A/N – this is a short chapter but it said everything I wanted to say. Very strong warning for mature sexual situations! The night of fun continues. I don't think any of you will ever look at the process of applying and removing a heating pad or a medication patch quite the same way again. Since the next big chunk of the story will cover House's return to rehab, I wanted to wrap up their overnight pass with a bang. Here we go!
In the afterglow, Wilson looked lovingly at House. Anticipating the need, Wilson had left a damp washcloth under the lamp next to House's bed, keeping it warm. Awash in a surge of endorphins, House felt like he was floating on his back in a cloud. For the first time in a long time, his right leg felt as much like warm jello as his other extremities and there was no trace of pain or itching or anything else. All he felt was peace, relaxation and (ick) love. That last one was really a stranger, albeit a welcome one. The feeling of "love" was new and different, a little bit fearful and a whole lot exciting at the same time. With all of his muscles feeling like pudding, House very much enjoyed Wilson's further ministrations with the warm washcloth.
Apparently Wilson wasn't finished with the afterplay yet.
With all of the WOED cream on his privates and the residual lidocaine cream (which was originally on his scar but was now smeared all over the place), plus the lava from Mount Gregory's eruption, there was quite a mess to clean up. With no intention of moving from his most comfortable position in bed, House was quite happy to let Wilson do whatever he wanted in the way of cleanup.
Gently and with finesse, Wilson traced the area of House's right thigh around the heating pad with his index finger, lightly and erotically. "My king, we need to turn this off and unplug it. You need to be cleaned."
"Mmmmmmhhhhhhh" was House's only reply. In restful repose, House was awake but his eyes were closed and the look on his face was one of peaceful bliss. He was high, yes, and Wilson took pleasure in the knowledge that he was the reason.
Wilson slowly traced the length of one of the heating pad's cords until he found the on/off switch. He nibbled on House's ear gently and flicked the power switch off. Again, with his index finger, he slowly and erotically traced the length of the other cord until he could reach no further. With his eyes locked onto House's face, Wilson breathed heavily into House's ear. "I'm unplugging it now," he murmured. Never taking his eyes off of House's face, he jerked the heating pad's power cord out of the wall.
Wilson's shirt was still wrapped around the heating pad loosely. Wilson walked his index and middle fingers lightly up and down, up and down, up and down the shirt that was wrapped around the heating pad. Taking care never to hurt House, he entwined his fingers in the loose knot and untied the shirt. Brushing House's stubble lightly with his nose, Wilson lightly picked up the shirt and tossed it to the floor.
Wilson began lightly tracing his pinky finger around the perimeter of the heating pad, again taking utmost care not to hurt House. By now House's eyes were wide open, having long ago surrendered completely to Wilson's ministrations. His mouth was fixed in that drop dead sexy lopsided grin, and every muscle in his body was completely relaxed and enjoying every minute of this. Nobody had ever shown this much care and concern for him before. This was more than sex. It was love.
Having traced his pinky completely around the perimeter of the heating pad, he gently nudged the heating pad off until it too fell to the floor.
"Time to be cleaned," Wilson whispered hoarsely against House's neck.
House closed his eyes as he felt the deliciously warm, relaxing sensation of being cleaned gently with a warm wet washcloth. Taking care not to wipe away any residual lidocaine cream that was still on House's scar, Wilson gently traced the warm wet washcloth over the uninjured part of House's right thigh. Lifting three corners of the washcloth, he slowly allowed the fourth corner to drag up over House's pubic bone and over to his left thigh.
Using the entire surface of the washcloth, Wilson swirled it around and around, beginning with small circles, gently tracing the area around the fentanyl patch. He slowly enlarging the circles, until all of the mess on House's left thigh had been sufficiently cleaned up.
Taking a teasingly short break, Wilson stood up, staring straight into House's beautiful azure eyes, and said "Time for a break, my king. Stay right there."
"Happily," replied House with his trademark smirk.
Wilson returned from the bathroom seconds later with a clean warm wet washcloth and a large bath towel that had obviously sat on a warm surface. Wilson made a show of slowly bending over to pick up the heating pad, giving House every bit as much of a show as he could. Yes, House was hot, but so was Wilson. Few people ever got to see the well defined muscles and firm, taut skin under those dress suits Wilson wore every day. House was getting the show of all shows and enjoying every minute of it.
Wilson slowly moved over to the night stand and plugged the heating pad in again. Laying the heating pad down on the night stand, he folded the bath towel up and placed it on the heating pad. He turned the heating pad on and cranked it up to its warmest setting. The bath towel needed to be nice and toasty warm in about fifteen minutes.
Wilson flicked off the lamp on House's nightstand. The only light visible in the room was the tiny red glow from the power button on the heating pad.
"Stay still," Wilson growled in a sensual, low voice.
Wilson crawled back into bed, under the covers, from the foot of the bed. He had one corner of the warm wet washcloth in his mouth. Slowly dragging the other three corners of the washcloth up the inside of House's left leg, he arrived at his destination and let go of the fourth corner of the washcloth, covering Little Greg completely, and muttering "Don't move. It's time to finish the cleanup."
"Mmmnnnhhhh," House moaned, reveling in the newfound feeling of unconditional love without the expectation of anything in return, the warmth of Wilson's body and the warmth of the wet washcloth. Little Greg wasn't going to morph into Mount Gregory again tonight, but Wilson gave his love to House unconditionally anyway. Wilson didn't need Mount Gregory to erupt the first time, let alone a second time tonight. He helped House with his problem simply because he loved House. This feeling of unconditional love was very new to House. Someone doing something enjoyable for him without expecting anything in return. Enjoying the clean warmth, House turned to Wilson and whispered "I love you" over and over again, his voice becoming softer and softer, until the only sound coming from him was a soft snore.
Wilson lay awake whispering sweet nothings into House's neck, his left ear, and his hair. The cleanup wasn't finished yet, but if House could sleep through Wilson's nonstop sensual whispering, he'd let him sleep.
A few minutes later, House's eyelids began to flutter open a little. "You're not finished yet, are you…" House whispered back hoarsely.
"Not yet…" Wilson murmured.
Wilson walked his index and middle fingers slowly up from one corner of the washcloth, all the way up House's stomach, to his right nipple, around his right nipple, over to his left nipple, and back down to the other corner of the washcloth. Using his thumb and index finger, he deftly but gently flicked the washcloth to the floor.
"Stay there," he whispered softly to House, his words brushing past House's left ear.
Wilson crept softly out of bed, over to House's nightstand, and removed the toasty warm bath towel. Back into bed he slipped under the covers from the foot of the bed.
"Close your eyes."
Suddenly House's entire pelvic region and especially his right thigh were awash in the wonderful sensation of a hot plush towel. One of his fondest memories from a troubled childhood was when, after a cool bath, dressed in a clean shirt and shorts, he and his mother would go outside in the shade and he would stick his wet bare feet in the hot Egyptian sand. Even though he could only tolerate the hot sand for a few minutes, he enjoyed it, and more than that, he enjoyed the time with his mother.
Soaking in the dry heat from the toasty towel, he felt Wilson tuck the towel as well as he could around both of House's hips. He barely heard Wilson whisper, "Turn over on your side." There was so much wonderful, warm dry heat soaking through into his right thigh that pain was completely non-existent. House sleepily but dutifully rolled over onto his right side. Wilson was on the left side of the bed. With House's back to Wilson, he had no idea what Wilson was going to do next, but given the ministrations of the last few hours, he trusted Wilson completely and knew it would be wonderful.
Wilson lightly touched his tongue to House's back, beginning at the area between House's shoulder blades, and slowly licked his way down House's spine to the area of his lower back just above his tail bone. Suddenly, the licking stopped. The sound of a paper backing being pulled off of something sticky could be heard. It was faint. Just as quickly as the licking stopped, it started again, but this time House could feel Wilson licking a tiny area in the small of his back. He started in the center of the small circle, and then very slowly and sensually licked clockwise in gradually enlarging circles until an area about the size of a United States silver dollar had been licked clean.
As quickly as the licking stopped, he felt the sensation of something sticky being applied to his lower back. Moving his head back up to the middle of House's back, Wilson whispered hoarsely "Roll back on your back again, my king."
As House rolled back over onto his back, Wilson took care to make sure that the hot towel stayed in place around House's hips. Moving his beautiful brown-eyed gaze up to meet House's blue eyes, Wilson whispered "Close your eyes now and don't move."
House sighed deeply as he felt Wilson's tongue on the inside of his left knee. Moving up slowly, he traced a path up the inside of House's left leg, and House sighed again as he felt Wilson's head burrow underneath the hot towel. He felt Wilson's tongue trace its way slowly over to the anterior surface of his left thigh, to the edge of the old spent fentanyl patch. Nibbling on the non-medicated edge of the patch, Wilson grabbed the edge of it between his teeth and gently pulled it free from House's skin. Slowly sliding his head out from underneath the hot towel, Wilson looked up at House. With the edge of the spent patch still between his teeth, Wilson growled out "Open your eyes."
Looking straight into House's beautiful blue eyes, which sparkled even in the dark, Wilson slowly turned his head and spat the patch out onto the floor.
House started to feel the effects of the new fentanyl patch Wilson had so lovingly and sensually applied to his lower back.
Returning to gaze into his gorgeous baby blues again by the dim light of the heating pad's power switch, Wilson whispered "One more thing, big guy. Don't move."
Using the index finger of his left hand to trace his way slowly across House's chest and neck, Wilson reached over House to retrieve the heating pad on House's night stand.
Touching one corner of the warm heating pad to House's chest, Wilson slowly dragged the heating pad across the right side of House's chest, moving diagonally from the right side of his chest slowly down to House's abdomen. Allowing the heating pad to gently rest on House's abdomen for a few minutes, Wilson moved his ministrations southward a little and slowly removed the hot towel from around House's hips.
With a dramatic and sensual flair, he tossed the towel to the floor. With one corner of the heating pad between his thumb and index finger, one more ministration was in order before the clean up could be considered complete.
Gradually, oh so slowly, House felt one edge of the heating pad moving down from his abdomen to just above his pubic bone, then over the pubic bone until the entire heating pad found its final resting place on his right thigh.
Breathing roughly and hoarsely into House's left ear again, Wilson whispered "Good night, my king."
Wilson let the gorgeous sound of House's gentle snoring rock him to sleep.
