#gonna be honest i think it's funny that i started crossposting with this summer fic when. its fall. but anyway i forgot how fluffy this was

[infinites-chaser]

just a summer thing (ao3) | mlqc | gavin/mc | domestic fluff

MC and Gavin brave the summer heat.

When the power goes out at approximately five minutes to three on what's bound to be the hottest summer afternoon Loveland City's ever seen, MC wants to stomp her foot. The only thing stopping her is the rational and more than a little lazy realization that moving would only make the heat worse.

She settles for a huff, but then regrets that, too. Even her breath's too warm to stand— she's sure the outside temperature's close to a human's melting point, and inside isn't much better. The air just sits and stews and stews.

If she were in a better mood, she would think the situation a little similar to how her favorite dim sum are made— being inside right now certainly makes her feel sorry for all the baozi she's ever ordered. Being steamed alive, she decides, would be the worst way to die. Probably. Especially now, since the loss of electricity not only takes out her rationed AC, it kills her fan, too.

She flaps a hand at her face, but it only serves to remind her of just how sweaty she'd somehow gotten in the five minutes since the power had gone out.

For a moment, she debates sticking her head in the fridge, but then reason returns: logically, the power could come back at any moment, and even if it doesn't, the precious cold is better served keeping her food from spoiling in the meantime. Besides. She really, really doesn't want to move. And—

Heedless of MC's internal agonizing, Gavin sleeps facedown on the sofa, still somehow in his denim jacket and jeans. She tries not to sigh too loudly as she casts a look at his relaxed side profile, eyes closed, normally furrowed brow smoothed out.

The STF had been swamped with work until the night before and he'd been out investigating again just that morning. It's very probable that this nap is the most sleep he's gotten since the start of the case. She doesn't want to disturb him— especially not if he's going to wake up to her, her head stuck halfway in the freezer, which would no doubt merit a short lecture and an endless amount of teasing.

She instead tries to focus on the report open on her laptop, but all staring does is make the words swim across her vision, little fishes frolicking in the building waves of heat. She sighs. Again. Her laptop closes with a gentle click.

As if alerted by the sound of her annoyance, Gavin's brow visibly furrows.

"What's wrong?"

The sleepy question is addressed to and muffled by the couch pillows his head's sandwiched between, and despite her bad mood, MC laughs.

"Nothing's wrong. Go back to sleep."

Stretching a hand out, she flicks the only reachable part of him-- his denim-clad elbow. Before she can pull back safely, his wrist snaps out and he's captured her offending hand, winding his fingers through hers.

"You're warm," he mumbles. "Hand's all sweaty."

He doesn't let go. Admittedly, it's more than a little nice to hold his hand after barely seeing him all week, but the warmth of his hand— that's also taken hold deep in her chest and set her cheeks aflame— grows from pleasant to uncomfortable to nearly unbearable over the course of a minute.

She frees her hand with a pout. Gavin raises his head a heartbeat later, hair rumpled, eyes bleary. He blinks a few times, running a hand self-consciously through his hair (MC won't ever say it, but it makes it worse, somehow, in the most adorable way), then his eyes focus as they settle on her. A boyish smile tugs at his lips.

"Good morning?"

Her cheeks warm again. There's something intimate about seeing him like this— just woken up, his first words to her, his eyes fixing on her first, before anything else— it makes her heart beat faster, makes her duck her head even though they're far beyond shyness by now.

"Hey—" he starts, low and tender, and she leans toward him almost unconsciously, a sunflower bending to the sun (though really, she'd rather not think of the sun considering the heat).

But, then:

"Isn't that fan normally on?"

She nods, taking his distraction as a chance to recover from her growing blush.

"Power outage. I didn't want to wake you, though— I thought it'd come back on if I waited long enough."

His brow furrows again.

"That's why you were so warm."

The fan starts spinning again before she can respond, and, oh, she thinks instead of protesting, the cool air's heaven, almost better than ice cream, it washes over her, and she can feel her limbs lighten and her head clear, it's the most wonderful feeling, and a smile spreads across her face before she can help it.

When she seems satisfied with the cool, he takes her hands in his and pulls her close, buries his face in her hair as she lets out a surprised squeak. The breeze wraps around them, enveloping them in their own personal pocket of air conditioning.

"You— " she begins, half 'what am I going to do with you,' half just plain fond. He grins, trying to make his eyes innocent and wide, but there's no hiding the mischief in his voice when he replies,

"What else am I supposed to do if it's too hot to do this?"

He leans in and catches her lips, gentle and lingering. When he pulls away from the kiss to take a breath, still grinning, she makes a fondly exasperated noise, hooks her arms around his neck, and pulls him back in for another.

This time, she's warm for all the right reasons.