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Weird together.

The words were a perfect summation of everything that they had become together and even though he was suddenly having a bunch of anxiety about the fact that they were pouring water all over the floor, there was nothing he would have rather heard in that moment. He could deal with that promise.

"Uhhh," he didn't have a choice to do anything but follow the brunette as he grabbed his hand and tugged him along to the opposite side of the room. He was smiling though, weak and happy as his sneakers made a slick squishing noise with every step. By the time they entered the open, warm bathroom, Ellis was all too happy to kick them off and peel away the socks that clung to his damp toes.

"You just want me to strip," he accused playfully, already unbuttoning the shirt that was sticking to the plane of his torso. There were only a handful of buttons undone when Noah paused at the doorway and turned back to kiss him - it gave him pause, but made him smile, stilling his work on the shirt as well as the thoughts that were teaming around inside his skull. When Noah finally pulled away, his eyes followed his, dreamy and hazy and content for all that he was cold.

Then the other man flinched and it took everything in Ellis not to raise his eyebrows. Was... Noah afraid of thunderstorms?

"I like you too," it was an echoed mumble as Noah turned and left the room, though not before tossing him a grin that made heat rise in his pale, chilled cheeks. He did as he was told though. His bag, thankfully more waterproof than his clothing, settled against the tile floor and he stripped each water logged, sticky layer of his clothes off with more effort than he felt like it should have taken him. Why were wet jeans so damn difficult? The air was warm in contrast to the clothes he had abandoned in a sopping pile, even if it made him shiver a little at the way it brushed unhindered against his damp skin.

For a moment, he stood there awkwardly, waiting for Noah to bring back what he hoped would be warm, comfy clothes, but then he felt the trickles of water down his back from the wet, scarlet curls. Hair was such a burden. With a little nosing about, he found the linen closet and pulled out a fluffy towel to toss over his head, busying himself with drying out the curls so they didn't dampen another set of clothes.

By the time he could hear Noah approaching again, he had slung it around his waist in some attempt to combat the cold.

The shameless rake of Noah's eyes made him blush but he was getting more used to it despite the way it still brought heat to his face and made him glance away, nervous and shy. He liked it, just like he knew Noah liked the way he reacted to it.

"Loose and warm is good," he chimed, tucking wet hair behind one ear as he reached for the clothes Noah laid out for him. The dancing pineapple did earn him a small, curious raise of his brows, but he didn't get a chance to say anything before a decidely bare and appealing Noah was gathering up clothes and walking away. He paused, arms halfway into the sleeves of the t-shirt, and leaned sidelong to try and watch him as he walked away. It was only as he was out of sight that he pulled it over his head and let it settle around his torso. It was a little loose, but not bad.

"So I only get to borrow your clothes for an hour? That's what you're saying?"

He was smiling as he pulled on his boyfriend's pajama pants, throwing a teasing, accusatory glance at him up at him once they were settled into place over his hips. He had managed to get one arm into his sweatshirt too when the thunder rolled and, once again, Noah seemed to lost his absolute mind over it.

"A, um, a fire sounds great?"

But the teasing look on his face was gone. He finished pulling on the sweatshirt and took a step closer so that he could press a careful, stabilizing hand against Noah's chest. When his gaze settled on the emerald one staring back at him, he was all calm and gentle worry. It was a stark contrast to the way he had just been an unraveling mess in Noah's arms but it was his charm - when he was needed he could put aside his own fears. He spoke and it was soft, gentle, and not at all teasing.

"Noah, are you afraid of the storm?"

"It's adorable," he corrected, trying his damnedest not to smile so much at how unnerved his handsome, charismatic, amazing boyfriend was at something that, for once, Ellis was totally calm about. It was an unexpected turn of the tables for someone that had been crying in Noah's arms not fifteen minutes ago.

He moved into the hand at his hips and sank closer to Noah's body in an attempt to anchor him; Ellis knew how anxiety worked and he knew what he needed, himself, to make it through. The forecast said that the storms were going to last all night, into the next afternoon, and suddenly his heart felt too big in his chest. The ache of it stretched across his sternum and the teasing smile he felt on his lips faded beneath all his gentle worry and concern.

"I don't work at all tomorrow so why don't I just stay tonight, okay? We can cuddle next to the fire until you feel better."

It was rare that Ellis ever got a full day off from work but the bar didn't open on Sunday nights due to the low traffic that came in and one of the girls at the coffee shop was saving up for her wedding and basically begging for shifts. Before it had been too lonely to give up a day at work just to sit around home, alone, but since he had found Noah it was different. He owed a lot to him and if cuddling his fear away during a thunderstorm was one of the ways to repay that then he would. He would at least feel better about being here if he could be worthwhile.

His hand pressed firm fingers into his chest beneath his hoodie.

"Would that help?"

At first, Ellis had folded himself on the couch behind Noah to watch him as he focused on the fireplace. Of all the things in this apartment that were unfamiliar and too fancy for his blood, he actually had owned a fireplace. The old, dilapidated manor house that his mother lived in with her sisters had faulty heating even when they did pay the bills and as the only child, he'd learned to build and stoke fires to keep everyone from freezing. It seemed like Noah could handle this though and maybe doing something with his hands would help him not be so worried over the-

Thunder rolled and Noah dropped the log. Ellis watched it tumbled over itself, leaving bits and pieces of dried bark on the floor, until it stopped at last against the couch. Without a word, he picked it up and crossed the room to settle on his knees next to Noah. He settled it in the hearth and then looked up at his nervous boyfriend with the best, most heart warming smile that he could muster. Just for effect, he leaned out and pressed a gentle kiss against the flat of his cheek.

"Do you want me to do this?"

It wasn't meant to be insulting because he was absolutely certain Noah knew how to start a fire, but given the fact that he kept jumping and jolting constantly, Ellis didn't know if it was the best plan.

The kiss was gentle and sweet and as Noah pulled away and a part of Ellis was surprised that he even managed to untangle himself and curl up on the couch at all. It left him smiling as he turned back to what he was doing.

"Aww, I don't think you're a wuss at all." As he spoke, he was busy fiddling with the kindling but his heart gave a definite, aching lurch with Noah's words. It wasn't very often that his boyfriend was anything but sure of himself and though Ellis knew he was growing attached to that handsome, charismatic heart, it was sobering to realize that it wasn't just himself that had fears and worries. Even if it was just a thunderstorm, it still made Ellis feel like they were on a more even playing field. "I find it kind of endearing that there's something you're afraid of."

The storm continued to rumble outside but Ellis grew silent. He was focused on setting up the fire properly and making sure it wouldn't just go out. By the time he had the lighter in his hand it looked more like a work of art with kindling crisscrossed over two logs and soft, dry husks bedded between them. When he lit it, the dry bits inflamed first, then crawled up the kindling, and spread out slowly to the fire starter. With one hand holding his hair, he leaned forward and blew gently, forming an 'o' with his lips.

He had messed up doing this before and, honestly, it had been so long but he was pleased when it began to catch after a few moments. He paused, watching, waiting, but it never faltered. Pleased with himself, he settled the grate back into place and turned to his poor, worried boyfriend.

"Besides, you take care of me all the time, don't you?" He crossed to him, settling one knee on the couch next to Noah's legs. Then he was leaning, pressing a gentle kiss on the corner of his lips; when he drew close he smelled of earth and wood and smoke. "It's about time I got to take care of you."

Ellis settled easily next to Noah and held his arms up until the boy was contented, head in his lap and eyes turned towards the blossoming fire. One finally settled against his ribs while the other rose to his head and began to stroke, slow and steady, through the still damp locks.

"Maybe a wildfire nymph?"

It made him smile where he loomed above his boyfriend but his voice was soft and tender. Even with the storm outside, the fire was a crackling, gentle beast and Ellis hoped that he could create a little space of calm and contentment here, just the two of them. It was why he didn't immediately answer when Noah asked him where he had learned to build a fire but instead, sank his fingers through the dark hair and swept it back from Noah's face. When he spoke again, his words were careful and measured, filled with the tiniest bit of pride for just a moment.

"My dad and I used to go camping together, just the two of us. I know I don't look like, well, like I go outside very often but I'm pretty good at putting up a tent too. We used to go fishing at a lake house in the mountains that my grandparents owned."

And then he had died and his mother had sold it to make ends meet for a little while. His teeth sank into his lip at that thought, it was better unsaid.

"Then my mom moved back home with her sisters after he was gone and the only heat they really have there are fireplaces, so," he shrugged, but his voice had changed. He didn't want to think about how his mother was probably tending her own fire or putting pots out to catch the dripping rain water in every room. His eyes were fixed on the damp gleam of the brunette strands threading through his fingers. "I've done it a lot."

"I'm not so much anymore, to be fair."

When he was younger, his skin had been darker, kissed by the sun on the weekends he and his father went out together. Without the constant exposure it had just settled to the gentle ivory that made him look like a Victorian era aristocrat.

Noah was talking slow and easy and even if he couldn't relate to what it must have been like to go fishing on a boat, he still understood the concept of doing something with his hands. His father had always been big about that - and K's father too. Between the two of them, he had learned to appreciate things like that. He just hummed gently as he watched the way his pale fingers parted the umber strands, such a contrast that it was entrancing in that way Ellis always felt when he wanted to put words to paper.

"It's okay, I promise, I really understand. When I get all worked up I feel that way, but the thunderstorm is inside me instead." The hand at Noah's ribs stroked downward to his hip and then up, slowly, so that he could slip warmed fingers beneath the hem of his shirt and touch his skin instead. "I like storms. It's like the outside matches my insides and evens me out. Which... sounds weird, I guess."

He was smiling even when Noah brought up his mom.

"I do, yeah. She lives on the outskirts of town still. She's..." he paused his words, but his hand was sliding up, inching along Noah's skin. "She's not the same as she was before my dad passed."

And there was no other way to put that. He didn't want to talk about her right now, not when he was feeling calm and contented and Noah was relying on him to be the strong one. Talking about his dad was different - he'd had years and years to cope with what had happened. His mom, though, she was still a bomb waiting to go off and he could do nothing but hold his breath and wait for it.

The redhead distracted himself by sliding his fingers up Noah's sternum and then pressing his palm against it, cupping one side of his chest with his fingers. It was the same way Ellis touched his own chest when he was panicking, though more intimate with his lover laid in his lap and a fire starting to crackle with fervor in the hearth nearby.

"It's okay," and he said it because it was. In the moment, settled on the couch with Noah's weight in his lap, it felt like none of his worries could touch him.

It pulled a gentle smile to his lips when Noah slid his hand up over his own and as the thunder crashed loud over them again, rattling the large windows at the far end of the room, he pressed his fingertips tighter into his breast bone. Ellis was fashioning himself into an anchor during this wild storm and watching Noah take solace in his presence was uplifting in a way he couldn't describe. When he turned his head and mumbled against the fabric over his thighs, Ellis took the opportunity to trace his hair line from the back of his neck and up to his earlobe. It was gentle, playful, distracting.

"After all the times you've been there to keep me sane, it's the least I can do," and he meant it. It was so seldom that Ellis felt like the strong part of his relationships, this one or any others, and for once it was just gratifying to be able to be that person - to be Noah's person. His thumb slid softly across the warm skin beneath his palm and he sighed back into the couch, comfortable and happy.

"I'll stay like this all night if it's what it takes to make you happy."