The Comfort of a Thunderstorm
1/1
Alex loved thunderstorms ever since he was a little boy. He had fond memories of sitting in the sunroom of his childhood home with his father, blankets, pillows, and a lantern arranged around them. His father would read him storybooks as the thunder crashed and the wind howled outside, and Alex would feel warm and safe, savoring every second of it. It wasn’t exactly the safest room to be in during a storm because of all the windows, but Alex loved watching the lightning illuminate the dark world.
Now, as a 23 year-old, he still held onto that love for storms. They were a comfort; he would jump in bed and get the best night’s sleep of his life as soon as the rain started to fall. They intrigued him, time after time, but he never tried to learn the scientific reasoning behind the weather. He thought storms were more fascinating from an unexplained point of view, and especially beautiful.
~
It was a particularly stormy night in July. Thunder had begun its crescendo around 10 o’ clock and hadn’t stopped since, bringing with it shocks of lightning and fat rain clouds. Alex was camped in the sunroom of his little house (the room had been a requirement when he was house-hunting). His pillows and blankets were piled on the big couch against the wall. He was sitting on the floor, notebook in hand, dreamily writing song lyrics when he heard a familiar voice from the doorway.
“Alex?”
A figure crept into the room. His boyfriend Jack stood slouched, clutching his pillow. His eyes were wide with worry as he toyed with the hem of his shirt, jet black hair disheveled and hanging in his eyes. “I couldn’t sleep…I, uh, got scared,” he said in a meek voice.
Alex tried his hardest to suppress a smile. He set his notebook aside and moved to the couch, patting the cushion beside him. “Come here.”
Jack scurried over, throwing his pillow down and quickly curling into Alex as a particularly blinding flash lit up the small room. Alex wrapped his arms around Jack’s slender torso and rocked him slightly.
“Why do you think you’re afraid of storms?” Alex asked after a while, pressing a kiss to Jack’s hair.
“Dunno, they’re just so unpredictable.” Jack’s answer was muffled by the fabric of Alex’s t-shirt. Alex squeezed him tighter as a thunderclap rattled the windowpanes.
“You know, when I was little my dad used to tell me that lightning flashes were angels taking pictures,” Alex mused, attempting to put a positive spin on Jack’s fear.
Jack lifted his head, looking up at Alex. “And what was thunder?”
“God bowling,” Alex said. “Duh.”
Jack laughed and tucked his head back into Alex’s chest, body a little more relaxed than before.
Alex stroked his hair. “Maybe if you watch the storm with me, you’ll see how beautiful they are, and you might not be scared anymore.” He nudged Jack’s face toward the window. “Just once?”
Jack gazed at Alex for a moment, then gave in. Sighing, he shifted so that he was between Alex’s legs, his back to his chest and his front facing the windows. He wove his fingers through Alex’s and held tight with both hands.
Alex rested his chin on Jack’s shoulder. Jack watched tensely for a little while, jumping slightly at every thunderclap. He blushed furiously into the dark, embarrassed at his reaction. Alex rubbed his thumb on the back of Jack’s hand soothingly, and bit by bit he relaxed into his chest. After a while he heard Jack softly exclaim in wonder when a bolt appeared in the sky.
“See, they’re not that bad,” he said. “Sorta romantic, really.”
Jack hummed in agreement.
They sat and watched the storm, just like that, late into the night. Jack was doing nothing to stifle his yawns, and his eyes were beginning to close.
Gently, Alex moved out from behind Jack and let him settle down on the couch. Jack sleepily drew a blanket in around himself as Alex stretched out next to him. Jack shut his eyes and sighed contently.
“Are you still scared?” Alex asked softly.
Jack snuggled closer to him, shifting the pillow to his liking. Sleep slurred his words. “I’m never scared when I’m with you.”
Alex pressed a kiss to Jack’s cheek. By now the storm had moved on. Alex rubbed Jack’s back until his hand slowed, and they both fell asleep to the rhythmic sound of raindrops pattering at the window.
Now, as a 23 year-old, he still held onto that love for storms. They were a comfort; he would jump in bed and get the best night’s sleep of his life as soon as the rain started to fall. They intrigued him, time after time, but he never tried to learn the scientific reasoning behind the weather. He thought storms were more fascinating from an unexplained point of view, and especially beautiful.
~
It was a particularly stormy night in July. Thunder had begun its crescendo around 10 o’ clock and hadn’t stopped since, bringing with it shocks of lightning and fat rain clouds. Alex was camped in the sunroom of his little house (the room had been a requirement when he was house-hunting). His pillows and blankets were piled on the big couch against the wall. He was sitting on the floor, notebook in hand, dreamily writing song lyrics when he heard a familiar voice from the doorway.
“Alex?”
A figure crept into the room. His boyfriend Jack stood slouched, clutching his pillow. His eyes were wide with worry as he toyed with the hem of his shirt, jet black hair disheveled and hanging in his eyes. “I couldn’t sleep…I, uh, got scared,” he said in a meek voice.
Alex tried his hardest to suppress a smile. He set his notebook aside and moved to the couch, patting the cushion beside him. “Come here.”
Jack scurried over, throwing his pillow down and quickly curling into Alex as a particularly blinding flash lit up the small room. Alex wrapped his arms around Jack’s slender torso and rocked him slightly.
“Why do you think you’re afraid of storms?” Alex asked after a while, pressing a kiss to Jack’s hair.
“Dunno, they’re just so unpredictable.” Jack’s answer was muffled by the fabric of Alex’s t-shirt. Alex squeezed him tighter as a thunderclap rattled the windowpanes.
“You know, when I was little my dad used to tell me that lightning flashes were angels taking pictures,” Alex mused, attempting to put a positive spin on Jack’s fear.
Jack lifted his head, looking up at Alex. “And what was thunder?”
“God bowling,” Alex said. “Duh.”
Jack laughed and tucked his head back into Alex’s chest, body a little more relaxed than before.
Alex stroked his hair. “Maybe if you watch the storm with me, you’ll see how beautiful they are, and you might not be scared anymore.” He nudged Jack’s face toward the window. “Just once?”
Jack gazed at Alex for a moment, then gave in. Sighing, he shifted so that he was between Alex’s legs, his back to his chest and his front facing the windows. He wove his fingers through Alex’s and held tight with both hands.
Alex rested his chin on Jack’s shoulder. Jack watched tensely for a little while, jumping slightly at every thunderclap. He blushed furiously into the dark, embarrassed at his reaction. Alex rubbed his thumb on the back of Jack’s hand soothingly, and bit by bit he relaxed into his chest. After a while he heard Jack softly exclaim in wonder when a bolt appeared in the sky.
“See, they’re not that bad,” he said. “Sorta romantic, really.”
Jack hummed in agreement.
They sat and watched the storm, just like that, late into the night. Jack was doing nothing to stifle his yawns, and his eyes were beginning to close.
Gently, Alex moved out from behind Jack and let him settle down on the couch. Jack sleepily drew a blanket in around himself as Alex stretched out next to him. Jack shut his eyes and sighed contently.
“Are you still scared?” Alex asked softly.
Jack snuggled closer to him, shifting the pillow to his liking. Sleep slurred his words. “I’m never scared when I’m with you.”
Alex pressed a kiss to Jack’s cheek. By now the storm had moved on. Alex rubbed Jack’s back until his hand slowed, and they both fell asleep to the rhythmic sound of raindrops pattering at the window.