009. Puzzle

Conundrum

There were times when Wilson wondered whether he was just another puzzle to House. They came more often than he really liked and he always thought that if he was a puzzle, he couldn't possibly be a very interesting one. Then the thought would always follow that if he wasn't an interesting puzzle, why did House stick around? He knew the man well enough to know that when House had solved a puzzle, he moved on.

But then House would do something or say something and the thoughts of being nothing more than a puzzle would disappear into the ether, replaced by amusement or exasperation or frustration or even anger.

He felt like a puzzle again tonight though for once that thought didn't rankle. House was lying on top of him, naked, warm and heavy, slowly covering every part of his body with fleeting, teasing touches and quick, maddening kisses and licks and bites. It felt like House was slowly discovering everything there was to know about him, working out every last puzzle, finding the answer to every last question. He writhed under this strangely gentle assault, whispering encouragement and curses with equal intensity and hoped that this was one puzzle House wouldn't discard.