Submission (18+) | Oneshots

Summer Heat (18+)

•FIRST PERSON'S POV•

It's Zack and mine's least favorite season of year, summer. Everyday this week has been the same, still unbearably humid and stifling, even at night. Making my stoic and already less than sociable boyfriend, to my dismay, grumpier than usual.

We are alone in their family cabin because we decided to finish our homework here, away from the city's distracting noise. It's like our second home now because we frequently hangout here.

They rarely come here though, so it became our secret place to fool around sometimes.

And of course, the power got cut off in the most perfect time. Unfortunately, their cabin doesn't have any emergency lights or whatsoever, so we were stuck with candles for the meantime. Could you believe it?

The sticky night air provides no draft to Zack's room, as it teasingly whistles and rickets against the window panes, offering no relief. The sky a warm bath of electric indigo and midnight blue behind him, it's summer all right. Zack and I are sat at his desk, working on our homework together, ever so often I look up to admire the view of the window behind him, and of course, the view of the handsome and stormy man in front of it too.

But the heat is becoming too distracting, and the view is starting to irritate me the more it remains so sunnily and aggressively blue, a cooling color for such a hot night, not fitting at all.

I should've brought something useful for this stupid heat.

"Fuck it's still so hot, fuck! I'm sick of this!" I groan.

"Mouth, babe." he warns, lightly swiping the sweat from his forehead not wanting the silky strands resting on his temples to be dirtied.

"What about it? It's not like, you'll fix it." I laugh heartily to myself, fanning myself with a sheet of paper.

"Don't push it or you're out of this room." he snaps.

"No, I quite prefer it in here." I object, crossing my arms and pouting.

"Tch."

"It is fucking hot in there though, seriously! Wouldn't kill you to open a window would it?" I fume, everyone all of summers so far, has tried their hardest to avoid us both as much as possible, as we're both famous for being increasingly more irritable than usual, during these heated months. Both of our sexual urges are also famous, for being as relentless as the sun is this time of year too, the air is not only thick with uncomfortable dampness tonight, but also with both of our burning and unbridled sexual appetites.

"Language!" he threatens once more, but he stands up and forces open the window behind him to quiet my complaining.

"Now was that so hard." I smile sarcastically, he grunts in reply, rolling his eyes at me and snatching his pen back up in his fist.

"Is it so hard to not cuss every sentence?" We both know how much he loves my filthy mouth when we fuck, so cursing any other time makes him lose control, and that's exactly why he's so tickled by it and mostly why I do it.

I lean over the desk and grab his shirt, pulling his face to mine, "Carry on giving me orders and you'll be worrying about your own mouth." He gulps, his cheeks reddening as I jerk my hand from his collar making him snap back down into his seat dazedly.

"I suppose I forgot you only like me cursing when I'm teasing that desperate fucking manhood of yours." I spit, smirking to myself as I watch him stiffen opposite me, flustered by the complete and utter nonchalant delivery, of my filthy words.

He's gripping his pen so tight its near snapping, beads of sweat running faster down his burning skin, but doing little to cool him down, as he quickly grows aroused from the bold yet casual delivery of my crude words.