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Sweaty & Sticky & Not in the Good Way

For Day Four (Summer Lovin’) of @dexrarepairweek . Posted to ao3

Dex is sweating in places that he doesn’t want to think about and shifts uncomfortably, trying to to find a position where his skin isn’t sticking to itself. He’s in the shade, no use denying he burns even under cloud cover and with a fresh layer of sunscreen, stretched out on his stomach and wondering when Ransom’s gonna get bored of lying out on the patchy grass that passes as the Haus’ front lawn.

From the looks of him, it won’t be any time soon. His skin is glowing in the sun, and Dex can see a lot of it what with his shirt being used as a pillow and his shorts rucked up for “maximum thigh exposure”, and he doesn’t look grossly sweaty like Dex feels, long limbs sprawled across his towel like he doesn’t have a care in the world. This heat suits him. Dex makes a face; he’s better suited to heat if it’s countered by the spray of waves but he’s not going home this summer. Neither’s Ransom, who’s staying at the Haus until he goes to Boston to start consulting, so they’ve taken to lying out on the front lawn on their days off, just enjoying being still and together before real life starts up again in August.

“You’re staring babe,” Ransom says, eyes closed behind his sunglasses.

“It’s hot,” Dex grumbles, wiping his sweaty forehead on his arm. It does nothing but transfer the grossness; blond arm hairs plastered to his skin now. “Ugh yuck.” Wiping it on the ground is even worse; dirt and pebbles get mixed in with the sweat on his arm. He rearranges so he can rub the mess onto his towel.

“It’s summer.” Ransom’s turned on his side, elbow bent so he can prop his head in his hand, and looking not unlike he’s posing to have his portrait painted like a French girl. It gives him a height advantage to look down at Dex over his sunnies. “You can’t tell me you don’t sweat in Maine?”

Dex tuts and pushes himself up, sitting back against the Haus porch and resting his elbows on bent knees. “Yeah, but I was always doing something to like work up the sweat. I dunno, I didn’t just lie and marinate in it.”

“Bro, such a way with words,” Ransom says, nose wrinkled. He pushes his sunglasses onto his forehead. “‘Marinating in sweat’- really paints a nice picture.”

“You at least look good doing it,” Dex says. He waves a hand over Ransom’s… well everything. He’s kept his bulk from the season, even adding to it after the stress of finals and grad finished and he had time to eat properly. There’s a bead of sweat rolling from his neck to his well-defined pecs that Dex would lick if they weren’t in the front yard. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I’m a red mess.” He feels that his hair stays standing up on end; from the sunscreen remnants on his hand or the sweat from his hairline, he doesn’t know but Ransom doesn’t bother hiding his amused grin. He gets up, stomach flexing, and knee walks from his towel onto Dex’s.

“That’s a look,” he says, settling in the v of Dex’s legs. He just barely fits; the insides of Dex’s knees are pressed right to his sides. Ransom uses Dex to balance himself, hands a comforting, not smothering, heat on his skin.

“If you come any closer, I’m gonna sweat on you Jay,” Dex warns, eyeing Ransom warily. It’s half a warning, half a request. Ransom might look good covered in sweat, but that doesn’t mean Dex wants his sweat on him in this context. Ransom ignores Dex completely and gets even further into Dex’s space, left hand slipping down Dex’s grossly clammy thigh to rest on his hip. He brings his right hand up, raising an eyebrow for permission. Dex rolls his eyes, but nods and Ransom grins and attempts to tame Dex’s hair, fingers tugging lightly at the strands and scratching at his scalp. It’s soothing. The heat in Dex’s cheeks isn’t entirely from the sun when Ransom leans back to study his work.

“You done?” Dex asks when Ransom’s been staring a while. The sweat beading at Dex’s temples can’t make much of a pretty picture

“Will, let me look.” Ransom grabs Dex’s chin to tilt his head this way and that. Dex huffs, but doesn’t make another sound until Ransom surges forward so suddenly that the surprised sound Dex makes gets muffled by Ransom’s grin. Ransom kisses like he always does, lips soft against Dex’s, but the hand Ransom brings to Dex’s face is sweaty.

Dex breaks the kiss to glare.

“Did you just facewash me with sweat?” he asks, appalled at the six-foot-something ‘adult’ in his lap. Ransom’s smile is innocent but he doesn’t deny anything. He squawks though when Dex clamps his knees around him and flips them so Ransom’s on his back and Dex has gravity working for him as he wipes his sweaty face along Ransom’s neck and chest. He gets an elbow to the stomach as Ransom tries to wiggle free or wipe something else sweaty on Dex. He’s not really sure what the strategy is.

Embarrassingly soon, considering they’re both college athletes, they’re out of breath from laughing as they wrestle and now there’s grass and dirt where Dex doesn’t want to think about from having managed to roll off both towels. It was an all out war when they decided throwing dirt clumps was fair game.

“You wanna get ice cream?” Ransom asks eventually. He’s on his back again with a trail of sweat cutting through the dirt smear along his cheekbone. From his position under Ransom’s arm, Dex feels his chest moving up and down and up and down. It would have been perfect if they had managed to fall in the shade.

“Yeah.” Dex blows out a breath, still comfortable despite the sun burning his skin. Neither makes a move and Dex struggles to keep his eyes open. Ransom’s even breathing and the way he idly traces patterns into Dex’s shoulder is extremely relaxing considering they’re lying in the dirt. He’s not 100% sure Ransom isn’t rubbing more dirt into Dex’s arm now that he thinks about it. “You’re gross though, we should shower,” he says.

Ransom hums agreeably. “Yeah, and I’m not going anywhere with you until you fix your hair.”

Dex pinches Ransom’s thigh. “Dick, you were fixing it!”

“I never said that.” Ransom shoves Dex off his shoulder and rolls to his feet. Dex takes the hand he offers. Without discussing it, they pick up and shake out their towels, Ransom sneezing at the dust. They hang the towels over the porch rail to air out overnight and Dex makes a mental note to bring them in before work in the morning. If he’s being honestly though, they’ll probably stay there till their next day off or it rains, whichever comes first.

“I’m getting a triple scoop,” Ransom tells Dex seriously. He has his shirt tucked into the waistband of his shorts and the sunglasses they almost broke while wrestling hanging around his chin like a douchey chinstrap. “Strawberry gelato.”

“And?”

“That’s it.”

“Waste of a triple scoop.”

Dex lets them into the Haus, shaking his head. He knows Ransom is sticking his tongue out at him without having to turn around and swiping a hand down Ransom’s face in an approximation of a no-look facewash confirms it. Ransom still follows him up to the bathroom where they shuck their clothes and don’t bother with the hot water before getting in, leaving the door wide open. Dex’s skin is definitely burnt and Ransom’s is hot to touch so cold water is a welcome relief.

The relief is short lived once they leave the shower and have to put on clothes though. Dex’s solution is to keep them off. It’s not difficult to convince Ransom.

Their shadows are longer when they finally stumble back out of the Haus and it’s still hot. Dex’s shirt sticks to his back but he doesn’t complain. It’s easy to ignore when Ransom’s kisses are also sticky and taste like summer too.

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