Work Text:
Hot
by Alex Hogan
The sweat trickled down his face as he lay on my bed, casually reading a sports magazine. I leant over and touched the drip.
"What ya doing?"
"You're sweating."
"It's hot in here."
"Yeah, I know. I'll get a fan," and I headed into the next room to retrieve it, licking my finger secretly as I did so.
"You want a towel?" I asked and threw it to him as I set up the fan.
"Na," and he wiped the sweat off his face with his hand, then wiped his hand on the pillow next to him. I stared at it; the invisible drop of sweat seeping into my pillow, leaving his scent for me to breathe in all night after he was gone and I was alone.
"Shit, it's hot," he said, as he flipped through the mag.
"Yeah." I directed the fan onto him, then set it on swivel. It swung around past him and I watched its breeze ruffle his hair.
"Thanks mate. What about you?" He casually glanced my way.
"Ohâ€"I'm OK."
"Aren't you hot? Come sit over here so you can get the fan too."
"That's OK. Maybe I'll be too close, and our body heat will...you know...be too hot."
"No it won't. God! You won't be that bloody close."
So I moved over, close to him, but not too close. Far enough away so our auras couldn't mix, so we stayed as two separate men, living two separate lives.
I sighed.