The scene seemed to freeze, he could see Wilson's gait falter just before he turned into his room, House's soft admission sounding more like one of guilt and shattering the illusion that this was anything like a game.
"What?" House could only just hear the breathy whisper from where he stood, still reeling from having said out loud what he had spent so long trying to deny.
He clamped his mouth shut, pulling his lip between his teeth and worrying at it as he heard the soft sound of Wilson padding back slowly into the living room, hovering in the doorway so that he was covered in the shadows that hugged the edges of the room.
He shook his head, realising it was now too late to deny the quiet vehemence that had just escaped him. There was the soft sound of Wilson putting down the water and the pills on the consol table, and when he chanced a quick glance he could see him stood still, both hands curled around the back of his neck, framing his face with his arms and blocking his expression from sight.
"What's going on House?" he asked him quietly, sounding weary and pained, he squeezed his hands once and then let them fall, turning his face to meet his and root him to the spot with his darkened gaze.
"I don't know." House whispered, a pointless and useless lie made up the face of being able to coherently form the words he wanted to say. He never planned this far ahead, had never thought he'd ever utter those words in his lifetime, at least not to Wilson. Sure, he's thought about other things, fleeting daydreams of what it would be like to hold him, to run his fingers through his hair and to spend entire Sunday's relaxed on the couch. But he'd never dared to dream that he would actually have the courage to admit how he felt, not out loud, not to his face.
"You don't know?" there was something almost humorous behind the desperation. "House, you said you didn't..." Wilson rubbed at his face, edgy and stilted as he paused for a moment, slowly drawing a breath in and holding it for a moment, a brief glance of pain across his face. "What do you want, House?"
He fought the childish urge to thrust his hands into his pockets, anything to keep them busy from the way he flexed his fingers back and forth into fists. "You." His voice was small in the dark apartment and although he'd looked away he could still feel where Wilson's eyes had locked onto his face. "But, I don't want to...lose you." There, he'd said it. He'd said it before, something casual and tossed out there and perceived as a minor insecurity, but there was no way now it could be taken as such, not when he'd spent two days avoiding the ICU, refusing to answer the calls of his fellows and the repeated attempts to page him with new results. No, now it was something visceral, almost physical, an imperfect reflection of how utterly damaged and afraid he was. "I can't not have you in my life." He turned then, facing and meeting Wilson's sad gaze to let the full impact of his fears hit home.
"I told you..." Wilson stepped forward, his hands wide and open in either supplication or offering. "You can't lose me." He held House's gaze. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Not now." House countered, a sad bitterness creeping in to his voice. "But you will." He dropped his focus again. "They always leave. I always do something."
"I'm not asking you to change; I'll never ask you to change." Wilson offered, closer now than before, blocking more of the light as he moved to stand before him.
"You can't fix me." House said soberly.
"I don't even want to try."
"You'll leave." He sounded so certain, resigned before even starting. "You'll leave because I'll go one step too far, you'll get tired of having to look after me, of making excuses for me, and you will leave." He raised his chin, dragging his eyes up and over the soft and shadowed layers of clothes before him, drinking up the sight of Wilson bathed in the half light, the way the lamp muted the lines of his face, making him seem unbearably young. He could feel his eyes begin to burn. "I'm scared that..." he throat clenched, an odd choking noise swallowing around the tightness that constricted him.
"Scared of what?" they were less than a foot apart, the air between them heavy and electric, every painful jolt of adrenaline pouring through House's heart spurred on by the aching need to let his fingers smooth away the sorrow that pinched at Wilson's face.
"That if I hold on now, I won't be able to let go later. I'm terrified of what that might do to me..." he clenched his hands to stop them rising. "And I would rather spend another twenty years just being your friend than..." he sighed, letting the implication fill in the blanks. "You have no idea..." He almost laughed, the situation he'd found himself in almost overwhelming. "...the power you hold over me."
He let his eyes drift close, felt the breath in his lungs pull and stretch, heard the pulse beat in his ears in the silence that followed his deadened admission. He'd said his piece, had lain himself bare and he felt neither better nor worse for it, like he had placed his next card on the table but that they were still so early on in the game that it felt almost inconsequential, because he knew he would lose, no matter how he played.
"I want to try." Wilson's hands on his arms, warmth and fragility permeating through his shirt and dancing across his skin, making him shiver. "I want to make it work, I don't want to carry on...not...knowing." He was so much closer now; he could feel it in the way Wilson's words ghosted across the skin of his neck, breath faltering and heart racing. "Please." Breathed against his cheek.
His fingers brushed against Wilson's back, seeking and finding the comforting warmth of his skin beneath his shirt, drifting up smoothing over the familiar feel of his body beneath his touch.
He leant back, opening his eyes and finding Wilson's gaze averted, embarrassed or ashamed at having resorted to pleading. He held his finger to Wilson's chin, turning him so that the light caught the tears on his face.
He was foolish to think he could ever deny him.
Was stupid for even trying.
Eyes opened, dark and glittering in the half light as he searched House's face for a glimmer of something...anything. His heart skipped a beat, breath shallow as he traced the path of his tears, smudging them with his thumb and he wiped them away. "You always look so beautiful when you cry." He whispered, more of an afterthought that had found its own voice and rested briefly upon his lips as he watched his own hand move to hold against Wilson's cheek, fingertips drifting into his hair as he pressed into his touch, eyes never leaving his own.
House stepped forward, his forehead resting lightly on Wilson's, hands drifting into his hair and holding him close as he felt the unsure slip of Wilson's arm's circling his waist, another soft plea muttered softly into the space between them.
"It won't be easy." He told him quietly.
"I know." A calm and hushed acceptance, the hands on his back flaring and pulling him closer, head tilting until their lips brushed.
House swallowed, tongue lapping at his dry lips. "I want everything." He said, either a warning or a last ditch attempt to make Wilson see some sort of sense.
"You can have it." Promised just before Wilson kissed him, pressing up into him and making House's hand clench tightly in his hair, one short and sober moment of lingering doubt before he pressed back, chaste and slow and heartbreakingly perfect. Wilson sighed against him, hands moving across his back, gentle fleeting touches that mapped his body through his clothes as House moved his thumb to trace where their lips pressed together, trying to stop his own noise of pleasure as Wilson opened his mouth, drawing him in to glorious heat, his tongue soft and pliant and meeting house stroke for stroke. He stepped lightly when House pushed him back, two steps and then the cushioned back of the couch against the back of his thighs, settling down and sighing deeply as their bodies dragged against each other as the angle of their fervour changed, the hands in his hair drifting down his neck and House smiled into the kiss as Wilson shivered beneath his touch.
"Say it again." Wilson's hand on his chest, turning and twisting into his shirt and drawing him close, knees parting so he could stand flush against him. House smiled, slow and gentle kisses stoking the fires as he let his tongue draw heat across his bottom lip, teeth grazing over the path and he turned to follow it across his cheek, feeling Wilson's lashes brush against his own, pushing forward and nuzzling gently as the soft skin beneath Wilson's ear and savouring the quiet, heady moan as he whispered faintly "I love you."
The hand that had been pressed firmly to his chest moved, smoothing down his stomach and dragging at his shirt, sudden warmth as it slipped beneath his tee, nails scraping across his skin and making his stomach jolt. "You're not going to run away again are you?" Wilson muttered, sounding unsure and turned on at the same time, responding to the hot kisses House pressed against his neck, the way he pulled at the collar of his shirt so he could sweep his tongue over his heated skin.
"I won't if you won't." He promised, drawing back up to capture his lips again, swallowing the sigh that pushed into his mouth and replying with his own quiet moan at the feel of Wilson's hands beneath his shirt.
"I'm not going anywhere." Said between kisses as Wilson stood, hands sliding up and around his back, making House shiver and moan, his own hands threaded into thick hair and pulling him close, holding him so he could kiss him deeper, lapping at the taste of him and savouring the thrill that shook his body. He slung his arms low around Wilson's waist, pulling him up against him as Wilson draped his arms around his neck, his body warm and soft as he stretched up against him.
They moved together, feet finding their own way and guiding them slowly as they spun in a slow dance, unhurried and enjoying the journey as they let hands wander, lips meet as they kissed each other slowly, names and pleas whispered against each other's lips.
House's room was exactly how they had left it days ago, the covers still loose, the bed unmade as he hadn't the heart or the courage to face returning to the last place he'd felt whole and clean. But that didn't matter now, not when he could guide Wilson down to lay in the soft tangle of sheets, ever mindful of the soft gasps of pain that House that he'd only just left the hospital. "You okay?" he whispered into the dark, fingertips tracing his cheek, slightly rough beneath his touch, the dark shine of Wilson's eyes searching his face in the heady gloom.
"I'm fine." The soft hint of a smile curling at his lips and House couldn't help but sweep down to capture it with his kiss, an intoxicating warmth spreading through his chest as Wilson ran his fingers through his hair, holding fast to the back of his neck and drawing him down to lay beside him.
His hand fit perfectly to the curve of Wilson's waist, thumb drawing slow and maddening circles through his shirt. House closed his eyes, pressing his face to Wilson's neck and breathing him in, his lips moving across soft and heated skin and he let out a low sound of pleasure as Wilson arched into him, sliding his knee between his legs and his hand beneath House's shirt flattened out against his back and pulled him closer, his breath heavy and restrained in House's ear.
Wilson's shirt rose beneath his hand, his fingers smoothing now over his skin, following the gentle lines and curve of his back, over the shifting of his body as he breathed, shallow and exhilarating and breathed in with every kiss that House stole from his lips, and suddenly it wasn't quite enough.
House dragged himself away, drawing up to balance on his knees and pulling Wilson up with him as he divested himself of his shirt, his hands reaching for Wilson's and pushing it up, momentarily obscuring the shy smile that graced his lips and mussing up his hair in a wonderfully endearing way, more so than House's hands when he ran his fingers through his hair a moment later, bringing them back together, their bodies flush and the thrill of skin on skin contact causing them both to gasp.
Wilson's hands were on his face, fingertips trembling over his cheeks, fluttering down and following the line of the wild beat of his heart in his throat, his palms pushing against his chest as he tipped his head back, allowing more room for House to lick and kiss and bite his way down his neck, his hands coming to rest low on his back to hold him, keeping him from falling back under the onslaught.
House's thumb caught the brittle edges of stitches, a hiss of pain echoing in his ear when he pressed too hard. He rocked back onto his knees, hands on Wilson's waist as he stared at the harsh intrusion marring his skin, the flesh around it mottled and bruised from the force needed to push the metal through skin and muscle. He leant forward, his fingers drifting reverentially over his skin, warm breath following the path and leading him into pressing the softest of kisses to the bruised flesh. He felt Wilson sigh in the way his stomach moved beneath his lips, the gentle tremble lapped up by the long, slow draw of his tongue. Wilson's hands were on his shoulders, drawing idle patterns and pressing down firmly with every graze of teeth that dragged across his skin, his fingers twisting into his hair and holding him closer to his chest as House worked his way up, small peppered kisses scattered across his shoulders until he claimed Wilson's lips with renewed fervour, nudging them open and chasing the low sound he made with his tongue. House's hands worked slowly, hooking on the waistband of Wilson's jeans, thumbing the buttons undone and slipping his hands into the warmth beneath soft denim. "How far do you want to take this?" House mumbled into the hinge of Wilson's jaw, tongue tasting his skin as the pulse beneath his tongue raced. He knew Wilson was hurting, could hear it in the way his breathing hitched, odd mewling sounds of pained littered amongst the gasps and guarded moans. But he also knew Wilson would tell him when to stop.
"I want you." Wilson's breathy reply made House's heart leap in his chest, his hands flex and delve deeper into Wilson's jeans, pushing them down as Wilson's hands moved to tug at House's clothes. They fell back to the sheets, cool beneath Wilson's back and the perfect contradiction to the burning heat of House's tongue as it laved a heated path across his chest, his hands clutching at his shoulders, his back, running through his hair as he arched up into the hot open mouthed kisses.
"Have you ever done this before?" House mumbled into heated skin, hands digging into Wilson's hips as he listened to his laboured breaths.
Wilson tensed for one long moment, his hands stilling on House's shoulders. "No."
"Me neither." He turned his head to press his smile into the palm of Wilson's hand, kissing his fingers as they trailed across his lips. He pulled back, dragging his hands down Wilson's legs and pulling at his clothes and wishing he'd had the forethought to turn on the light as they'd entered so he could see him, could let his eyes soak in the image of Wilson spread out upon his bed, hair wild and eyes dark as he stared up at him. Instead he had to make do with the muted orange light that filtered in through the curtains outside and the sensory thrill of feeling every trembling sigh transferred into his hungry touch. He shirked his jeans, the cool air a shock on his skin and he made a diversion to his bedside table, fumbling through the drawer before returning, Wilson's hand already curling around his thigh in anticipation, reaching up to pull him down into an eager kiss. "God, feels like I've wanted this forever."
Wilson smiled against him, his fingers trailing in one long slow path down House's chest, fluttering across his stomach as he hovered over him, his soft laugh at the noise House made when his hand curled around him in a sure motion swallowed quickly in a fervent kiss, mouths wide and hungry and punctuated with a sigh as House mirrored his action, his arm shaking as it took all his weight, ignoring the burn in lieu of filing every heady whimper spilled forth from Wilson's lips to memory.
The air around them changed, became more charged, like a storm building around them, hot and heady and waiting to break as they worked each other with a familiar ease, knowing what would work to make the other gasp and moan, to make House drop his forehead to sweat glistened skin, to make Wilson arch up, a shock of pain lancing through him as his back left the bed. "Oh god House, please..."
Always one to take hint, House slumped onto his side, pushing at Wilson's shoulder until he could slide his arm beneath his neck, bringing them flush together, his chest pressed tight to his back and his heart beating hard enough for the both of them. He patted around for the tube he'd cast on the bed, paying more attention to the taste of Wilson's neck and the way he pressed back against him, his arm reaching back to curl his fingers into House's hair as he twisted to capture his mouth in a breathless kiss. "Love you." Whispered against his lips with an innocence that betrayed the moment, the look of childlike naivety replaced with a pained rapture as years of unrequited passion and ardent desire long held in check were finally dashed aside with the long, slow slide of them finally coming together. Wilson's fingers clenched painfully in his hair, breaths coming short and fast, gusting across his House's lips as he kissed away the hurt, his hand on his cheek, thumb stroking at the lines around his eyes.
"You okay?"
Wilson nodded, the movement sharp with his eyes pressed shut.
"I'm good." He gasped, pushing back against House and biting at his lip as he silenced the high note of discomfort.
"We can stop." House muttered, unsure even as he said it whether he could if he wanted to, he buried his face in Wilson's shoulder, fighting the urge to push forward into the glorious, burning heat, waiting and holding his breath as slowly, achingly slowly, Wilson's grip relaxed, moving with trembling uncertainty to curl around House's hand where he'd held it to his chest, heart hammering as their fingers thread together. He shook his head, tongue flicking out to wet his lips, his other hand twisted madly in the sheets as he opened his eyes to gaze up at House, bright and shimmering in the faint light.
He pulled gently until their lips met, mouths soft and warm and wet as they kissed, slow and unhurried and filled with a burning tension that made House's stomach twist and jump, fire in his veins as slowly they began to move, needing to hear more frantic pleas drawn from their leisurely pace. "Say it again?" a soft request spoken softly into his mouth and House felt the tug of an indulgent smile pulling at his lips.
"I love you." Said at the perfect moment he hit something inside Wilson that made him groan and grip his hand tighter, turning to press his face into the pillow to gasp open mouthed into the cool, soft cotton as House pushed faster, moved their joined hands until he could curl his hand around him in a sure grip, moving in time to his quickening thrusts.
He'd waited years to say it, had had to bite his lips a thousand times to stop it from bursting forth during heated arguments and those times they held each other's eyes for just a second too long. To say it now was fantasy realised, to be able to hold him in his arms, to feel their skin slide together and hear Wilson gasp his name in pained desire was too much for him.
He pressed his face into Wilson's neck, eyes closed and mouth open, his breath hot and damp against the skin beneath his lips, licking and biting and muttering urgent obscenities that punctuated the soft, muffled cries captured by the pillow. He rolled them slightly, his hand grasping at Wilson's, fingers entwined as he crashed them down into the mattress by Wilson's head, pressing him further into the sheets and drinking in the impassioned cry that ripped from his chest with such a furious desire that it was wonder he didn't rip his stitches. House smiled, mapping the planes of Wilson's back with his tongue, tasting and biting and digging his fingers into Wilson's hips and he fought to control himself, to hold back.
He was too close, too caught up in the unadulterated thrill of this not being a fantasy of his own twisted mind, that it was real and it was now, and it was so much better than he'd ever dared to dream. He pulled back, hand curling round Wilson's shoulder to turn him suddenly, the desperate desire to see him in the shallow light overcoming the thought of Wilson's pain, the very real sting of his own as he pushed Wilson onto his back, eyes drawn together and locked in the dark, the thin glimmer of longing glittering in his dark eyes as they came together again, mouth caught in a deep and hungry kiss.
It was much better this way, to be able to kiss him as they moved, to feel his fingers gentle and trembling as they ran through his hair, his touch lingering over his cheeks, tracing his lips and the wonderful soft and breathtaking laugh as House licked at his fingertips, teeth grazing and tongue flicking, turning his face so that House could continue, following the thundering path of his pulse beneath his skin, feeling the rock of their bodies as their hearts hammered in the chests, pressed tight together , so hard to know where one ended and the other began.
House sighed, wrapping his arms around him and holding him close as he felt arms tight around his back.
It was perfect. He was perfect.
"Beautiful." He whispered, awe and reverence in his voice as he captured warm and swollen lips with his own, kissed him until he was breathless, until he begged for more with uttered pleas and whispered attestations of love.
And House would never deny him.
And he moved quicker, each rocking thrust stoking a furious fire that blazed through him, burning away every cold and distant thought until there was only this, only now, just Wilson, warm and alive beneath him, arching up and gasping his name as they both strived towards rapturous release, hands held and hair damp. House could feel Wilson's body tighten, paused on the edge, head thrown back and hands gripped on his arms, nails digging into his akin. "Look at me." His hand on Wilson's cheek, thumb drawn across his lip and the look his caught in Wilson's eyes was enough to send him over the edge, Wilson's name tumbling from his lips in a litany of prayers, foreheads pressed together, breathing each other's breathless gasps as the fireworks exploded behind his eyes, vision blurred and body ignited for that one white hot moment that echoed an eternity, until he was falling, coasting gracefully to the ground and he arms gave out, one tiny lingering thought in his head guiding him to one side, collapsing and rolling, arm slung across Wilson's chest, heavy and listless over his racing heart.
"Fuck." Wilson breathed succinctly.
House felt a laugh bubble up inside him, shaking the bed as lay half sprawled across him. "Exactly."
The bed rocked a little harder as Wilson laughed too, his hand resting on House's arm, fingers encircling his wrist as House moved, limbs wracked with shaking tremors as he crawled around the bed, slumping down against the pillows and dragging Wilson full body up against him, head tucked beneath his chin, legs tangled in the sheets that he had no energy to reach down and drag up over them. "Well," House swallowed roughly, mouth dry. "I think we can safely say there's no coming back from that."
"God, I hope not." Wilson mumbled, his lips brushing the overly sensitive spot just beneath his ear.
House hummed in pleasure, breath still a little short and he knew his body was going to kill in the morning; sure as hell they'd both need to soak in the tub. He probably should have felt more guilty, shouldn't have pushed them both so far but right now he couldn't care, not when he could feel his body sinking into the mattress, his cheek turned to rest against Wilson's hair, his chest cool where he breathed out across him. He looked down at the hand resting lax upon his chest, fingertips loose in his grip as he played and twined their fingers together, bringing them momentarily to his lips.
"James?" The constraint in his voice was evident in the silence, he heard Wilson sigh beside him, felt the murmured assent to continue. House paused, a kiss pressed lightly into Wilson's hair.
"House...?" Wilson stirred, raising his head but stopped by the tight hold House had across his shoulders.
He sighed, long and deep. "I want this to be it." He said simply, it was hardly a proposal, but it was a desire, admittance to wanting everything they had to give, to have their life together.
Wilson rolled his head, looking up beneath dark lashes to catch his gaze, to read the insecurity and nervous hesitance, and House couldn't see his face too well but he could see the way his smile lit up his eyes, something confident and sure as he leant up to briefly capture House's lips, drawing him down into a deliberately slow kiss that felt so much different from the hurried kisses they had just shared. This was different, this was an agreement, this was promise.
Wilson's hand over his heart. "This is it."