Unrelenting
Unreleting
The first thing House was aware of was light. He pried his eyes open and peered blearily in the direction of the unwelcome intrusion. Sunlight. Peeking through the blinds on his bedroom window. Morning? When did that happen? Think back, think back… Oh yeah, Wilson and his wonder drugs.
That stuff really knocked me for a loop. I don’t remember... oh shit. His awareness came slowly back to him and he realized just who he was holding. Wilson. Oh shit oh shit oh shit, he chanted. What did I say? Why is he letting me hold him like this?
He was still on his left side, spooned right up against Wilson with no space at all between them. His arm was still over Wilson’s waist and holding the man against himself tightly, his face pressed into the crook of Wilson’s neck.
As soon as his body realized exactly where it was, it registered its approval with the choice of positions and partners. A sudden rush of desire nearly overwhelmed him as it coursed through his body, flooding arms and legs and fingers and toes with warmth and a lovely tingling sensation. Most notably, he felt a nascent erection, and soon he wouldn’t be the only one feeling it. He held still for a moment and listened to Wilson’s breathing; still deep and even. Good, not awake yet then. Maybe he could beat back the morning wood before Wilson noticed then.
Wilson shifted a little in his sleep, tightening his fingers over House’s and brushing his ass lightly over House’s hardening cock, turning his face a little toward the light. House shut his eyes as the tingle started again and gasped a small breath. Maybe … maybe Wilson wouldn’t be opposed? Maybe he could get away with just a small kiss, just a little tiny kiss before the man woke up?
House opened his eyes again and steeled himself. He placed his lips lightly on Wilson’s warm neck, inhaling the scent of the man, a mix of aftershave and sweat and heat and sleep that was just immutably, incontrovertibly, undeniably Wilson. House pursed his lips slightly and softly kissed Wilson’s neck. He held his breath.
Wilson made a soft noise deep in his throat, a sleepy moan that nonetheless sent sparks shooting from House’s brain right down his spine. He kissed another spot on the younger man’s neck and received another moan in response, this time paired with a small shift of position, lifting his chin and baring more skin to House’s lips.
Probably is dreaming about some sexy nurse, House thought, kissing again, just under his ear, and flicking the skin lightly with the tip of his tongue. Need to stop...
Wilson’s breathing hitched with the touch of House’s tongue to his skin. He gasped lightly in his sleep, mouth working vaguely, and House just caught the whisper of a word as it escaped the sleeping man’s lips. “House…”
All time stopped and House blinked, eyelashes brushing against the warm skin of Wilson’s neck. Blood roared in his ears as he processed what he’d heard, what he thought he’d heard, maybe it was just a breath. Maybe he didn’t actually hear that. Maybe he should try kissing that spot again to see what happened.
He reached over and pressed his lips to the spot just under Wilson’s ear again, flicking his tongue over the skin a little harder. He was rewarded with a moan and two sleepy words. “Yes, House…” The younger man stretched his limbs languidly in his sleep and pressed back into House’s body, brushing his ass against House’s fully erect cock as he did so. Shivers passed up and down his body at the touch.
House stopped and pulled his lips away from Wilson’s neck reluctantly. He had to think. What were the choices here? Pull away, get out of the bed and pretend it didn’t exist. Pretend everything was a joke and laugh about it for a few days. Or, and this was the really dangerous one, continue. Kiss his neck, run his hands over Wilson’s chest and stomach, open the pants, find out if Wilson’s reputation was well-deserved. Dangerous, yes but also the most appealing, especially when he was laying in a warm bed after the best sleep he’d had in ages, his leg was thankfully, mercifully quiet for once and he had a warm, sleeping Wilson, who apparently did want him after all, lying in his arms, moaning for it.
Wilson grunted softly in his sleep, turning his face toward House and pushing himself backwards again, harder into House’s body. To hell with thinking. He resumed kissing Wilson’s neck, sucking at the skin slightly and flicking the tip of his tongue over places he’d just bitten. He loosened his fingers from the twisted edge of Wilson’s undershirt and ran his palm slowly up his belly and chest, stopping briefly to rub a circle over an erect nipple. Wilson groaned and arched back, breath catching, eyes flickering under closed eyelids. House watched the other man’s eyes as he slowly woke up, flickering open, squinting shut and then opening again, blinking rapidly. He stilled the movements of his hand and drew his lips back, breathing heavily against Wilson’s moist neck, waiting.
Finally Wilson’s eyes focused and he spoke, voice still thick with sleep. “Why’d you stop?”
House blinked. “Why’d I stop what?”
“Kissing me. Kissing my neck. Felt good.”
House tentatively tightened his arm again and brought his lips back to Wilson’s skin. “This feels good?” he asked, voice low and rough.
“Really good,” Wilson whispered, eyes sliding shut again. “Don’t stop.” He brought his hand up to House’s, grasping it in his own and pushing it over his own chest, guiding it. House groaned and nipped lightly at the skin of Wilson’s shoulder, moving aside the collar of his shirt with his nose. He brought his hand down and under the hem of the undershirt, pushing it up, and ran his hand over the hot skin of Wilson’s belly, tracing the line of fine hairs that ran up the middle of his belly from his belt to his chest, then separated and led the way to his nipples. He flicked his finger tips over first one, then the other, listening intently to the gasp and hitch in Wilson’s breath as he did so. He pushed the shirt up further and coaxed it over Wilson’s arms and head, balling it up and throwing it to the floor as soon as it was free.
His hand returned to Wilson’s chest and his lips returned to Wilson’s throat, pulling the man over onto his back for better access. Now that he could finally reach, he trailed his lips up the line of Wilson’s jaw, feeling the slight burn of morning stubble on his lips, scraping his tongue over the bristly skin. He ran his hand up Wilson’s side, rubbing the pad of his thumb over a nipple as he passed, and wrapped his hand around a strong bicep, pulling Wilson’s arm around himself. The man complied readily, bringing both arms up and around House’s back, fingers tracing the outlines of muscles, the flats of his palms rubbing and smoothing over the warm skin of House’s back.
Finally House had worked himself upwards enough to be able to kiss Wilson properly, and without wasting a second he did just that, touching his lips to Wilson’s softly, tentatively, hesitantly. Wilson smiled into the kiss and his eyes slid shut as he opened his mouth and sucked lightly on House’s top lip, then bottom, running his tongue along the outer edge of House’s mouth. He slid his tongue between House’s lips and touched the tip to House’s own. House moaned at the contact, thrusting his tongue roughly into Wilson’s mouth, moaning again when he felt Wilson sucking lightly on it and his hand tangling in House’s hair, pulling him even closer.
They continued to kiss and caress until House nearly couldn’t stand it any more, he had to feel Wilson, really feel him. He trailed a hand down to Wilson’s waistline and was a little frustrated to feel he still had his belt on as well as his pants. He went to work on the belt buckle but without being able to see, as he was currently occupied with Wilson’s fascinating lips and his intriguing tongue and didn’t want to let either of them go, he couldn’t get very far with unbuckling it. Wilson both heard and felt the frustrated groan House let out when he couldn’t get the belt to unfasten, and he chuckled quietly into the kiss. Finally he came to the rescue, breaking reluctantly away from House’s lips and tongue and moving far enough away that he could get to the belt buckle and undo it. He quickly moved on to the pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them as well, then moved to sit up and kneel so he could take them off, leaving House laying on his side, watching intently with his mouth open, moist lips parted.
Wilson pushed down the pants and boxers, disentangling himself from them and throwing them over the side of the bed, and House took his first look at Wilson, in all his naked glory, cock hard and straining, tiny bead of liquid oozing from the tip. House’s breath left him in a whoosh and his eyes widened, taking in the sight.
“Now you, too,” Wilson said, voice low and rough, husky with desire.
“Me … what?” House’s confusion resulting from the glorious sight before him made Wilson chuckle throatily.
“You get to lose you boxers now too,” Wilson said, leaning over House and pushing his shoulders down until he was laying on his back. When he was prone, Wilson moved down to House’s hips, hooking his fingers into the elastic and tugging the offending boxers down, over his hips, sliding them out from under his ass, and then lifting the elastic over House’s flushed, aching cock.
As he pulled, Wilson lowered his head and blew a stream of hot air over House’s bobbing erection, making it twitch and jump in response, and the man himself gasp and cry out. Wilson blew another breath out over House’s cock before working the boxers down and over his feet, tossing them aside. Coming back up, he stopped again and blew a third breath out, but this time instead of continuing upward he contemplated the erect member for a few seconds studiously, then tentatively reached out with his tongue and ran the tip of it from the base of House’s cock to the head, listening to House moan and watching him writhe on the bed. Then he did it again.
The third time Wilson did it he stopped at the head and sucked it lightly between his lips, running the tip of his tongue up and down the slit until he felt House’s hands land on his shoulders, grasping at him, pulling him upwards.
“Aaaahh … no, stop … have to stop,” House gasped.
“What’s the matter? Is it your leg?” Wilson was instantly alert and starting to move away when House grabbed him, one hand on his arm, the other in his hair, and pulled, hard.
“No, leg’s fine,” House panted, “but if you keep that up this’ll be over way too soon.” He grunted as Wilson landed on top of him, chest to chest, and a small part of his brain marveled at the way Wilson still managed to miss the sore leg, even with such a clumsy landing. He wrapped his arms tightly around Wilson’s back and held him close, devouring his lips in a searing kiss as Wilson got his knees under him and thrust his hips forward, rubbing their cocks together. House moaned into Wilson’s mouth, the contact almost too much to bear after all the teasing foreplay.
Wilson thrust again and again, each time rubbing his cock on alternate sides of House’s, first left, then right, then left again, until House had to break the kiss and gasp a deep breath, moaning harshly. He rolled a little to his left and took Wilson with him, so that they were lying on their sides facing each other. Wilson could no longer thrust against him, but now House could bring his hand down between them and grasp their two cocks together, pressing them tightly against one another.
Slowly he stroked up and down once, then released their joined cocks and collected the pre-ejaculate forming on both heads, smearing it around his palm and fingers. He then reached back down and grasped hold again, this time lubricated by their own fluids mixed together. The sensation of the slick slide of velvety skin over rock hard dicks shot straight through him and he was on the edge of orgasm much too quickly.
He released their joined cocks and reached up to find one of Wilson’s hands, pulling it down with him to join his on their throbbing cocks. Together they stroked up and down, swiping pads of thumbs over heads of cocks and using the fluid to lubricate. Soon Wilson’s rhythmic pumping turned erratic and desperate and he was panting against House’s shoulder.
“House, oh god, House, can’t ... can’t hold ... oh fuck!” He arched his back and stopped moving, stopped breathing, just stopped, quivering, muscles tensed, then started to come with a guttural cry, shooting hot semen up and over their joined fists, up his belly and over House’s stomach.
House lost himself in Wilson’s expression of sated bliss, his eyes shut, eyebrows raised and furrowed, mouth open, eminently kissable lips rounded in an “oh” shape. Finally he shot his last and opened his eyes again, gone so dark with lust and passion as to be almost black in the burgeoning morning light. His lips curled up into a satisfied smile. He shifted closer to House, kissing his lips separately, then together, then licking his way around them. He moved House’s hand off their still joined cocks, letting his spent and softening one drop and curling his hand tightly around House’s still hard, still throbbing, still quivering cock.
Wilson resumed pumping House’s cock using a long stroke and a quick rhythm, and all House could do was hang on for the ride. He clutched at Wilson’s shoulder, pulling him closer, desperately pillaging Wilson’s mouth with kisses and nibbles and licks until he could feel the hot coil of orgasm building in his groin, building quickly, reaching up House’s back and into his belly, radiating down his legs and up his arms and right into his brain as it exploded outward and he came hard, gasping for breath as he shot come up and over both their bellies, joining Wilson’s in making them sticky and slick.
When his awareness returned he found himself in Wilson’s arms, wrapped securely and held tight against the younger man. There was skin against his lips, so he kissed it, unsure of exactly where it was. Ah, throat, he thought when Wilson tilted his chin down and captured House’s lips with his own. He nuzzled against Wilson’s face, cheek, throat, kissing and licking whatever skin he could reach. Suddenly his stomach growled.
Wilson snorted laughter against his cheek. “See, I told you you should have eaten.”
“Oh, shut up.” House couldn’t help laughing as well.
Wilson disentangled his limbs from House’s, sitting back and reaching down off the bad. His hand returned with House’s t-shirt from the night before, which he used to swipe the worst of the mess off his own belly and then House’s. “Well, your breakfast choices are leftover spaghetti or going out. Which one do you want?”
“How about pancakes?” House asked, waggling his eyebrows and screwing his mouth down into a pout.
“I told you, you don’t have any food in the house. You don’t even have any ingredients to make food with. Spaghetti or a diner.”
“Fine, let’s go out for bacon and eggs.”
“How’s the leg? Need pills?” Wilson asked with an attempt at nonchalance as he turned the legs of his pants right side out.
“Good, actually, and I don’t think so. Not immediately. What was the name of that wonder drug of yours again?” House ran a hand over the ruined muscle, marveling a little at the experience of not waking up in pain.
“Tramadol.”
“Good. Write that down, it may come in handy again.”
Wilson smiled to himself, making sure to face away from House so he wouldn’t see. “Get dressed so we can go. Apparently we have a lot to talk about.”
“No we don’t. There’s nothing to talk about.” House frowned at Wilson darkly.
“You don’t think we need to talk about this,” Wilson stated disbelievingly.
“I’d rather talk about the drugs.”
Wilson’s eyebrows shot up. “Okay, we can talk about that too.”
House groaned and pressed a pillow over his face. “You’re not going to shut up until we talk, are you?” His voice was muffled but Wilson could still hear the strain.
“No, I’m not. I need to know, House. I need to know what all this was about.”
“You couldn’t tell? I thought it was fairly obvious from the mind-blowing orgasm. It’s about sex!”
Wilson scoffed. “No it wasn’t. Not exclusively.”
“Fine. You want to know what this was about? It was about this.” On the last word, House grabbed Wilson’s arm and yanked hard, pulling him off balance so that he landed sideways on the bed. House pounced, pinning him to the bed by his shoulders, good leg sliding in between Wilson’s and holding him down. He crashed his lips down onto Wilson’s in a deep, bruising kiss, invading, pillaging, owning. Wilson’s protests were swallowed by House until he was no longer protesting and instead moaning his approval.
And House’s stomach growled again.
He pulled back reluctantly, sighing. “Breakfast?”
Wilson smiled and chuckled lightly. “Breakfast,” he agreed. “Let’s go.”
The first thing House was aware of was light. He pried his eyes open and peered blearily in the direction of the unwelcome intrusion. Sunlight. Peeking through the blinds on his bedroom window. Morning? When did that happen? Think back, think back… Oh yeah, Wilson and his wonder drugs.
That stuff really knocked me for a loop. I don’t remember... oh shit. His awareness came slowly back to him and he realized just who he was holding. Wilson. Oh shit oh shit oh shit, he chanted. What did I say? Why is he letting me hold him like this?
He was still on his left side, spooned right up against Wilson with no space at all between them. His arm was still over Wilson’s waist and holding the man against himself tightly, his face pressed into the crook of Wilson’s neck.
As soon as his body realized exactly where it was, it registered its approval with the choice of positions and partners. A sudden rush of desire nearly overwhelmed him as it coursed through his body, flooding arms and legs and fingers and toes with warmth and a lovely tingling sensation. Most notably, he felt a nascent erection, and soon he wouldn’t be the only one feeling it. He held still for a moment and listened to Wilson’s breathing; still deep and even. Good, not awake yet then. Maybe he could beat back the morning wood before Wilson noticed then.
Wilson shifted a little in his sleep, tightening his fingers over House’s and brushing his ass lightly over House’s hardening cock, turning his face a little toward the light. House shut his eyes as the tingle started again and gasped a small breath. Maybe … maybe Wilson wouldn’t be opposed? Maybe he could get away with just a small kiss, just a little tiny kiss before the man woke up?
House opened his eyes again and steeled himself. He placed his lips lightly on Wilson’s warm neck, inhaling the scent of the man, a mix of aftershave and sweat and heat and sleep that was just immutably, incontrovertibly, undeniably Wilson. House pursed his lips slightly and softly kissed Wilson’s neck. He held his breath.
Wilson made a soft noise deep in his throat, a sleepy moan that nonetheless sent sparks shooting from House’s brain right down his spine. He kissed another spot on the younger man’s neck and received another moan in response, this time paired with a small shift of position, lifting his chin and baring more skin to House’s lips.
Probably is dreaming about some sexy nurse, House thought, kissing again, just under his ear, and flicking the skin lightly with the tip of his tongue. Need to stop...
Wilson’s breathing hitched with the touch of House’s tongue to his skin. He gasped lightly in his sleep, mouth working vaguely, and House just caught the whisper of a word as it escaped the sleeping man’s lips. “House…”
All time stopped and House blinked, eyelashes brushing against the warm skin of Wilson’s neck. Blood roared in his ears as he processed what he’d heard, what he thought he’d heard, maybe it was just a breath. Maybe he didn’t actually hear that. Maybe he should try kissing that spot again to see what happened.
He reached over and pressed his lips to the spot just under Wilson’s ear again, flicking his tongue over the skin a little harder. He was rewarded with a moan and two sleepy words. “Yes, House…” The younger man stretched his limbs languidly in his sleep and pressed back into House’s body, brushing his ass against House’s fully erect cock as he did so. Shivers passed up and down his body at the touch.
House stopped and pulled his lips away from Wilson’s neck reluctantly. He had to think. What were the choices here? Pull away, get out of the bed and pretend it didn’t exist. Pretend everything was a joke and laugh about it for a few days. Or, and this was the really dangerous one, continue. Kiss his neck, run his hands over Wilson’s chest and stomach, open the pants, find out if Wilson’s reputation was well-deserved. Dangerous, yes but also the most appealing, especially when he was laying in a warm bed after the best sleep he’d had in ages, his leg was thankfully, mercifully quiet for once and he had a warm, sleeping Wilson, who apparently did want him after all, lying in his arms, moaning for it.
Wilson grunted softly in his sleep, turning his face toward House and pushing himself backwards again, harder into House’s body. To hell with thinking. He resumed kissing Wilson’s neck, sucking at the skin slightly and flicking the tip of his tongue over places he’d just bitten. He loosened his fingers from the twisted edge of Wilson’s undershirt and ran his palm slowly up his belly and chest, stopping briefly to rub a circle over an erect nipple. Wilson groaned and arched back, breath catching, eyes flickering under closed eyelids. House watched the other man’s eyes as he slowly woke up, flickering open, squinting shut and then opening again, blinking rapidly. He stilled the movements of his hand and drew his lips back, breathing heavily against Wilson’s moist neck, waiting.
Finally Wilson’s eyes focused and he spoke, voice still thick with sleep. “Why’d you stop?”
House blinked. “Why’d I stop what?”
“Kissing me. Kissing my neck. Felt good.”
House tentatively tightened his arm again and brought his lips back to Wilson’s skin. “This feels good?” he asked, voice low and rough.
“Really good,” Wilson whispered, eyes sliding shut again. “Don’t stop.” He brought his hand up to House’s, grasping it in his own and pushing it over his own chest, guiding it. House groaned and nipped lightly at the skin of Wilson’s shoulder, moving aside the collar of his shirt with his nose. He brought his hand down and under the hem of the undershirt, pushing it up, and ran his hand over the hot skin of Wilson’s belly, tracing the line of fine hairs that ran up the middle of his belly from his belt to his chest, then separated and led the way to his nipples. He flicked his finger tips over first one, then the other, listening intently to the gasp and hitch in Wilson’s breath as he did so. He pushed the shirt up further and coaxed it over Wilson’s arms and head, balling it up and throwing it to the floor as soon as it was free.
His hand returned to Wilson’s chest and his lips returned to Wilson’s throat, pulling the man over onto his back for better access. Now that he could finally reach, he trailed his lips up the line of Wilson’s jaw, feeling the slight burn of morning stubble on his lips, scraping his tongue over the bristly skin. He ran his hand up Wilson’s side, rubbing the pad of his thumb over a nipple as he passed, and wrapped his hand around a strong bicep, pulling Wilson’s arm around himself. The man complied readily, bringing both arms up and around House’s back, fingers tracing the outlines of muscles, the flats of his palms rubbing and smoothing over the warm skin of House’s back.
Finally House had worked himself upwards enough to be able to kiss Wilson properly, and without wasting a second he did just that, touching his lips to Wilson’s softly, tentatively, hesitantly. Wilson smiled into the kiss and his eyes slid shut as he opened his mouth and sucked lightly on House’s top lip, then bottom, running his tongue along the outer edge of House’s mouth. He slid his tongue between House’s lips and touched the tip to House’s own. House moaned at the contact, thrusting his tongue roughly into Wilson’s mouth, moaning again when he felt Wilson sucking lightly on it and his hand tangling in House’s hair, pulling him even closer.
They continued to kiss and caress until House nearly couldn’t stand it any more, he had to feel Wilson, really feel him. He trailed a hand down to Wilson’s waistline and was a little frustrated to feel he still had his belt on as well as his pants. He went to work on the belt buckle but without being able to see, as he was currently occupied with Wilson’s fascinating lips and his intriguing tongue and didn’t want to let either of them go, he couldn’t get very far with unbuckling it. Wilson both heard and felt the frustrated groan House let out when he couldn’t get the belt to unfasten, and he chuckled quietly into the kiss. Finally he came to the rescue, breaking reluctantly away from House’s lips and tongue and moving far enough away that he could get to the belt buckle and undo it. He quickly moved on to the pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them as well, then moved to sit up and kneel so he could take them off, leaving House laying on his side, watching intently with his mouth open, moist lips parted.
Wilson pushed down the pants and boxers, disentangling himself from them and throwing them over the side of the bed, and House took his first look at Wilson, in all his naked glory, cock hard and straining, tiny bead of liquid oozing from the tip. House’s breath left him in a whoosh and his eyes widened, taking in the sight.
“Now you, too,” Wilson said, voice low and rough, husky with desire.
“Me … what?” House’s confusion resulting from the glorious sight before him made Wilson chuckle throatily.
“You get to lose you boxers now too,” Wilson said, leaning over House and pushing his shoulders down until he was laying on his back. When he was prone, Wilson moved down to House’s hips, hooking his fingers into the elastic and tugging the offending boxers down, over his hips, sliding them out from under his ass, and then lifting the elastic over House’s flushed, aching cock.
As he pulled, Wilson lowered his head and blew a stream of hot air over House’s bobbing erection, making it twitch and jump in response, and the man himself gasp and cry out. Wilson blew another breath out over House’s cock before working the boxers down and over his feet, tossing them aside. Coming back up, he stopped again and blew a third breath out, but this time instead of continuing upward he contemplated the erect member for a few seconds studiously, then tentatively reached out with his tongue and ran the tip of it from the base of House’s cock to the head, listening to House moan and watching him writhe on the bed. Then he did it again.
The third time Wilson did it he stopped at the head and sucked it lightly between his lips, running the tip of his tongue up and down the slit until he felt House’s hands land on his shoulders, grasping at him, pulling him upwards.
“Aaaahh … no, stop … have to stop,” House gasped.
“What’s the matter? Is it your leg?” Wilson was instantly alert and starting to move away when House grabbed him, one hand on his arm, the other in his hair, and pulled, hard.
“No, leg’s fine,” House panted, “but if you keep that up this’ll be over way too soon.” He grunted as Wilson landed on top of him, chest to chest, and a small part of his brain marveled at the way Wilson still managed to miss the sore leg, even with such a clumsy landing. He wrapped his arms tightly around Wilson’s back and held him close, devouring his lips in a searing kiss as Wilson got his knees under him and thrust his hips forward, rubbing their cocks together. House moaned into Wilson’s mouth, the contact almost too much to bear after all the teasing foreplay.
Wilson thrust again and again, each time rubbing his cock on alternate sides of House’s, first left, then right, then left again, until House had to break the kiss and gasp a deep breath, moaning harshly. He rolled a little to his left and took Wilson with him, so that they were lying on their sides facing each other. Wilson could no longer thrust against him, but now House could bring his hand down between them and grasp their two cocks together, pressing them tightly against one another.
Slowly he stroked up and down once, then released their joined cocks and collected the pre-ejaculate forming on both heads, smearing it around his palm and fingers. He then reached back down and grasped hold again, this time lubricated by their own fluids mixed together. The sensation of the slick slide of velvety skin over rock hard dicks shot straight through him and he was on the edge of orgasm much too quickly.
He released their joined cocks and reached up to find one of Wilson’s hands, pulling it down with him to join his on their throbbing cocks. Together they stroked up and down, swiping pads of thumbs over heads of cocks and using the fluid to lubricate. Soon Wilson’s rhythmic pumping turned erratic and desperate and he was panting against House’s shoulder.
“House, oh god, House, can’t ... can’t hold ... oh fuck!” He arched his back and stopped moving, stopped breathing, just stopped, quivering, muscles tensed, then started to come with a guttural cry, shooting hot semen up and over their joined fists, up his belly and over House’s stomach.
House lost himself in Wilson’s expression of sated bliss, his eyes shut, eyebrows raised and furrowed, mouth open, eminently kissable lips rounded in an “oh” shape. Finally he shot his last and opened his eyes again, gone so dark with lust and passion as to be almost black in the burgeoning morning light. His lips curled up into a satisfied smile. He shifted closer to House, kissing his lips separately, then together, then licking his way around them. He moved House’s hand off their still joined cocks, letting his spent and softening one drop and curling his hand tightly around House’s still hard, still throbbing, still quivering cock.
Wilson resumed pumping House’s cock using a long stroke and a quick rhythm, and all House could do was hang on for the ride. He clutched at Wilson’s shoulder, pulling him closer, desperately pillaging Wilson’s mouth with kisses and nibbles and licks until he could feel the hot coil of orgasm building in his groin, building quickly, reaching up House’s back and into his belly, radiating down his legs and up his arms and right into his brain as it exploded outward and he came hard, gasping for breath as he shot come up and over both their bellies, joining Wilson’s in making them sticky and slick.
When his awareness returned he found himself in Wilson’s arms, wrapped securely and held tight against the younger man. There was skin against his lips, so he kissed it, unsure of exactly where it was. Ah, throat, he thought when Wilson tilted his chin down and captured House’s lips with his own. He nuzzled against Wilson’s face, cheek, throat, kissing and licking whatever skin he could reach. Suddenly his stomach growled.
Wilson snorted laughter against his cheek. “See, I told you you should have eaten.”
“Oh, shut up.” House couldn’t help laughing as well.
Wilson disentangled his limbs from House’s, sitting back and reaching down off the bad. His hand returned with House’s t-shirt from the night before, which he used to swipe the worst of the mess off his own belly and then House’s. “Well, your breakfast choices are leftover spaghetti or going out. Which one do you want?”
“How about pancakes?” House asked, waggling his eyebrows and screwing his mouth down into a pout.
“I told you, you don’t have any food in the house. You don’t even have any ingredients to make food with. Spaghetti or a diner.”
“Fine, let’s go out for bacon and eggs.”
“How’s the leg? Need pills?” Wilson asked with an attempt at nonchalance as he turned the legs of his pants right side out.
“Good, actually, and I don’t think so. Not immediately. What was the name of that wonder drug of yours again?” House ran a hand over the ruined muscle, marveling a little at the experience of not waking up in pain.
“Tramadol.”
“Good. Write that down, it may come in handy again.”
Wilson smiled to himself, making sure to face away from House so he wouldn’t see. “Get dressed so we can go. Apparently we have a lot to talk about.”
“No we don’t. There’s nothing to talk about.” House frowned at Wilson darkly.
“You don’t think we need to talk about this,” Wilson stated disbelievingly.
“I’d rather talk about the drugs.”
Wilson’s eyebrows shot up. “Okay, we can talk about that too.”
House groaned and pressed a pillow over his face. “You’re not going to shut up until we talk, are you?” His voice was muffled but Wilson could still hear the strain.
“No, I’m not. I need to know, House. I need to know what all this was about.”
“You couldn’t tell? I thought it was fairly obvious from the mind-blowing orgasm. It’s about sex!”
Wilson scoffed. “No it wasn’t. Not exclusively.”
“Fine. You want to know what this was about? It was about this.” On the last word, House grabbed Wilson’s arm and yanked hard, pulling him off balance so that he landed sideways on the bed. House pounced, pinning him to the bed by his shoulders, good leg sliding in between Wilson’s and holding him down. He crashed his lips down onto Wilson’s in a deep, bruising kiss, invading, pillaging, owning. Wilson’s protests were swallowed by House until he was no longer protesting and instead moaning his approval.
And House’s stomach growled again.
He pulled back reluctantly, sighing. “Breakfast?”
Wilson smiled and chuckled lightly. “Breakfast,” he agreed. “Let’s go.”