Rain on my parade

[dr_gregoryhouse]

Who: House, Wilson
Where: Wilson's car > House's apartment
What: Driving home from Atlantic City
When: End of the weekend vacation

Complete

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[dr_gregoryhouse]

"Gorilla-gram," House replied, still staring absently out the window. "One that wears a tutu and dances to bad rap music."

In any other situation, House would've found that amusing. Probably would've put plans in place to order her a Gorilla-gram just for the hell of it. Maybe he'd get the Gorilla to deliver his birthday rap dance in a tutu to Cuddy at a meeting. One of those meetings where Cuddy had to make an impression with her CEO. God, imagine how angry she'd be at him if he did that. He could just picture the look of indignant rage on her face while she told him off. In spite of himself, House started to smile in amusement at his thoughts.

Then he sobered when he remembered again that the next time he saw Cuddy, it would probably be as horrifically awkward as it was the last time. More than that, what about between Wilson and himself? He glanced across at Wilson surreptitiously. He had a sudden impulse to tell Wilson to do a one-eighty and head straight back to Atlantic City, back to where none of this mattered there.

He sighed and shifted in his seat to get more comfortable. "I'm tired," he said, lifting his hands up to his face. He rubbed his eyes and scrubbed his face, then dropped his hands back to his lap. "Too much exercise over the weekend."

[dr_j_wilson]

"As opposed to one that dances to good rap music," Wilson said, smirking slightly. "I'd fear for the monkey, personally. Heaven forbid it stand on her desk or something of the sort."

The smirk he wore turned into something of a smile and he looked to his right to see House glancing at him. Wilson raised an eyebrow curiously and then looked foward again. As entertaining as the image was, he could sense the weight that hung from the subject. It was almost as if the air inside the car momentarily shifted. Wilson saw no reason why their returning home should automatically mean fearing the worst. Well, actually he did see the reasons - he just preferred to think that the situation with Cuddy was at least partially behind them. The issues surrounding it weren't, he knew.

He inhaled deeply through his nose and locked his elbows, tightening his grip on the steering wheel and twisting his head to the side. His neck didn't pop, but it felt good to stretch the muscles. Then he looked to House again. "Me too," he said. "A consequence worth suffering, though, in my opinion." His voice was barely suggestive, but his eyes lingered on House curiously for a moment in hopes that he'd see some form of agreement.

It was true that he'd enjoyed their weekend immensely, and it was also true that home didn't seem like a terribly bright alternative. But Wilson was determined to at least try and take some of the weekend with them. The point had been, after all, not just to escape Princeton but to get through some of the tension they'd endured. They'd accomplished that to a point, as far as he was concerned, and didn't intend to let go of it just because they were four exits away from home.

[dr_gregoryhouse]

"Hey, I'm not complaining," House replied. He looked across to Wilson, lolling his head against the headrest. "It's a consequence I'm willing to continue to suffer."

He met Wilson's eyes and gave him a brief thin-lipped smile, then turned his attention back to the window again. He caught a glimpse of the green signpost saying the exit to Princeton was 10 miles away. He sighed and closed his eyes, deciding to catnap the rest of the way to his place. He wanted to ignore the tension that had fallen between Wilson and himself for as long as he could.

The motion of the car and the rhythmic sound of the windscreen wipers was enough to lull House into a doze. Though, when he felt the shift in speed of the car as they pulled off the highway he cracked his eyes open and saw suburban lights and streets passing by. He shut his eyes again and tried to ignore the stopping and starting motion of the car as Wilson pulled up at traffic lights and then pulled off again a few moments later.

Eventually, he felt the car slow right down and when the car came to a complete stop he knew they were outside his apartment. He opened his eyes again and peered through the steamed up window at his apartment. A feeling of heaviness instantly fell over him.

He looked across at Wilson. "You coming in?"

[dr_j_wilson]

"Oh, good," Wilson returned in mock-relief. Though he then smiled momentarily, too, before shifting his hold on the wheel and facing foward again.

After merging onto I-295 toward Trenton it didn't take very long for the trees to begin thinning and the buildings to begin thickening. Wilson set the wipers to speed control and turned the volume down a few notches once they were a few miles from the center of the city, content to let House sleep in favor of focusing on the familiar streets.

Traffic loosened and in what seemed like only a few moments, Wilson was turning onto House's street. He parked next to the USA Today paper dispenser just adjacent to the building and looked at House, hesitant to say anything. Journey over. There was no nice way to look at that - not when the journey had been as delightful as it had. Not when compared to the same old, same old. Even then, Wilson wasn't sure what to expect now, and that was unsettling. He could tell by looking at House that he felt it too.

"Yeah," Wilson said after a moment. He turned the car off and unbuckled his seatbelt, shifting around to grab House's duffel bag from the back seat.

The idea of going to his place alone didn't lift his spirits any; he knew it was inevitable, but he certainly preferred to go inside. Even if only for a little while. He wanted some confirmation that things were alright and would continue to be despite the fact that they didn't have the hotel's queen-sized bed or Atlantic City to sheild them from their real lives.

Wilson followed House up the steps and through the door. Once he'd stepped over the threshold and taken in the living room, the air felt stagnant again. He dropped House's duffel on the floor next to the couch and turned to face him, wondering how House's leg was fairing.

"Didn't take as long to get back," he mused. "It always seems like the trip back is quicker."

[dr_gregoryhouse]

House scowled as he flicked rain off his jacket and then rubbed it out of his hair when he got inside his apartment. It was bucketing outside, and standing on the front stoop while he wrestled with keys to open the door in as much a hurry as he caused him to get near soaked.

"That's because the time-space continuum likes to shift into hyperdrive just for you, while you make your way home, get you there faster because the fun's over," he replied gruffly as he shrugged out of his wet jacket. He shook it, sending a fine spray of water to the floor, then tossed the jacket over the back of his couch. "Just like how bills always travel through the mail twice as fast as regular post."

He headed through his apartment, unable to shake the scowl from his face, though it wasn't over getting wet. He was home. Back in his apartment, back to reality. Back to everything he and Wilson had gone to Atlantic City to escape. He was thirsty - more than that, he wanted something to occupy himself with while being faced with the fact that he was home. He yanked the fridge open when he reached the kitchen and pulled a beer out. He popped the lid open and took a swig before limping back out into the living room.

He stopped and took another swig of his beer, peering across the room at Wilson. "You going to stick around for a bit?"

[dr_j_wilson]

Wilson slipped out of his own jacket as House wandered into the kitchen, brushing his damp hair back as he hung it on the coat stand next to the door. His shirt clung to his shoulders uncomfortably, but Wilson didn't pay it much attention. Instead he walked further into the living room, pressing one hand into his lower back and stretching a bit. Wilson had expected the gruffness in House's voice. He understood it, just preferred to try and ignore it. Or at least what it represented. It would be easy to let all the things they'd yet to deal with seep in and weigh him down, and he was adamant about attempting to keep the wary feelings of apprehension at bay. It had been a vacation. Returning was part of it, he told himself.

His eyes drifted aimlessly to the floor and then the coffee table, but he turned his head when House spoke. He nodded. "Sure. I'm not in any hurry to get anywhere."

As if to seal just how lacking in motivation he was to get home, he stepped closer to the couch and lowered himself onto it. The magazines on the coffee table were in the same place as he remembered, and the familiar smell of the apartment was slightly disconcerting. He looked back up at House at the memory of the last time they'd been here. The shower came to mind, of course, but Wilson's mind settled on things prior.

Suddenly, Wilson had the urge to cancel those memories out. There was no doubt in his mind that things had to return to the way they had been before their weekend. No doubt in his mind that reality gave them no choice. Regardless, he had the distinct need to prove that they were still very much the same people they were back in that hotel room. Even if that just meant House being close to him. Riding in the car hadn't felt that way, and perhaps if Wilson could adjust the distance between them, it would be a bit easier to breathe this 'home' air.

He raised a hand and gestured for House to sit next to him. "Come here."

[dr_gregoryhouse]

House watched Wilson move across to the couch. He took another swig of his beer and then started to look around his living room. The awkwardness was making it almost impossible to look at Wilson because every time their eyes met it was like recognition of this tension that had fallen between them.

Really, he was foolish to think everything was going to be great when they got back to Princeton. He could remember that feeling of contentment he'd felt yesterday morning when at breakfast - he should've known that wasn't going to last. Just about to go back into the kitchen to fetch Wilson a beer, just for something to do, House looked across at Wilson when asked to go over to him.

He hesitated. He wasn't sure he wanted to be close to Wilson physically, even just in the form of sitting next to him, while he felt like coming home had driven a wedge between them again. Maybe this would pass, though. Maybe it was just the anticlimax of coming home from a great weekend away and once they got back into the swing of every day life this tension would blow over.

House wasn't optimistic enough by nature to even hold onto that thought. He stared at the spot on the couch next to Wilson, debating whether to go over or stay right where he was, then heaved a sigh and slowly made his way across the living room.

He slumped down onto the couch and threw a glance across at Wilson. He wasn't really sure what to do or say because he was too aware of how heavy the air felt between them. He didn't want to address it, either. No idea what to really say, he offered his beer towards Wilson and said, "Want some?"

[dr_j_wilson]

Wilson raised his eyebrows at House's hesitation. Okay, so the air was thick enough to be cut with a blade. Apparently, House was just as caught up in the fog of it as Wilson was. Perhaps moreso. When House sighed and approached, Wilson faced foward again. He eyed the remote sitting on the table but decided against the television. House was doing well enough to avoid the wall that had somehow bricked up between them without distraction and watching the soaps wouldn't do either of them any good.

Keeping his eyes low, Wilson focused on an invisible spot for a second, trying to decide how to deal with this. If returning home was going to be this difficult, God only knew how they'd fair at pursuing issues. Which Wilson wasn't very keen on doing, either. His eyes darted to the beer he was offered and then drifted toward House. Wilson frowned for a moment, but was quick to let it fade, and took the can of Miller without saying anything.

He gulped down a swallow and then considered giving it back to House, but abruptly set it on the table instead. Shifting to the left, he faced House with a determined look on his face.

A part of him was mildly irritated. Not so much by House's avoidance, but just the fact that this was unavoidable. Wilson almost wanted to ask him if he was going to voice his thoughts or continue to make awkward expressions, but he stopped himself. It wasn't House's fault that things were tense. Wilson wasn't going to pretend they weren't, though.

"How's the leg?" he settled on lamely. It was either that, or reaching his hand across the couch to squeeze House's, and something told Wilson that House might be too ill at ease to just jump right into things. This wasn't Atlantic City, after all. This was...frustrating.

[dr_gregoryhouse]

House threw Wilson a look equal parts questioning and incredulous. How was his leg? He looked away again, frowning at how stupidly awkward this was. "Oh," he replied, his tone sharp with sarcasm, "peachy keen. The leg says hi to you, too."

He dropped his eyes down to the TV remote. Maybe turning the TV on would stunt the tension. He couldn't bring himself to sit forward and reach for it, though, because he didn't want this weekend to end on a sour note. And getting defensive about it was only going to make things worse.

He let his head dropped back against the couch with a sigh. Why couldn't they have just stayed in Atlantic City? Well... he knew that wasn't realistic at all. But, boy, he wished it was. He lolled his head against the back of the couch to look across at Wilson. He wanted to say exactly as he was thinking - that he wished they didn't have to return to any of this. He was even tempted to ask Wilson to come to bed with him. Sex would be a good way to push all of this aside, ignore being back home.

He stretched his hand across Wilson's lap and dropped it onto his thigh, and gave it a half hearted squeeze.

[dr_j_wilson]

Wilson's lips formed a thin line and he looked foward again, sitting rigidly and staring at the black screen of the TV. House's reply was discouraging and Wilson considered the thought that perhaps sitting here in House's living room wasn't going to make things better so much as worse. Leaving was out of the question, he gave no thought to standing and bidding House farewell. It was just so damn frustrating. He wanted so badly for things to be alright for once. It wasn't going to be easy, it never was, he'd more than learned that by now. But after the time they'd shared, it was almost painful to be suffocated like this. Certainly disheartening.

Especially when the same person from yesterday morning was sitting next to him. Wilson clenched his jaw in silence and slid a hand wearily over his face, scratching his cheek. This was ridiculous. Nothing had to go to pieces, nor should it. Not after all the good they'd experienced. They'd get through things. He wanted to tell House, maybe even command, that they'd get through this.

Just as Wilson turned his head and opened his mouth to say something, anything, to break the god forsaken and somewhat inexplicably dramatic stalemate, he felt House's hand on his leg. His eyes dropped down to it and stayed there. Thank God. Something. It seemed laughable that he had to bite back a sigh of relief. It had just been a car ride. It was just Princeton. Just life.

Wilson's eyes flickered back to House, noting the way his head had fallen to rest against the couch almost wearily. He dropped his hand over House's, resting it their lightly for a moment before clasping his fingers.

"All the pillows I've read say something about home being sweet," he said quietly, stretching his lips to one side before continuing. "I guess they left out terrifying and not at all comforting."

He gave House's hand a gentle squeeze and then shifted, leaning in closer to him and cupping House's cheek. Wilson pressed a brief, closed mouth kiss against his lips. The air was still thick, the tension was still there, and Wilson's muscles were still knotted and tight - but he wanted House to understand that he was there. They were still them. Environment be what it may.

[dr_gregoryhouse]

House lowered his eyes to watch Wilson's fingers clasping his hand. He idly ran his thumb up and down the back of Wilson's hand, feeling a sense of glumness settling in. After how good things were in Atlantic City, House felt almost cheated to be back home and thrown back into a stymie. He wasn't ready to deal with this, god damn it. He'd wanted to just come home, enjoy what was left of the weekend and... have all their issues dealt with and over. Except they hadn't actually dealt with much, just slapped a bandaid over everything, and coming home from Atlantic City was the equivalent of peeling that bandaid away.

He glanced at Wilson when Wilson spoke, and snorted humourlessly. "Yeah, home is real sweet," he said dryly, looking back down to his lap. Home sweet welcome back to reality, he thought bitterly. Feeling Wilson's hand on his cheek, House looked back to him and let Wilson kiss him, briefly closing his eyes. He opened them again and studied Wilson's face before leaning back in and pressing their lips together again. He drew the second kiss out longer, then settled his head back against the couch once more once the kiss ended.

So, what now? Hang around awkwardly like this? Tell Wilson to go home? House wasn't willing to just drop everything that happened over the weekend just yet. He wasn't willing to sit here and brood, either, just like he wasn't willing to sit here and try not to think about all their unresolved issues. Sex wasn't going to solve anything long-term. But sex worked for them. It was easier, too, than to talk.

"Come to bed with me," he said quietly.

[dr_j_wilson]

A part of Wilson was very clearly aware that they'd come to no conclusions, and also knew that this wouldn't bring them any. He was also aware of the fact that attempting to work the problems right now wasn't necessarily the best course of action. What he needed, and what he hoped he could give House, was confirmation. Assurance that nothing had been lost; remind each other, perhaps, that nothing had been left behind in that hotel room.

There was also the fact that House had never actually asked before. Not outright. The shiver it sent through Wilson, starting at the back of his neck and flooding through his body like welcome warmth, was undeniable. He kept his eyes on House for another moment, taking in his face and the frustration and stress that lined it, before nodding. "Alright," he replied just as quietly. Wilson stayed sitting for another moment, his eyes settling on their knees. The way they weren't more than an inch apart, spots of rain not yet dried and darkened the material of their jeans. Still close enough to touch.

He rested his hand on top of House's once more and then ran the backs of his fingers softly up House's forearm before looking back up at him for another second. Yes, nothing had been repaired and the breaks were still visible. But the pieces were there, gathered together and close enough to touch. Wilson offered House an open and unguarded look, feeling a swell of love and want rise within him. He leaned in again and pressed another kiss to the corner of House's mouth, and then stood and slowly began making his way down the hall.

[dr_gregoryhouse]

House watched Wilson rise from the seat and as Wilson moved past him, House watched him with his eyes until Wilson was out of his line of vision. Sex was a bit sudden, he thought to himself, considering they'd only just walked through the door. His eyes fell on the discarded bottle of beer left standing on the coffee table, the green glass gathering thick drops of condensation. But House decided he'd rather sex than to have this weekend finish on a dismal, tense note.

He took up his cane and stood up, and slowly made his way down the hall. He went to the bathroom first to use the toilet, washed his hands and then moved across to his bedroom. He stopped and watched Wilson from the doorway. House was aware he'd never asked Wilson to have sex with him before. It struck him how almost comfortable he was about asking that of him, almost like it was a natural thing now. A completely natural and normal part of their relationship.

He ventured into the room after watching Wilson for a moment and set his cane down against the dresser, limping the rest of the way towards Wilson. When he reached him, he reached up and lay a hand on Wilson's chest and rubbed it idly, giving Wilson a thin-lipped smile. He'd become so accustomed and comfortable with Wilson's body that he almost didn't think about touching him intimately anymore. It just happened naturally. He ran his hand down his chest to his stomach and grasped a tuft of Wilson's shirt.

"You don't have to stay tonight if you don't want to," he offered in a low voice, tugging Wilson's shirt up from his jeans. He slipped his other hand up underneath it to Wilson's belly and caressed it.

[dr_j_wilson]

"What if I want to?" Wilson replied quietly, his hand settling on House's hip. He rested his other hand on House's shoulder and leaned foward into the gentle touch, pressing his face into House's neck.

Wilson inhaled deeply, the scent of the rain still fresh on House's skin and mingling with the familiar smells Wilson had come to know well. Soap, cologne, and some other unremarkable things - like the washing detergent House used on his clothes and the smell of the apartment - flooded his senses. They meshed into what was unmistakably and permanently branded into Wilson's mind as House.

He lifted his nose and mouth slightly and let his lips ghost over House's skin. "Or was that a nice way of saying you'd rather I didn't?" he teased softly, then pressed his open mouth against House's throat and began kissing him there slowly. The taste of rain and salt grazed the tip of his tongue before he pulled back. His hand smoothed over the material of House's t-shirt and cupped the side of his neck.

Wilson urged House closer until their chests were pressing against one another. His eyes flickered over House's face, from his eyes to his mouth and then back again. Then he leaned in further and kissed him slowly, his tongue tentatively sliding over House's as he shut his eyes and squeezed House's hip firmly.

[dr_gregoryhouse]

"Whatever you want it to be," House replied distractedly. He closed his eyes and arched his neck up to Wilson's mouth kissing him on his throat. "It's called offering you a choice. Just in case you couldn't spot it."

He opened his eyes again when Wilson pulled back, bunching the hem of Wilson's shirt in his hands. He let Wilson lead the kiss to his mouth at first, thinking how much slower paced this was compared to their times in Atlantic City. Back there, they had sex as though they didn't have a worry in the world: a little rough, a good deal of excitement, nervousness at trying penetrative sex again and the satisfaction that had brought afterwards. Now, it was slow, like they were trying to ignore the tension that lingered over them. That was how it seemed to House. He wished it would go away.

Breaking away from the kiss, he tugged Wilson's shirt up over his head and threw it aside, then leaned back in to kiss him, taking charge of the kiss this time. He slid one hand onto Wilson's bare chest and his other down around to Wilson's ass. Pulling Wilson close against him again, he thrust his tongue into Wilson's mouth and kissed him deeply. The kiss was quick to taper off, though, and when it ended House pressed his face against the side of Wilson's for a moment, just standing there and taking in having Wilson close to him.

He pulled back again and looked down at his fingers running down Wilson's chest. He wondered if the tension would still linger if Wilson did stay the night. Maybe it would all pass once they adjusted to being back in Princeton again. Or maybe it wouldn't pass at all.

House shook it from his mind, not wanting to think about it. He lifted his hand from Wilson's chest to grasp the back of his neck, and met Wilson's mouth in another deep kiss when he pulled him in close.

[dr_j_wilson]

"Thanks for the insight," he said, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly.

What had started as slow and hesitant was abruptly turning intense, and Wilson understood why. A small grunt escaped the back of his throat, almost muted by House's mouth, upon feeling House's hand on his ass and a tongue plunging into his mouth. His skin was cold from the damp shirt he'd been wearing and the contrast of heat from House's hand was wonderful, causing Wilson to tug House closer.

Any thoughts of trying to communicate assurance to House by easing into this were quickly falling away, Wilson content to keep with the pace and give House what he wanted. Even if its purpose was distraction. Wilson understood, and it was something still left to take. Before the weekend really did end.

Wilson's chest rose and fell quickly as he inhaled through his nose, his face pressed against House's. There was no longer any manner of awkward uncertainty for Wilson when it came to House's body. The feel of him, the heat of him.

He could see the thoughts dancing behind House's eyes when he pulled back, and Wilson tucked his fingers underneath House's pantline, fishing his shirt up and free of his jeans. He brushed his fingers over House's bare skin as they kissed, both of his hands moving under the hem of his shirt and clasping his hips. His body was humming now, his pulse thrashing violently in his ears, and he teased House's tongue with his own before breaking away for a swallow of air.

Wilson took this opportunity to lift House's shirt, his hands stroking up House's chest and over his nipples momentarily before tugging it over his head and throwing it to the floor with his own. He turned and sat down on the edge of the mattress, pulling House toward him so that he was standing between Wilson's legs. He looked up at House for a second, his eyes smouldering and dark with arousal, and then he began to plant kisses along House's stomach. He dragged his mouth down, wet and hot, over House's navel and then up again, running the tip of his nose against his skin.

One of his hands released House's hip and clasped his wrist, urging House to come closer and laying back on the bed as he did so.