Wilson smells like cinnamon.
Chase isn't sure when exactly he had come to this realization, or how he feels about it for that matter, but it's true. The man radiates the scent wherever he goes, it clings to his clothes and his pillows and by now, Chase knows that Wilson's approaching by the faint smell of cinnamon in the air.
Even now, especially now, he could smell it. It wrapped itself around both of them, the smell almost overpowering him as Wilson's fingers tightened in his hair and their kiss deepened. In fact, he was starting to think that it went beyond scent, he could /taste/ it on him, he was sure of it.
Or maybe that was just him.