Distractions
Title: Distractions.
Fandom: House.
Characters: House/Wilson.
Rating: PG for sexual innuendos.
Word Count: 353.
Spoilers: Some slight spoilers for the season two finale "Distractions", though not really, because this is my take on it.
Summary: He didn’t ask for caring gestures; he just wanted some kind of pleasure to take the focus off his leg.
Author's Note/Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nadda. Zip, zero. Goose egg.
There was a knock on the door and House let out an irritated breath. He brought the glass to his lips, tipped it back and finished off the drink he had made. With his right hand gripping his cane, he slowly pulled himself off the couch and placed the glass onto the coffee table. Carefully, he made his way towards the door, wincing slightly; his leg had been bothering him more than usual that night.
He pulled the door open and looked up.
“How’s the leg? Is it bothering-“
“I just need a distraction,” House said. “You can do that without talking, right?” He stepped off to the side and pulled the door open further.
Wilson gave a small nod and walked into the apartment, avoiding House’s heavy gaze. He pulled his jacket off and set it over the back of the couch, then turned to face House. Brown eyes locked with blue, and Wilson suddenly felt completely out of place. The apartment seemed to get smaller as his friend limped towards him, cane forgotten against the couch.
“Are you s-“
“I said no talking,” he said, then pressed his lips to Wilson’s. Both pairs of eyes closed as House pulled his friend nearer, pushing their bodies as close as he could stand it. Wilson slipped a hand up to the back of House’s neck, playing with the hair there, as House’s leg screamed in pain. The hand was pulled away, Wilson’s wrist grasped tightly in House’s hand. He didn’t ask for caring gestures; he just wanted some kind of pleasure to take the focus off his leg.
After a moment, House pulled away and reached for his cane. Wilson stood, dumbfounded, as his heart hammered against his chest. Had he changed his mind?
A finger disrupted Wilson’s line of vision as House motioned for him to follow. He did so without question, watching as House babied his right leg more than normal. A frown set on Wilson’s face and he swore, then and there, that he would do whatever he could to get House’s mind off any kind of pain he felt.
Fandom: House.
Characters: House/Wilson.
Rating: PG for sexual innuendos.
Word Count: 353.
Spoilers: Some slight spoilers for the season two finale "Distractions", though not really, because this is my take on it.
Summary: He didn’t ask for caring gestures; he just wanted some kind of pleasure to take the focus off his leg.
Author's Note/Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nadda. Zip, zero. Goose egg.
There was a knock on the door and House let out an irritated breath. He brought the glass to his lips, tipped it back and finished off the drink he had made. With his right hand gripping his cane, he slowly pulled himself off the couch and placed the glass onto the coffee table. Carefully, he made his way towards the door, wincing slightly; his leg had been bothering him more than usual that night.
He pulled the door open and looked up.
“How’s the leg? Is it bothering-“
“I just need a distraction,” House said. “You can do that without talking, right?” He stepped off to the side and pulled the door open further.
Wilson gave a small nod and walked into the apartment, avoiding House’s heavy gaze. He pulled his jacket off and set it over the back of the couch, then turned to face House. Brown eyes locked with blue, and Wilson suddenly felt completely out of place. The apartment seemed to get smaller as his friend limped towards him, cane forgotten against the couch.
“Are you s-“
“I said no talking,” he said, then pressed his lips to Wilson’s. Both pairs of eyes closed as House pulled his friend nearer, pushing their bodies as close as he could stand it. Wilson slipped a hand up to the back of House’s neck, playing with the hair there, as House’s leg screamed in pain. The hand was pulled away, Wilson’s wrist grasped tightly in House’s hand. He didn’t ask for caring gestures; he just wanted some kind of pleasure to take the focus off his leg.
After a moment, House pulled away and reached for his cane. Wilson stood, dumbfounded, as his heart hammered against his chest. Had he changed his mind?
A finger disrupted Wilson’s line of vision as House motioned for him to follow. He did so without question, watching as House babied his right leg more than normal. A frown set on Wilson’s face and he swore, then and there, that he would do whatever he could to get House’s mind off any kind of pain he felt.