Chapter Text
The streets of Ramshackle were dark, each alleyway lit by only the soft glow of streetlamps, hanging high above the pavement from blackened metal beams. The sun had set hours ago, bringing the temperature down with it. This left Stone frigid, shivering.
He sat quietly in a corner up against a crate and the brick wall of the alleyway, just outside his shared tent. The stone was cold against his back, and didn’t exactly help calm the shaking of his body, but he persisted. He pulled his lighter from his coat pocket and lit a cigarette, taking a long drag and sighing the white smoke out slowly.
As much as he wished to just huddle back in the familiar warmth of the tent, he respected Skipp’s wishes to keep his smoking outside, to not infect the atmosphere with nicotine and ash. His side of the bed always smelled of it, of course, but direct smoke would be worse. And Stone knew his addiction was already enough of a hassle for Skipp, so he didn’t bother making it even worse.
With Vinnie off on her little surprise business trip to another city, things had been more quiet. It was only him and Skipp, and had been for a few days now- they hadn’t gone on any intense adventures, keeping things low profile until they had their strongest fighter back. Thankfully they had a few more beans stashed away, so they weren’t starving or anything.
To be honest it was a bit easier to ration with just two people. Separating was easier, and Stone only had one person on his ass about eating healthily instead of the normal two. In the few days that Vinnie had been gone, Stone had learned a few things about Skipp he didn’t pay attention to before.
He hums to himself when it gets too quiet. He chews his nails when he’s anxious. He moves around a lot in his sleep. Stone couldn’t count the number of times he’d been startled awake by a thud next to him, only to see Skipp had decided to switch positions- very violently. His face was very peaceful when he was sleeping, though. That was something Stone can get away with when Skipp is asleep- staring. Just spending hours staring into the boy’s face when he himself couldn’t sleep.
But Stone was startled very quickly out of his thoughts by a droplet of water hitting his scalp, looking up to the dark sky to see that it had turned dark gray and thick, cloudy. His breath hitched, and he quickly drilled the hot end of his cigarette into the ground, hurrying into the tent next to him before the rain picked up. He winced as another droplet fell on his back as he crawled through the small entrance.
“Stone?” Skipp said quietly, watching as the raven-haired boy stumbled through the makeshift door and onto his sleeping bag. He gently put down his book. “It’s raining.” The boy replied, getting situated in the tent- taking off his shoes, coat, putting them aside, and staring off into the distance as he got into a comfortable sitting position.
“It’s gonna get worse. By the look of the sky.” He continued, slouching forward and hugging his knees to his chin, still staring into the fabric of their tent. “Ah. Swell.” Skipp muttered, sighing and picking his book back up. It was only a few moments before the rain picked up, a sudden battering down on the roof of the small tent. Loud.
Skipp had dealt with worse, so he ignored it the best he could. That is until he heard a sharp inhale from his right. He looked over to see Stone almost shaking, chest rising and falling quicker than normal. His brows were furrowed and Skipp could see his hands start to dig into his own arms.
“…Stone..?” Skipp reached towards the boy, slowly. Stone almost gasped, stumbling back away from Skipp’s hand. A childish terror shot through him, and all he could do was stare at the boy in front of him, trembling slightly. A feeling of dread welled in his stomach and his lungs heaved in short, shaky breaths.
They stared at eachother for a beat. “Um. Sorry.” Stone muttered, balling his hands into fists and grasping at the thick blankets beneath him. He wanted nothing more to curl underneath the fabric, hiding from the thundering sounds that reminded him a bit too much of his younger years.
“Don’t apologize- Are you alright? What’s wrong?” Skipp said, looking at Stone with such a heavy, genuine concern. It was sweet. It made Stone’s heart ache. He took a shaky breath, fidgeting with his hands, both of them lying in his criss-crossed lap. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Skipp.
“..It’s- nothing. I’m fine.” Stone said, hoping that was enough for Skipp to drop the subject. It wasn’t, of course. Skipp looked at him, holding his hands gently in his own lap, careful to keep a short distance. “You don’t seem too fine, Stone. Is it something I did? Is it the rain? Is it-“
Skipp was interrupted by a loud bang, strong light flashing through the sky above them and shining through even their tent, a thunderous roar following quickly after. Stone’s breath hitched and his shoulders snapped upwards, eyes shutting tight like a small child. After a few moments he gave a small, timid nod. “It’s.. The rain, yeah.. Not- not you.”
Skipp sighed as he heard the words exit Stone’s mouth, though not all the tension left him. He reached out towards the boy and received a flinch, quickly bringing his hand back and muttering a quick apology. “Can.. Can I get closer to you?” Skipp said, paying his full attention to Stone.
Stone nodded, watching closely as Skipp inched forward. Baby steps. Skipp made sure Stone was watching as he extended his hand, palm facing upwards this time, an offer. Stone declined, looking away. It sent a small pang of guilt through him but he knew Skipp understood. Or at least he hoped so.
He looked back up at Skipp a few moments later, surprised to see his gaze had shifted from concern to what some might take as adoration. Stone felt something pass through him as he took in the scene in front of him- Skipp sitting politely a few feet away from him, staring into his eyes with a devotion he couldn’t take any other way than love. He pushed the thought away.
Watching Skipp fall for him was like a pin watching a balloon fall in love with it- a wolf watching the rabbit it was about to pounce turn around to face it with pure trust in its smile. So he pushed the thought away as roughly as he could. He didn’t have to try very hard, as another burst of white-hot lightning split across the sky, bringing a deafening clap along with it.
He flinched again, a gasp ripping itself from his throat as another thunderbolt came, not even ten seconds after the first. He made a sound somewhere between a whimper and a guttural groan, clinging onto his sleeves hard enough so he could feel his nails as they left pressure marks on the skin underneath. His breathing became shaky and thick, his eyes stinging with the threat of spilling over onto the ground beneath.
Then he heard Skipp’s voice.
“Hey, hey.. It’s alright.. What do you need me to do?”
Stone took another shaky breath and tried to motion towards Skipp’s hand. He groaned after receiving a look of confusion in response, reaching forward to grasp Skipp’s wrist, pulling it up into the air between them. adjusting his own hand so it was squeezing Skipp’s. “K-Keep talking.” He murmured, the words barely managing to escape his suddenly dry mouth.
Skipp nodded, smiling. “It’s gonna be okay. These storms never last for long.” He said, letting his hand go limp in Stone’s hand. “Can you try breathing with me?” He offered, looking to the boy next to him for any answer. A quiet nod was given, so Skipp began the quote-unquote exercise. “Alright. Breathe in with me, slowly..” He took a long, steady inhale.
Stone attempted to copy, though his was far more shaky. “..And now breathe back out,” Skipp continued, letting the air in his lungs flow out into the area in front of him. Stone aligned his previously shallow breaths with Skipp’s, and after a few run-throughs he was breathing much smoother.
“Sorry- I don’t really know what I should talk about, heh..” Skipp muttered, hand still limp in Stone’s. A pace, then he continued. “I used to be afraid of thunder too. When I was younger. I didn’t have any reason to be afraid other than not understanding it. Bright lights across the sky and loud booms? Not fun for a six year old with no education.” He gave a short laugh, looking down at his hand.
“But- one day, as I was sitting at the dinner table, terrified as I watched the lightning rage outside, I saw a woman walking the road. No umbrella, not even a rain coat, and she was..” He paused. “She was just beaming. Overjoyed. I was so confused, as I watched her face light up with each passing clap of thunder that rolled across the sky- Wasn’t she in danger?” He said, pausing as Stone squeezed his hand.
He continued slowly. “I ran to the door, throwing aside my fear to tell her to seek shelter. But when I opened it I just saw her reveling in that storm, and.. There was no way she could’ve been in danger. She was too peaceful. So all I did was slowly walk out next to her, all my fear abandoned because of this reckless woman taking a walk in a thunderstorm. Ever since then I’ve loved the rain. I started watching storms out of curiosity and respect, not fear.”
A short silence washed over the two of them as the story finished. Skipp looked up to Stone’s face, which was thankfully much less terrified now. His breathing had evened out, and his shoulders had slumped a bit, his whole posture far more comfortable. He didn’t remove his hand from Skipp’s, but was less squeezing now, just.. holding. He was absentmindedly gliding his thumb against Skipp’s palm, sending an invisible shiver through the boy.
“…Thanks.” Stone said, voice still mildly scratchy. He looked into Skipp’s eyes again, finding the same quiet adoration as earlier. It was harder to push away now- that feeling of.. something, trying to claw its way up his throat. Not fear, not anymore. He looked down at Skipp’s hand, lying gently in his own, lifting it up gently. He gazed at the lines on his palm, following them out to the tips of his fingers, where small blisters lie from the rough life of a scrap.
He wanted that hand to comb through his hair, to glide along his back, to hold his face in a way that wasn’t dangerous or painful. But he knew that he wouldn’t be able to take it. He hadn’t been able to tolerate much contact for years, having associated it with pain and then.. never getting the chance to break that association. It was difficult. Every touch that he didn’t initiate himself felt like it burned, ringing alarm bells and setting his nerves alight. It felt like adrenaline and fight-or-flight was being pumped through him from every simple touch.
He wanted to break it. He desperately wanted to be able to be held without- breaking apart, snapping. All he did in that moment was stare into Skipp’s palm, longing in his eyes, sighing as he slowly ran his thumb across it. He brought his other hand up as well, taking a moment to just.. observe. He turned the hand over, glancing over the back side of it. A small bean-like scar lay in the middle of the skin, light and pink-ish against Skipp’s warm complexion.
Stone noticed he had a small birthmark on his ring finger, close to where he would actually wear a ring. Just a small brown dot, lying exactly where a diamond would be set in a proposal ring. He gently grazed his thumb across it before flipping his hand over again and tracing each line and indent in the palm before him. He was brought out of his thoughts by a sudden twitch- Skipp had flinched as Stone’s thumb found the small triangular-shaped scar lying on the webbing between his middle finger and his ring finger.
He looked up at Skipp, about to apologize, and was met with a red face and wide eyes. They both blinked at eachother for a moment, before Skipp broke the silence. “..Sorry. Uh- j-just- bitofasensitivespot.” He said, speaking the last five words quickly, as if he was spitting them out. Stone raised an eyebrow, and Skipp let out a shaky breath. “Um- t-that one’s from.. I was trying to cut a shirt to make it my size and the scissors slipped.” He said, trying to change the subject.
“I can stop, if you want.” Stone offered, still holding Skipp’s hand in his own but pausing the movement of his thumbs. “No, no- you don’t have to. Sorry.” Skipp said, hurriedly. He gazed down at his hand, tangled in Stone’s two, and shallow breaths filled the air. Stone gave a subtle smirk, and finally intertwined their fingers together, holding eachother quietly in the dark.
He adjusted so he was sat in a more comfortable position and leaned against the back of the tent, pressing against the brick wall behind it. He looked up into Skipp’s face after a moment, eyes following every line, every mole, every indent, every freckle. His eyes fell down to Skipp’s lips, then his eyelashes, then the ocean blue eyes that stared out at him like a peaceful doe.
“..Hi.” Stone said, quietly, running his thumb back and forth over Skipp’s hand. “Hi,” Skipp replied with a quiet chuckle. Rain still pattered on the tent above them, but it was lighter now, and the thunder had disappeared completely. It could be considered calming, now.
“We should probably get some sleep soon..” Skipp murmured, squeezing the hand in his ever so slightly. Stone nodded in response, making a small hum as he sat up to reposition. Suddenly, wordlessly, he leaned forward and laid his forehead on Skipp’s shoulder, holding his hand tight and sighing. “Oh- H-Hello there.” Skipp said, blinking. This wasn’t much of a common occurrence. This whole night wasn’t much of a common occurrence.
They sat there in silence for a few moments. Skipp didn’t dare try push Stone any further- this was already far past what he was normally open to and he didn’t want to break any trust. It was like gaining trust with a cat, in some ways. Eventually Stone raised his head and they slowly slipped under the large comforter that could span three entire people on some days. They gazed at eachother for a while, before their eyes became heavy and fluttered closed at the same time, falling into the warmth of sleep.
They didn’t part hands once that night.