The first thought in his head during the heat of the moment is — ‘Holy hell, am I dreaming?’ — unfortunately, the second thought was — ‘Here lies Jonathan Lowell Spencer Storm, who passed away at the hands of his brother-in-law in retaliation for stealing the Fantasti-Car.’

His mind screeched to a halt as scorching hands slipped underneath the cool white cotton of his shirt. The contrast left him gasping, everything swirling into a blur with each desperate press of lips; hints of syrupy soda, cherry chapstick, and the sharp smell of salt air. Underneath it all, was the spicy note of a summer romance that threatened to burn down anything in the aftermath of its wake.

Their lips parted with a wet, audible pop.

“…That was….wow,” Johnny managed, wiping his face with the back of his hand, breathless from being kissed within an inch of his life. “…Do you wanna do that again?” His fingers drummed an aimless rhythm against his side before sneaking up the curve of his date’s jeans. He leaned back against the driver’s side door with a giddy, boyish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth — pulling them almost impossibly closer together within the cramped front seat of the sedan.

God, he’s a love-struck idiot— the usual suave and charming Human Torch had been replaced with an imposter. Granted, one that was still devastatingly handsome. But there’s something magical about the two of them floating above Coney Island’s Ferris wheel in the air tonight, and it’s thrown him off his balance entirely.

“Or,” he adds, stomach lurching at the pretty sight of his new flame illuminated by the pier’s shining night lights. “I can park the car. We can explore the boardwalk. The aquarium’s not really much, but Pickles the Seal is really cute. And then maybe we can…”

He was interrupted by the press of soft lips against his again—any remaining words were eagerly swallowed down as he practically melted into a pile of goo—this adventure’s probably an emerging contender on his ‘Top Ten Best Ways to Die’ list.

The spell between them isn’t ending anytime soon. Not if he has a say in it. For now, it’s just them and the sound of ocean waves and the heat of the season. And that’s more than enough, because he knows better than to ask for more.