Things In-Between
Prompt #63: Summer


Officially, Brian hates summer. It's so hot that he can't think, he sweats all the time, he gets tired and cranky and, really, summer could just roll over and die for all he cares about it.

Except when he can relax. When he doesn't have to think when he can lie back and just soak in the heat. Then, unofficially, Brian loves summer a lot.

They're kicking back by the pool, lying on a thin blanket, and all Brian can think is hot. Hot. Hot. Steady as a heartbeat. It's so hot he can barely move. If he opens his eyes he can see heat waves float over him, over the water, everywhere. It feels good. For once, it feels really good.

The music they're listening to is slow it's in Spanish, so it's most likely Howie's. Languid, Brian thinks, and exhales as a soft breeze moves over them. Hot. Rhythmic. Slow. He can't get past thinking much else.

"Mmm." A low voice beside him hums. "Better eat that before it melts, Rok."

Brian turns his head and thinks, AJ. Right. He lifts his head and blinks blearily at the sharp light. His eyes focus on a bowl of ice cream sitting in front of him, blinks again and thinks, when? What? It's already starting to melt, forming a pool of white cream at the bottom of the bowl, and Brian slowly picks up the spoon lying next to it.

It's blissfully cold on his tongue, cold against his lips as he pulls the spoon back out. He licks the corner of his mouth and scoops up another mouthful. It's delicious. Perfect.

Before he knows it, the bowl is empty. His lips feel swollen from the cold, and when he licks over them there's still a trace of vanilla left. Sighing softly, he sets the bowl aside and rolls over on his back. Sweat makes his skin stick to the fabric underneath him. He sighs again, feeling more relaxed than he can remember being in a long time, and arches off the blanket a little. Stretches out slowly. So hot.

When he opens his eyes, AJ is staring at him, his jaw hanging slightly. "What?" Brian asks, squinting up at him.

AJ makes a low sound before he closes his mouth and clears his throat roughly. Brian frowns at him. AJ just shrugs. "It's hot," he rasps, as if that's an explanation. Brian closes his eyes again and hums in agreement. He feels heavy, like the heat is pushing him down and refusing to let him up. He's not planning on getting up anytime soon, anyway. "Need a dip in the pool or something?" he asks. He's so relaxed he almost slips into a thick drawl.

There's a moment of complete silence, and Brian thinks about nothing at all. "Or something," he hears AJ say, rough and heavy, "Jesus, you-"

Suddenly there's a new voice, calling, "sorry, sorry!" as it gets closer. Brian looks up and squints at the figure silhouetted by the sun. "Sorry," Howie says again and crouches down. "Had to take a phone call. Here you go." Ignoring AJ's amused snort, he hands out two of the three water bottles in his arms. Brian accepts one and smiles gratefully. Howie smiles back.

"Oh, that's nice," AJ breathes, and Brian has to agree. The water is ice cold, with condensation already forming on the bottle. He takes a moment to just hold it, then puts it up against his cheek and his forehead with a content sigh.

He looks at Howie again, who is apparently determined to down the whole bottle in one take. Brian watches Howie's head tip back as his throat works, faster and faster, and suddenly he has to swallow as well.

Something about heat always makes him think in brief flashes of images as well. Writhing bodies. Twining. Arching. Ragged breathing. But not often. Definitely not now. He closes his eyes again. Definitely not now.

There's a thin sheen of sweat all over his body. He arches off the blanket again, just a little, just to get the fabric to stop sticking to his skin. He settles a hand on his stomach, feels the slow rise as he inhales, and then moves it up. Just to brush over it once. Just to remember. He forgets about the scar unless he touches it. He doesn't see it when he looks in the mirror anymore, doesn't notice it unless someone points it out to him. But touching it the skin there is always so soft, softer than anywhere else on his body. He finds himself running light fingers over it, feeling the shape of it. It's just something he does sometimes. Just to remember.

There's something hovering over him suddenly, blocking the sun from him. Brian frowns as he opens his eyes, and just as he's about to tell whoever it is to get out of the way, please and thank you, he sees AJ looking down at him. Brian stops abruptly. There's no sun in his eyes now, so he can actually see AJ, and still he's not sure what it is exactly he sees. AJ's eyes flicker over him, although he looks to be mostly unaware of it Brian swallows and feels a bead of sweat run down his throat, which makes AJ start looking at that, and now Brian's sure the heat is getting to him because it looks like all AJ wants to do is lean down and lick--

"Sorry," AJ murmurs, and Brian exhales sharply. He couldn't have been leaning over him for more than a second. Brian feels ridiculous suddenly, and even more hot. "Just needed these." He reaches over Brian for his sunglasses, and Brian looks at the line of his jaw, his lips, shining red from water and ice cream. Brian look at AJ and thinks, oh, and then, even more surprisingly, please.

AJ looks at him again, and his smile is soft. Brian blinks, and then AJ is gone again, settling down next to him and putting his hands behind his head. Brian can feel his pulse beating away, loud and unexpected. He turns back on his stomach, which is hard with all that heat weighing him down. He lets out a tiny sound, something between a sigh and a moan, and when he opens his eyes Howie is looking right at him, stretched out in much the same way Brian is.

There's a sharp jolt in Brian's stomach. Howie smiles at him and closes his eyes, reaches up to scratch his nose idly. He settles back down with a low hum. It's not sexy at all, and of course Brian's not looking. Much.

Behind him he hears AJ sing along quietly to the music a faster beat, more electric and Brian closes his eyes again. His thoughts aren't simple anymore in fact, everything seems to be churning around in there right now. He hears Howie shift and just thinks, hot. Yeah. Hot works.


© Mette M. 2005-2009. This story is purely fiction, meaning not true. If any actions in the story are similar to real life experiences, they are pure coincidence. All persons, excluding the Backstreet Boys and occasional real-life based characters, are made up from the author's imagination. I, Mette, do not know the Backstreet Boys, their families and friends or their management.