Written for Nina at obscene hours of the morning. 3
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He's found that smoke is one of the most interesting things to watch in the dark. Not that he can see it all too well, really, but the glow of street lamps outside is enough to give him something to see by. He's not really sure when he took on smoking, either, but as his nights became sleepless, he gained new companions.
James Wilson has a routine. He lays down with Chase, chats until the Aussie nods off, slips away, lights up one from his hidden pack and settles in at the table. He's not really sure what brought about this sudden change, but it has become ritualistic.
Most of the time, he uses his restlessness for thoughts. Which, really, if one knew him well enough, thought processes were never a good sign. Many times, he thought about getting up and just walking out of the apartment; walking down the street and never stopping. He thought about calling House to see if the man was still up doing something, maybe he'd want to sit around and watch a cheesy horror film? He thought about everything.
He wondered why he bothered with the blond that was sleeping just rooms away. He wondered if everything he was investing in this place was worth it, or if this was just a sign that it was failing. Hey, it was something different, after all. This one wasn't going down like the others with his wives--- oh no! Chase always liked to be different.
A bitter smile.
A drag.
Oh, he always liked to be the center of attention, the different one, the shining star--- anything. Hell, James was sure that Chase was thrilled just to be spoken to.
There was a hint of guilt that prodded at the back of his mind for thinking such things, but he just let out a small chuckle before taking another drag of his cigarette.
He was beginning to think these nights weren't healthy. Then again, neither was smoking, sleep deprivation, negative thoughts...
Just as he exhaled, smoke escaping his lips, he heard movement to the hallway. There was a flicker of momentary panic but the fire died in his chest and he realized, then, just how apathetic he had become. When Chase rounds the corner, James has already brought that cigarette back up for its final intake. The Aussie looks ruffled, his hair falling in ways James thought were gravitationally impossible.
But that was Chase.
Always different.
"Y'should come back to bed. 'M tired of smelling the smoke." Chase gave a silly grin that, somehow, coaxed one of similar nature from James.
The blond moved over to the oncologist and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, nuzzling his neck. Yawning, he sighed and looked sideways at the man, "'n if you don't, I'ma stay here 'n' wait 'till y'do."
James chuckled and put out the cigarette shaking his head, however, there was a light chuckle escaping his lips. So Chase knew the entire time. Oho, and he had thought he was being tricky!
"I'm coming..."
Robert pulled away and yawned, stretching his arms over his head before offering a hand out to the brunette. James was surprised, but did not decline the offer. He slipped his hand in the other's, their fingers lacing as the blond tugged the other down the hallway. He yawned and carried on about losing sleep the entire time, but James could only find a smile for the other's sleepy ramblings.
When they were curled back into bed, the blond was quick to snuggle close, his face resting just in against the oncologist's neck. James wrapped his arms around the Aussie, figuring once the other was out again, he'd get up and find himself another cigarette and let himself get pulled away into thought. However, it was the thick accent that brought him away from such ideas.
"Dream sweet..."
James could feel himself getting drowsy.
"Mmph, love you..."
Chase was always different.
