#janitor

JANITOR

"I... uh... *cough* To tell the truth, I don't much mind the heat... usually means ya wearin' fewer clothes..."

Iván likes watching you work, particularly the glint of focus in your eyes, and the confidence with which you move.

But today, something's off. You look downright miserable: wobbly on your feet, a flush dusting over your cheeks, sweat soaking through your top... He keeps his mouth shut about that last part, figuring it'd only embarrass you if you knew he'd noticed (but he really likes how the fabric clings to your body). Instead, he tells you to quit for a bit, to come join him by the overworked AC unit.

It's the hottest part of the day. It's siesta. Everyone knows it's siesta... everyone but you. You vehemently answer him with a sneer and a swear before getting right back to work.

"Always pushin' yourself too damn hard," he mumbles, irritated. Still, you can't love a person and spurn their nature. He's been with you long enough to how you are when that bug of doin' latches onto you. Arguing would be a waste (and probably get him heated too.)

Iván leaves without another word, only to come back a minute later with a frosted glass of lemonade. He shoves the cup into your hands and then drapes damp towels over the back of your neck before you can complain. One sip, and relief splays over your face, but he's already on to his next task, hauling out the huge rickety box fan from the garage, an extension cord uncoiling behind him.

The old thing is on its last fan-blade, but the consistent breeze will help circulate the AC air toward you. He angles it to blow right where you're working. He's pretty sure you'd snap his head off if he said anything else, so instead, keeping both eyes on you, he heads back to his spot, frosty blasts of AC swiftly wicking away the tacky sweat built up on his neck.

If you're too stubborn to stop, that just means someone needs to stay healthy enough to take care of you when you do finally keel over-

VIVUS

For me, there is nothing to handle. Humans, however, are so delicate... But I enjoy tending to your needs. I fear you neglect them otherwise..."

Vivus chirrs with amusement when you groan about how 'GOD AWFULLY HOT IT IS' and smack your hands against your desk, insisting you can't even think anymore.

Humans bodies are delicate, and so, Vivus knows you can only tolerate the heat for so long before irritation prickles at you... and then you, in turn, prickle at them.

But they do not flinch in fear of your wrath (quite the opposite). They enjoy experiencing the gamut of your moods, even the unpleasant ones. Before, in the lab, you kept your thoughts and emotions so tightly guarded. Openly sharing your frustrations is a reminder that you both are truly safe now, far out of sight from the EPPA's watchful eye.

You are still grousing when Vivus envelops you in their fronds. You protest and wiggle in their grasp, claiming it's too hot for this, but Vivus nuzzles their waxy, fibrous chin against yours.

"My sweet, you know better. A glomerorum's body temperature is lower than a human's," they coo into your ear, breath tickling the soft flesh there. "It is no trouble. Let me help you."

In one final display of protest, you compare them to an oversized icepack, but the pleasure you take from their presence is undeniable. By now, Vivus knows to pay more attention to your actions than your words. Your shoulders loosen, your grumbles slip into heady moans, and your head lolls lazily against their chest.

You do not have to tackle everything alone--not even the heat, no matter how sweltering and unbearable, and Vivus is determined to remind you of this as often as needed.