The last time Bodhi spent the night, he sat in a corner while Jude dozed on the couch, fitfully trying to tend the fire through the night and make sure Bodhi hadn't wandered off into the cold and dark again. He doesn't know there's any other intent this time, though the setting improves his chance of real sleep. Not that rattling house full of empty rooms. Someone else to watch the fire, a furnace keeping the upper level warm.

It isn't Bodhi's fault that he doesn't usually sleep. Jude can't imagine the caution is in any way Bodhi's fault either. There have been times he's tried to puzzle out the reason, but he backs off of those thoughts as readily as he does his considerations of the specimen room.

Bodhi's never offered a reason, and Jude is a little afraid to ask.

He likes that Bodhi is asking, though. Not as much as he likes Bodhi's fingers in his hair: it softens up his face, makes him blink a few times. Instinctively ready for a kiss, not a question, and he drops his gaze between them as he recovers. Instinct also says to give Bodhi another I'm fine, but Jude finds himself already shaking his head. He stops, caught between what would be an obvious lie, and wanting to do it anyway. He likes to be honest, if he's going to say anything at all, but he has always lied about this. Lifting his head back up, his eyes don't quite make the journey. "I'm - "

He is okay: he's indoors, he's got food and all of his limbs intact. The truth beyond that sets his heart crawling up to his throat. "Not here." An answer, in an obtuse way, but also a request. "Can we go upstairs first?"