Work Text:
His eyes fixed on the ceiling and the white noise of the refrigerator flooding his head drive him increasingly desperate. The sheets and blankets were starting to suffocate him, and his husband’s absence was more noticeable than ever.
Wilson had said goodbye five days ago to attend an oncology conference, he had to give a speech on who knows what. His sleep schedule had been completely thrown off, the lack of warmth beside him intolerable, leaving behind an uncomfortable emptiness that kept him awake.
The fact that just Wilson’s presence made resting easier said a lot about them. Of course, he had gone to bed without Wilson before, before their relationship, or even while married, when Wilson had to stay late at the hospital due to emergencies.
He didn’t understand why he couldn’t fall asleep now.
He would be back soon, the next day, actually. Still, this time apart had made him realize just how deeply he loved his husband. All the sentimental crap that used to make him gag now circled through his mind constantly, making him miss him more and more.
Stealing his sleep. Smothering him.
He kept staring at the ceiling, and though his eyes felt heavy, the moment he closed them, all traces of fatigue vanished, frustrating him even further. The ghost of Wilson’s comforting weight beside him haunted him, leaving him more confused than before.
He had probably been like this for hours. He considered grabbing some sleeping pills, after all, they were within reach. Wilson used to take them when things got rough. But that would be unnecessary. It’s not like he had insomnia or anything, he was just thinking too much. He wasn’t that kind of person. He rolled over for the umpteenth time in bed.
His alarm blared loudly, mocking him. A new day, right on schedule.
He got up and stretched, limped to the bathroom, and turned on the light. He winced at the sudden brightness and finally took a good look at his face.
Honestly, he looked like shit.
The dark bags had settled under his eyes, giving him an exhausted look. As he lifted his toothbrush, he noticed the constant tremor in his hands. This whole not-sleeping thing was really catching up with him, wasn’t it?
He shook his head, dismissing it. Took a Vicodin and headed to the hospital.
Throughout the day, he had a few problems due to lack of sleep, nothing an energy drink couldn’t fix. Though now he wasn’t so sure about that. The workday finally came to an end. The case had been a bit tricky to solve, but nothing out of the ordinary. Thankfully, his epiphany hadn’t been compromised by the sluggishness of his exhausted brain.
He could barely keep his eyes open. He put on his coat and grabbed his backpack, turned off the lights and called it a day. He got on his motorcycle, making sure he was awake enough to ride and not cause an accident on the road.
He finally arrived at the apartment he shared with Wilson, slowly opening the door, only to be surprised to find that his husband was already there.
“You look awful.” Wilson commented, standing up from the couch. His brown eyes showed a concern his face refused to adopt.
“Hello to you too.” House let out a low snort of laughter and walked toward his husband. He was genuinely glad he was back. The familiar warmth of Wilson quickly filled what had been a cold room just yesterday. This man’s ability to make Gregory feel at ease was astounding.
“Have you even slept?” Wilson asked gently after they pulled apart from a long hug, taking House’s face in his hands. He probably already knew the answer.
“It’s… hard without you around.” House looked down at the floor. He felt that if he made eye contact, Wilson would know, know that he depended on him, that he couldn’t manage alone.
James hugged him again. He felt warmth flood through his body once more. It seemed difficult to get used to, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. A wave of emotion washed over him from head to toe, paralyzing him. After a few seconds, he finally managed to move and return the embrace.
His hands clutched tightly at his husband’s hoodie, and his head buried itself in the space between Wilson’s neck and shoulder. Wilson drew slow, invisible circles on his back, it was comforting. And now, he knew he’d finally be able to sleep. The domestic scene felt almost natural for them. The fire in the fireplace danced beside them, more alive than ever.
The week had been exhausting, but his husband was home. James Wilson was here, and House felt more capable than he had since the moment he left. This man truly had a gift.
“Let’s go to bed.” House said after a while. He didn’t really want to let go, but he was tired, and he knew Wilson was too.
“Alright.” Wilson replied, somewhat surprised by how easily he had achieved his goal, without the usual lecture about self-care and all the other standard sermons. He stood up first and extended a hand to House. Together, they walked to the bedroom and lay down on the bed.
The lights went out, and only the floating sound of their breathing remained. Nothing had changed, the night was the same, but now the weight beside him was real. He turned to look at his husband, who was already drowsily drifting off, exhausted from the trip. He wrapped his arms around him one last time that day and finally managed to fall asleep, hoping it would stay this way for the rest of his life.