074. Afraid

Circles In My Mind

House lay on his back in his bed, staring at the shadows on the ceiling. His arms were wrapped around Wilson, who was curled into his side, his head on House's shoulder and one arm draped across his stomach, sleeping the sleep of the sated. For his part, House couldn't sleep. His thoughts were thrumming through his mind, chasing each other relentlessly, keeping him awake…and he knew why.

He was afraid.

Not something he'd admit to anyone in the cold light of day but now, in the middle of the night with shadows chasing themselves across the ceiling of his bedroom, he could admit it to himself.

He was afraid of the man lying in his arms. Or rather he was afraid of what the man lying in his arms would end up doing to him. Or what he might do to Wilson. It wasn't like either of them had the greatest track record when it came to relationships. That's if that was what you wanted to call this. He had no idea what had tipped things over the edge tonight. It wasn't as if they'd done anything differently tonight than any other night. Terrible movie on the TV, pizza, beer, nothing unusual about that. Then Wilson had gotten up and tripped over his cane.

House didn't know how that had happened. Wilson was usually very aware of where his cane and leg were and he couldn't remember the last time Wilson had made a mistake like that. Wilson had fallen towards him and House remembered the startled look on his face, the way Wilson tried to catch himself on the sofa so as not to fall on his leg and the way they ended up with one leg between House's and their faces so close to each other their noses were brushing. He couldn't remember who had made the first move. He remembered the scent of Wilson filling his nose, making him hard almost instantly. He remembered watching Wilson lick his lips and doing the same himself. It was entirely possible they had both moved at the same time, bridging the slight gap between them in unison.

The kiss had been tentative at first, just a brushing of lips as though they were both working out whether the other wanted this, whether they wanted it. The second kiss was more certain, deeper, a tangle of tongues, wet heat and desire. Wilson had shifted slightly, settling himself on the sofa in a more comfortable fashion, never separating their lips and pressing his thigh into House's erection. House had moaned into Wilson's mouth and the younger man had responded by deepening the kiss even further.

House shifted slightly as he remembered those kisses causing Wilson to murmur in his sleep. Hot, wet and carnal, they got his blood racing even now. They'd somehow staggered into the bedroom and stripped each other without much interruption to those kisses then Wilson had lain back on the bed and all but demanded to be fucked. Thankfully House had had condoms and something that could pass for lube because that was something that he had no intention of refusing.

But all of that had been done in a haze of lust and want. Now he was calm and rational and thinking far more clearly than he really wanted to be. This had the potential to be a disaster and it wasn't as if he had such a plethora of friends that he could afford to lose one. But he could also admit to himself that this could be a very good thing. Wilson had an extraordinary patience with him but at the same time, he had never hesitated to slap him down when it was needed. It was one of the things he valued about the man.

"Greg, stop thinking and go to sleep."

The sleepy murmur made him start and he looked down to see slitted brown eyes looking at him blearily.

"James…" he said a little helplessly.

"We'll talk in the morning," Wilson muttered. "But I want this, want you. Have for a while. Not going to give up on you that easily now when I never have before."

A tiny smile quirked the corner of House's mouth and he tightened his grip on his lover. Wilson murmured appreciatively and gently petted House's chest a few times before slipping into sleep again. House stared up at the ceiling for a moment longer then closed his eyes. If Wilson wasn't going to give up on him then the least he could do was return the favour.