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“Stan? Stan?” Xeno’s voice crackled over the communicator. “Do you read me?”
“Loud and clear,” Stanley said, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips.
“Excellent!”
Stanley sparked a match and lit his cigarette before waving the match in the air to blow it out. “Well,” he said, “now what?”
“Now what?” Xeno repeated incredulously. “Talk to me, Stan! We’ve been friends for millennia and you think now is the time to skimp on conversation?”
Stanley rolled his eyes. Xeno sure did love being dramatic. “I know, but you got your results already. What more do you want?” he asked.
Stanley loved helping Xeno out with his experiments and testing out his inventions, but winter had just started and Stanley was freezing his ass off. Xeno had made him travel a considerable distance to really test the limits of the telephone, so he’d imagined he’d been out in the cold for at least forty minutes by now.
San Francisco was considerably warmer than a majority of the country this time of year, but that didn’t stop Stanley from getting goosebumps. Even in his warm winter coat and gloves crafted for him by Luna’s goons, Stanley couldn’t help but feel a bit chilly.
“This communication line will be useless to us if it doesn’t work properly. I want to see if it holds up for calls longer than a minute,” Xeno explained. “The only way to find out is by carrying on a conversation, so speak to me. Besides, it’s been years since we’ve talked like this. Aren’t you feeling a bit nostalgic?”
Before shit hit the fan, Stanley and Xeno would go months without seeing each other. Sometimes even more than a year due to the nature of Stanley’s job. Special ops was always busy and he barely ever got a break between assignments.
That was to say that the only means of communication he had with Xeno were via snail mail, e-mail, video chat, or, most often, phone calls. They got up to many things on the phone. They caught up, complained about work, cracked jokes, and quite frequently, messed around a little bit. Talking dirty over the phone was a bit cliche, but it was the closest they could get to getting any action, so they made due.
A devious grin stretched across Stanley’s face. If his winter gear couldn’t keep him warm, maybe making the line hot would.
“Yeah,” Stanley agreed, but his feeling of nostalgia was far from being as sentimental as Xeno’s was. “What’re you wearing?” he asked, lowering his voice like he was trying to keep quiet even though he was alone. It wasn’t about being quiet, it was about creating the atmosphere.
Xeno began to laugh over the line. “Stanley!” he said with faux outrage.
“What?” Stanley said innocently. “You were thinking it.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“You wanted to talk, right? I’m talking. What’re you wearing?” he repeated. “Actually, wait, don’t tell me. I want to guess.”
Stanley already knew what Xeno was wearing since he had seen him before he left. Xeno was bundled up in the control room with a heavy jacket paired with a scarf and gloves to try to combat the winter chill. But that was the magic of the telephone. Stanley could imagine anything he wanted and believe anything Xeno wanted him to.
“I’d love to hear what you come with,” Xeno snickered.
“I can picture it,” Stanley said, whispering in a sultry tone. “You’re in nothing but boxers with that lab coat of yours overtop. Just one button coming loose would reveal every inch of you. Every inch except the ones that matter the most anyway.”
“Hmm…” There was a sound of rustling that rubbed against the communicator.
“W-What are you doing?” Stanley asked, wondering if Xeno was actually getting into it.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Stan,” Xeno teased. “I’m just checking out my outfit. Your imagination is truly impressive, but you were wrong.”
“Got something better for me?”
Xeno sighed into the phone. “You are something else. Well, it got a bit hot in here while I was waiting for you to call, so I took off my coat.”
“Oh, really?” Stanley whispered.
“I stripped down as much as I could to escape the heat. The only things I have on are my slacks and dress shirt and if I’m being honest, these flimsy little buttons are making me a little nervous… And you know what, Stan?”
A shiver went up his spine. “What?” he asked breathlessly, his cigarette barely managing to stay on his lip.
“I was thinking, what if someone were to come in here and find me like this?” Xeno thought worriedly. “I’m so weakened from this heat that I’d fall into the arms of anyone that came by and let them have their way with me right here in the control room.”
Stanley took a drag of his cigarette, imagining the picture Xeno was trying to paint. Him, rushing into the control room like a man on a mission. Xeno, already there waiting for him and hot under the collar. Stanley had been joking at the start, but he couldn’t help it. Everything Xeno said to him went straight to his—
Xeno’s wild laugh barked through the speaker, ripping Stanley out of the illusion. “How was that?” he asked in a cheery tone.
“Oh, for fuck’s safe, Xeno!” Stanley yelled, startled by the laughter.
“What? Oh, you were serious?” Xeno replied playfully.
“You’re such a bastard.” Stanley ripped his cigarette out of his mouth and threw it on the ground, stomping it out. “Are we done?” he asked impatiently. “I think the line is working just fine.”
“Yes. You can make your way back now. Be careful with the equipment,” Xeno reminded him.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“And Stan?”
“What?"
“Dr. Brody needs your assistance putting the finishing touches on the new plane. Stop by the garage when you get back.”
Stanley could almost hear Xeno's shit-eating grin through the speaker. It was just like Xeno to try to rub it in his face. Stanley shook his head before cutting the line and packing up the communicator.