Warning for this one. Rated T. Post-slash-filled-sex kind of T. And Wilson is a bit of a chick in this. House is so adorable sometimes.
Summary: Wilson pondering House's sleeping habits.
I was going to be a little bitchy at work in the morning. I couldn't get to sleep.
I had slept with Dr. Gregory House, the terror of all Jersey. Well, obviously not technically, but there had been a large amount of sex in the last hour or so.
Here's something you should know; Greg House does not fall asleep, particularly around other people. Even when in a hospital bed, he would wait until the nurses changed shift before drifting. I had never seen him in that drowsy, staring-at-nothing haze, when his brain was obviously just switched off.
He had been looking at me, and then about to say something. Then, his eyes glazed over, and he snuggled his unshaven face between my neck and shoulder and just dropped off. His arm was flung over me, and our legs were a bit tangled, so it wasn't as though I was going anywhere.
I just couldn't fathom the raw cuteness of that little gesture. House was a snuggler. He snuggled. He had an unnatural affinity for snuggling.
With me, James Wilson.
I worked hard to supress the fangirl-ish squeal until I was in my car, driving to my apartment to change before work.