(no subject)
Wilson smiles and stands. You get ready to grab at him in case he tries to flee, but instead he climbs onto the bed, sitting back on his haunches and looking down at you. His hand shakes as he reaches out, brushing fingertips against your stubbled cheek. "How long have we known each other?" he asks.
"Fifteen years?" You can't really remember and his fingers are against your lips, feeling your breath with each exhale.
"Seventeen," he corrects. Fingers brushing neck, palm cupping cheek, thumb at the corner of your mouth. He leans in for a kiss.
You close your eyes and kiss him back, trying to dominate the kiss from your position, straining up against his mouth.
Lips still locked, Wilson moves to straddle you and you make an approving noise against his mouth. When he pulls away to get his breath back, you tilt his chin up and go after his neck, not trying to be gentle. You move down the plane of his throat until cloth bars your way.
You didn't think it was possible, but his breath quickens as you start to undo the small row of buttons on his shirt. Going all Hulk and ripping the cloth from his shoulders would have been faster, but with each button you can feel yourself getting more aroused. As Wilson shivers and holds still, you can tell it is having a similar effect on him.
Last button and the shirt is hanging open off of his frame. You never had been good at keeping your hands to yourself, and now is no exception. Touching where your lips left off, you ghost your fingers and thumb down the exposed strip of skin, detouring to gently brush a nipple, then more firmly as he seems to enjoy it.
You poke his stomach lightly, the slight paunch telling of his age. He shifts nervously, as if self-conscious, but you ignore him. You move your fingers further south to brush through the sparse trail of hair leading into his jeans. Hands at his button, then the zip...
"House..."
His breathy voice is probably meant as a threat, but isn't threatening at all. You force your hands away from the extra V of exposed skin, ducking them underneath his shirt and dancing your fingers along his spine, making him shiver.
"Please..."
You dip your finger under the back of his pants, following the groove of his ass.
"...stop."
Do you listen to Wilson?
Yes
No
(back)