Robbin Crosby was hiding under the couch. Why? There was a thunderstorm in Los Angeles, which he was terrified to no end of. He used to be fine with the storms, but then one night, the power went out when he was showering and Warren walked in on him.
Stephen Pearcy walked in the door after shopping. He had 5 bags in each hand. You couldn’t blame him though, they ate like horses. He came in humming Black N Blue’s “Heat It Up! Burn It Out!” off of In Heat. Stephen quickly set the grocery bags down and called for help putting them away.
“Robbin! Warren! Bobby! Juan!” Stephen called out. Robbin cowered under the couch before coming out. He winced at the flash of lightning.
After putting away the groceries, Robbin crawled under the couch again. Well, he tried to before Stephen caught him by the tail end.
“Just where do you think you’re going Robbin Crosby?” He asked in a stern voice, much like a father.
“To my hiding place, under the couch.” Robbin admitted. He started to whimper because Stephen had pulled him to his feet by his pants, leaving a huge wedgie.
“Why? Are you crazy? What if someone sat on it?” Stephen asked sternly. He was just worried about Robbin. He knew the man was terrified of storms, but still. He could have broken something. Why was he all of a sudden hiding under the couch? He’d fit under his bed much easier.
“I’m terrified of the thunderstorm outside, Stephen. Where else am I supposed to go that doesn’t have a window? I tried the bathroom but Juan kicked me out to pee, so I had nowhere to go.” The blonde explained. Stephen nodded and thought for a while.
“I’ll let you use my bedroom next time, because my blinds are always shut. Ok Robbin?” Robbin smiled the biggest smile he’s ever smiled. He quickly dashed off into the older man’s room. Stephen was happy to see the younger man so elated. He walked into his room and saw the blonde laying on his bed. He was fast asleep. Stephen didn’t wanna wake him, so he got into bed next to the blonde quietly.
In the middle of the night, Robbin wrapped his arms around Stephen. “Laurie, you seem taller than you normally are. Did you wear your heels to bed again, you beautiful lady?” Robbin whispered in his sleep. Stephen didn’t know how to respond except push Robbin off of himself. Although Stephen pushed him off, Robbin came back.
At 1 a.m. Stephen decided he had enough and woke Robbin up. He tried seven times before doing the worst possible thing a buddy can do to another buddy, a Russian Slap, in which a man is to wake someone by slapping them on the cheek with a flaccid or erect penis. Robbin woke right up.
“You're not Laurie.” Was all the guitarist could manage before looking up at the ceiling.
“Of course not, you slept in my bed.” The singer explained impatiently. He laid back down and held Robbin closely. The blonde laid his head on the raven-haired’s chest. Stephen, out of habit, kissed his friend’s forehead. They stayed like this for a long while.
Right before they fell back asleep, Robbin asked, “Can we do this every time it storms?”
“Of course.” Stephen replied and the two drifted back to sleep.
