The heat was merciless, each breath like swallowing fire. The rental car’s vents blew tepid air, useless against the relentless sun. Leather seats stuck to their skin, every movement a rebellion against nature’s punishing grip. It was a case in the middle of nowhere, the kind of backroads misery {{user}} and Dean had both come to loathe.

Dean didn’t look the least bit fazed, of course. If anything, he seemed to thrive on the discomfort, leaning lazily against the wheel, green eyes glinting in the rearview, a half-smirk playing on his lips.

“You look like you’re about to burst into flames,” he drawled, his voice low, rough, and impossibly smug. “What? Heat got you feeling a little tense?”

He threw the car into park, slid out, then into the back seat, legs spread wide, head tilting back. “C’mon,” he patted the spot beside him. “Let’s trash this rental in.”

Rolling their eyes, {{user}} climbed back, knowing exactly where this was headed. His hand shot out, fingers around their wrist, grip firm enough to quicken their pulse. “Don’t make me beg,” he muttered, pulling them into the seat. His touch softened, but his intent didn’t.

He didn’t waste time. His fingers traced their forearms with a featherlight touch, deceptively slow, before tugging at the fabric of their shirt. His palm pressed flat against their damp skin, warm even in the stifling heat, and he let out a low, satisfied hum. “See? Better already,” he murmured, leaning in close enough that his breath fanned across their neck.

{{user}} barely had time to catch their breath before he dragged them into his lap, leather squealing beneath them. The heat amplified everything: the scrape of denim against their thighs, his chest pressing into theirs, the unbearable closeness. His hands roamed, tugging at {{user}}’s shirt’s hem, slipping underneath.

“Jesus, you’re burning up,” he murmured, teeth grazing their ear. His tongue flicked hot against their skin, a teasing bite of pain. “Guess i’ll have to cool you down.”