Chapter Text
John woke up drenched in sweat. A hot mass was draped over him, and this only increased the quickly becoming unbearable temperature of the bedroom.
"Alex," He grumbled, pushing the boiling body off his own. "Get the fuck off me. 'S too hot."
Alex rolled away, groaned theatrically.
"Why isn't the a/c on?"
"Alexander, we don't have a/c."
Alex kept rolling, and with an unceremonial thump, fell from the bed and landed on the wooden floor.
"And why, in the name of all that is good and true and holy, do we not have a/c?" He asked from the ground. "I'm gonna die of heat stroke."
John sat up and peeled his drenched shirt off.
"Is it cooler down there?" He asked.
"Sort of. It's kinda a placebo effect. 'Heat rises' 'n shit."
"Good enough for me." John rolled off the bed and lay eagle spread on the ground, sighing as the cool wood touched his back. It was silent for a while. John watched the fan above them spin, cursing its futility. When he turned, Alex had again closed his eyes. John wasn't surprised; Alex had a knack for being able to sleep anywhere. This is why he was surprised when Alex said:
"John?"
"Yeah?"
"I can't sleep."
"Yeah, me neither."
"Too hot."
"Yeah." He agreed.
"Fire escape?"
"Yeah."
Alex scrambled up, stretched, (John got a lovely view of a sweat stain on his back) then went to the corner of their room and opened the window. He stepped through, and John followed.
He found his boyfriend dangling his bare feet off the ledge, resting his chin on the railing. Sirens were blaring in the distance. Cars were honking at each other, and in the apartment directly across from them, a couple was fighting animatedly in their living room window. Four stories down, a few kids were walking home from parties and night clubs, drunkenly singing Broadway tunes . There was a small, cool breeze (off the Hudson, maybe?) blowing. Alex patted the metal next to him, and John clambered down. It was silent save for the raucus that was New York, but John didn't think of it as nuisance as he did when he first arrived three years ago. Rather, white noise. Calming, soothing.
Alex braided John's sweaty mop, humming softly as he did so.
"You need a haircut, mi querido." Alex said as he ran his fingers through the curls.
"Yeah." John said. He reached up and patted the top of his head. Alex had decided to French braid, good. "It's too hot for long hair. I'm thinking short sides, longer top."
"Long as you keep the curls." Alex said absently. He finished the braid and kissed the top of Alex's head. He leaned forward over the railing, looking at all the busy streets below. John caught a few words of the song he was singing, something about a war and an unborn child.
"What're you up to tomorrow?" John asked.
"I've got class at nine, then I'm at the kid's center till five." Alex said.
"Yeah? What's going on at the center?"
"The kids wrote a play, we're starting to practice it. They said they wanted it done in time for Eliza's birthday so they could perform it for her."
"Sounds fun. I'll have to see the final performance."
Alex hummed in agreement.
"I love those little guys." He said softly.
John laughed and nudged him gently with his shoulder.
"You're great with them, too. You're gonna be a great dad someday."
"Hope so." Alex took John's hand and squeezed it. They sat for a few more minutes, silently sitting above the energy and noise of the streets.
"You hear 'bout the foreign affairs committee in the House?" Alex asked.
"Yeah," John said. "They're 'bout ready to declare war on Syria."
"And name Washington as head of the campaign."
"You think he'd come out of retirement? I always thought he liked teaching more than the Army." John asked.
"As much as I'm a delight to have in class-" John snorted, and Alex kicked him. "- and a fucking delight to have around in general, he'd probably stop teaching and go back." Alex said.
They talked for a while more. The conversation died down quickly, and they looked around the city quietly. When Alex's head began to droop half an hour later, John got up and shook him gently.
"C'mon, let's get to bed. We can leave the window open, yeah?" Alex groaned and took the proffered hand up. They climbed back through the window. John threw the hot blankets on the ground and flung himself back onto the sheets.
"Alex," John warned. "Don't you dare come near with your sweaty ass, me entiendes?"
Alex laughed and climbed onto the bed. He leaned over and kissed his boyfriend's forehead.
"Entiendo."