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Of all the things that could have happened tonight, Blake would probably put "a freak thunderstorm" as one of the worst.
It was ridiculous, really. Up and coming musician, known for handling demons and rap battling on top of cars and in active miliary zones, all with a grin and a peace sign...
And he's reduced to a trembling mess, hiding under the covers from a little bit of thunder. Could he possibly get more childish?
The rain against the windows was loud enough that he nearly missed the sound of the front door being opened, but there was no mistaking the knock at his bedroom door, or the voice that called out afterwards.
"You doin' alright in there, Morse Code?"
Storm be damned, that cheesy nickname would never fail to warm his heart. He wanted to say something, to tell him that everything was just fine, but all he managed was a vague sort of squeak.
"Yeah, I guess that was a dumb question."
The door swung open quietly as Pico let himself in. He crossed the room in a few long strides, and slid under the blankets to pull his shaking partner close to him. Blake curled up against him instinctively, laying his head against his chest.
"Guessing you're probably not verbal at all right now, huh?"
Blake gave a half hearted wave of his hand. He could talk right now, it just... wouldn't be easy.
Pico just raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.
"Yeah, well, don't push yourself. You know you're gonna regret it later."
Before he could bring himself to respond, lightning flashed outside, and Blake tensed, clinging to Pico like a lifeline. The anticipation of the thunder was almost worse than the thunder itself sometimes.
Then the actual thunder hit, and holy shit, nevermind, the anticipation was absolutely not worse.
"Take it easy there, you're gonna break my ribs at this rate."
Pico was only joking. He knew that, of course he knew that. But he still couldn't help the distressed whine he let out.
"Woah, I'm kidding! I'm just giving you shit, babe."
A moment passed where the only sounds Blake could were the howling wind outside, and Pico's steady heartbeat, before he spoke up again.
"Hey... You know it's okay to be scared, right?"
As always, he'd managed to zero in on the deeper problem without needing to be told.
"You're always so damn hard on yourself. Nobody's gonna think less of you for being afraid."
Blake pulled his hands free for just long enough to sign a quick phrase.
"Don't want to talk about this. Please."
Pico tilted his head to the side, the way he always did when he was lost in thought. Then, without saying another word, he started humming a familiar melody.
It was a lullaby from when they both were younger. Blake was honestly surprised that he still remembered it at all. He could feel the notes as they reverberated through his chest, soothing and soft.
They stayed like that for a time, one song giving way to the next. Eventually, it was hard to tell where one ended and another began.
The storm raged on outside. But inside the darkened apartment, Blake was comfortable in his lover's arms. Pico was still humming an aimless tune, hand rubbing slow circles on his back. Slowly, he relaxed enough to finally get some rest.
He trusted Pico to keep him safe.