When the first lightning tears the sky, Mickey turns his head so fast to the window that Ian is surprised when he doesn't hear a snap. Mickey's eyes are wide and he's staring at the dark grey clouds heavy with the upcoming rain. A thunder roars in the distance and Mickey jumps in his seat. He stands up quickly, closing the shutters and the curtains on the living room of the small apartment he and Ian moved into just a few weeks prior. He then walks into the bedroom and Ian hears when he closes that window as well. Another thunder rumbles, louder this time, and it's Ian's turn to jump in surprise. He doesn't mind thunderstorms, kind of likes them actually, their destructive nature beautiful in some wicked way. Mickey walks back into the living room and plops himself down on the couch next to Ian, turning the volume of the TV up a lot more than necessary. Bruce Willy's voice sounds loud in the room and Ian flinches.
"Hey, turn that down a little, I'm not deaf."
Mickey scowls. "Fuck you, it's fine."
"It's too loud, man, turn it down."
He doesn't get the chance, however, as the power goes off and a loud thunder rips through the sky. Mickey jumps, cursing loudly and colorfully.
"Gee, Mick, calm down, it's just a storm."
"I fucking know what it is!" Mickey yells back, marching into their bedroom in the darkness and slamming the door shut.
Ian blinks, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. The bright light of lightning shines into the living room, even through the shutters and curtains, and he hears a shout coming from the bedroom. Cursing himself for being so stupid, he makes his way into the bedroom. He scans the dim lit bedroom and finds Mickey sitting between the closet and the nightstand, holding his knees and resting his forehead on his crossed arms. He takes the few steps separating them and slides down next to him. Ian rests his hand on Mickey's shoulder, feeling him shake under his touch while yet another thunder sounds in the distance. Mickey raises his head to look at him, eyes daring him to make fun of him, to say even a word in mockery. But Ian doesn't; of course he doesn't. He understands all too well what an irrational fear might do to you. Instead he just reaches for Mickey's hand, clasping it tightly in his own long fingers.
"Needles."
"What?" Mickey whispers back, confused.
"For me it's needles."
"Oh."
Mickey holds his hand firmly. "Don't like long things poking you?" He smirks and Ian shakes his head, chuckling. The rain starts falling, pouring heavily and assaulting the windows that rattle with the strong wind. Mickey takes a deep breath and rests his head on Ian's shoulder, hiding his face.
"Thanks". The word is murmured softly and Ian smiles, gently placing a kiss on Mickey's head.
"Anytime."