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Title: Cocoon
Pairing: House/Wilson
Fandom: House, M.D.
Rating:....R?NC-17?
Summary: House loves Wilson. Simple.
Disclaimer: I own it like...I can't think of a non sexual metaphor.
Beta: The amazing craving_house who patiently helped me out with this one. Thanks so much. :-D
Warnings:...none that I can tell. :)
Cocoon
who would have known that a boy like him
would have entered me lightly restoring my blisses
who would have known that a boy like him
after sharing my core would stay going nowhere
-‘Cocoon’ by Bjork
The remaining Chinese had long been cold by the time Greg sat down at his piano. His fingers moved with a surprising grace
and deftness, creating harmonies that spoke of long winter nights and desires unfulfilled. Sighing, he picked up his glass
of Johnnie Walker and sipped, his thoughts nowhere and scattered. Familiar hands smoothed down his back, listing this way
and that; ever moving.
Silently James sat next to him with a soft smile, his fingers curling over the keys as he played a slow simple piece. Greg’s
lips turned up, the soothing sound exactly what he needed; funny how James always seemed to know. Greg rested his hand on
James’ shoulder, slowly tracing down his arm. He reached for James’ hand, silencing the room. James looked up
dazedly, confused. Greg let out a soft sigh, bringing James’ hand to his lips. He caressed his palm, tongue slipping
out to taste.
James took a deep breath and slowly let it out, relishing in Greg’s attention. He knew House appreciated him, perhaps
to the point of love; very rarely did he actually show it. We he did, however, it made the perpetual absence that much sweeter.
When they weren’t just Dr. House and Dr. Wilson, snarky bastard and unrepentant infidel, they were simply Greg and James.
He continued the meandering trail up James’ arm, stopping when he got to a rolled up sleeve. He gave a slight tug and
little smirk moving to his lover’s other arm. James slowly turned, leaning towards Greg, eyes fluttering. The warm light
from the lamp softened James’ countenance, causing him to appear as young as he was when he first met Greg.
Greg’s hand traveled over to James’ cheek, caressing his jaw with his fingertips. He gave his chin a slight nudge;
James let out a shaky breath and peered into his eyes. The emotion held him. Greg smiled, feeling like he was looking at James
for the very first time.
“Beautiful,” he said against his lips. He caressed James’ pout, running his tongue over James’ bottom
lip, his hand finding its way into his hair. James let out a whimper, his hands skimming up Greg’s chest and behind
his neck, anchoring him. Slowly, lips part. There was desire, yes, but not mind numbing hunger. Not tonight. There was simply
feeling. Tracing, loving. James needed this.
Greg’s lips went to James’ jaw, lavishing him with the attention of tongue and teeth. Lips soothing, gently. Slowly,
he pushed the buttons on James’ shirt through, revealing warm skin. Greg’s hands came and went, barely touching,
like a feather. Pianist’s fingers. Gasps, breaths, pants, broken sighs. James bit his lip, not quite containing any
of them. He arched towards Greg, who was slowly getting up.
“C’mon,” he spoke. Greg gave a small smile, motioning towards James who followed, bliss in his wake. They
made their way to the bedroom, James reaching over and flicking on the lamp, bathing the room in muted tones. He crept toward
Greg, moving to un-tuck his shirt.
“No,” Greg said. “I…let me do this for you.” Greg glanced away, amazed at his own words. James
needed this, yes, but Greg needed to be the one to give it to him. He needed to make James feel alive. James ran his finger
down his cheek, his jaw, letting his hand rest at Greg’s neck.
“Ok,” James smiled, removing his hands and letting them rest at his side. Greg bit his lip, smiling. He gingerly
unrolled James’ sleeves, pushing the garment onto the floor. His eyes roamed over James’ chest, appreciating the
strong elegance he exuded. His hands slithered down James’ sides, memorizing the dips and feel. He watched James’
eyelids flutter, mouth parting. James’ breath hitched and he slowly sat upon the bed, resting his head against Greg’s
hip. He hadn’t realized how tired he was. Physically, emotionally, it had just become too much. He let out a sigh. He
loved Greg, he trusted him implicitly. He knew Greg could fix him even if Greg could not do it for himself. He was content
to let himself go.
Greg sat down next to him, knowing what James was thinking, what he was feeling. He gathered him into his arms, nibbling up
James’ neck languorously, sucking here and there. His touch was reverent, James’ moans exquisite.
“Lie back, James,” Greg urged. Once he was comfortable, he latched onto a nipple, sensually pulling with his teeth,
James writhing. He made his way down, making lovebites here and there; marking him as Greg’s. James began to breathe
heavily, twitching and clawing at the sheets. Still, Greg continued.
Greg slowly unbuttoned James’ jeans, sliding them and his boxers off all at once. He smoothed over the juncture of hip
and thigh with his thumb, drawing a deep heady moan from above. Greg knew this body better than he knew his own. He knew exactly
how to drive James crazy. He lowered his mouth to the spot, pressing a loving kiss to James’ skin.
“Greg, I need you, please,” James panted, eyes wild. Greg pushed himself up and claimed James’ lips, pouring
all his love and emotion into the heated contact. He pulled off his own shirt and remaining clothing with a wince, his personal
pain a simple annoyance at this point. Greg leaned over, rummaging in the nightstand drawer and pulled out some oil. He leaned
back over James, cupping his cheek.
“I love you, Greg,” James said.
“I know,” he replied with a smile.
He applied the KY to himself deliberately, ignoring the contact. Slowly, painstakingly so, he pushed into James. He knew James
could handle it unprepared if he was slow and particularly gentle. Once he was fully inside his lover, he let out a breath.
“Are you ok?” he asked.
“I’m perfect.” James answered. Again Greg withdrew and again he entered him, moving so slowly it was almost
painful. The languid pace was sensual, constant. Eventually, however, the sensations became too overwhelming. James wrapped
his legs around Greg, his arms around his shoulders. Greg quickened the pace, his desire for release overcoming him. He leaned
over, sucking James’ earlobe as he steadily lost control. James shuddered, stilled, face contorted into a look of absolute
lust and pleasure. He came long and hard, Greg’s name on his lips. A few shallow thrusts and Greg was spent, collapsed
across James. Slowly he pulled out and gathered his lover to him. Blissful and content, James turned off the light and settled
in.
“I love you,” Greg murmured.
“I know,” James replied.
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