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“Godamn,” Warren exhaled, beginning to untie his tie. He quickly decided that wasn’t fast enough and just loosened it, letting it hang around his neck as he unbuttoned his shirt. He dropped his briefcase and stumbled over to the kitchen, opening the freezer and blindly grabbing a ziplock bag of frozen rice. He could swear he heard his skin sizzle as he pressed it to the back of his neck. Sighing in relief, he closed the freezer: only to jump out of his wings as Scott was suddenly right there.
His dearly beloved boyfriend was in nothing but boxer briefs and those stupid square glasses that made him look 20 years older than he was. A wet rag draped around his shoulder dripped rivulets of water down his body. Warren would be inclined to watch them travel if it wasn’t so goddamn hot. But the fact that Scott was walking around mostly naked was, unfortunately, a sign of the times, and not an early birthday present.
“I’m gonna die.” Scott said surely. Warren laughed breathily, extending a wing to try to pull him into a hug. Scott’s face curled as he dug the heels of his hands into Warren's body, locking him an arm’s length away.
“ What!” Warren said, offended. Scott pushed away.
“It’s too hot, I'm melting,” he panted. “ I’m two seconds away from getting my tools and fixing the AC myself. Where's bobby when you need him?”
“Please don’t,” Warren chuckled. “I think Jean would kill us if we lost our security deposit.”
Scott groaned unhappily and went to the sink to refresh his rag. The air conditioning had crapped out a week ago, and the landlord had said he’d "get someone to fix it by the end of next week". That agreement was fine a week ago because a week ago it wasn’t as hot as Johnny Storm’s balls outside. Warren threw his tie into the living room and unbuttoned his shirt more. He was starting to understand why Scott had stripped to his skivvies. He had taken the air-conditioned car ride home for granted.
Scott had turned on the tap to re-wet his rag, and gave in to the temptation of putting his entire head underneath it. Warren briskly walked past him to lose the stuffy pants of his suit in the bedroom.
“You’re dramatic,” he scoffed, even as he definitely wanted a wet cloth for himself. Scott grumbled something about being sensitive to heat.
“Put the rice back if you’re not using it!” Scott yelled over the sound of the sink. Warren rolled his eyes and grabbed a towel from the laundry hamper.
“Right away, your highness,” he sassed, draping the towel over Scott for when he decided he didn’t want to get water all over the kitchen floor. The offer was accepted graciously when Scott turned off the sink and violently rubbed his head. Warren scoffed at his technique.
“And you wonder why your hair never curls properly.” He said. He couldn’t see his eyes fully, but he didn’t need to for scott to shoot him and unhappy glare. He scrunched a few times, adding a snarky “happy?” and throwing the towel to Warren.
“Thrilled.”
Warren replaced the now no longer frozen solid rice with an ice pack that Jean used for her lunches, following a skulking Scott to the couch.
Scott had the ceiling fan on full blast, along with a small portable fan that wasn’t doing anything. Warren draped himself on the cushions, legs in Scott’s lap. Scott pushed them off.
“‘S’too hot, Angel.” He reminded. Warren huffed, twisting around so he was on his back, taking up most of the couch. His wings smushed awkwardly, one pressed against the back of the couch sticking up and the other flopping to the floor. His head fell next to Scott’s thigh, blond hair just barely brushing tan skin.
“Even for me?” he asked with a dramatic pout. Scott raised his eyebrows.
“Especially for you. Hey,you think if you flapped your wings you could get a breeze going?”
“Wooow. Is that all I am to you?” Warren asked in mock-offense. Scott hummed.
“Maybe if it was a little cooler I could be persuaded to entertain you.”
Warren leaned over to nip at his knee gently.
“How much cooler?”
“How much cooler can you make it?”
Warren was about to find a way to oblige his request when the front door opened and Jean came in. She had already rolled the sleeves of her shirt up and was working on getting her pantyhose off as she came into the living room, swooping down to place a kiss on Scott's head as he leaned backwards over the arm of the couch.
“Good afternoon, I absolutely refuse to let anyone in this house turn on the stove, so we're going out for dinner.” She half-joked. Warren snorted.
“Seconded.”
“Thirded. Are there any dinner foods that are cold?” Scott asked idly. Jean disappeared into the bedroom to change.
“Sandwiches?” Warren replied.
“We should get ice cream!” Jean called. Warren and Scott both hummed loudly in approval, alternating tapping their foreheads and pointing toward the bedroom.
“She’s so smart,” Warren said, obviously.
“ She's so smart,” Scott replied. Jean reentered in a tank top, shorts, and a smile.
“Somebody’s got to be.” She settled on the couch, leaning against the opposite armrest. With her feet, she nudged Warren’s legs open so she could extend her own between them. She leaned over and grabbed a discarded piece of junk mail from the coffee table, beginning to fold it into an accordion shape.
“If we’re gonna get food then Scott should probably put some clothes on.” She pointed out.
“I disagree.” Warren replied, reaching his arms over his head and letting his hands wander. Scott grumbled unhappily and swatted them away.
“I told you it was too hot,” he said. Warren rolled his eyes.
“I was barely even touching you,” he pointed out. “How could my hands be so hot that I can’t even touch you,” he complained.
“Warren,” Jean laughed.
“What! I feel like it’s a perfectly reasonable question!”
“How could my hands-” she mocked in a nasally voice. Scott snorted. Warren sat up and swatted at her shoulder.
“Oh shut it!” he laughed. Jean’s shoulder shook as she bit her lip. She leaned over, past Warren.
“Here, I made you a fan, Scott.” she offered the paper she had been folding to him. He sat up slightly and took it , pinching it at the base.
“Thanks, hun.” he didn’t waste any time to put it into use.
“I want a fan.” Warren pouted.
“You have wings, use those,” she teased.
“That's what I was saying earlier and he got all pissy-” Scott declared
“-I did not get pissy!”
Jean chuckled, leaning back to crack her back and grabbing her phone from her pocket as the boys bickered.
“We were thinking sandwiches, right?” she asked, typing something into the map. Warren shrugged, making himself comfortable in a sitting position and taking Jean’s legs into his lap, massaging her calf.
“ Scott just wants something cold.” He explained. Jean hummed.
“That definitely limits our options.”
“I don’t really care that much, just nothing spicy, please,” Scott added. Jean nodded.
“There's a Greek restaurant a few blocks away,”
“I could slam a Gyro right now.” Warren stated, “ 5 seconds flat.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” Jean glanced at him. “Scott?”
“I dream of lemon Orzo pasta.” Scott replied, deadpan.
“Greek it is then. Alright, up you go, go get dressed. She reluctantly removed her legs from Warren's lap and amazing massage, swung them over to the floor and stood. The boys were more sluggish, but eventually Warren got up, taking his ice pack back to the freezer.
“Wait, Jeanie, weren’t you and Wanda going clubbing tonight?” Scott asked, still sprawled on the couch. Jean looked up from her phone.
“Avenger mission that I definitely do not know is happening,” Jean said sarcastically. "We had to cancel." Scott frowned in sympathy, though there was a hint of disgust in the curl of his nose.
“ How come we never go clubbing?” Warren asked as he reentered the room. Scott finally got up, stretching out his arms and legs with a groan, leaving behind a spot on the couch from his damp hair and rag.
“I’m too old for clubbing.” He said, sluggishly walking to the bedroom to put some clothes on. He leaned down to peck Jean on the cheek. She smiled and turned so he got her lips instead. She hooked her thumbs in the elastic of his boxers, pulling away.
“I think you should walk around like this more often.” She told him. He snorted.
“ I’ll keep that in mind.”
It didn’t take long for both Warren and Scott to get themselves changed into the least stifling clothes they owned. Jean was already waiting with the keys when they came out of the bedroom, still bickering about something or other. Without really thinking about it, she lightly kicked the AC on their way out the front door. It rumbled to life.
“Oh hell yeah!” Warren said in surprise. Scott let out a huge sigh of relief.
“Thank goodness.” He said.
“ So... no ice cream?” Jean asked, holding the door open for them all.
“Don’t even joke about that kind of thing, Jean.” Warren said gravely. Jean grinned as she shut and locked the door behind them.