(no subject)
A Ride
House\Wilson
Ficlet, pre-slash, romance, friendship
Dis. I don't own House MD.
No spoilers.
“Get up, Wilson.” House said and jerked his head towards his bike direction.
Wilson clumsily climbed over the motorcycle. House was starting the engine now, while Wilson was adjusting his position on the passenger's seat.
“Hold tight, Jimmy.” House placed Wilson's hands around his leather clad waist. He felt Wilson freeze a little.
“Everything's fine?”
“Yes.”
They were heading to Wilson's for he'd absentmindedly left an essential file at home.
Everything was not fine as Wilson, sitting behind House and holding him firmly by the waist, began to pant, sweat and blush. And the most embarrassing thing was the tent in his pants standing more and more upright threatening any minute to push hard at the driver's back in front of him.
Wilson's breathing was uneven, he silently prayed for this ride to end.
House wouldn't be House if he hadn't noticed what was going on with his Jimmy.
He stopped the bike, leaned on one leg, still sitting on the driver's seat and placed his hands just over Wilson's.
“Let go, House.” Wilson whined a little.
House grinned widely.
“Come on, you like it. I can feel it.” he mocked Wilson.
“I... I don't. Let go!”
Wilson got off the bike and looked awkward and highly embarrassed. He had a flush on his boyish face and a thin layer of sweat on his forehead under a brown bang of hair.
House leaned his eyes down to face the ever-visible tent in his best friend's pants.
“Don't be shy, Wilson.” he smirked and brushed his hand gently against Wilson's cheek. Wilson lifted his eyes quickly up to House and for a moment he saw a rare thing: House's blue eyes radiated tenderness and kindness.
Wilson eased a little and smiled in the corners of his mouth.
“Let's go.” House said finally and went to the front door...
House\Wilson
Ficlet, pre-slash, romance, friendship
Dis. I don't own House MD.
No spoilers.
“Get up, Wilson.” House said and jerked his head towards his bike direction.
Wilson clumsily climbed over the motorcycle. House was starting the engine now, while Wilson was adjusting his position on the passenger's seat.
“Hold tight, Jimmy.” House placed Wilson's hands around his leather clad waist. He felt Wilson freeze a little.
“Everything's fine?”
“Yes.”
They were heading to Wilson's for he'd absentmindedly left an essential file at home.
Everything was not fine as Wilson, sitting behind House and holding him firmly by the waist, began to pant, sweat and blush. And the most embarrassing thing was the tent in his pants standing more and more upright threatening any minute to push hard at the driver's back in front of him.
Wilson's breathing was uneven, he silently prayed for this ride to end.
House wouldn't be House if he hadn't noticed what was going on with his Jimmy.
He stopped the bike, leaned on one leg, still sitting on the driver's seat and placed his hands just over Wilson's.
“Let go, House.” Wilson whined a little.
House grinned widely.
“Come on, you like it. I can feel it.” he mocked Wilson.
“I... I don't. Let go!”
Wilson got off the bike and looked awkward and highly embarrassed. He had a flush on his boyish face and a thin layer of sweat on his forehead under a brown bang of hair.
House leaned his eyes down to face the ever-visible tent in his best friend's pants.
“Don't be shy, Wilson.” he smirked and brushed his hand gently against Wilson's cheek. Wilson lifted his eyes quickly up to House and for a moment he saw a rare thing: House's blue eyes radiated tenderness and kindness.
Wilson eased a little and smiled in the corners of his mouth.
“Let's go.” House said finally and went to the front door...