Heat week, it seemed, was upon them again and Taryn was feeling that particular itch with frustration. Fortunately, he knew he could always hang out with Manny. And Manny, thankfully, would match his mood. Or so he hoped as he made his way up to the apartment after Manny had gotten him rented. As he waited outside the door, he bounced on his feet feeling the need rise up through his belly before the door opened. Without thinking, he pulled the other close by the waistband and pulled him in for a kiss that left no doubts about where the heat was leaving Taryn.
“Hey....”
@mannythejaguar
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Gideon sat at his desk trying to respond to emails from others regarding the most recent disparaging news. Murder in a synagogue of all things. How lucky some were to be experiencing the heat. They could easily be distracted from the bigger things going on. As his office door opened, Gideon’s eyes glanced upwards from his typing, though he continued to write the email hoping whatever it was that was being brought to him, or whomever, it was something that could be dealt with quickly. “If you’re in need of something, you can leave word on my desk. Unless it is dire. In that case, state your business. If I can help, I shall. If it’s about the damned heat... well, nature wins out all else I suppose.”
@krovscastlestarters
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location: outdoor pool
Aside from the staff collar Mateo had to wear, heat week suppressants were the best thing Krovs had given the thunderbird. It was a relief to still be able to go to work and not feel the uncontrollable urge to fuck or be fucked and he got to skip the fever and everything else. He was pretty good about remembering to take them, as well, having gotten some from Florian at the beginning of the week. Twice a day, with breakfast and dinner. It was easy enough and the symptoms didn't start to show up as long as he was regular about when he ate.
The problem today, however, was that he'd gotten too absorbed in the book he'd been reading, and absently snacked rather than eaten dinner and it was only when the fever started that he realised the mistake he'd made. Dammit. It was late evening and he wasn't all that hungry, given the snacking, so there seemed nothing for it but have to suffer through until the morning dose. It wasn't like there weren't a lot of options at Krovs but Mateo always felt bad about just...accosting people. He wouldn't be any use at work and there were still a few hours of sunlight so he compromised and headed to one of the outdoor pools, the cool water refreshing against his skin. It was only a matter of time until someone approached and he smiled up at them, a little strained. "Come on in, the water's fine. Fair warning, though, I'm in heat so...if that's not something you're interested in I understand."
@krovscastlestarters
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Beat the Heat
For my first entry, I'd like to thank @searchingforserendipity25 for the amazing DaeMags Prompt.
Not included, Faeron the demon-spawn lol
Words: 710
Characters: Daeron x Maglor
Prompt: Beat the Heat
Warnings: Nudity, sexual innuendo
Daeron stared at his unexpected visitor in disbelief.
"How do you even bear this heat?" Maglor groaned, wiping a ridiculously ornate handkerchief across his fair brow.
Cocking his head, Daeron smirked at the sight of the heavy robes and the beautiful but entirely impractical layers covering and restraining that glorious body he so adored.
The mighty singer, if one was to ask him, was disarmingly cute when he was whining, especially when his grievances were as frivolous and easily remedied as his present gripe.
Even beneath the canopy of the dense trees of his native forest, the sweltering summer heat could not be outrun or avoided, but Daeron was comparatively unfazed by circumstances he was so deeply familiar with.
"Well," he smiled as he pulled his own light tunic over his head resolutely, "I can show you what we usually do when it gets too hot to breathe."
The unconvinced expression on the distinctly Ñoldorin face only stoked the fire of his own enthusiasm, putting even the blazing sun overhead to shame with its intensity.
Maglor’s brows knit in confusion before his eyes lit up with undisguised curiosity.
"That's what you get for wanting to parade around like the little prince you are," Daeron laughed provocatively and discarded his worn leggings as well before padding cautiously towards the edge of the lazy river noiselessly. “The Blessed Realm must be quite a place if everyone dresses up like that with no regard for their physical comfort and safety.”
"I don't..." Looking down at his brother's handiwork, Maglor bit back the rest of his useless protestation. "I am sorry if I've left my more casual wear in my drawer when I set out for a potentially lethal quest."
Chuckling melodiously to himself, Daeron merely shook his head in quiet amusement.
Despite their consistent squabbling and impassionate fights, he liked Maglor and felt oddly honoured to be allowed to see behind the façade of the ever-stolid, hardened warrior and prince Fëanor’s second son generally presented to the people within the Girdle.
"Come here, Prince of Princes," he invited, extending a broad, tanned hand trustingly. "Lay off the burden of your station and your name, and join me in the purifying waters of the ever-young waters blessed by Ulmo himself."
"Bathing?" Maglor scoffed. He had expected a secret ritual involving rare, undiscovered plants and maybe even a few incantations as Daeron seemed so much closer and more intimately bonded to the fertile earth he lived and thrived upon.
The idea that his best remedy to the oppressive, asphyxiating heat was to simply throw himself into the cool river was almost disappointing.
At the very instant that thought crossed his mind and made his brow furrow in dismay, his gaze fell on the mesmerising skin—dappled by specks of sunlight filtering through the trees—of his host and all his misgivings subsided instantly.
“I wonder what they’ve taught you in that tree-lit paradise of yours,” Daeron commented sharply as he floated on his back on a clement current, “if you don’t even know that these garments—beautiful as they might be—are hardly appropriate for a summer day over here.”
A thousand replies came to Maglor’s outraged and rather vexed mind—they had not known and, moreover, had had no reason to even think about the meteorological conditions of a far-away world—but as he saw the peaceful expression on Daeron’s face, his desire to shed the stifling layers of heavy brocade took precedence over his irrepressible need to defend his honour.
“Go ahead,” Daeron grinned, getting to his feet again, “you may call me an ignorant savage now, but, tell me dearest Kanafinwë, is this not better?”
Maglor swallowed heavily. Rivulets of pure, cold water ran down the mesmerizingly broad expanse of Daeron’s chest and his wide stance let the young prince divine every curve and dip of his body through the shimmering, translucent veil of the river.
For some unfathomable reason, this hint and promise of nudity was more titillating and entrancing to him than the sight of Daeron’s bare flesh, stretched out on a carpet of soft grass.
“It’s…perfect. And so are you,” Maglor admitted and dove through the blessedly cool floods to embrace this paragon of ancient magic and sublime comfort.
@fellowshipofthefics Here's my submission for the first week of the July Summer Fics.
Lots of love from me!
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