Work Text:
The air was hot and prickly, without hint of a breeze. The darkness that filled his vision couldn't be called a cloud, yet it carried a heavy promise within. It was only a matter of time before the clash and rumble sounded and the skies spilled their burden, cleansing him along with the countryside.
Iolaus stripped off his vest and tossed it aside. His boots were next, followed in rapid succession by his belts, leather pants and gauntlets. Naked he stood, arms spread wide and head flung back, and screamed at the heavens. Let the storms come. He was ready.