The soft radiating warmth that begins it all, so gentle that he barely notices it and marks it up to just being a bit too warm in the house as sweat begins to drip from his temples. He starts panting, whining, shuffling around and stripping off clothes as it becomes too hot to wear them. He wanders the house in search of comfort. Maybe water or a cold treat but neither of those help him as much as he needs. By the time he realizes just how desperate he is, his legs barely work. He's crying out, touching himself flimsily and just hoping that someone will come by to help him out and keep him from going entirely mad as he writhes on the living room floor, hands shaking as he strokes himself. It's not enough. It never is. He needs so much more 🥺