038. Touch
Right to Touch
Wilson lay on his side in the wide bed, a small half-smile on his face. Next to him lay House, sprawled on his back, his face relaxed in sleep in a way it never was when he was awake. Wilson knew he should sleep, that he had work tomorrow that he needed to be at his best for. But he was currently in a place he's always wanted to be but never quite believed would actually happen.
The smile broadened slightly as he remembered the argument that had led to this. It wasn't a particularly profound one; it might have made more sense if it had been. Instead it had one of their occasional arguments about House's persistent habit of mixing Vicodin with alcohol. Wilson could never really work out why he could sit here drinking beer with House for weeks and then get agitated about it on other nights. Maybe it had something to do with work or maybe it just built up over the weeks until he reached a critical mass. Whatever caused it, tonight it had taken a bit of a curve down a completely unexpected path.
In the middle of the argument, House had tried to get past him and he placed his hand on House's chest. His hand had been a bit off centre and with the movement he'd been trying to stop, his fingers had brushed over one of House's nipples. With his hand on House's chest, he caught the small but sharp intake of breath and being so close and already looking House in the face, he'd seen the flash of lust and want that flickered through House's eyes before it was well-hidden again.
Wilson had had something of an epiphany at that point and rather than dwell on it and potentially talk himself out of it, he'd stepped forward until he was pressed against House, his hand now trapped between their bodies. House's breath had caught again and Wilson saw that want and lust flare in House's eyes again, this time accompanied by desire, uncertainty and hope. He then kissed House and…well, the next couple of hours were a bit of a blur.
So now he was where he wanted to be with apparently full rights to touch the man lying beside him however he wanted. He reached out and his hand hovered just over House's chest. He wanted to touch. The selfish part that was crowing about its victory wanted to touch and keep touching. But the more rational part of him, the part that knew that House didn't sleep well at the best of times, kept him from touching, not wanting to risk waking the other man.
He gave a start when House reached up and grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand down so that it rested on his chest. He looked over and saw that House's eyes were closed though from the tiny smirk, he seemed to be fairly amused.
"Go to sleep," House said, his voice a sleepy rumble that Wilson could feel where his hand was resting.
Wilson smiled then slid his hand around House's chest until he was sprawled against his side. He got a grumble of complaint from House but he couldn't help but notice that his lover pulled him a bit closer even as he was grumbling. Wilson lay there, listening as House fell asleep again and letting himself slowly fall asleep as well.