Jongin wakes up in the night. He rolls onto his back and looks over Yifan’s shoulder; the clock reads early morning. The dogs are quiet; the neighborhood is all asleep.

A distant rumble rolls through the air and shakes the windows in their frames.

Dread grips Jongin’s chest and slips down to settle heavily in his gut. He doesn’t like storms at night. Something about the pounding rain against the house and thunder cracking open the clouds is unsettling.

In the light of day, he can watch the clustering cloud cover and smell the wet soil of the flower beds as buckets of rain are dumped over the city. That’s okay; he welcomes daytime rainstorms. He enjoys sitting on their balcony with his feet up on the railing, feeling the damp spray of raindrops striking the metal.

At night, though, he just can’t shake the creeping anxiety, wondering if the world will be the same when the sun rises or if it’ll have washed away in the dark. Lightning breaking apart the sky sends electricity through his veins. Thunder shaking the ground and its occupants raises the hair on his arms.

So he turns to his boyfriend, always blissfully unaware and able to sleep through the apocalypse.

Yifan breathes deep and stirs when Jongin runs his hands up his bare arm and chest, mumbling something that sounds vaguely like “Jongin.” When he only gets a hummed reply, he shifts onto his back and raises an arm.

Jongin lays over him and kisses his jaw, fuzzy with stubble. It’s not pleasant on his lips. He touches their cheeks together, nuzzling like a cat until Yifan finds his waist and pats his .

“S’matter?”

“...Nothing.” Jongin mumbles. White light illuminates the sky for a split moment; he braces for the inevitable reply.

More awake, Yifan yawns. “A storm?” He squints at the sliver of window visible between the curtains. His hands run up and down Jongin’s back, settling around his waist with a squeeze. “You should’ve woken me sooner.”

“It’s nothing,” Jongin reiterates softly. He feels silly for waking his boyfriend with his childish fears. He spreads his fingers over Yifan’s chest, anxiously kneading like a cat. Yifan catches it, kisses his fingers. Lifting himself, he turns and rolls Jongin onto his back.

“It’s something.” Yifan kisses the corner of Jongin’s mouth, missing his mark in the dark but trying again with greater accuracy. “If it bothers you, it bothers me.”

Jongin’s content to close his eyes and let Yifan overwhelm him.

Who can see lightning through the sparks of ecstasy behind their eyelids?

What’s thunder compared to the roaring beats of their own hearts?

Why pay attention to clashing rain with the fervent proclamations of adoration falling past their lips?

Once sated and exhausted, Jongin drops further into his pillow, body heavy with sleep.

Yifan kisses his cheek and looks at the window again after lying down alongside Jongin.

It’s only raining, a soft lullaby and quiet apology for disturbing their sleep.

A/N: I love rare pairs and hate nighttime storms.