“Wi-i-i-i-ilson!” a voice sing-songed all of two inches from his ear.
Wilson grunted and turned his back to the very large, very prickly annoyance in bed with him.
“Hey, Wilson.” Several sharp jabs struck him in the back of the shoulder. “Wake up. I’m horny.”
“Mmm-gnngh!” Wilson retorted in protest and pulled one pillow over his head. There was blissful silence for a few seconds, in which Wilson almost fell asleep, and then:
“Oh, James…” Warm fingers slid down his spine, caught the hem of his boxer shorts, and tried to pull down. Luckily, Wilson’s hip pressing into the mattress stopped their descent after a few inches.
“G’way,” Wilson grumbled.
“Hey, Jimmy.” House was starting to sound annoyed. Not that that was an unusual state or anything. “Jimmy-boy!” The jab to his shoulder this time was almost hard enough to knock him right off the edge of the bed. “Wake up!”
“Lemmee ‘lone!” Wilson struck out blindly with the pillow and was fairly confident that he’d at least clipped House in the chest.
“No,” House sulked.
“Yes.” Wilson reluctantly blinked his eyes open and checked the bedside clock. That was enough to jerk him awake. “I—! What? House, it’s three o’clock in the fucking morning!” He turned back to offer his best glare.
“You’re up, then?” House retorted cheekily. “Great. Let’s fuck.” His hand went for the waistband of Wilson’s boxers again.
Wilson batted the hand away. “You woke me up at three in the morning to get laid?”
House pretended to consider that for a moment. “Can you think of a better reason for me to wake you up?” This time his hands were more persistent in their attempts to shimmy Wilson’s shorts ever lower, despite interference on the parts of the bed, the bedding, and Wilson.
“Hmm,” Wilson put on a thoughtful expression, “yeah. If you’re having a fatal heart attack in your sleep, then you can wake me up. Christ, House, you know I have a meeting at seven-thirty!”
“Which means we won’t get to fuck before you run off to work this morning,” House retorted logically. “Hence, why we should fuck now.”
Wilson groaned and collapsed back against the pillows. “You’re unbelievable,” he rubbed at his face with one hand.
“No, you’re supposed to wait until we’re actually having sex to say that,” House corrected him.
“I hate you,” Wilson decided.
“Great. Pants off!” House made a frustrated shooing gesture.
Wilson groaned. “If I blow you, will you let me go back to sleep?”
It was dark, but he could see enough of House’s face to know that House was wearing his “you’re a complete moron” expression – the one he usually reserved for clinic patients with the common cold. “Well, duh!”
“Fine,” Wilson grumbled. “Roll over, and take off your pants.”
“That’s it?” House pouted even as he did what Wilson asked. “No hearts? No flowers?”
“I refuse to do romance at three in the morning,” Wilson retorted.
“So I should wake you up again at four, then?”
There was always that critical point with House where one could choose to continue the pointless and insane argument forever or one could just cave in and do what House wanted. Given that Wilson really needed the sleep, he went for the latter option this time.
“I don’t know why I put up with you,” Wilson grumbled and then wrapped his lips around House’s dick before he could retort.
House let out a little yelp of surprise and then sighed and fell back against the bed, his hips rocking in slow time with the movement of Wilson’s mouth. “If you think you’re going to distract me from getting in the last word, you have a sadly steep learning curve…”
Wilson didn’t dignify that with a response. House didn’t exactly have the most stamina these days, so if Wilson could get him to come hard and fast, House should fall asleep on the spot. It was somewhat frightening how quickly he’d learned to anticipate and manipulate House’s sexual quirks along with the rest of his insane personality.
“I know what you’re doing,” House accused, his breath hitching in his throat as Wilson sped up the motion of his mouth, his hand fisting around the base of House’s cock to generate friction along its entire length. It was way too early in the morning to try deep-throating. “It’s not going to work.”
Wilson tried to retort with “Oh, no?” but it came out more like “Mmpf, mmau?” The sentiment remained intact, however.
“Just because all the nurses have told you that you’re God’s gift to – oh, fuck!”
Wilson couldn’t help but grin up at House in triumph, before repeating the roll of his tongue.
House’s fist pounded against the mattress a few times before his eyes shot open again, and he got himself under control. “Bastard,” he glared down at Wilson, thrusting shallowly once more.
Obviously, it was time to bring out the big guns. Wilson picked up the slurping because, for some bizarre reason that he’d never be able to fathom, the sound turned House on. Frankly, Wilson thought House was a little bit out of his mind, but then he’d always thought that, and he put up with House anyway. Strange concessions in the bedroom weren’t much of a sacrifice at all after some of the things he’d done for House.
The second advantage to this plan was that it gave him more moisture to work with. House hissed as Wilson worked him faster and rougher, and House managed to pull himself together long enough for one good glare of death before he completely lost it.
Wilson pulled back just in time. Morning breath tasted bad enough without sex breath on top of it.
“Wimp,” House mumbled, still grinning blissfully.
“Asshole,” Wilson replied.
House just grunted, reached over blindly until he found a pair of Wilson’s old sweatpants on the floor beside the bed, and used them to wipe himself clean. Wilson seriously debated getting pissed off, but then that was probably what House wanted.
True to Wilson’s suspicions, one of House’s eyes peeked open hopefully, looking for a reaction.
“Whatever,” Wilson grunted, rolled over so that his back was to House, and tried to go back to sleep.
“You don’t want me to return the favor?” House’s voice was sounding drowsy. That was either the best or worst thing about sex at their age: It was a sure K.O.
“You can give me a rain check.”
House mumbled, and all too soon Wilson could hear his breathing even out into the regular rhythms of sleep.
Which was just as well, because if House were awake, he would probably figure out Wilson’s evil revenge plot was to cash that rain check at six o’clock in the morning some night when House hadn’t gotten to bed until one.
Smiling the smile of the happily wicked, Wilson buried his face in his pillow and went back to sleep.