Rain on my parade
Who: House, Wilson
Where: Wilson's car > House's apartment
What: Driving home from Atlantic City
When: End of the weekend vacation
Complete
( Read more... )
Where: Wilson's car > House's apartment
What: Driving home from Atlantic City
When: End of the weekend vacation
Complete
( Read more... )
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.
Reply
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.
Reply
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.
Reply
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.
Reply
"Mmm," he quietly murmured, letting his eyes close as he raked Wilson's hair back. He opened his eyes when Wilson grasped his wrist and he allowed himself to be urged forward. Bracing a hand on the mattress, he leaned over Wilson and dropped a kiss to his stomach before shifting himself onto the bed.
His leg always made maneuvering onto the bed during foreplay difficult; he grunted with effort to climb on top of Wilson. Settled on him, House ran one hand up Wilson's chest while he dropped his mouth to Wilson's neck and kissed it slowly. He pressed his face in against it and breathed in deeply, his chest tightening with love for Wilson.
He moved his mouth back to Wilson's again and kissed him hungrily, his hand snaking up to grip the back of Wilson's neck again. He slid his tongue in deep, nibbled at Wilson's mouth, sucked softly on his tongue, then pulled back when he needed a breath of air.
He met Wilson's eyes for a moment, staring into them, before dropping his mouth back to Wilson's neck once again. He breathed a little quicker and heavier as he kissed it, from the juncture of Wilson's jaw down to the base of his throat. He released his hold on the back of Wilson's neck and slid his hand down his body, right down to Wilson's crotch. He groped his dick through his jeans and rubbed it, pulling back from Wilson's throat to look down at him again.
Reply
It was almost as if they really were back in Atlantic City. When Wilson's eyes fluttered closed and he just focused on the feeling of House's lips pressed against his own, mouth moving hungrily and tongue eager to taste him, it could've been the hotel room. It could've been Mars, too. He moaned softly when House's mouth met his throat, tilting his head back to expose his neck that much more, and Wilson became aware of his cock filling steadily.
He was clasping House's shoulders, running his fingernails down House's back and other times grabbing at his arm desperately. There simply wasn't enough of him to touch, and Wilson's other hand clasped House's neck for a moment before pushing into his hair. When House let go of his neck Wilson glanced down, just as eager to see House as he was to feel him, and then House's hand was on him. Rubbing him, the friction of his jeans adding to how--
"God," he gasped, gripping House's shoulder harder. He met House's eyes and felt a rush of desire and love surge inside of him again, his hand slipping from the back of House's neck to slide across his cheek.
His hips bucked instinctively, and he caught his lower lip between his teeth, grasping the back of House's head and tilting his own head foward to crush their mouths together. Wilson's other hand released House's shoulder and slid down to the small of his back, flattening their bodies and causing Wilson to let out a choked noise into House's mouth when their erections pressed together.
Reply
The jolt of pain jerked House out of the moment and he gave a look equal parts frustrated and determined as he awkwardly got himself fully on top of Wilson. Frustrated because he hated the way his leg hampered him, and determined because he wasn't going to let his leg pain stop him. Not if he could help it.
To prove he wasn't going to let it get to him, he crushed his mouth down onto Wilson's again, sucking on his tongue. He rolled his hips forward again - and felt another sharp twinge of pain, sharp enough that it made him falter in his kiss to Wilson's mouth. He attempted to ignore it, defiantly pushing his tongue into Wilson's mouth while trying to rub himself against Wilson.
But that fucking knot of burning pain was still there and after a futile few moments of pretending it wasn't there, he drew back from Wilson's mouth, breathing heavily. Maybe it would go away in a moment. Propping himself up onto one elbow, his other hand bracing against the mattress as he shifted his weight on Wilson, he refused to meet Wilson's eyes, feeling frustrated with himself and embarrassed that this was getting the better of him.
Reply
Not a moment later and House was drawing back. Wilson tilted his head and furrowed his brow, his hand squeezing one of House's shoulders. Wilson hadn't considered that House's leg might be worse than usual after the car trip - he hadn't considered much of anything once they'd started kissing. He was so focused on trying to give House his distraction that he'd overlooked the position they were in. Wilson squeezed House's shoulder again, sliding his hand to the crook of his neck and rubbing small circles into House's back with his fingers, but House wouldn't look at him.
"Hey," whispered Wilson, propping himself up on his elbows. Forcing anything wouldn't be good and drawing attention to it by speaking might be even worse. Wilson sighed quietly in frustration and leaned his head foward so that his nose and forehead were resting against the side of House's face. He pressed a light kiss against House's jaw and pulled back a bit so he could see him.
Wilson had half a mind to urge House onto his back and pretend nothing had happened, finish undressing House and try to distract him further. But not if he was really hurting. "Okay?" he asked, continuing to rub House's shoulder and drawing his other hand down House's chest soothingly to show he wasn't in any hurry. House was his concern, especially this time. Wilson tilted foward again and kissed House's shoulder, then rested his cheek there and kept looking at House's face.
Reply
After another moment, House closed his eyes and sought Wilson's mouth to kiss him again, hoping to return to what they were doing. The kiss was halfhearted, though, because House was now more focused on his leg than on this. He broke the kiss, then hesitantly kissed Wilson again.
"Fuck," he cursed quietly, drawing back from Wilson with a frustrated shake of his head. He started to push himself off Wilson, feeling angry and humiliated with himself. His leg had caused him pain before during sex with Wilson, but never enough that he couldn't ignore it. Maybe his leg was just bad because of the car trip. Or maybe because he was aware of this tension between Wilson and himself.
He sagged to Wilson's side, propped up on one elbow and still breathing quickly. His heart was still beating fast, though all the heat that had been pooling in his groin was rapidly dissipating. This wasn't supposed to happen - how were he and Wilson going to be assured that everything was okay now they were back home, if they couldn't do this?
He focused his eyes down on Wilson's chest, feeling like an idiot. He chanced a guarded glance up to Wilson's face to meet his eyes, then looked away again.
Reply
The intensity he'd been experiencing only minutes ago was quickly fading, but Wilson didn't care so much about that. The reason they were doing this, that Wilson was doing it anyway, was to confirm something for House and to keep him from slipping back into his downward spiral. Wilson was very well-rehearsed on how quickly that would happen if House's leg added to things. The guarded look in his eyes told Wilson that was exactly what was happening. Didn't tell him how to go about putting a stopper in the dam, though.
Wilson inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, keeping his eyes on House's face. How could he show House, especially now, that they were still them? Perhaps Wilson being there by his side would say something, but he doubted that. There was nothing Wilson could do about the pain. His hand hesitantly returned to House's arm and Wilson shifted so that he was on his side, facing House. He drew his hand gently up and down, feeling the need for contact of some kind that wasn't necessarily sexual so much as...just contact. It was alright with him that this wouldn't always work; Wilson wasn't drowning in dissapointment because this hadn't been about him. Sometimes, it just doesn't work. After being married three times, Wilson had an appreciation for that. Didn't give him any way to communicate it, or make House feel less frustrated. Pain eliminated reason. It was frustration by definition.
"Where are your pills?" he asked quietly, staying close enough so that he could touch House but not close enough to be forcing himself into House's space. Wilson figured his leg had to be pretty severe, from the look on House's face. "Living room?"
Reply
"Don't do that," House snapped, shrugging Wilson's hand away from him. He pushed away from Wilson and rolled over onto his back, and reached a hand down to his thigh. He groped it and then dropped his hand away - touching it like that in front of Wilson would only draw more attention to it. The last thing he wanted was Wilson to make even more of a fuss than he already was. Which wasn't really a fuss at all, but House didn't see it like that at this moment.
He gave a relenting sigh; he did need his pills, however. And it would be easier for Wilson to get them for him. He nodded. "Coat pocket," he said in a gruff, resentful voice.
He raised his arm and dropped his fist to his forehead as he peered up at the ceiling. Maybe once he'd had his pill, they could... He covered his face with his hand and gave it an irritated rub.
Reply
Wasn't House's fault. And Wilson knew he hated being seen when he was in such a position. He'd been there since the beginning to experience the displaced anger, after all. With another pitiful glance at House's covered face, Wilson careful turned over and shifted off the bed while jostling the mattress as little as possible. He swiftly made his way from the room and down the hall, the wood flooring cold underneath his feet.
As he crossed the living room toward the coat stand, he let out the sigh he'd restrained for House and pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand. Didn't take too long for him to fish out the amber pill bottle from House's jacket with the other hand. He unscrewed the cap with aggravation and shook one into his palm, then recapped the bottle and moved into the kitchen. Wilson re-entered the bedroom with half a glass of water and the bottle, which he set down on the side table next to House's side of the bed. He held out the glass and outstretched the pill in an open palm, and after House had taken both he walked back around to the other side of the bed and crawled onto it again.
Not wanting to seem as frustrated as he was, but not wanting to agitate House any further either, Wilson laid down on his back next to House and propped his head on his hands. He turned his face slightly so he could see House, his expression calm again. It's okay, you know or Need anything weren't acceptable, obviously. Neither was his hand reaching out to rest over House's. Hell, maybe even looking at him wasn't smart. So after a moment of studying his profile, Wilson glanced up at the ceiling. He wasn't budging unless House asked, that much was clear. He'd stay here as long as it took and crossed one leg on top of the other as if to show just how comfortable he was simply laying next to House, breathing evenly.
The thought of saying something silly like, 'Did you hear about the Yankees game?' crossed his mind, but he doubted House would appreciate that, either.
Reply
He dropped his hand away again when Wilson returned to the room, and he didn't meet his eyes as he took the pill or the glass. He swallowed the pill with a sip of water before downing half the glass down, then stretched up to set it on the bedside table. He was very conscious of Wilson lying next to him, as well as itching to rub his leg.
Well, this was great. Things had returned to the way they were before House asked Wilson to come to bed with him: tense and uncertain. He lowered himself down onto his back again and sighed, wondering if maybe he should just tell Wilson to go home. This clearly wasn't going to work tonight, not so far, at least. Thing was, he didn't want Wilson to leave; he still wanted to hold onto the way things were between them in Atlantic City.
Grunting in frustration, House shifted onto his side so his back was facing Wilson, and he scowled at the wall. A moment later, he lifted his head and craned his neck to peer over his shoulder at Wilson, then stretched his arm out. He made a blind grab at Wilson until his hand latched onto Wilson's arm, and he slid his hand down until he was gripping Wilson's wrist and he tugged him firmly to roll towards him. He kept tugging with a scowl on his face until Wilson was spooned up behind him. Then he let his head drop back to the pillow with Wilson's arm draped over him.
"You don't have to stay," he said moodily. He wouldn't have blamed Wilson if he wanted to leave. He entwined his fingers with Wilson's, however, as a silent code for I don't want you to go. Not yet.
Reply
Wilson pulled his face back, unsure as to whether or not House wanted to be given so much attention right now. He simply wanted to be clear on that, and he had. He rested his face back on the pillow, the tip of his nose almost touching the first vertebra of House's spine. He tightened his arm around House slightly to show his resolve. If House weren't holding his hand Wilson knew he would've been running his fingertips over House's chest right about now. He had the urge to squeeze House's hand again or drape his leg over House's - which he couldn't do for obvious reasons - just to physically communicate how close he wanted to be. Or maybe it was that confirming instinct again. At the same time, though, some of the tension was leaving Wilson's muscles. They'd tightened up again when House's leg had started in, of course, but there was something about laying with House that untangled whatever the knots were within him.
It wasn't sex and Wilson wasn't sure it was easing House at all, but he inhaled deeply and let his eyes close for a moment anyway. This was what Wilson wanted. When he talked about waking up next to House, told House they could have this, it was the sort of moment he was experiencing that signified all of it. Even though House's leg was throbbing, even though life would be knocking at their door terribly soon...Wilson's chest was pressing against House's back and he was exhaling against House's neck and they were still the same people they were in that hotel room. House was still the person Wilson loved. They could have this, despite it all, if they wanted to. They had to want to, though.
Wilson could feel the ebb and flow of House's breathing underneath his arm and opened his eyes to watch the movement of House's body, trying to discern his pain level and anything else he could by the position House was holding. "I want to stay," Wilson added quietly as an afterthought.
Reply
"Suit yourself," House snapped, when Wilson said he wanted to stay. Contrary to how surly he sounded, however, he gave Wilson's hand a squeeze. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling himself suddenly starting to relax. He was still scowling at the wall, but began to idly run his thumb in up-and-down strokes over the back of Wilson's hand.
After a small while of just lying there in silence with Wilson up against him, House felt less frustrated. Still in pain, though that was beginning to ease slightly. The scowl on his face had softened, too. He tugged Wilson's arm over him more securely before lifting their entwined hands up and brushing his chin across the back of Wilson's knuckles.
"I had a good time this weekend," he said, still rubbing his chin thoughtfully against Wilson's hand. He paused, then opened his mouth to say more and couldn't think of anything to say. He closed his mouth again and tucked Wilson's hand in against his chest, cradling it close to him.
Reply
With his eyes drifting closed, Wilson continued to focus on the feeling of House's breathing. Against his chest, under his arm. Wilson wasn't tired even if he should be courtesy of the drive back to Princeton, but he felt the air loosen as the minutes ticked by. He felt House's breathing even out a bit, too. Thinking he'd gone to sleep, Wilson made sure to stay close against House, telling himself it might be better that House just rest for a while and shut his mind off. It was a bit dissapointing at first, wondering if the tension had only lessened because House wasn't there to exude any more of it.
So when House tugged Wilson's arm over him a bit more and Wilson felt the rough scratching of House's chin against his knuckles, his eyes opened wide with surprise. He lifted his head half an inch so he could just see House's profile when House spoke. Wilson quirked an eyebrow, a small smile curling at the edges of his mouth, and then rested against the pillow again. He knew House didn't want to be touched; the fact that it had earned him nothing but gruff voices of irritation told Wilson that House perceived it as Wilson compensating for his pain. He therefore quelled the desire to rest his forehead against House's shoulder and instead just let House hold his hand as close as he wanted, deciding that he'd just allow House to govern his arm for the time being.
"Wasn't half bad, I guess," Wilson replied with mock non-chalance. He scoffed and let his smile return. "Me too," he agreed, his voice quiet and more sincere that time. Wilson swiped his thumb over House's and took a deep breath. A part of him really did want to say something more than that. Something like 'We'll have a good time this weekend too, regardless of lacking room service'. But he kept himself from saying it, not wanting the tension to return. He hoped it was understood, hoped that maybe just laying here like this was telling House something. Even if it was, though, House probably wouldn't let himself listen. He'd set himself in a groove a long time ago, Wilson knew. All he could do was keep proving House's lack of faith wrong. Keep laying here. So Wilson did, keeping his eyes open this time - even if it was just to stare at the back of House's neck and the paintings House had hanging on his bedroom wall.
Reply
Leave a comment