Entry tags:
inside, outside, ussr (![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
100originalfics #62: Spring)
He doesn't like spring in L.A. There's too much pollen and it makes him sneeze, fills his head with gunk and exhaustion. People on the freeways are disoriented by the sun and good weather and they drive like idiots. It's not quite summer, when the sheer expanse of well-toned skin makes up for the suffocating heat, and it's not winter, when the juxtaposition of Santa Claus and palm trees never fails to amuse: it's an in-between time that can't settle, and he hates that. There isn't even the slow progression of melting snow to like. It's just a pain in the ass.
On the spring mornings when he wakes up with Mik (when they've been drinking or editing, mostly, and between girlfriends when they fall into bed just from pure boredom or horniness or excitement over a deal or any one of a thousand other reasons) he hates it a bit less. Schuyler hates everything a bit less when he's been laid - doesn't everybody really? - but it's also that Mik genuinely likes spring; he opens the windows and wanders around the apartment with nothing but Spongebob boxers on, whistling Beach Boys tunes transposed to an off-kilter Russian scale and drinking double-strength coffee.
The pollen is a little easier to deal with then. Schuyler just pops a Claritin and lies in bed, imagining what it would be like if everybody had a Volga and if the swell is any good on the Baltic Sea.
On the spring mornings when he wakes up with Mik (when they've been drinking or editing, mostly, and between girlfriends when they fall into bed just from pure boredom or horniness or excitement over a deal or any one of a thousand other reasons) he hates it a bit less. Schuyler hates everything a bit less when he's been laid - doesn't everybody really? - but it's also that Mik genuinely likes spring; he opens the windows and wanders around the apartment with nothing but Spongebob boxers on, whistling Beach Boys tunes transposed to an off-kilter Russian scale and drinking double-strength coffee.
The pollen is a little easier to deal with then. Schuyler just pops a Claritin and lies in bed, imagining what it would be like if everybody had a Volga and if the swell is any good on the Baltic Sea.
no subject
no subject
no subject
Also, Mik is adorable in this. And their reasons for sleeping together are pretty ace.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject