fandomtownies | The Beach, Tuesday Afternoon

So, here was the thing about Jonothon: He was not made for hot summer weather.

And not just because he was on fire, no. Hell, the fire was the least of his worries these days when it came to feeling overheated. And not just because he was prone to wearing black leather from head to toe, which sure as hell wasn't helping on a day like today, no. And being the palest British guy who ever did Brit? Also not exactly a huge help, there.

All of these factors combined? They meant that after a few weeks of feeling a bit like he was going to just melt away into a miserable puddle to become one with the carpet, today was the day that Jonothon had finally cracked, left the leather behind, and set off for the beach in his swim trunks and a t-shirt. Yes, it meant there was fire spilling out from the top of his shirt, around his face. No, Jono didn't particularly care. It was too bloody hot to care. Hell, he was even considering losing the shirt entirely while he was in the water. Jono was going to go swimming today, dammit, and if anybody had a problem with it, there was plenty of beach to pick from without having to look at him for the rest of the afternoon.

And that would be why there was a portable stereo sitting on a towel in the sand playing disc one of Pearl Jam's Rearviewmirror album while a human fireball paddled around in the water.

Some days, even the human fireballs needed to go swimming.

[OOC: I looked at the temperature and went "HOLY CRAP" and then this happened. Open beach!]

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Hannibal was neither British, nor on fire, nor prone to wearing head-to-toe leather (unless he was riding his motorcycle). As far as he was concerned, the air conditioning was perfectly adequate.

That didn't mean he was going to miss an opportunity to see Jono swimming. He'd come very far to be willing to do this, especially without prompting.

That would be why there was a human with skin and small swim trunks relaxing on the sand far enough from the radio not to be deafened by it.

And, after a good bout of swimming, the human-with-fire was making his way out of the water and making his way over to the human-with-skin, looking faintly amused.

//Found a new spectator sport?//

"I'm considering participating, but the current team seems to have it well in hand," Hannibal answered, grinning. He held up a towel in question.

//Please,// Jono replied, accepting the towel and wrapping it around his shoulders. Being on fire didn't, unfortunately, make him immune to sunburn. //And there's plenty of ocean out there for the both of us, you know. I'm not above sharing, if you decide you'd like to come join me out there.//

That was what sunscreen was for, Jono.

"I may," Hannibal agreed. "But I was enjoying the sun at the moment."

Edited 2015-07-07 23:05 (UTC)

Jono was wearing sunscreen! It was SPF roughly-a-million and his shoulders were still turning red!

//Also a valid option,// Jono decided, //even if it's too bloody hot out here for that sort of thing.//

Said the guy who would have been quite content to live as a Morlock, if his pride would have let him do it.

Hannibal caught a glimpse of that red and winced. "We should have brought an umbrella." He opened his bag and took out the sunscreen. "Dry off a bit and we'll layer on more."

//Would've been interesting, trying to swim with one,// Jono mused. Because yes, he was still a brat. But he was a brat who was drying off, at least, and then coming to sit by Hannibal, glancing at his shoulder with a bit of a wince of his own. //I'm not really made for the heat. Have I mentioned that?//

Only roughly a million times now.

"I believe you may have." Hannibal dabbed the sunscreen on and worked it in. "You could put your shirt back on," he pointed out.

//I could,// Jono allowed grudgingly, closing his eyes and leaning back into Hannibal's touch. It was still a novelty, having warm hands on his bare skin without his wrappings acting as a buffer in between. //Nothing stopping me from doing that. Just feels a little silly getting into the water with a shirt on, I suppose.//

"We could have brought your wetsuit," Hannibal persisted. Honestly, was burning any better?

//Could've,// Jono agreed, scuffing a toe into the sand. //Considered it, actually. It serves its purpose well, after all. I suppose it was just...//

He spread his hands a little.

//It's a hot bloody day. It's a hot bloody day, and the purpose of that thing was so that I could hide better in a place where people just wouldn't get it, and I had it in my hand and I thought, 'Where am I?' And then I put it back again. Didn't much think about sunburn. Just, some days I get so bloody tired of hiding.//

So tired that he'd rather burn, apparently.

Hannibal smiled. "A laudable attitude, and one I'm pleased to see. But your shoulders will feel it tomorrow."

//They're feeling it a bit now,// Jono admitted, scrunching up his nose. //I'll probably regret it tomorrow. My shoulders haven't seen this much sun since I was a kid.//

Poor tender squishy baby.

"You could always burn up less metaphorically and recreate yourself without the burn," Hannibal noted. "Although perhaps that's a bit extreme." Or maybe not, depending how he felt tomorrow. At least skin cancer wasn't a worry.

//Might be a bit overkill for a sunburn,// Jono agreed, giving Hannibal a wry look over one shoulder. //Never mind the collateral damage that'd go along with it. And all of the exploding after the fact. Going swimming isn't worth that sort of hassle, really.//

'Hassle.' There was some understatement going on, right there.

The Beach, Tuesday Afternoon

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