After

His dark eyes were half-lidded with something between laziness and smug contentment, a lit cigarette hanging loosely between slack lips. Messy blonde hair hung into his face; blinking once, he crossed his eyes, staring at it. The transition back to the bright, bleached color had been more of a relief than he would have thought; years of habit were hard to break.

Dark-lined eyelids drooped again, and he exhaled a large cloud of smoke. Black hair was so boring, anyway.

A weight depressed the cushions beside him; he didn’t even need to look over to know who it was. Fingers plucked the cigarette from his lips, and he could hear his new companion taking a deep drag.

“Get your own.” It was more a comment than a command; he really didn’t mind all that much. Within a few seconds, the cancer stick was back between his lips. He inhaled, satisfied.

“Sweet talk, considering that’s my pack on the table.”

“Really.”

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, any awkwardness common to such instances lost years ago. Somewhere between awake and dozing, he heard the click of a lighter, and saw the flare of a newly-lit cigarette out of the corner of his eye.

“You know…” He stretched his legs out lazily, sinking back into the couch. “I hear that most places in this country don’t let you smoke anymore.”

“Huh.” Another pause; the sound of a long drag. “Land of the free my ass.” They both laughed quietly, simply enjoying one another’s company. It was rare; a quiet moment like this, and each was taking advantage.

“Land of the insane, maybe.” He plucked the remains of the cigarette from between his lips, crushing it into an ashtray before lighting up another. “Thought they were going to kill each other, down in the pit.”

“Mm.” He felt a hand rest on the back of his head, ruffling his hair softly. “You encourage them too much.” A grunt in reply. Silence. “… I think I missed the blonde.”

His eyes closed completely as the hand began to stroke his hair in earnest. A soft sound escaped his lips, somewhere between a sigh and a purr. “Maybe I miss the purple.”

A chuckle. “Let’s not get drastic.”

He leaned over as the hand began to move away from his scalp, absently continuing to do so until he was pressed up against his companion. The hand returned along with a sound that could have been resignation or amusement, and he smiled.

“I think I spoil you.”

“Mm. But you love it.”

After a few moments, the hand left his hair, moving to rest on his bare stomach as an arm wrapped around his waist. “You could have put a shirt back on.”

“I could have.”

Trails of smoke curled above both their heads, slowly floating up towards the ceiling. He felt long, string-calloused fingers tracing absent patterns along the taut muscles of his stomach, and couldn’t help but squirm a little. The fingers shifted downwards, moving their patterns to the rough fabric coating his thigh, where he was not quite so ticklish. He felt himself begin to drift off, conscious only of the warm body beside him and the cigarette in his mouth.

“What do you think?” The slight rumbling in his companion’s chest caused by his words roused him. He blinked slowly, trying to piece together some meaning from what had been said.

“About?”

“Should we come back?”

He paused, thinking; unable to answer right away. Raising a hand to his lips, he inhaled a large cloud of nicotine-infused smoke before removing the cigarette and setting it down in the ashtray.

“… Maybe.” Almost unconsciously, he turned his head, nuzzling into the other man’s shoulder as he instinctively sought out warmth. “I want a bigger stage, though.”

Though he couldn’t see it, he could hear the smile in the other man’s voice. “Of course.”

They remained that way, silently absorbing the gentle comfort of each other’s companionship until the last sounds of the crowd died away, and the shared pack of cigarettes had been exhausted