Author: lucretiafly
Pairing: House/Wilson.
Rating: PG-13 at the most for references to sex.
Summary: Wilson wondered how it had come to this.
Word count: 200 exactly.
Disclaimer: Do not own House, just like to play with him. All rights go to David Shore/Bad Hat Harry productions.
Wilson wondered how it had come to this.
They still spoke, still passed banter, shared lunch, watched TV together - but it lacked energy, passion. It was if they were repeating well-rehearsed lines; too long in this routine to change, although they no longer cared. The only time they came close to anything with real fire behind was when House - stressed from a hard case, driven to distraction with pain, or just damn lonely - would knock on Wilson's bedroom door. Wilson would hesitate and sigh, but let House in anyway; needing to feel that maybe, they were still alive.
They never spoke, but Wilson craved the closeness - trying to take from physical contact what he couldn't get emotionally. The sex was good - after so long they knew what would get them off effectively - but it was selfish. They would take what they need and then House would leave, without a word or a glance to the man in the bed.
Wilson sighed and climbed under his duvet. It was late and he should sleep, but he willed himself to stay awake - waiting as he did every night, hoping House would knock on his door.