003. Late

Desires

House pulled up in front of his apartment and brought the bike to a halt. He pulled off the helmet then slowly and carefully climbed off before grabbing his cane and limping up to the front door. He pulled his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door, dropping his helmet onto a nearby table and stripping his jacket off. He tossed the jacket over the back of the couch and limped slowly into the bedroom.

He came to a halt in the doorway and a small smile curved his lips. The bedside light was on and it showed the sleeping form of James Wilson sprawled in his bed. He limped over and sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning his cane against the bed small side table before leaning over to take off his shoes.

"What time is it?" came the sleep-slurred question as he sat up again.

"Late," he replied. "Go back to sleep."

He pulled off his shirts and tossed them to the floor but before he could unbutton and unzip his jeans he had a warm naked body plastered to his back and his earlobe was being sucked into a warm, wet mouth. He made a small indistinct noise and let his head fall back onto Wilson's shoulder.

He made another indistinct sound as Wilson's hands crept around over his chest and brushed over his nipples before heading down and undoing his jeans.

"Get them off," came the low order from behind.

"You're out of luck," House said even as he obeyed the order and sat down again.

"Oh? Why's that?" Wilson replied, his voice full of warm arousal and humour. His hands had resumed their downwards journey until they reached House's flaccid dick.

"That's why," House said flatly.

Wilson shifted his hands back to House's chest, encouraging him to lie down. He then leaned over and turned off the light before curling up into House's side and gently caressing his lover's chest. House's occasional bouts of impotence, usually caused by a combination of too much Vicodin, too much pain and/or too much alcohol, were frustrating for both of them and humiliating for House no matter how many times Wilson told him he didn't care.

"It's not all about sex," Wilson murmured into House's ear and he continued his soft caresses.

"You say that now but I can feel what's poking into my hip," House snapped.

Wilson chuckled and settled himself more comfortably. "Greg, I was married three times. I'm used to going without sex."

House was silent but Wilson knew him well enough to be able to read what House would not say aloud in that silence.

"I'm right where I want to be," he said softly. "I'm not going anywhere. Besides the sex is good enough that I can wait for it. Anticipation is a good thing."

House snorted but relaxed somewhat, wrapping his arms around Wilson and drawing him closer. He slid one hand down Wilson's side until he reached his hip then he moved it around until he could close his hand around Wilson's cock.

"Greg?" Wilson murmured as he bucked into House's hand. House's frustration with his own impotence usually meant that he was disinterested in sex of any kind and Wilson had never wanted to push.

"Shut up," House said, his voice a hoarse growl.

House's hand tightened slightly and he began to move slowly back and forth. Any further questions Wilson had were lost in his own moan as House slowly began to jerk him off. He buried his face into House's neck and gasped and panted as House's hand slowly sped up until he cried out and his hips jerked forward, semen spattering over House's hip and side. Wilson lay there, pressed into House's side as he panted and shuddered his way down from the unexpected orgasm, House gently stroking his side.

When he felt his brain resolidify he shifted slightly and murmured, "Why?"

House snorted and moved around until he could reach his discarded t-shirt. He used the shirt to clean them up then tossed it back onto the floor. Wilson pulled up the sheets and blankets with one lazy hand and they settled down once again.

"Because I wanted to."

House had finally answered his question when he was on the cusp of sleep and Wilson smiled.