Prompt: #78 - Stormy
Warnings: Twincest hints, fluff.
Word Count: 395
Notes: Title speaks for itself. :) Written for 100_prompts.
It’s all very predictable, really; it’s a comfortable, familiar pattern. Tom’s gotten used to it, and he doesn’t want to imagine things being any different, no matter how old they get.
Bill always comes to his room when there’s stormy weather, and Tom always lets him stay. He always says, “Just until the storm is over”, but it never fails that those words go unheeded by the both of them, because even after the storm is over, Bill stays, curled up against Tom as close as he can possibly get, and Tom doesn’t let him go. He doesn’t ever want to.
They always wake up together anywhere from mid-morning to early afternoon (unless they have somewhere they need to be), and they wake up with identical grins and sheepish laughter and mirrored warmth in their dark eyes, thunderstorms and the like completely forgotten.
Tonight is no different: Tom hears the first roll of thunder, sees the first jagged strike of lightning, and he smiles knowingly. It’s gotten to the point that he can count it down, now. Six, five, four, three, two, one….
And, on cue, his bedroom door creaks open and he can hear Bill’s soft footsteps on his carpet as his twin approaches. Wordlessly, Tom moves over, making room for Bill.
Bill doesn’t hesitate to accept the invitation, slipping under the covers beside Tom and snuggling close, sighing softly against Tom’s neck. Tom doesn’t even protest when Bill sticks his cold, bare feet against his legs (he’s only just gotten warm).
Tom’s arms slide around him easily, like they were made to—they fit like puzzle pieces that never should’ve been taken apart to begin with. He nuzzles at Bill’s hair and inhales the scent of his brother, feeling content. He likes when it storms like this.
“You know I hate thunderstorms,” Bill murmurs, the slightest hint of a pout in his voice.
“Mmhmm,” Tom agrees, tightening his hold just slightly, “I know.”
It isn’t really about the thunderstorms, though—hasn’t been for years, because they are seventeen now, not seven.
Bill isn’t afraid of the thunder and lightning anymore, and Tom knows it, but he never comments on it and neither does Bill.
The thunderstorm is only an excuse, and that is all.
It’s not like they really need an excuse to be together like this (safe and warm and happy), anyway.
>_< And within this pairing, there is an endless fountain of fluff. I can try to not make it so cute, guys.