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Wilson was angry at House. It was visible as he stalked after the other man, annoyed at the lack of context he was given as to why House needed him. The hospital was nearly empty at this hour and his footsteps hitting the floor were audible, worn dress shoes against linoleum making a soft sound.
Wilson let out a frustrated sigh and House looked back at him, taking in his expressive face, his pissed off expression and light frown as he followed him. House knew Wilson really couldn’t hold a grudge, even though he was trying to.
They had made it to the end of a corridor and the door to the stairs located to the side. House pushed open the door, holding it for Wilson to follow as he waited on the landing between flights of stairs. The concrete stairs led both up and down from here and there was a window that really didn’t let in any light, making the space dim.
“House, I really don’t think stairs are for you,” Wilson said with an exasperated eye roll.
“I can’t see any reason why you would think that,” House replied in mock annoyance, letting the door fall shut behind them and setting his cane against the wall.
House paused in front of Wilson, looking down at the floor like he was considering something. Wilson was confused, trying to glimpse House’s expression cast downwards. He wasn’t sure what House was thinking right now, so he shoved his hands into his pockets and waited for House to explain himself.
“House-” Wilson had grown impatient, but his words were cut off as House took him by the waist and pushed him against the wall.
Wilson felt instantly breathless, House had pushed him into the wall hard, his head hit against it and he felt the impact across his shoulders. It hurt, but Wilson’s thoughts had been overtaken by how close House was to him, leaning into him, hands lingering at his hips. Pinned against the wall, Wilson felt helpless, but in a way he quite liked. All thoughts of how annoyed he had been at House evaporated, replaced by a sudden fluttering feeling and nervousness. He was very aware of how close House’s face was to his own, the tilt of his head, just hovering, tauntingly. Wilson parted his lips and looked up at House. His face was mostly in shadow, but there was an unmistakable glint in his eyes as he was studied intensely.
Wilson wanted him, wanted those lips on his own, wanted to feel the scrape of House’s beard and the heat of him so close. Yet he stayed perfectly still, breath short and let his eyes fall to House’s lips.
It was so hot between them, breath mixing in the small space, the scent of Wilson was so good and so familiar and comforting. Wilson tilted his face up, trying to catch House’s mouth with his own, but House pressed him into the wall harder, grip on the other man’s waist tightening, not allowing him closer.
House let their faces become infinitesimally closer and gauged Wilson’s reaction. Wilson’s shallow breathing in the darkness between them hit House’s face softly. House let their lips brush, leaning in and just barely hovering, never fully touching.
Wilson’s blood raced through him, he closed his eyes and desperately wanted House to kiss him properly. The graze of lips was intoxicating, he felt full of anticipation and anxiety and like there was nothing else in the world apart from House. He forgot all about where they were, why they were here, he forgot he was being pushed into a solid wall and House’s grip on him should have hurt. He felt like he stood on nothing, surrounded by nothing, in a world entirely of him and House, alone. The sound of their breathing and his own heart pounding in his ears was all he could hear. He wanted this so badly, the way his body ached for House caught him off guard, like when his feelings surfaced sometimes before quickly being beaten down and shoved to the side.
He wanted to lean into the kiss, deepen it, make it real, to feel the heat of House’s mouth fill his own, but he stayed put as House had nonverbally instructed. Their lips caught at each other, a little dry but so full of desire before House moved away to kiss gently at the spot close to Wilson’s ear. Initially, Wilson felt utterly disappointed that he hadn’t gotten his fill of House’s mouth on his own, but it was quickly replaced with an intense feeling bought on by House’s eager actions. The intimacy of it made Wilson feel exposed and like there was nothing he could do to shield his reactions like the soft, short whimper escaping when House bit gently at his skin.
Wilson moved to lay his hands at House’s sides and draw him even closer, if that were possible. House let out a hissing exhale close to Wilson’s ear, making him shiver. House moved his hands to loosen Wilson’s tie as he moved to kiss along Wilson’s jaw. He knew what he was doing, he knew how much Wilson wanted to kiss him back, but he was going to make him wait. Wilson tipped his head back, beautiful brown eyes half lidded and so, so dilated it was hard to see. The scrape of House’s beard on his skin felt like heaven. It felt like their bodies were telling them, this is right. Wilson was breathing heavily; every touch, sharp bite of teeth, and trailing of lips sent him further and further into another world.
House had managed to undo the top few buttons of Wilson’s shirt and pulled his collar to the side to attack further down his neck with his mouth. He lingered gently over Wilson’s thumping pulse giving it a nip and hearing the hitch in his breath.
“You’re mine,” House whispered, breathed almost, breath fluttering Wilson’s brown hair as he nuzzled in closer.
A shudder went through Wilson and he stared at the ceiling.
“I’ve been yours for the last decade,” Wilson returned through heaving breaths.
House made a pleased sound, low in his throat, before seting about leaving a good dark mark on Wilson. He bit into Wilson’s pale skin at his neck, making certain his bite pattern would stay behind. He was enjoying this immensely, taunting Wilson with his attention. But he didn’t want to actually hurt him past the point of pleasure, but it seemed so far at least that Wilson had a fairly high pain tolerance. The bruise just had to be a good one.
It felt so good, tingling feelings radiated through Wilson’s body from everywhere House’s mouth touched. Wilson couldn’t stop the choked cry he let out, almost guttural. He cared about nothing else right now as he raised a hand to tangle in the hair at House’s nape. He wanted this, it felt like this moment was all that existed and he had no cares for the future. He closed his eyes and let a hand fall to House’s waist. No thoughts about how hard this was going to be to cover up in the morning occurred to him yet as he breathed in the scent of House.
House slowly pulled back, searching Wilson’s face, taking in his distant eyes and tousled hair. He glanced down at Wilson’s neck and the bite mark he’d left behind, it was tinged purple and looked unbearably intimate, like it was for no one’s eyes but his. There was unmistakable pride in House’s expression.
House leaned in closer again and Wilson stared at him for a moment before being kissed. It was so painfully slow. So gentle when Wilson wanted it to be rough and unshielded. The soft warmth of House’s mouth on his and tongue sliding over his own sent all kinds of sensations through him. It was wet and sloppy but so perfect. House had one hand gently tracing the edge of Wilson’s shirt collar and the other resting at his waist.
Wilson’s hands had become tangled in House’s hair, threading through the soft curls. He was withstraining himself, barely, matching House’s pace. He felt out of his mind with longing like he’d never felt before. I’m his, kept rattling around his head. It was always meant to be like this. It was him, it was always him, it was House. Wilson utterly adored him and they were deeply, deeply in love, they always had been and refused to admit it. Kissing House was so natural, it felt like they’d done it a thousand times exactly like this. He didn’t want it to end.
House bit gently at Wilson’s lower lip, prying a whimper from him. Every sound Wilson made was utterly endearing, the sounds of their lips satisfied House as he lost himself in the kiss. This was his deepest, most hidden desire, hidden even from himself. But it had been there all along. He felt greedy, taking these kisses from Wilson, capturing him like this, knowing he was helpless to resist.
With immense effort, he placed a final gentle kiss on Wilson’s lips and pulled back slowly, realising his hands had moved to clutching at Wilson’s lapels. House gave Wilson a quick, calculating look, taking in the intense look on his face, dark eyebrows slightly furrowed. His lips were parted, shining from their kisses and in his eyes, House could see him slowly coming back to Earth.
House licked his lips, a hungry look in his eyes, a longing look like he wanted more. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth like he was about to say something. Instead he closed it again and squeezed Wilson’s hand. Before Wilson had caught up, House was reaching for his cane and limping out the door, leaving him behind in the stairwell.
Wilson looked after him for a moment, stunned at his sudden exit. He knew this would happen again, knew House had no self-control as it was and none at all when it came to something he wanted this much. But right now, he didn’t mind too much, he just smiled softly and reached to touch his neck gingerly. He let the smile spread across his face, warmth flooding his chest. There’ll be a next time.