Hot

This was hell. It was the hottest day of the year: June 21st. In Nevada. The absolute worst time for their air conditioner to stop working. 100 degree heat. One Hundred Freaking Degrees! In freaking NEVADA! Soul had called the emergency services, and it had seemed like it was taking hours for the repairman to come. Bastards probably couldn't get up off their own couch, out of their nice air-conditioned homes. Soul groaned; he was jealous. He resisted the urge to take off his boxers: Maka was still here. Maka! She was the solution to most of his problems and he knew that she would be the perfect solution to this one. Her hands were always soooo cold. It was why he had insisted on her wearing gloves. There was nothing else so off-putting as Maka's cold hands against his heated body in the heat of battle. It messed up his tempo. So she wore gloves, but her hands were perfect for this situation. He opened the door to her room, seeing her facing away from him typing away at her computer, earbuds in her ears. He crept up behind her and grabbed her cold hands with his hot ones. He practically

"Soul! Hey! You're hot!" He moved her hands to his forehead, sighing with the relief that it brought. He brought her hands to the back of his neck. Then back around.

"SOul! Get my hands off of your chest!" Then down to his abs.

"Well," she says breathlessly, "I don't mind this, but…"

Ring.

"Oh, Soul, that must be the A/C Repairman"

"Perfect timing." Soul groans.

A/N- Thanks for Reading!