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... )
Nothing happened, though, he reminded himself. Nothing happened between himself and Cade, so what was there to be so uptight about? The part where he'd lied to Wilson, that was what. The part where lying made it look like something had happened. The part where House had entertained something happening between Cade and himself, just out of curiosity. Oh god, oh shit.
He distractedly darted his eyes towards Wilson when Wilson shifted up onto his elbows to look down at him. He didn't want to meet Wilson's eyes: he looked at his chin, first, then his mouth, his left cheek. Finally he met Wilson's eyes and instantly almost looked away again out of sheer guilt.
"Of course," he said, resuming a little more composure now that the worst of his surprise at being caught off guard had passed. He flashed Wilson a smile that he hoped was convincingly reassuring as he ran his hand up Wilson's back. "Just... thinking, you know. About all the stuff that's happened recently. You know how it's been."
He lowered his eyes to Wilson's lips so he didn't have to maintain eye contact, and craned his neck up to kiss Wilson.
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He listened without saying anything but didn't return House's smile, although House saying he was just dwelling on everything took away the sharp anxiety Wilson felt. To some extent. As far as he was concerned, though, he hadn't said anything about the stuff that had happened lately. Nothing that would warrant House freezing up like that.
Wilson blinked and tried to think of what to say, but found himself being kissed. It took him a second to respond but he soon felt compelled to kiss back if for no other reason than how concerned he was. Maybe as an attempt to assure House that whatever he was troubled by concerning the rough times they'd experienced recently, Wilson was there and it would be okay.
Especially after what they'd just shared. Whatever stuff had happened, Wilson was sure it would be okay. So he deepened the kiss, his lips firm and his tongue insistently stroking against House's own. It caught him off guard and confused him, but whatever it was about Cuddy that caused House's tension didn't matter as much as making that tension go away.
Once the kiss slowed to a stop, Wilson hesitantly opened his eyes, pulling back just enough to look at House's face. With his weight on one arm, he brought his other hand up to the side of House's head, his thumb sweeping over House's cheek.
He tried a reassuring smile, forcing the confused expression away. "Yeah, I know. We'll get through it," he said quietly, but firmly. Wilson looked at House seriously then, as if trying to communicate that he loved him and not to doubt that they'd be okay. "Really we will. Don't worry."
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He felt sudden relief when Wilson began to return the kiss more passionately. House gladly deepened the kiss still, like he was trying to communicate how much Wilson really did mean to him. Or maybe because he was feeling guilty and wanting to crush the guilt again. He didn't want the kiss to end, or at least wanted Wilson's face to be completely wiped clear of that bemused expression - which it wasn't, House noticed, when the kiss finally did end.
He reached up with his hand much the same as the way Wilson had reached for his, and cupped Wilson's cheek with his palm. He mimicked the way Wilson ran his thumb over his cheek by doing the same to Wilson and then threaded his fingers through Wilson's hair. He felt caught between wanting to escape that questioning look Wilson was giving him, and wanting to completely snuff any guilt and all of Wilson's doubt with passion again.
Letting his hand slide free from Wilson's hair, he dropped his hand to Wilson's shoulder and watched his fingers run along the length of it. God, he'd lied to Wilson for the second time tonight, had Wilson thinking he was just concerned about everything that happened between them and Cuddy. He ran his fingers back up the length of Wilson's shoulder and then moved his hand down to touch and affectionately rub Wilson's upper arm.
"Of course we will," he replied, hoping he sounded as firm and convincing as Wilson's tone. "Come this far, right? Us."
He ran his hand back up Wilson's arm before reaching for the back of his head to pull him back down for another kiss. "Wouldn't want it any other way," he murmured just as he met Wilson's mouth.
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Everything was fine.
House's day had been difficult, that was all. Nothing wrong with that. And he was right, Wilson reminded himself. House was right. They'd come this far. In fact, tonight had been fantastic and comfortable and good. Really, really good. It had been very clear just how much they'd both missed each other and loved one another.
The entire night had been comfortable, too. Considering how terrified they both were after their holiday weekend came to an end, that had to count for something. Whatever House was going through wasn't so horrible that they couldn't work through it. They'd been great together this evening from start to finish. No one was without problems but tonight had proven to Wilson that they were okay - their problems weren't a death sentence.
Wilson refused to acknowledge the lingering curiousity (or maybe it was confusion, or further concern) rattling around his skull. Hearing House's soft words of confirmation encouraged Wilson against the odd instinctive feelings even more. He scooted up House's body a bit, resting his free hand in the crook of House's shoulder and focusing solely on the warm, welcoming mouth moving against his own. There was something about being definitively told those things that made Wilson feel passion toward House all over again. To be reassured and comforted by House's words and touch all at once filled him with affection for House. Wilson knew he worried too much by nature, so he could write it off as just that. Worrying too much.
So, in an attempt to shut that out, he brought his hand up to cup the side of House's neck and let his teeth graze over House's lips. The kiss was passionate and deliberate, as if Wilson was desperate to communicate just how much he believed what House had said. Both for the House's sake as well as his own.
It's fine, he kept telling himself. Wilson smoothed his hand back down the curve of House's neck and kept kissing him with growing intensity, gripping and squeezing his shoulder every few seconds. Yes. They were fine.
And if this wasn't an effective way of Wilson expressing he believed it, as well as telling House yet again that he loved him, then he didn't know what was.
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