There's ALWAYS wine... (Tag doc-suresh)

[wastrel_prince]

Darvish couldn't sleep. He felt sick. He needed a drink. Mohinder didn't understand. He jutted his jaw stubbornly. After all he'd been through, he deserved a drink. He slid out of bed as quietly as he could. There had to be wine somewhere.

He walked down the hall, his steps unsteady, one hand on the wall. He felt so godsdamned weak. Now, where

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[doc_suresh]

Mohinder hummed as he rolled over in his large bed, arm sliding across the cooling fabric where Darvish had been not five minutes before. "Mmmfmmbm." He yawned, stretching his legs out as he slowly woke. Where was his lover? Maybe he went to the restroom...

[wastrel_prince]

Darvish drained half of the remaining wine quickly, holding the bottle with increasingly steady hands.

[doc_suresh]

Mohinder lifted his head, looking around the room with mostly closed eyes. "Mmmdrvsh..." he mumbled sleepily. Then he cleared his throat and said a bit more loudly, "Darvish?"

[wastrel_prince]

He felt a flash of guilt at the voice, then anger at the guilt. It was his life, dammit. Mohinder didn't have the right. He set his lips defiantly and took another swig from the bottle.