoulder.

Todd - it was Todd, Tyler decided - lay on the floor wearing only his red flannel boxer shorts, an item of clothing he had sexily revealed with a flourish the evening before. Todd was young and lean. A brunet. Handsome with a nose too big for his face. Now he was busy touching his knee to his nose doing stomach exercises and shooting annoying breaths out of his mouth as if he were about to hurl a spitball. He'd been doing this senseless thing for almost an hour.

"Let's go down to the fitness room," Todd said. "Mr. Tyler?"

His voice, in this air, stayed even after the meaning was gone from his words. The room remained full of his voice - dropped into corners like packed snow on the roadside in spring. "I'm sure the fitness room is more like a fitness closet," Tyler said. The edge in his voice was easily detectable. "And it's not Mr. Tyler. It's just Tyler." He didn't bother to look back at Todd. He had studied and studied the body till it no longer excited him. Todd had finely carved abs like the cuts of a diamond and it was a magnificent display watching them flex and twist and breathe. But what was the purpose, Tyler wondered? He had seen them and now they were ancient history. He wanted something else. But even more, he wanted to be somewhere else.

"At least the electricity works," Todd said. "Last year we lost power."

"How long did it last?" Tyler asked.

"Three days," Todd said. He held his knee to his nose. "Can you see anything?" he asked.

Tyler didn't respond. He didn't see anything beyond the white wall of snow. When he arrived at the airport yesterday he had been delighted to hear that the flight had been canceled, not from the snow - snow was always expected in this region - but because of the wind gusts. The airport closing gave him a legitimate reason to stay overnight, a bona fide expense report item to submit, a chance to have some fun before returning back to the closeted grind of corporate meetings and lunches and lectures and conference calls. Tyler had seized the opportunity to order room service and a hustler. Todd had arrived quicker than the food. By the time they had finished, though, there were already four more inches to the snow, frozen granules mixed in with the lighter stuff - and the television said bus service had been suspended until the roads could be cleared and sanded. And Tyler hadn't been so eager to see Todd disappear.

"Everybody's always in a hurry to get somewhere," Todd said.

Tyler didn't answer.

"Do you like my stomach?" Todd asked.

It was only the thousandth time he had asked Tyler that question. He heard the insecurity creeping into Todd's voice and if he could placate Todd without using too much energy, he decided he would. So he nodded. He could have easily turned Todd out into the snow last night. Wham, bang, here's your money, so long, don't hurry back even though you are gorgeous and it was incredible sex. But it was late and dangerous outside and early on Todd had tapped into that warm fuzzy paternal spot Tyler always felt for the young and pretty boys who looked put upon. Now, Todd's company had worn thin. Tyler turned and took a long look at Todd's stomach and managed to work up a grin, trying not to be one of those sour old businessmen, who, well, float into town and hire hustlers. "What's not to like? You should do movies."

Todd stretched both legs out in front of him and pointed his toes, then sat up straight at the waist, a perfect right angle, sure of himself. "I guess," he said, then smiled at himself. "Best abs in Hollywood."

Tyler started to turn back to the window, wondering why he was the one now doing the pampering. Wasn't Todd supposed to be indulging him?

"I was in a commercial once," Todd said. "I did an internship at a television station my sophomore year. One of the camera guys was filming a diet commercial. I got to be the 'after' guy. Did you know that it's not the same person? I always believed that they could lose the weight."

Tyler did not react. Too much chatter, he thought, and he tried to tune Todd out.

"Wanna play around?" Todd said, dropping his voice into that low whispery octave that had so excited Tyler last night. "No charge since you're letting me stay."

"Too beat," Tyler said, and looked back at the window, weary and bored.

"I'm going to go downstairs," Todd said, making it sound like a threat, though Tyler couldn't imagine what kind of threat it could be.

"Better put something on first," Tyler replied.

Todd didn't move from the rigid shape he'd got himself into. With the lamp on inside the room, Tyler could see Todd's reflection in the window and he studied that - the reflection - squinting to see if he could detect the definition of Todd's abs in the snow.

Then he looked beyond the reflection. Back into the snow. The snow swirled and curled and danced in front of his eyes like an overprogrammed computer screen saver. The warmth of the room was pulled up through the window and sucked off into the snow. He looked down at the parking lot and thought he could detect someone racing out into the snow, their hands pumping together like clapping, probably to keep the circulation going.

In the window he looked deeper into the snow, believing for a minute he saw thousands of men clapping their mittened hands together. They were sure they were going to freeze if they remained motionless, never to arrive someplace warm. Then they disappeared.

"Tyler?" Todd asked.

Tyler ran his hand down to his groin, running his hand across his cock. He was aware of Todd looking at him.

"Is it still hard?"

"Sure," Tyler answered, playing the suggestive innuendo game but unable to mask the cynical tone in his voice.

"How much longer?" Todd asked.

That raspy voice again. How much longer snowing, Tyler thought, or in this room, or in this room with him?

"What's your hurry? Am I that unpleasant company?"

"Of course not," Todd said. He pouted in a boyish self-absorbed manner.

"It's just the snow's making me cranky," Tyler said.

"Let's play some more," Todd said. He stretched out his body and cupped his balls.

"Aren't you worn out?" Tyler asked.

"No," Todd said, his grin taking on a fake, impish quality. "Are you?"

"Yes," Tyler said. "You're too much for me."

"So let's just neck some more."

Tyler didn't really want to be unkind to him, though he knew he was being hustled now. "Neither of us has shaved."

"Want me to shave you?"

Years ago he would have been delighted with the offer. Hours ago he would have been delighted. "I'm not twenty anymore, though I wish I were, sometimes." Tyler turned and looked at Todd. "Or I wish I was twenty and knew what I know now."

Todd smirked. Tyler turned and faced the window again. As he did he caught sight of his own reflection this time, his white hair crossing against the currents of snow. Everything would be all right again soon. All he had to do was wait.

"Tyler?"

"Huh?"

"Wanna shower together?"

"Hmmm."

"Or soak in a bath?"

"My joints are damp enough," Tyler said.

Todd went into the bathroom. Tyler heard him take a leak and flush the toilet. Then he turned the water on. Then he heard the shower head begin and the sound of the water change as Todd stepped between the flow. Tyler stayed at the window and ran a hand over his chest and pinched the slackness at his hips. He was still there when Todd came back into the room, dripping onto the carpet.

"Tyler?"

"Huh?"

"I'm going crazy in this room."

"Put something on. You're going to get a cold."

Todd put his boxers back on and a T-shirt and ran the towel through his hair. Tyler watched the process in the reflections of the window, momentarily imagining Todd was a soccer player, toweling off after a game. The image burst apart in another flurry of snow and Tyler again felt old and vulnerable in his sagging flesh.

"Wanna get something to eat?" Todd asked.

"If you want."

"Room service?" Todd asked.

"Sure."

Behind him, Tyler heard Todd pad across the carpeted floor and sit at the desk, thumbing through the hotel journal till he reached the room service menu.

"What do you want?" Todd asked.

Tyler smirked at the loaded irony of the question. I want to be out of this room, in an airport, on my way home, away from you, on my way to someone else. For a moment he thought about running out like a lunatic - racing down the hall and into the lobby with nothing on. At least he might be arrested. At least it would take him to jail. Somewhere else.

"Nothing heavy," he answered.

"How about some ice cream?" Todd asked. "Or a milkshake?"

"Coffee," Tyler said. "I'd like something warmer."

The ice cream and the coffee came ten minutes later. Todd's spoon clinked against the glass at an annoying speed. Tyler sat in a chair facing the window, a cup in his hands.

"That killed a half-hour," Tyler said when he had finished his coffee. Tyler finally pulled himself away from the window and sat on the edge of the bed and turned on the television. Todd curled up on the bed into a fetal position, a pillow cramped between his legs, as if waiting to be petted.

"Wanna watch a movie?" Todd asked. "They have a movie selection here."

"Let's check the news first," Tyler replied. He flipped the channel, wondering if God would give him a respite with the snow. Even a little one. He shook his head to clear it.

"Something the matter?" Todd asked.

Tyler shook his head to indicate no. The moving images on the screen made his vision blur. He lay down, exhausted from the anxiety of trying to decide how long he might have to stay. He thought maybe he couldn't last - that he'd have to cancel his appointments for tomorrow as well. The snow had become his business now. Something tugged at his inner ear. A rumble that seemed to shake the foundation of the building. He lay still and quiet and then felt it again. "What?" he asked.

"I didn't say anything."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Maybe it was Todd's voice again, stirring in the room from some dead sentence. It tugged again, and Tyler realized it was a sound outside the room, far off. "Hear that?"

"I don't hear anything."

"It was the parking lot. Someone's leaving." Tyler felt his pulse quicken and, as he lifted himself off the bed, he struggled to overcome a dizziness. He padded across the carpet and looked out of the window again.

"Maybe they're salting the highway."

"No, listen," Tyler said. In another minute he heard it again, barely above the blood beating in his ears. Todd joined him at the window. Tyler smelled the soap Todd had used. He was aware of Todd's heat and the hairs on his leg stood up, warning him of Todd.

"It's lighter," Tyler said, looking out through the snow, the tone of his voice brighter, breezier.

"Sure is," Todd added.

While they were watching the snow a man walked beneath them through the parking lot. Tyler's eyes followed him, watching the man's mittened hands clap together. The snow swirled in thinner gusts now, flaking against the window before melting.

Tyler walked to the phone and dialed. "Are they back on schedule?" Tyler asked. As the receptionist explained that flights were now leaving, Tyler thought that his giddiness would give him a heart attack, his blood now a roar in his ears. He hung up the phone smiling.

Tyler packed with a hurry and a determination he had not possessed since he had arrived in the city. He kept looking outside as he packed, watching the flurries thin out. He could now see the sharp line on the horizon where the highway was.

Todd was dressed in his jeans and coat in a matter of seconds. Tyler waited for him to ask for more money, but as Tyler lifted his suitcase off the bed and moved toward the door there was nothing. Impulsively Tyler stopped and kissed Todd abruptly on the lips with a passion he hadn't shown the boy since he'd first arrived in the room. Todd slipped his arms through Tyler's jacket and returned the kiss. Suddenly they were all hot and bothered at the idea of losing one another. "I'm here often," Tyler said. "Could I see you again?"

Todd nodded and Tyler knew that if he wanted more he would have to pay the price of it. In the elevator he felt relaxed. Peace, he thought, and studied Todd with his clothes on, finding himself mentally undressing him and growing hard at the thought of the young man.

By the time Tyler reached the airport he was as exuberant as the sun, the light bouncing off the snow drifts so brightly he paused only to search for his sunglasses.

©2001 Jameson Currier - Contributor's Bio

'Snow' was anthologized in Best Gay Erotica 2003 & Best American Erotica 2004