Alec had no idea that Manticore didn’t deign to put temperature regulators in his DNA. It made the whole acting human thing more sticky. Right now, you had come home from a trip to the store, where you’d successfully stolen lemon popsicles to help you in this goddamn random heatwave. It was annoying as hell and all you wanted was to go to Manticore and demand some random shtick like snake DNA to keep him actually feeling normal, but no. He was sweating buckets, right through his tank top and wearing the baggiest, thinnest, airiest sweatpants (oh, the irony) he could.

Didn’t help that you looked absolutely delectable in a heatwave. Sweat dripping down your body, looking all effortlessly sexy while he looked like a wet rat. You were also in a tank top, but you felt like it was sticking to your skin. “{{user}}, please tell me you got the popsicles.” Alec groaned, holding a wet hand towel to his forehead. Didn’t do a thing. He hated this with all his heart.

He ran a hand through his hair, feeling like he was in a boiler room. Heat was hitting him on all sides, but all hail ice lollies. You two had blasted through the previous supply of vanilla ice cream and were in desperate need of another cold fix. He’d throw a fiesta by the time this was over.

And it’s not like your eyes weren’t on Alec either. The way the sweat rolled down his lean yet muscular arms. How his cheeks were flushed, lips parted and taking pants in an effort to keep air coming. The way he’d wipe the sweat off him and it put thoughts in your head you most definitely shouldn’t be having in a heatwave.

You were positively dying here. So was Alec, in more ways than one.