Dining In
Who: Wilson, House (closed)
Where: Wilson's apartment
What: Wilson cooks dinner and House comes over.
When: Monday 22nd May, 7pm
( Read more... )
Where: Wilson's apartment
What: Wilson cooks dinner and House comes over.
When: Monday 22nd May, 7pm
( Read more... )
He pushed his chair back out out of habit before walking behind House's chair. Wilson stopped and gripped both of House's shoulders, dipping over his shoulder.
"Never liked that tablecloth, anyway," Wilson said in a hushed tone, exhaling against the shell of House's ear and giving his shoulders a tight squeeze before straightening.
He dissapeared into the kitchen for just a moment and then re-emerged with a handful of paper towels, which he tossed over the puddle of wine that had now seeped into the material. Wilson didn't bother the pat it down, ignoring it once it was covered in the white heap he'd torn off the roll. He could afford another tablecloth. And he wanted the air to stay breathable, too. There was simply an urge within him, after the day he'd had and the thoughts he'd thought, to make things okay. Wilson couldn't pinpoint it; the return home had gone anything but smooth and he didn't care for that flavor being left in his mouth. That was one of the more exhausting aspects to all of this with House - the constant need to confirm, affirm, and reaffirm things. Wilson didn't do it because he expected things to go wrong - he told himself he didn't - but instead because he was terrified of that possibility.
With his arms crossed over his chest, he looked down at House with an eyebrow raised as he stood next to where House was seated.
"No use crying over spilled milk," Wilson said conversationally. They'd both finished their dinner and he still had an inexplicable want to touch and be touched, to reach out and feel House. It was strange for Wilson, on some level, but could probably be explained by the amount of stress that had been crushing them lately. And the way House had greeted him tonight. Probably the foreign scent of bar that lingered on House, too.
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Instead, he opened his eyes again and peered down at the mess. "Well, that's reassuring," he replied dryly. Once Wilson had left for the kitchen, he resumed eating what was left of his meal. He chewed absently on the steak, watching Wilson when he returned with the paper towels and by the time Wilson was done doing a bad job of patting the mess up, House had finished his dinner.
He turned his head up to look at Wilson, raising an eyebrow back at him. "I'm not," House replied just as conversationally. "I can if you want me to, though." He looked away with his eyes and screwed one eye shut contemplatively. "On second thoughts..."
He darted his eyes back to Wilson. He ran his tongue across his top lip, then puffed his cheeks out thoughtfully. He let them deflate with a quiet popping sound from his pursed lips.
"You still hungry?"
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Wilson didn't answer House. He kept the small distance between their faces for a moment and stared at House hungrily. His eyes never left House's eyes - right up to the point where Wilson crushed their mouths together. The kiss was hard, his tongue stroking House's, sucking and twisting his head to try and press more firmly against House.
When Wilson did break the kiss with a loud sucking noise, his lips remained parted and his eyes back on House's face.
"I want you," said Wilson lowly against House's mouth, blunt as it was of him to say those words. No wry comments about hunger or their meal and no funny expressions. Just exactly what was on his mind, for once. It might've sounded needy, or even ridiculously lame, but he was breathing a bit heavier now and something was twisting in his chest. So he decided to let House know. Just in case he'd forgotten it for a second somewhere along the line.
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He felt even more guilt, followed by a sudden rush of desire, when Wilson murmured those words against his mouth. Maybe Wilson was just really eager, House reasoned to himself. Or maybe he was aware something was up and was trying to ignore it, just like House was. Whatever the reason, House was fully aware of the guilt that wouldn't stop nibbling at him, which just made his desire for Wilson increase because maybe he really could crush that guilt with love, affection, sex.
He licked his lips and tried to remain looking casual, smug. "Well, when you put it to me like that..." he replied just as lowly. He nudged Wilson back from him so he could stand up and the moment he was standing tall, he reached for Wilson's face, clutching it in his hands. He ran his thumb across Wilson's bottom lip, a strong surge of love gripping at his chest. Or maybe it was guilt. No, it was love, definitely love.
He traced his thumb down over Wilson's chin before leaning in and kissing him hard.
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Any thought or attempt at thought was sent flying into the back of Wilson's head as House overcame him with another hard kiss. Wilson made a keening noise in the back of his throat and gripped House's shoulders, then his head, and then dropped one hand down to his hip and clutched the back of his neck. His mouth moved just as hungrily as before, fierce and deep, and it was almost like Wilson wanted to get under House's skin. All he knew was, regardless of not being able to explain it, standing wasn't going to cut it much longer.
He broke the kiss and panted air in and out for a second, holding House's neck to keep him close.
"House, I..." he began a little breathlessly, blinking slowly and keeping his eyes level with House's. Wilson wasn't sure what he was going to say. Well, he had the urge to tell House he loved him, and maybe a few other things too, but he'd already said enough on that count. The less noise he made at this point, the better.
"Bedroom?" Wilson finished, raising his eyebrows and leaning back in to kiss the corner of House's mouth. Then his jaw, and then his chin before drawing back again to look at him.
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Releasing his hold on Wilson's shirt, he rubbed his hands down Wilson's chest once before gently shoving him back to get Wilson to lead the way to the bedroom. He stretched across for his cane and quickly followed after him, stretching his hand out to latch his fingers onto the waistband of Wilson's pants halfway down the hall.
He barely let Wilson take two steps into the bedroom before he yanked Wilson back against him by the pants, Wilson's back to House's chest, and he let the waistband go to slide his arm around Wilson's front. Rubbing Wilson's chest again through his shirt, House nuzzled his face in against the side of Wilson's neck and tossed his cane across to the bed so he could wrap his other arm around him. Clutching Wilson close to him, hands sliding over and around Wilson's chest and belly, down to quickly grope his dick through his pants, House kissed his neck and jaw possessively as they both shuffled further into the room.
He broke away from kissing Wilson's neck for a breath of air just as he grabbed a tuft of Wilson's shirt and began to yank it free from his trousers, then closed his mouth around Wilson's earlobe and sucked and nibbled at it. Having Wilson's back pressed up against his chest like this made House think of having Wilson beneath him on the bed, being inside him and god, he wanted that.
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House was everywhere and Wilson was burning. His cheeks and his neck, his skin underneath House's mouth. The fire trickled down his spine and made his legs feel heavy and stuck to the floor. The ache rising in his groin made him want to grab House's hands, direct them. God, he felt eager. His heart was raging in his chest, his pulse learning new speeds and making him feel like he was shuddering under House's touch. And maybe he was.
He leaned back into House and squeezed his eyes shut at the familiar feeling of all that heat up against him. Wilson's hand moved to House's hip and tried to pull him closer against him, craning his neck and breathing audibly.
"God, you...I can't..." Wilson's skin felt like it was on fire. This was what House could do to him. And how he delighted in it, the possessiveness being exerted and the way House surrounded him. Wilson wanted more. Felt almost frenzied. Only House could do that to him. He flattened the length of his body against House and let out a moan, wanting to feel House's weight on top of him.
He turned finally, unable to stand it, and pulled House into another kiss. Wilson tugged back at House's shirt, needing to touch his bare skin and feel more of that heat, and once it was untucked he broke the kiss and pulled the shirt up and over House's head. Wilson's hands slid down House's shoulders, fingernails scratching lightly down his chest, twisting one of his nipples gently and then down to his waist.
They'd managed to make it to the bed, somehow, but Wilson was more concerned with touching House. His fingers clawed and tugged at House's jeans until they were unfastened, then slid his hand past House's underwear to his dick and squeezed it firmly. He lowered his mouth to House's throat, kissing a nipping line down to his shoulder and exhaling hotly againt his skin. Anything and everything he could touch, taste, make House feel. Show House just how much he wanted him. Loved him.
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He lips came into contact with Wilson's cheek. He breathed heavily against it, tugging the buttons on his shirt undone, and panted in a low voice, "Oh yeah," when he felt Wilson's hand rub and stroke his dick. He kissed and sucked and licked at Wilson's cheek down to the corner of his mouth before pulling back to try and divest Wilson of his shirt.
His hands were trembling slightly from how aroused he was and it took a few frustrated yanks at Wilson's shirt, along with a muttered "Fuck, come on" before he managed to claw the shirt off Wilson's shoulders. He pushed it down roughly and leaned straight in to bite at the side of Wilson's neck. He struggled with getting the shirt right off Wilson's arms, tossing it aside once it was off, and then began to touch Wilson everywhere - his chest, his nipples, his stomach, his waist, all the while pressing biting kisses from his neck up over his jaw and back to his mouth.
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Wilson was just about to tell House to forget the damn buttons and rip off his shirt when he felt the material being pushed past his shoulders. He let out a loud and throaty groan at the abrupt bite, his free hand shooting up to tightly clutch the side of House's neck. Wilson let his eyes close for a moment, now painfully hard underneath the material of his slacks, and felt the heat and throbbing sensation from House's teeth pulsate through his entire body. Something about House doing that just got to him. Maybe...it was the idea of House expressing his claim on Wilson so bluntly. And House kept doing it, making Wilson gasp and sigh, every single breath Wilson took in and out easily heard. He expected that House could hear his heart rampaging in his chest, too. Wilson certainly could.
"House," Wilson moaned without knowing why just before House kissed him, making it so that his mouth was open and ready. The word was swallowed and his lips tingled as they moved with House's lips, Wilson tasting him hungrily in an attempt to stake his own claim on House's mouth. House was everything he was in this moment. Breathless and hard in his hand - Wilson jerking him a bit more firmly as they kissed - as well as eager and possessive. And Wilson had caused him to feel all of those things. Oh, how he loved House for that.
He broke the kiss for desperately needed air, his lips slick and swollen from how wet and frenzied the kiss had been, then let go of House to struggle with his own belt. Wilson toed his shoes off and grunted in frustration, ducking his head foward to press quick kisses against House's mouth as he unfastened his pants. He pushed them down past his waist with his underwear before stepping out of them and kicking them aside. Wilson couldn't stop kissing House, and now that his hands were free and his clothes forgotten, he grabbed House's head with both hands and took his mouth again, resting one knee on the mattress and kneeling toward the bed as he did so.
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He slid his hand into Wilson's hair and gripped it, pulling his head back so he could kiss at Wilson's jaw. He rubbed his stubble against Wilson's cheek, sucked on his bottom lip, nipped at his chin, all the while moving his hands over Wilson's chest and belly. The moment Wilson's pants were moving down his hips, House darted his hand down to grab at Wilson's cock, firmly rubbing the heel of his hand against it. He kept stroking and caressing him until Wilson grabbed his head and started to move onto the bed; he gripped Wilson's shoulders and ended the kiss to urge Wilson to lie back.
House wasn't very graceful in how he followed Wilson onto the bed. He was too frantic with arousal, too focused on wanting to feel Wilson beneath him, to be coordinated in how he crawled over to him and slumped down heavily on top of him. Smothering him, completely surrounding him, thrusting his dick against Wilson's hip the moment there was skin-on-skin contact. Kissing him sloppily, he managed to get himself fully on top of Wilson, hips cradled between Wilson's thighs, and let out a deep groan when he thrust his dick against Wilson's.
He gathered Wilson's hands in his, lacing their fingers together, and swung Wilson's arms up over his head and pinned his wrists to the pillow. He broke the kiss to pull back and look down at him, watching Wilson's face as he rolled his hips forward. The feeling of Wilson hard and aroused against him was just exquisite. "God... Wilson..." he panted.
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"Fuck," he said hotly, opening his mouth wider in a show of what looked like disbelief at how good this felt. Wilson hooked one leg loosely around House and thrust against him again, picking his head up and craning his neck in an attempt to meet House's mouth. He reached the underside of House's jaw and kissed that instead before dropping back with a groan.
It was unreal, just how much he wanted House to be inside him. If things could be like this forever they'd have no problems, Wilson decided. Nothing was trampling through his mind right now, nothing knocking things over or kicking bothersome thoughts his way. In that moment he had no fears or insecurities; Wilson didn't have the presence of mind to doubt House's love for him or their relationship. It simply wasn't possible to do so. Instead...all he could do was believe and acknowledge it. And return it.
Another choked noise, Wilson's head now tipped back and his neck exposed, his face flushed and sweat glistening on his brow. He kept his eyes open, watching House as he writhed underneath him, opening his legs a bit more and crushing their bodies together as much as he could from the position he was in.
"Please...God, yes," he managed. Wilson's expression was almost pained and he lifted his head again to lick a swift line up House's throat and press another kiss against his chin. "Love you," Wilson murmured against House's skin, tipping his head foward against House's shoulder and jutting his hips against House even harder.
The heat of their bodies pressed flush against one another, the comfortable weight and the friction caused by thrusting his dick against House's, all of it made Wilson want to feel what he felt back in that hotel. Be as connected with House as he could be.
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House mirrored the open-mouthed look of disbelief at how good this felt when he felt Wilson push himself up harder against him. He could feel his skin prickling with sweat, his pulse hammering, his skin flushed, burning. He closed his eyes when Wilson kissed his neck and chin and murmured that he loved him. He felt too caught up in the moment to be able to reply with anything coherent; he turned his face in towards Wilson's and pressed his lips against Wilson's temple, panting heavily. The way Wilson was surging up against him like that...
House let Wilson's hands go and struggled to push himself up off him. He had lube somewhere in his drawers. Condoms, too. At least, he hoped he did. He stretched across the bed, grunting as he snatched at the drawer handle. It took a couple of goes before he managed to snag it open and he fumbled around in the top drawer clumsily, caught between wanting to keep kissing and touching Wilson, and wanting, needing to find the damn lube.
Abandoning the top drawer, he yanked the next drawer down open and rummaged around in that and his fingers latched around a small bottle. He retrieved it; lubricant. He tossed it onto the bed as he rolled back towards Wilson and instantly resumed kissing him hungrily. So caught up in desire for Wilson, he didn't have room to feel nervous about penetration. He just wanted to see Wilson lose control, wanted to feel him, all of him, wanted to be as connected with Wilson as possible.
Pulling back from the kiss, he grabbed up the bottle of lube and made a mess of trying to squeeze out a large dollop onto his fingers. It got all over his hand and the bottle, causing it to slip out of his grasp. He reached his hand down to Wilson's dick and grasped it briefly as he settled half on top of Wilson, stroked him firmly before then reaching further down between Wilson's legs. He urged Wilson to bend one leg up to open himself more, and then wiped and smeared his fingers between Wilson's ass cheeks. Rubbed over his entrance, watched the way Wilson surged his hips and then craned his neck up to meet Wilson's mouth in another hungry kiss as he began to push his middle finger inside him.
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As House pushed in further Wilson grunted and began kissing him again, the sensation making his body take over once more. He nudged his face against House's and twisted his head to the side to kiss House more deeply, his hands roaming down House's sides and holding onto him every now and again.
"Yeah," he said in a raspy and breathless voice against House's mouth, his hips rocking a bit. "Just keep doing that..." Wilson tried to keep himself relaxed, knowing what to do and feeling a bit more comfortable than last time. The burn wasn't as relevant, and he knew what was coming.
When the tip of House's finger brushed against his prostate, Wilson's body jerked in reaction and he threw his head back, crying out and wrapping an arm around House's shoulders. He looked back down, breathing heavily, his chest pressed against House's. Wilson's hand snaked between their bodies and found House's dick, giving it a firm squeeze and rocking his body again to grind against House.
Half-hugging House to keep as close as possible, Wilson held House's gaze and placed kisses on House's lips and the side of his face. He wanted nothing more than what was to come, intent on showing House just what this felt like for him. The wave of what felt like liquid fire coursing through his body and making his spine curl, his muscles tense, the pleasure pooling in his gut.
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Opening his eyes again, he pushed his finger in deeper, slowly, and massaged his fingertip against the base of Wilson's prostate. He claimed Wilson's mouth in a hard, sloppy kiss, groaning quietly against his lips before pulling back to look down at what he was doing with his fingers. He could move his finger in and out with reasonable enough ease, so he carefully began working a second finger in. He stopped when he saw that he needed more lubricant; he motioned at the lube with a jerk of his head for Wilson to grab it up and took it when it was given to him. He drew his fingers out to apply more, tossed the bottle aside and resumed pushing two fingers inside Wilson.
Craning his neck up to kiss Wilson again, he murmured breathlessly between kisses, "You good?"
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"Mm," he hummed in response to the question, taking a moment to try and recall how to speak coherently. Then he lifted his head slightly and kissed House back a bit more firmly. "Yeah. Real good." It came out in a whisper because Wilson was so focused on concentrating; relaxing himself and stroking House with his hand every now and again as House stretched him. But he was okay, the pleasure was beginning to get steadier and he could feel his muscles accepting House more and more. The fullness he felt was good and when House pushed far enough, Christ, it was like electricity. Tiny lightning storms of concentrated pleasure that made his free hand clutch the back of House's neck in the hope of being able to hold on somehow.
"Fuck," Wilson hissed in a moment of somewhat uncontrollable and uncharacteristic verbal expression. The urge, the need to move with House was making his mind less involved in what he was doing. He lifted his head up again to kiss House, slower this time, and moved both his hands to grip House's waist. Wilson draped his leg over House gently, then lifted up a bit and let out a deep groan when their cocks were pressed together.
House's fingers were moving in and out of him freely again and Wilson wanted more so desperately it was maddening. Wanted House. Wanted to feel House pressed up against him, on top of him and inside him, moving with him and feeling with him. Wilson wanted that on every conscious and unconscious level he understood, physically and emotionally - any other way he hadn't figured out yet, too. He rocked his hips a bit and placed a series of breathless, uncoordinated kisses on House's lips and cheek.
Maybe his brain simply called upon things he'd spoken earlier, but "God, I want you..." and a murmured "Greg, please..." were the only words Wilson could string together, exhaling them against House's skin. He gestured clumsily toward the open drawer again while running his other hand up and down the length of House's back, keeping the side of his face against House's in an urge to drown in the unbelievable closeness this brought him.
It was in that moment, or series of moments, Wilson experienced the undeniable feeling of how right this all was. Just like he'd felt the last time, and every time. The thought that House could feel that or maybe the worry that House wasn't made him squeeze his eyes shut and kiss House again. There was so much wrong sometimes...but Wilson couldn't shake the amount of right he was experiencing as he kissed House with all the passion and feeling he could muster.
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Only when Wilson gestured at the drawers did House snap out of his haze enough to remember condoms. He withdrew his fingers from Wilson, meeting Wilson's mouth in a hungry, uncoordinated kiss, before shifting to stretch towards the drawer. He grunted in discomfort when he realised how much his arm that he'd been supporting his weight on, ached and it took some clumsy, albeit frantic, moving around to be able to reach the drawers.
He fumbled around for the box, his fingers touching books, paper, bits and pieces he'd stashed in his drawers. He made an impatient sound when he moved down to the next drawer to rummage around. Finally, he found the box; he tossed them on the bed and moved straight back to Wilson, resting his full weight on him as he kissed him. He broke away with a gasp and rolled off Wilson to let him turn over and to fit himself with a condom.
Once he'd ripped a packet open and rolled a condom down onto himself, he returned to Wilson and lay at his side for a moment, kissing and touching his shoulder and back. He ran his hand down to Wilson's ass and groped it, trailing his kisses up to meet Wilson's cheek and then his mouth. He drew back from the kiss to reach for the lube and took a moment to slick his cock up, and applied more lube between Wilson's asscheeks.
Wiping his hand on the sheets, he pushed himself up and climbed on top of Wilson, resting his weight on his good leg. He gripped his cock, shifted about between Wilson's legs and then angled himself at Wilson's anus. A quick flash of nerves went through him before he began slowly, carefully pushing inside Wilson.
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