It was really hot. Beyond hot. âCanât-touch-the-car-buckleâ hot. And Allen, needless to say, was suffering. Like he usually did when it got over seventy degrees.
Except this time, it was almost a hundred degrees and Allen was confined to the inside of a hot car, no air conditioner, all windows rolled down.
At least theyâd be out of there quick, right? As soon as Alfred got back from in the gas staation -the only one theyâd found in this hell desert- theyâd be in a cooler, less desolate state soon.
Theyâd been on the road for a few days now, a few days filled with switching spots between the drivers side and the passengerâs, a few days belting musical numbers together, and a few days of driving through cornfields wondering if there really was a God in emptiness that was Midwestern America. The two of them eventually decided that there wasnât when they crossed into the hottest place that Allen had ever been in. He was a Northerner, what do you expect?
Finally Alfred returned, pulling the door open and tossing a bag of snacks over into Allenâs lap.
âI got you those little squishy snack cake things you like so mu- hey, get your feet off my dashboard!â The blonde swatted Allenâs feet off his dash for nearly the third time on this trip, much to the other manâs complaint. âItâs just a car..â He muttered, diggimg into the bag, to locate that sweet junky road trip food meant to keep you going. âThanks, babe.â He glanced over to grin at Alfred thankfully and was met with his boyfriend unfolding a map on the steering wheel.
He was immediately suspicious.
âWhatâs the map for?â
âUhâŚFor finding the next gas station. In case we get low on gas again.â Alfred laughed, and it was one of those âIâm lying but I donât want you to knowâ laughs that Allen knew so well.
âThatâs a map of the next few states around us, babe,â Allen pointed out and then proceeded to groan softly. ââŚWeâre lost, arenât we?â Now it made sense why Alfred wanted to find a gas station so badly when the gas wasnât even that low, he had no idea where they were.
âNo, we arenât. Just a but turned around, Iâll figure it out.â
âOh my God. Weâre so lost, weâre gonna die out here in this desert wasteland. I donât know if I can take going through the corn hell-maze again.â
âAllen, please. Iâll figure it out!â Alfred insisted with that sweet, heart-melting grin of his and Allen couldnât help but give in with a slow, reluctant sigh.
ââŚIf we burn up out here in this heat do I get the rights to âI told you soâ?â
âSure, because itâs not gonna happen. I promise!â
Allen just groaned and slunk back into his seat more. Welcome to Hell.