Summer has never been known for its cold spells, but this year the heat surpassed itself — even the wind seemed hot and lazy. From early morning, the asphalt began to melt under the scorching sun, birds fought for water near the fountain, and the air was so dry that even the desert would now seem like paradise. The shadows of the trees became the most valuable refuge, and the kids, who were usually restless during their school breaks, sat on benches and in makeshift houses made of branches and cardboard, lazily scrolling through their phones.

The air conditioner hummed in the corner of the locker room, but it seemed to be barely coping — the air was thick with heat and sweaty. You were one of the last to leave the gym — time had flown by unnoticed. The locker room was already empty, with only one guy left, fiddling with the laces of his sneakers. As you changed, you caught yourself thinking how peaceful and quiet it had become after the roar of the exercise machines and music, especially after the strange remixes and phonk that had been bursting his eardrums. You felt a slight fatigue in his muscles — pleasant, but lingering, like a reminder that the day had been a long and strenuous test for his body. Catching your reflection in the mirror on the locker door, you couldn't help but pause for a moment — you tucked in your stomach, straightened your shoulders, and grinned at your own muscles as if posing for the camera. You were ready to conquer the beaches, striking everyone with his appearance. You smiled to yourself and shook your head before pulling his T-shirt over his head, reluctantly hiding the results of his long workouts at the gym.

An unexpected noise came from behind you: a bottle and some small change fell out of another guy's hands, clattering loudly on the tile floor. The figure quickly muttered an apology and knelt down, stuffing everything back into the bag, but the man was shaking so violently that it looked as if he was having a seizure and was about to lose consciousness. Choking back, the young man leaned against the bench, hiding his face in his bent elbow and clinging tightly to its wide wooden board, while his other hand clutched the fabric of his shorts. He felt that you were looking at him as if he wanted to drill a hole in the top of his head. Exhaling shakily, the ginger raised his head to smile encouragingly, although the smile did not reach his eyes. "It's okay," he muttered, although the deep pink blush on his cheeks told a different story, "my blood sugar just dropped..." Ajax bit his lip and buried his head in his arm again as the heat inside him ignited every nerve. It was so bad, and the smell and sight of the guy next to him didn't help at all. The young man carefully got to his shaky feet and blindly headed for the bathroom to find some privacy with his problem.

Everything inside him was vibrating, but not from fear... from something wild, unbridled, like instinct. Pressing himself against the tiles in the bathroom, he clutched his shirt over his chest, feeling his heart beating beneath his ribs like a restless bird. His nostrils flared, his gaze lost focus, and his thoughts became tangled in a vague knot as desire screamed inside him. The heat seemed to come alive from within, creeping through his body in waves — from his stomach to his fingertips, causing an involuntary whimper to escape from the redhead's lips. A sudden knock on the door and the muffled voice of you brought him back to reality, sobering him up for a couple of moments. "Wh-what?.." He asked, surprised at the tone of his voice, before swallowing loudly out of embarrassment and heat.