'Get ready for some summer fun', the brochure had said. 'The best time of the year to visit Amity Park', the brochure had said. Vlad had a complaint or two to take up with the creator of these slogans upon arriving in Amity Park's sweltering hot airport. Ten minutes into his summer holiday and he could already feel the skin beneath his tailored suit becoming damp and itchy with sweat. Wet pits was unbecoming for a man of his stature. The media jumped on every imperfection he displayed, and he expected they would manage to make 'wet pits' a headline if he wasn't careful.
He sat in the airport under the air conditioner for some time, before finally spotting a sign with 'WELCOME BACK V-MAN' in obnoxious block letters bobbing in the distance. Jack's work, obviously. With a roll of his eyes, Vlad heaved his hand luggage into his arms and headed towards inevitable public embarrassment.
The guest room had been set up for him and his luggage piled into it. As there was no air conditioner in the room, he didn't venture into it until late in the evening, after sharing a few glasses of wine with Maddie and some listless chatter with Jack. Entering the room was akin to entering a furnace. He inhaled deeply and he could taste the heat in the air, feel it burning the lining of his lungs. With a resigned sigh, he closed the door and stripped himself of his clothes, all except his underwear. There was no need for him to slip beneath the covers. The layers of heat in the air were sufficient as blankets. He lay spreadeagled on the cover on the bed and attempted with great difficulty to get some sleep.
An hour later, he was still awake.
Hot, sweaty, and very awake. His eyes stung with how hot they were.
"You look like you could use some assistance." Vlad almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of Plasmius' monotonous voice. In fact, he did jump (if not out of his skin), and would have toppled straight off the bed had Plasmius not grabbed him by the upper arm to steady him.
"What have I told you about doing that? I'll end up hitting my head and getting a concussion if you don't cease appearing out of thin air!" he complained, but fell silent when he became aware of the hand wrapped tight around his arm. The very cool, very pleasant hand.
"Like I said, Vladimir. You look like you could use some assistance." His ghost half leaned in, ectoplasmic body radiating a chill like a refrigerator. "Do you want my assistance or don't you?"
Vlad's answer was to drag Plasmius onto the bed and roll them over until he was straddling the ghosts hips. "Oh, God, that feels so good," he moaned appreciatively, slowly spreading his hot, aching body over Plasmius' and nuzzling his sweaty, pink-cheeked face into the ghosts neck.
"I like it when you say such things," Plasmius purred, and Vlad's face went a shade darker in embarrassment.
"Quiet, Plasmius." Vlad maneuvered Plasmius' arms so they draped over his back and waist like a pair of seatbelts. "I expect my air conditioner to remain silent."
"Would you like me to vibrate like an air conditioner as well…?"
"Plasmius."
"Alright, alright." Plasmius raised his hands in mock surrender, before dropping them back to Vlad's cooling skin. "Sleep well, darling landlord." He gave Vlad's forehead a chaste kiss, as he had done numerous times in the past, and closed his eyes to mimic the slumber he was incapable of.
"One last thing."
"Mmm?"
"I'm going to wake up with your hands on my backside, aren't I?"
"Oh, most definitely."
Vlad snorted, closing his own eyes.