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Nate flinched as another clap of thunder filled the hallway outside November's small apartment. A part of him wanted to leave, to go back to the Warehouse and hide underground with whatever he could find to distract himself. He'd promised the detective he'd come to see him after his patrol, but he would understand. And yet, as always, the vampire was filled with the overwhelming urge to see him, even though he would rather keep this particular secret for the moment. He hated the thought of not being honest with his boyfriend, but he just wasn't ready yet.
Nate faltered as he came to November's door, noticing the lack of noise from within for the first time. The detective always had something making noise while he was home - music, the low murmur of the TV, the more tinny sounds that Nate had come to recognise as video game sound effects heard through headphones. He focused his hearing to try and tell if November was actually home, and the familiar heartbeat drew him in like a moth to a flame. He clung to it like a lifeline until it was all he could hear, drowning out the sound of the storm outside. Faster than normal, excited, maybe.
He took a deep breath, resting his forehead against the door as he let himself be consumed, allowing the tension to ease from his body. November was oblivious to many social cues, but far from ignorant, and it wouldn't take him long to realise something was amiss.
One more deep, calming breath, and Nate stepped away and knocked. November's heart stuttered in the familiar way it did whenever the vampire entered a room, and there was the sound of uneven footsteps on the carpet as he raced to get the door. There was a thump (the sofa, at a guess) and a small muffled 'ow' that was more surprised than hurt, and the door was flung open.
November was drenched, but there was a bright grin on his face, grey eyes bright and excited, and open in a way that was still rare, even when it was just the two of them. It was as though he had been brought alive by the storm raging outside, and the sight left Nate momentarily speechless.
"I was on the fire escape, pacing," he offered, misunderstanding the reason for the silence. "Flat was too small, felt too cooped up." November bit his lip, eyes searching his momentarily before darting away. "I get a bit hyper in the storm, sorry."
"No-" Nate reached out to gently grasp his hand as he stepped back, a thousand ways to finish that sentence warring on the tip of his tongue (Don't apologise. Don't go. Don't close this door.) The indecision rendered him mute, and he tailed off with a helpless look.
November jolted in surprise at the contact but quickly recovered, squeezing Nate's hand to let him know he was okay with it. He frowned at the floor for a few moments before tugging Nate's hand to rest on his hip.
November could be easy to read or impossible, depending on his mood, but there was an underlying non-verbal language all his own if one got to know him well enough. Nate had always been a great lover of language, and he threw himself headlong into studying this one. He took particular delight in that it enabled him to partake in one of his favourite pastimes; watching November.
He took him up on his silent request, stepping forward to encircle his arms around his waist. November calmed at his touch, though Nate could still feel the shivers that passed through him with every flash of lightning - not entirely due to the cold that was beginning to set in.
Peals of thunder seemed to shake the apartment around them, and Nate held him closer instinctively, heart racing in panic even as November tensed in his arms, practically thrumming with excitement and barely suppressed energy. He chuckled as the thunder passed, standing on tiptoe to press a kiss to Nate's cheek, staring at him with open affection on his face that made the vampire smile despite himself, leaning down to kiss him tenderly on the lips in turn. For all his own fear and tension, he loved that this man he so adored took so much joy from the storm, and that the usually private, reserved detective was so willing to share this side of himself with him.
November pulled away, flushing, but with a big lovelorn grin on his face at the ease of the affection between them.
"I should go get dressed before I drench your clothes," he mumbled, stepping away and meandering towards the bedroom.
Nate followed him, eyes moving automatically to the open window, thrown wide open to invite in the storm outside, the soaked towel thrown over the window seat betraying how long they'd been open. Lightning split open the sky, and he flinched, averting his gaze as November pulled the window closed, crushing the towel into a ball he lobbed into the hamper. Seeking anything else to distract him, Nate's eyes scanned the room until they landed on the bed and widened, surprised and delighted.
"I didn't know you played."
November tensed up right away, glancing back to confirm that he was talking about what he suspected with an expression that was both self-conscious and embarrassed.
"Fuck, yeah, sorry. Tend to keep it private." He shrugged awkwardly, trying even harder than usual to avoid meeting his eye. "I forgot to put it away when the storm started."
"May I?" The human stared at him for a long few moments with hesitation in his eyes before nodding and disappearing into the bathroom.
Gently, as though it were made of glass, Nate picked up the sleek black violin from the bed, running his fingers over the smooth wood. A brief examination didn't turn up a maker's mark, though the instrument was exceptionally high quality. He looked around, finding the bow tucked into a sticker-laden leather case on the floor beside the bed.
"How long have you been playing?" he called through the door, making a mental note of any stickers he recognised for future reference.
"Um ... since I was about 13, I think? Not long after the accident." The rustling of clothes on the other side of the door was almost enough to keep him distracted from the storm on its own. "I didn't like the lessons, so I dropped out and taught myself. I'm not very good."
Nate drew the bow across the strings, playing a simple scale. Closing his eyes, he tried to use the music to drown out the outside world, with little luck.
"I'd love to hear you play someday, if you'd be willing."
"I didn't know you played either," November commented after a brief and rather pointed silence.
"I've been around long enough to pick up a few things," he replied fondly. "I've adored music ever since I was a small child, though I had no opportunity to learn myself until I was older."
"I love that you're passionate about so many things."
Nate was caught off-guard by the unexpected musing, November tailing off as though he had never intended to say so much out loud.
"Nothing brings me as much passion as you do."
Closing his eyes, Nate could easily envision the look that would be crossing November's face at that moment. Grey eyes widening as the flush would bloom in his pale, freckled cheeks and spread over his chest and the tips of his overly-pierced ears. He would only catch a glimpse before the detective hid his face behind his hands or hood, though not in time to completely conceal his smile.
Nate allowed himself a smile of his own at the mental image, and his playing sped automatically in answer to his boyfriend's increased heart rate.
He was distracted enough to be caught wholly unawares as the windows shook in their panes with the force of the next crash of thunder, the rain falling louder, harder against the side of the building as though trying to smash the windows and force its way in. The violin emitted a discordant screech as Nate recoiled, fear flooding back full force, stumbling against the wall. The storm was front and foremost in his mind, the only thing capable of breaking through the deafening pounding of his own heart in his ears as panic rose within him like a tidal wave. His breathing quickened, trying in vain to suck air into his lungs.
"Nate?"
The single word pierced through the rising panic as easily as the lightning cracked open the world outside. The fog slowly began draining from his mind, and he turned his head to peer at November, who was lingering in the doorway, watching him with an expression halfway between confusion and concern. His dark red hair had been pulled into a loose braid that fell down his back, and he'd dressed in a pair of pale blue pyjama pants and an old, faded hoody scrawled with the name of a university November had most certainly not attended.
"I'm sorry," he gasped, air rushing into his lungs so fast he almost choked. He swallowed, trying to ground himself, to push the fear out of his mind. Remembering what he was just doing, he inspected the violin in his shaking hands, a breath of relief falling from his lips once he confirmed he hadn't done any harm to the instrument, despite the imprints of the strings pressed into his fingertips. "It's not damaged."
He handed it tenderly to November as he approached, as one might a small child or an animal, only to flinch as the detective merely tossed it - gently but carelessly - onto the bed in favour of throwing himself into his boyfriend's arms.
November was at a height where his head tucked near perfectly under Nate's chin - like two halves of a puzzle he'd barely even been aware was in pieces until the detective had stumbled into his life.
"It's just a thing, Nate," he mumbled into his shoulder. "You're far more important to me than all the shit in this flat put together."
Nate could no longer hide the shaking that wracked his body as he held November a little tighter, a little more desperately.
"The storm, it..." He tailed off, mouth dry, and swallowed before trying to continue. "It brings back some bad memories, is all. I'm a little ill at ease, but I'll be all right once the storm passes."
November didn't pry, for which Nate was grateful - he still didn't feel ready to go into those memories just yet - particularly on days like today, when he could barely close his eyes without his chest tightening in fear of the nightmares waiting to ambush him just behind his eyelids.
"I'll have to distract you 'til the storm passes then," he suggested with a small hopeful smile. "Maybe we can try making some happier memories instead?"
A suggestion that would make Morgan proud was on the tip of his tongue almost before he could stop it, but he bit it back. November was receptive to his flirtatious probings regarding physical intimacy, but his body language screamed that he wasn't yet ready, and he had, for the moment, made the decision to ease off a little. To suggest such a thing to somebody as self-critical and over-thinking as his boyfriend, even in the form of playful teasing or quippy innuendo, would put undue pressure on him, which was exactly what he was trying to avoid. Likewise, his reaction to his finding out about the violin laid down a clear boundary that he wasn't about to cross by making the other suggestion that came to him.
"I would enjoy reading with you again."
November's eyes lit up at the request, and he pulled out of his arms completely, rushing across the room to pull the thick curtains firmly across the window, hiding the world outside. He carried on through the apartment, ensuring all the windows and curtains were closed securely against the storm. He then turned off all the lights in his already darkened apartment before returning with the extra pillows and blankets he kept stocked in the closet.
Nate, restless and wanting to do something with his hands, had stalled in carefully tidying away the violin in its case, lost in thought. He turned away from tucking the case neatly into a space he'd made on the cluttered and disorganised desk in the corner to find his boyfriend had been busy in the meantime.
The reading lamp beside the bed had been turned on brightly enough that November could see properly, but low enough that it wouldn't interfere with the galaxy projector he was currently adjusting to be aimed at the ceiling. The air in the room was alive with bright artificial stars as November got it to an angle he was satisfied with and stepped back, looking over the nest of pillows and cushions he'd built up on the bed, the many stuffed toys that were usually at home there precariously piled face down on the nearby wheelie chair. Apparently satisfied with his preparations, November gave him a bright, happy smile and dragged him off towards the small bookshelf pressed against the wall.
"You can choose."
"To read with you? Is all of them a valid choice?" Nate teased, burying his face in November's damp hair and pressing a kiss to his head.
"It's a valid choice, but not a very realistic one." November beamed, wriggling out of his boyfriend's arms and bouncing excitedly as Nate leaned forward to examine the titles available in front of him.
A handful of them he recognised - C.S. Lewis's Narnia books and what looked at a glance to be Tolkien's entire bibliography. He decided to read those at a later time, instead focusing on the books he didn't recognise. Going by titles, appearances, and November's tastes, he could place the majority of the shelf as fantasy and sci-fi. They seemed outside the bounds of his own taste in reading material, if just for the fact that he wouldn't typically choose such books on his own. Even so, he would love to branch out into new genres of reading, moreso those that were November's favourites. Even if he didn't enjoy the books themselves, he was particularly excited to hear November talking about something he was passionate about, to hear about the stories and worlds and characters he loved so much.
"What would you recommend?" he asked finally, and November smiled awkwardly, leaning forward to select a thick book from the shelf with far less deliberation than Nate had expected.
"I've been meaning to reread this one for a while," he admitted, going to make himself comfortable over in the pillow nest. "Do you want me to read to you this time instead?"
Nate paused midway through peeling off his jacket, giving him a wide smile.
"I would love to hear you read to me."
November smiled shyly as Nate finally joined him on the bed, curling up against his side. The detective wrapped an arm around his shoulders to gently pull him closer, pressing a kiss to the top of his head now that the artificial height difference worked in his favour. He was able to push the thoughts of the storm to the back of his mind as November slowly turned the pages to find the first chapter, clearing his throat nervously as he did so.
"'Rain fell that night, a fine, whispering rain. Many years later, Maggie had only to close her eyes and she could still hear it, like fingers'... shit, sorry 'like tiny fingers tapping on the windowpane.'"
November's voice was shaky and too fast in his nerves, tongue stumbling over words as it worked at a separate pace to his brain, and Nate smiled to himself as his boyfriend gradually gained confidence and settled into his own rhythm. His fingers tangled into Nate's hair as the vampire rested his head against his chest in a way that was soothing to both men.
November's heart beat steadily right by his ear, his voice filled the air around him like a favourite perfume, and the projected galaxy twirled lazily around them. The storm raging right outside the windows suddenly felt a thousand miles away. Nate could finally feel his own heartbeat easing in his chest, the tension draining from his body and the trembling in his long limbs subsiding.
Feeling his body relaxing in his arms, November gave him a gentle squeeze as he carried on reading. Nate let out a contented sigh as he hugged him back, nuzzling deeper into that oversized hoody. Finally at ease for the first time since the storm had appeared on the horizon, Nate closed his eyes and allowed November's voice to consume him.