Author's Note: Some Lysander/Nathaniel crap written for ThexCurus. I probably should've asked you if there was any specific genre or whatever you wanted before I did this, but I guess it's too late for that now DX
Sorry, I don't really know what this is. Fluff-ish crap, I guess? I dunno. Just another plotless piece of worthless mediocre crap. And it's super short, so like...I dunno, If this is like really unsatisfying and you want me to redo it or write something else or whatever, just lemme know e_e'
Lysander liked many things about Nathaniel, of course, but there was one thing about him that he particularly valued. He could do a whole lot of nothing with him.
He could just grab a book and curl up next to him under a blanket and read, comforted by the silence and the warmth of Nathaniel's body heat. He could just sit at his desk and scrawl in his notebook, questing for inspiration, and Nathaniel wouldn't mind at all. He'd just recline on the bed and listen to the scratch of Lysander's pen on the paper like it was the most lovely sound in the world. He could rest on the park bench and watch the rabbits hop around and graze as he soaked in the melody of the breeze, and Nathaniel would just be quiet and content beside him, sometimes feeding the ducks.
A whole lot of nothing. It was steady, leisurely and Lysander appreciated this. Too many people were bustling around all the time, hurrying through their lives, never pausing to observe and find tranquility. Nathaniel didn't relax much on his own, really. He wasn't one of the nonstop running types, but he was one of the tense types, wanted to get everything done and recheck it again to make sure it was perfect, shoulders knotting up because he never felt like he had enough time. But Lysander showed him the time. He initiated these periods of nothingness and Nathaniel folded to them perfectly.
They were enjoying one such day of unwinding in nothing on top of Lysander's apartment building, sitting on a blanket and basking in the mild temperature when a wispy gray cloud floated over and shadowed the sun. Nathaniel wordlessly laid his head on Lysander's shoulder just because he could.
"Do you think it's going to rain?"
"It very well could." Lysander lazily intertwined his fingers with Nathaniel's. "I won't mind if it does," he added quickly, aware of how under-appreciated the rain could be. So many people viewed raining as sorrowful. It was a classic symbol for melancholic doom and gloom. "It'll be good for the flowers."
"I hate flowers," Nathaniel murmured. "But I like rain."
Sure enough, myriads of droplets began to shower the earth head on, pitter-pattering harmoniously with the laughter of wind. In mere moments they were soaked to the bones and Lysander delighted in the organic cool the moisture brought to his skin. Mist caught in his lashes and obscured the world only just and he shifted his gaze, beholding the way the rain converged with Nathaniel's face. Sodden blonde bangs pressed to his forehead and sent orbs of water trailing down, collecting more as they rolled along. They neatly pooled in the dimples of his smiling lips.
Lysander kissed him lightly, positively high on nature's tonic. Nathaniel idly returned the gesture.
"You don't mind getting drenched?" Lysander hummed just for clarification, raising a brow as the rain plastered his hair to the back of his neck and rivered down his spine.
"I normally would," breathed Nathaniel. "You make me make exceptions."
"I see." Lysander squeezed his hand just for the sake of doing so. Water slipped between the fissures between their digits, crisp and welcome.
Ah, yes. Doing nothing was fantastic.