Chapter Text
The storm outside didn’t show any signs of letting up. Thunder cracked against the sky in blinding streaks of white, a deafening force that rattled the windows vigorously, paired with the rain battering against the roof, as if begging to enter.
Fireball couldn't help but toss and turn in his bed. He had been laying there for what felt like years, the noise making it basically impossible to sleep. His frustration was mounting, feeling as if the storm was mocking him. Every time he tried to close his eyes, the thunder would strike, louder and more intense with every passing beat.
Fireball groaned, rubbing his face in irritation. Why did the storm have to be so infuriatingly loud? The combined heat of himself and the room didn’t help either, creating a suffocating heat pocket within his tiny room. While Vasey claimed to have booked her beloved contestants into luxury accommodation, their rooms lacked th bare minimum of working AC. You can imagine how well that turns out for Fireball, the literal embodiment of warmth.
With a sign of resignation, he turned his head, glancing at the clock: 10:34 PM. Not that it mattered. The storm had been going on for hours, and he wasn’t getting any rest. That was something he was starting to come to terms with now.
Knock, knock.
Fireball’s head jerked toward the door, already on the verge of crashing out. Whoever this was, they were about to get an earful. Especially if it was Caramel Apple – the fruit was the only object that actually went out of his way to bother fireball, and it was irritating to deal with his shenanigans. Well, irritating is a bit of a strong word. Fireball would never tell him, but he did appreciate the latter's company.
Sometimes.
But now wouldn't be one of those times, not with how frustrated he was feeling. He swung his legs out of the bed, about to unleash his annoyance at whoever had disturbed him.
Yet, when he swung the door open, he saw someone unexpected, freezing in place.
Pound.
“Oh,” Fireball muttered, blinking in surprise. “It’s you.” There was no irritation in his voice now – just surprise, with a hint of relief. Despite now being on opposite teams, Fireball always found himself at ease around Pound than anyone else. Competing without the coin on his team had felt strangely desolate, especially without their usual interactions.
Pound smiled awkwardly, clearly nervous but determined.
“Uh, hey, Fireball! I know it's a bit late, but could I come in? I don’t want to bother you or anything, but this storm is.. well, it’s a bit much, and I figured I could use a bit of company. And, well, we haven’t really had time to y'know, hang out lately. With us being on different teams and all..”
Fireball, already softened by the genuine look on Pound’s face, found himself smiling despite himself. “I guess it’s fine. It’s not like I’m doing anything important anyway. I could use your company more than you need mine, I bet.”
Pound chuckled, his smile brightening as he stepped in. The two shared an awkward but comfortable moment as Fireball closed the door behind him, with Pound taking a seat on Fireball’s couch.
“So,” Fireball started, breaking the silence. “This storm’s ridiculous, huh? Nobody’s getting any sleep tonight.”
Pound nodded, looking out the window as the storm continued its wrath. “Bloody hell, I’ve never seen anything like this. The sky sounds like it’s about to fall. It’s.. well, it’s a bit overwhelming, honestly.”
Fireball plopped down besides Pound, grinning. “Sounds like you're more than a little freaked out. Overwhelming, huh? What, is a little bad weather too much for you?”
Pound shot him a flat look. “Oi, it’s not about the weather. Well, it is, but it’s more about – well, never mind. I’m just a little.. surprised by it, is all. It’s a tad bit louder than usual, yeah? Anyway, it’s not a big deal. I’m fine!”
Fireball raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re fine, huh? You sure about that?”
Pound quickly nodded. “Yeah, no problem. Just makes my heart race a little, y’know?”
Fireball sat up a little straighter, watching Pound closely. “Hey, you’re not fooling me. You definitely aren’t as calm as you’re pretending to be. You’re all stiff over there, you know.”
Pound quickly tensed, shifting his gaze to the floor, and Fireball could see the faint flush on his cheeks. “It’s.. it’s nothing. Just.. loud noises aren’t exactly my favourite thing. That’s all.”
Fireball didn’t press him further, but it was clear to him that Pound was trying to brush it off. The next thunderclap made the walls tremble, and this time, Pound couldn’t hide his reaction. His body jerked, and his eyes widened slightly.
Fireball leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “You sure you’re fine? Because you look like you’re about to leap right out of your skin.”
Pound hesitated for a moment, a forced laugh escaping his lips. “Oh, don’t be daft. The loudness is just a bit.. startling.” His voice wavered on the last word, and Fireball could see his hands trembling slightly in his lap.
Fireball frowned, his sharp gaze resolving into something more tender. Pound was staring hard at the floor now, clearly trying to keep himself together, but the way his shoulders tightened gave him away. Fireball felt a twinge of guilt for teasing earlier, realizing just how much the storm was affecting him.
“Hey,” Fireball said quietly, sitting up straighter. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Pound.”
Pound’s eyes flickered to Fireball for a second, glossy with unshed tears. He quickly looked away again, his hand coming up to rub at his face as if to wipe away anything that might fall. “I’m fine,” he muttered, but his voice cracked.
Fireball’s gaze softened. He could tell Pound was trying his best not to let his discomfort show.
Fireball scooted closer, leaning over to meet his friend’s downturned gaze. “Listen to me, Pound. You don’t always have to force yourself to stay strong in front of others, alright? It's ok to be afraid.” His tone was softer now, his usual irritation replaced with genuine concern. “You’re allowed to not be okay. Just admit it already.”
Pound sniffed quietly, biting his lip as he steadied his breathing. He didn’t speak, but the tension in his body said it all. Fireball didn’t push him further, giving him the time to let the emotions settle while staying close, a silent reassurance.
Pound finally shot Fireball a quick glance, a slight smile forming at his lips. “Alright, alright mate. Maybe I’m a bit jumpy.. but don’t tell anyone, yeah?”
Fireball snorted. “I won’t tell anyone. Promise.” He gave Pound a teasing grin. “But you owe me, big time. Either way, as your bestest friend, I’ll take this secret to the grave.”
Pound laughed quietly, but as another crack of thunder struck, his body flinched again, more noticeably this time. Fireball could sense Pound's distress, and was determined to put an end to his discomfort.
“Calm down,” Fireball said, his teasing voice gentler now. “Enough of this. C'mere.”
Without giving Pound a chance to protest, Fireball pulled him in closer, giving him a side hug. Pound stiffened at first, clearly surprised by the sudden physical contact, but as Fireball’s warmth enveloped him, he relaxed a little.
Fireball could feel Pound’s secure heartbeat racing against his side, and he knew that despite how much Pound tried to act like the storm didn’t affect him, he wasn’t handling this well. He continued to embrace Pound, hoping that his presence would soothe at least a few of the coin's nerves.
“Look, Pound,” Fireball said softly, trying to sound less like his usual snarky self. “You don’t have to be all stoic with me, I’m right here. You’re not alone.”
Pound, still tense but grateful, nodded uneasily. “Thanks, Fireball. I’m not used to.. well, letting anyone see me like this, really.”
Fireball chuckled under his breath. “You think I’m used to being all.. nice and comforting?” He lightly jabbed Pound’s side, making the other yelp, before laughing at Fireball’s antics. “But seriously, you’re my friend. I’m not going to let you freak out alone. Especially not over some stupid storm.”
Pound chuckled softly, feeling the tension in his shoulders begin to ease as Fireball’s arm tightened around him in a steady, reassuring squeeze. Despite how overwhelming the storm had been, the warmth of Fireball’s presence grounded him, slowly easing the tension in his chest.
After a long pause, Pound let out a shaky laugh. “You know, I’m glad I’m fireproof. Otherwise, this hug would be a proper health hazard.”
Fireball blinked, then burst into a snort, shaking his head. “You’re lucky I actually like you, or I’d roast you alive for that one.”
The two of them chuckled together, the tension dissolving into something much lighter. Fireball nudged Pound lightly. “See? I’m not just rage and anger. I’m good for a hug, too.”
Pound beamed at the comment. “Yeah, well, you’re not as scary as other objects think you are.”
Their shared laughter filled the room, drowning out the thunderstorm outside. The storm raged on, but for the first time that night, the noise felt more distant.
As their laughter faded, Pound glanced up with a sly smile. “You know, you should try being this nice to your teammates sometime. Might make more people like you.”
Fireball raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Nah. Too much effort.” He leaned back slightly, fixing Pound with a teasing glare. “You’re the only one who gets the VIP treatment. Don’t get used to it, though, you’ll have to wait till the merge.”
Pound’s smile softened, a warmth creeping into his voice. “VIP treatment, huh? Lucky me.”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t get too sappy on me,” Fireball muttered, his cheeks heating up faintly. He looked away, but not before adding, quieter this time, “You’re special, that’s all.”
Pound’s breath hitched slightly, but he quickly recovered, covering the moment with a wide grin. “Well, you’ve got good taste, mate.”
Fireball rolled his eyes, though a grin tugged at his lips, as he pulled Pound firmly closer, back into his grasp. The two settled back into comfortable silence, their shared warmth outshining the storm’s chaos outside.
Pound eventually broke the silence.
“I’m lucky to have you around, Fireball. Even if I must constantly remind you to be nicer to others.”
Fireball smirked. “Well, no one else can handle me like you do, alright?”
Pound looked up at him, a soft expression on his face. “That’s true.”
The storm outside continued to bawl at a consistent intensity, even with time passing by. Yet inside the room, despite the incessant weather, the pair were beginning to settle. Fireball’s arm remained around Pound’s shoulders, keeping him steady, Fireball’s controlled, pulsing warmth soothing Pound’s nerves.
As another crash of thunder came, Fireball squeezed Pound’s shoulder. “You okay now?”
Pound nodded, his voice barely a whisper. “Yeah. Thanks to you.”
Fireball flashed a smile. “You’re welcome. But don’t think I’m going too soft on you, just cause we’re friends. We’re still watching that action movie you mentioned last week, right? I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. I’m not letting you off the hook just because you’re a big baby about the storm.”
Pound laughed, his heart a little lighter than before. “Alright, alright. I owe it to you, don’t I?”
Fireball grinned widely. “Sure do. Now, where’s the remote? We’ve got some serious movie time to kill.”
Fireball scrolled through the hotel’s limited movie options, grumbling under his breath about the TV’s lack of a search function. “Oh my godddd, this TV doesn't even have a search option?! This is stupid! So called luxury hotel - it’s going to take forever to find this movie!”
Pound leaned back cosily on the sofa. “Well, we could always watch whatever seems the most interesting, if we can’t find the film. Considering the storm outside, I think a horror movie might be a bit on the nose. You’d probably combust if we watched a rom-com, though.”
Fireball gave him a look. “I wouldn’t combust. I’d just.. suffer silently.”
“Sure,” Pound teased, clearly unconvinced. “Silent suffering is definitely your thing.”
Eventually, they settled on a different action movie with enough explosions to distract from the consistent thunder outside. Fireball relaxed, slouching against the arm of the sofa, while Pound sat cross-legged closer to the pillows. As the movie started, the two began casually tossing commentary at the screen.
“Did he really think running through the glass would work?” Fireball quipped, tossing a piece of microwaved popcorn into his mouth. “That’s the worst plan I’ve ever seen.”
Pound chuckled. “You’ve obviously never met half of our teammates.”
The two dissolved into laughter, the easy banter chasing away the earlier tension. Somewhere in the middle of the second big chase scene, the storm continued to roar. However, now it was nothing but a mere background hum to their comfortable camaraderie.
As the movie wore on, Pound’s head started to droop, his eyelids heavy. Fireball smugly noticed out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t fall asleep on me now, sleepyhead. We’ve still got, like, thirty minutes of explosions left.”
“I’m not asleep,” Pound mumbled, but his voice was soft, slurred with exhaustion. He shifted slightly, leaning against the pillows as his body relaxed further.
Fireball reached over, nudging him playfully. “Well, I’m still gonna make fun of you when you do. Bet you’ll fall asleep halfway through the best part.”
Pound grinned sleepily. “Guess you’ll never know.”
With one last sleepy grin, Pound rested his head against Fireball’s shoulder. Fireball looked down at him, his hand pausing mid-motion. He felt a rare, soft feeling settle in his chest. He didn’t mind the new warmth.
He didn’t mind at all.
Obviously, Pound deserved this rest - especially after the rough night they had just faced. The credits rolled quietly in the background; the room bathed in the soft, flickering glow of the TV. Fireball stretched slightly, glancing over at Pound, who had fully succumbed to sleep, draping himself unconsciously onto Fireball, arms loosely wrapped the latters torso.
Pound’s face was peaceful, his usual sharp wit being replaced by a familiarly calm, and almost endearing stillness. Fireball’s gaze lingered for a moment, feeling oddly content.
Fireball shook his head with a quiet chuckle. “You’re a mess, you know that?” he muttered under his breath, but the tenderness in his voice betrayed his words.
After a few seconds of quiet deliberation, Fireball sighed, standing up from the sofa and gently lifting Pound’s shoulders. “Alright, you’re not sleeping on the couch,” he muttered to himself.
Pound mumbled something incoherent, his circular body limp and relaxed in Fireball’s arms as he was carefully picked up. He adjusted his grip, carefully cradling him as he made his way to the other side of the bed.
“You’re lucky your fireproof,” Fireball grumbled playfully under his breath, struggling a little as he tucked Pound under the blankets. “I would never want to hurt you.”
Pound barely stirred, a contented sigh escaping him as he snuggled into the warmth of the bed. Fireball paused for a second, lingering by his side, his expression soft.
“You’re an absolute idiot, but you’re my idiot,” Fireball whispered quietly, watching his friend, deep in his slumber, for a few more seconds.
He made sure Pound was comfortable, before retiring back to the sofa, letting out a tired, yet satisfied sigh.
Fireball himself was nodding off, his head resting against the headrest of the couch.
After a couple minutes, both of them were completely out, Pound curled up on the bed, with Fireball sprawled haphazardly on the sofa. The television continued to play, casting a warm, flickering light over the two friends as they slept peacefully, the storm outside finally beginning to ease, coming to a long awaited standstill.