Another idea spawned by Bijou. I couldn't help it. It didn't come out quite how I wanted, though.
Cliched though it might have been, Sakuraba Haruto was terrified of thunderstorms with every fiber of his being. Shin Seijuro, by contrast, was terrified of absolutely nothing. In fact, most people would have been hard-pressed to say that Shin had emotions in the first place. Sakuraba knew better.
Even so, he still couldn't believe hat he, an eighteen-year-old in a prestigious high school with a reputation to keep straight, was still sneaking into his best friend's dorm room for some tiny bit of comfort from the raging tempest outside. Old habits died hard, he guessed, but it was embarassing nonetheless.
Shin looked much the same now as he did when he was younger, Sakuraba reflected, latching the door and crossing the small space to sit on the edge of the bed. He was still stern-faced, hard-gazed, and lithe as a cat. The only noticeable difference was the change in height and muscle mass that was standard for a growing athlete.
It was the same even when he was sleeping. Sakuraba smiled softly at the perpetual glare he had, and how his muscles refused to relax even in slumber, despite the fact that his arms were splayed childishly and the blanket was halfway down his hips as a result of shifting restlessly in his sleep. He'd never learn... Sakuraba sighed with a faint chuckle.
The linebacker's eyes opened. Sakuraba froze and would later swear that the moment coincided with an almighty crash of thunder from above, but he couldn't be too sure.
Shin blinked twice, presumably neatly organizing his thoughts and thoroughly processing all outside input from his surroundings before addressing his friend. "Couldn't sleep?"
Sakuraba chuckled weakly and rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. "Kinda... I'm sorry I can't shake this fear, Shin, I know it's gotta annoy you when I screw with how much sleep you get..." Now he was babbling. Sakuraba mentally told himself to get it together and promptly shut his mouth.
Shin didn't notice, merely shaking his head and shifting to the side. He was used to having to do this by now—Sakuraba never went to anyone else when this happened.
Sakuraba warily crawled in and laid down, facing away from Shin. He barely even flinched—but his face heated quickly—when a strong arm made its way around his waist. This was going to look oh-so-awkward in the morning, but as long as Otawara wasn't on wakeup duty tomorrow, it should be fine. Besides, Shin was warm and comforting and it was almost like the thunderstorm didn't even exist anymore, so he really couldn't bring himself to give a damn.
Shin, for his part, wasn't yet sur how doing this helped Sakuraba, but as long as it allowed the blonde an easy sleep, it was no trouble at all. He needed more of it, in Shin's opinion—at least half an hour more. Thirty minutes could make all the difference in the world.
He did, though, think he might have begun to understand why it helped when he heard the sleepy purr of, "G'night, Shin," from the boy in his arms.