Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Warning: m/m relationship and sappiness. Yes, sappiness deserves it's own warning. Oh, and it sucks. I think that's all the warnings.
A/N: A plot bunny that refused to go away. I wrote this in about an hour. It's hasn't been betad (I don't deem it worthy of annoying anyone with) and it's probably riddled with errors. Bear with me, I will go over it another day, atm I just want to get it off my hands. Feel free to point out any atrocities.
I removed this after I realised how badly the lack of sleep had made this. So many typos! Thanks to the two people who reviewed it before I tore it down for inspection. :)
Thunder and Lightning
In my eyes, he is the thunder.
He stands at the window, watching the rain patter furiously upon the glass, turning the world into a grey, confused blur. He is silent, for now.
I call his name. He sighs and turns to face me, focusing on me only for a moment as a bright flash illuminates him. His eyes lose focus and he smiles.
I know what's coming next. I cower slightly and he watches me, perplexed. A roll of roaring thunder cavalcades towards us, reaching the rain-splattered window and crashing against it like a wave.
It shakes. I shiver slightly and close my eyes. I don't like it when he sees me being weak. I don't want him to think that I'm not good enough for him.
I can't help that the thunder scares me. In a way, he scares me.
Thunder has always scared me, but I also think it's one of the most beautiful things in the world. The pure and primal sound of cold air burned into an explosion, the silence before the growling cacophony begins and the movement of the sound across the land; it fills my heart with both with fear and with joy whenever I hear it.
I fear it because it is magnificent.
I fear it because it is powerful and breathtaking.
I fear it because it is so...overwhelming.
I love it because it is in every way like him. I adore the way it reminds me that there is still good in everything. Its turbulence stirs me. It awakens me and only then do I catch a glimpse of him in his fierce radiance.
Sometimes he will look at me, and I will get lost in the depths of his gaze. I reach a headspace where everything I've known is transformed into a swirling sky of blue and grey noise, and I never know what do to when I am there. But I feel safe. I feel wanted and I feel needed.
So I imagine I am out in the soaking rain and I imagine the thunder rumbling through me. It purifies me and makes me new. The rain washes my face and the thunder washes my soul. It makes me free.
But not without a price.
The noise dies away, and slowly the patter of rain returns. He turns back to the window and sighs again.
I wish I knew what he was thinking about. He never tells me what is aggravating him; he always tries to make out that nothing is wrong. Even when bewilderment is clearly straining his shining face, he never speaks a word of what is amiss.
I know he's just trying to protect me, but I just want to help. I want him to know that I am here for him, that I am strong. I want to show him that his thunder does not go unheard.
I open my mouth. I want to say something, but I don't know what. I feel a cold draft around my feet and I am captured by it as it wisps across his hair. He lowers his head and contemplates the scuffed wooden floor.
'Mokuba...' he whispers.
He is not as blatant and loud as thunder, but his voice has the same affect on me. It fills me with some strange emotion that I cannot describe. I want to leap off my bed and embrace him, but I also want to hole up and disappear.
I know what's coming next.
He turns around and looks at me for a long time, and his eyes fix on mine. I cannot tear myself away and again I find myself outside in the rain, with a roar in my ears that obliterates everything.
Everything but the warm touch of soaked skin, and light hand across my face. The smell of damp clothes and damp earth filling the senses the thunder cannot quite take away.
'Mokuba?'
I will not open my eyes- I cannot. I refuse to leave this place. I want this to last forever.
But even the thunder fades.
A bright blue light skims across my eyelids and finally I dare to return to this reality. It has caught him by surprise too.
He stands there, his tall frame casting an imposing shadow. He is poised and waiting for the sound of his patron element. The draft catches him again as the thunder rolls out, louder this time and followed by more blue light. He smiles, of course.
He smiles because he knows he does not need sound to be like the thunder.
I wonder what I am like, and I realise.
I am like the lightning.
At first hand, people associate lightning with danger. However, this is a misconception. Most people hardly notice it for more than a second and the forget it. It rarely strikes unless someone is stupid enough to get in its way. It is often much less of a threat that people like to believe.
People often forget that I am there. I know what it is to be considered lesser and not quite as important as somebody else. I've learned to live with it. People assume that I am harmless; I guess they are right.
Of course, I never hurt anyone. The lightning never intentionally hurts anyone. It might make the power go out, but people take little notice. In truth, lightning is just a decoration for the roar of the thunder.
People don't fear lightning because they deal with its power everyday. It's just electricity...just a power source. Something to be exploited and otherwise ignored.
There is only one thing that cares about the lightning. It is the thunder.
Why?
Without the lightning, there would be no thunder. The heat, the speed and the intensity of the lightning burns the quiet air until it bursts free into a passionate orchestra.
I may not be quick or intense, but I have a heat inside of me created specifically for him. I do not know what it is, but it reminds me of the blinding light that forks out into the sky outside, its tendrils reaching for the incredible noise, so that it may be whole and complete again.
He once told me that I was the only thing that kept him sane. He told me I was his only light in a dark, cold world.
I know that he feels free with me. He can be himself.
I set him free.
I let his soul sing its true song. I unbind him from his suffocating worldly prison and let him be himself. Only with me does he allow himself to truly show his nature.
So I am his lightning.
And he is my thunder.
When we are together we create a storm. We are not loud, or destructive. But the same energy fills the space in between us. I feel the same kind of intensity, the same crackle in the air.
He does too. This I know for sure. This I do not need to ask him about. And he does not need to tell me.
For we are the thunderstorm. I am bound to him, wherever he may go and whoever he may become. This is the price I have to pay. I have to suffer with him and I share his pain, even though he tries to hide it.
One day I will teach him to trust me enough to share his sorrows with me. For now I am happy enough to let him be comforted by my presence.
One day, there will be no pain.
He stretches his body languidly, then moves across the room to sit down beside me. His legs reach the floor; mine just swing into empty space as I sit on the edge of the old, high bed. I look at him, wanting to be drawn back into the world his eyes create for me, but he's not looking at me.
'Mokuba,' he says.
'Yes, Seto?' I ask, my voice trembling slightly. Even though I think know him so well, I still fear his words, in case they are bad. This is why he is the thunder. You never know what sound it will make- whether it will gently roll over hills or explode into an aching crash.
'Promise me something?'
I lean back in relief. 'Yes brother?'
'Promise you will always stay as you are. Don't change.' He says. It's his turn to shudder slightly, his voice bearing the brunt of some locked up thoughts that he wasn't about to share.
I smile. 'Of course brother.'
This is the height of the storm.
He draws me into an embrace which takes me by surprise, but I do not struggle. I sink my head into his chest and he trembles slightly. Blue light illuminates us. The window rattles as another wave of noise hits it mercilessly. I flinch and he holds me tighter and images flash before my eyes. I see him, emblazoned against a stormy sky, his hair whipping in the fierce winds. I see him and I hold him and I know that I will never change.
It will never change.
To some, the thunderstorm seems like a horrific and violent thing. Few see it for the truly wondrous thing it is. It is a bringer of life, a purifier of worlds and an awesome force of nature; this is what we are. I see it in us.
I will never risk this beautiful thing we have.
He pulls away slightly and he looks to the window again. His eyes look even more brilliant than usual, and I realise that is it a hint of tears that sparkles there. I try to say something and again I fail.
He leans over me and plants a butterfly kiss upon my forehead. I reach for his hand and our fingers interlace, his hand cool against my hot skin. I feel the imprint of the kiss burning and I hold his hand tighter.
I want more.
His face changes into an expression of surprise, and then relief. He blinks quickly, trying to hold his emotion back.
'Seto...why do you want cry?' I ask, shocked. I fear I have done something wrong. He shakes his head slightly, strands of hair falling into his eyes. He gulps and grins and tries to chuckle.
'Because I'm happy,' he whispers into my ear. His hot breath tickles and I wriggle slightly, but I can't avoid the heated shiver it sends along my spine and then down to the tips of my fingers where it awakens deeper, darker things. We stay like this for a while, his breathing warming my ear, still pressing my body into his and still holding his hand firmly in mine.
Finally, I find something to say.
'I love you Seto,' I breathe softly. He inhales sharply and I feel his whole body smile.
'I love you too, Mokuba.'
This is the thing about thunderstorms. After they have passed, the world always feels like a better place. Everyone knows this.
This is why we are the way we are. We make the world a better place for each other.
Well, we try to anyway.
We are the thunder and the lightning. We will never be apart.
--
A/N: Inspired today's local thunderstorm. I like thunderstorms, can you tell? Yes, I know I should be writing the other fic...and I am. Honest. I've started the next chapter so worry not, it should be there soon!
Anyway...we are sorry for this interruption. Normal service shall be resumed soon.
(Augh. Kill me. Or R&R, whatever)
