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It's a sunny Sunday afternoon in August and it's so hot, Aesop swears that the world is starting to look a little like an impressionist painting. That, or it was the oncoming heat exhaustion. The tiny fan they've set up on their coffee table spins hopelessly, doing little else but stirring the thick, humid air.
He's sprawled on the couch, scummy junkmail tabloid in hand, fanning himself slowly, the title page screaming "Who Got Her Pregnant?!". He was not an avid reader of tabloids; though it appeared the last resident had been. They’d forgotten to cancel their subscription, and consequently, they received the Star Review, without fail, every Saturday. Eli didn’t seem to mind- Aesop had caught him once or twice with his nose buried in the latest issue.
But, he was grateful for it this once- it was at least keeping him cool. He shuts his eyes, partially to black out the screaming headlines, mostly to conserve what little energy he had left.
"Yes. I see. Well, that's lovely and all but-" Aesop hears as Eli emerges out of the kitchen. He begins to listen a little more intently. Eli gets cut off, and he can't hear what their super is saying- probably something that Eli didn't want to hear, because he heaves a defeated sigh when he hangs up.
"The supervisor said that the AC won't be sorted until tomorrow."
"I thought they were going to get it fixed today." The couch squeaks as Eli sits down on the end of it. Aesop nudges him lazily with his foot. Doesn’t even bother to open his eyes. "Go sit on the other couch."
"Mhm, I thought so too. But they said that the central air company was charging too much, they’re negotiating prices for the sake of the tenants, etcetera, etcetera." Eli moves closer to him, making room for himself on the couch, pushing Aesop’s legs aside in the process. “Interesting that you think you get to make demands when I pay half our rent.”
Aesop snorts.
“Funny. I also pay half the rent. So, it follows that, going by your logic, I own half the sofas in our set, and the one you’re sitting on is mi-” The sentence ends in a strangled yelp as Eli leans over and presses something ice fucking cold against his neck, causing him to shoot up in his seat.
“You’re as fussy as ever, dwtty . Have a soda.” Eli says with a crooked grin, promptly occupying the empty space next to him. Aesop only rolls his eyes, removing the soda can from where it was nestled in the crook of his neck, examining the label. Ginger ale. "Maybe it'll help cool your head."
“And you’re still an awful cheapshot.” The can opens with a snap and a hiss. Eli only circles his arms around Aesop’s waist, burying his face into his shoulder as a response. Aesop can feel his body heat seeping into him, like sunlight on his skin.
"Don't you think it's too hot for this?" Aesop asks, though he makes no move to get away from his embrace. He feels Eli shake his head, smiling against him.
“If I was ever worried about degrees of hotness, then I wouldn’t have ended up dating yo-” Aesop elbows Eli before he could even think about finishing his sentence. The tips of his ears burn. “You’re so-”
“Corny?” Eli’s only response is a laugh. “God, Aesop, you’re one to talk.”
“Am I, now?”
“Yes, yes you are.”
“No, no I’m not.” Aesop didn’t like where this was going. He sips slowly on his ginger ale, suddenly absorbed into the affairs of the Royal Family, Duchess Mary Something or Other, and the mystery origins of her sixth child. “Did you know that the Duchess has a sixth daughter now?”
“Stop trying to distract me- besides, practically everyone knows that it was her ex.”
“Her ex?” Aesop turns to look at Eli, genuinely caught off guard. “Isn’t her ex her cousin?”
“Cousin three times removed.” Eli gives him a look, arching an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you know. But, anyways-”
At this, Aesop resists the urge to cover his face with his hands. He can already feel the flush creeping up his neck, and this time, it wasn’t because of their broken AC. He wasn’t going to show weakness, not in front of Eli- otherwise, he would’ve already lost.
“Do you remember how you asked me out?”
He goes back to avoiding Eli’s gaze, staring at the floor.
“Can’t say I remember.”
“Well, I do. It was a day just like this, near the end of our summer term-” Aesop groans, but it doesn’t seem to deter Eli. In fact, it only seems to encourage him further.
“And you’ve come up to me, my anthro book on death rituals in hand, and a piece of paper flutters out of it. We both try to bend down to get it, and you’re so eager to grab it that you knock me in the head so hard that I-”
“That you passed out. I wish I had hit you harder.” Aesop was no longer interested in fighting a losing battle, and he buries his face into his hands.
“So, you do remember.”
“No. I don’t.” He’s lying through his teeth. He remembers it just as Eli was telling it, slight concussion and all. But Eli just keeps going, and at this point, it’s hopeless to stop him.
“Well, I’ll have to keep refreshing your memory, don’t I? So, after I come to the infirmary, you’re sitting next to the cot, staring at me like you’d just seen me come back from the dead. And somehow, in my hand, I still had that little slip of paper.”
“I wonder what it said.”
“It said…" He was stretching it out, for the drama of it all. Aesop makes a mental note to accuse him of being a theatre major later." I think it said, ‘Are you death-”
“Because I wish you would take me.” Aesop mumbles, finishing his sentence. At this point, he’s sure his face is entirely red. He still turns his head to meet Eli’s amused gaze. “You were never meant to see that.”
“Well, look where it got us.” Eli grins even wider. And well, when Aesop looked at that face of his, the way that he smiled at him like he was the world and the only thing in it, knew how to make his tea exactly the way he liked it, and-
“I don’t think you did half bad. But, that other time-”
Aesop kisses him, and he makes sure that Eli doesn’t even have a moment more to speak. And it seemed, that Eli was more than happy to oblige.