Fic: Surge, House/Wilson, NC-17, another quicky
Surge
He loves to take House when he is fresh from the shower, smelling faintly of lemon, hair still wet, body warm and relaxed. It is always over quickly. He doesn’t even undress properly until after. Just pushes down his pajama pants and pushes in, House letting out a small and soft, involuntary moan, looking up at him with those big blue eyes. All this gets him off every time, no matter what happened that day between them, if they are on good terms, or not. House’s soft, almost musical voice when he takes it, so unlike his commanding, acerbic tone or the low, gravely murmur when he says something mean. He loves nothing more than to hear House’s voice become high and breathy and desperate; and it breaks so beautifully when he comes.
He loves to take House when he is fresh from the shower, smelling faintly of lemon, hair still wet, body warm and relaxed. It is always over quickly. He doesn’t even undress properly until after. Just pushes down his pajama pants and pushes in, House letting out a small and soft, involuntary moan, looking up at him with those big blue eyes. All this gets him off every time, no matter what happened that day between them, if they are on good terms, or not. House’s soft, almost musical voice when he takes it, so unlike his commanding, acerbic tone or the low, gravely murmur when he says something mean. He loves nothing more than to hear House’s voice become high and breathy and desperate; and it breaks so beautifully when he comes.