Belong
Title: Belong
Pairing: House/Wilson, slash
Rating: R
Word Count: ~2200
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Zero. Zip. Nada.
I held him, threading my fingers through his short hair as he slept on since I knew that always made House feel better, and that made me feel better as well. His head rested on my shoulder, and I could smell the salt on his skin, the bourbon he had enjoyed earlier, the faint coppery smell of his blood as it pulsed through him; the taste of it was still on my tongue. The marks on his neck were fading. By morning it would be like they had never been there.
A glance at the clock told me I had to leave soon. A pang of regret roiled with the fresh blood, turning it sour for a split second. I could stay here on sofa with him for a hundred more hours, just watching him sleep. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to be with him. We were meant to be together. I was going to see to that.
But nothing was ever that easy.
I had scared him.
The last thing I ever wanted to do was scare House and yet I still did. And badly. The horror in his eyes when he turned around and saw me and what I had become…it would have been hilarious if it hadn’t been so real. His blue eyes wide with horror, stumbling backwards, his frenzied declarations that I wasn’t Wilson anymore, that I was a monster, well, I couldn’t have that. It was wrong. Then he turned and ran from me. At least he tried to run. That damned bum leg of his wouldn’t let him get very far. The scream he let out before I could clamp a hand onto his mouth still rang in my ears. And the struggling. He had flailing and thrashing, trying to get away from the monster I had become. I couldn’t have that, either. I couldn’t have him be terrified of me, not now, not ever. Our eyes met and he couldn’t look away because I wouldn’t let him. With him under my spell, so to speak, he would do whatever I told him without question. Gently, I told him that I wasn’t going to hurt him. I told House to calm down and he did. The fear drained away and was replaced with more than a little understandable confusion. I put my arm around him and led him to the sofa.
He sat there and listened as I told him everything--what I was, how it happened and why I had come back for him. He didn’t say a word, just nodded like this sort of thing happened every day and he understood completely. I told him how this wasn’t supposed to happen. I didn’t want him to be afraid of me. So he wasn’t coming with me, not just yet. Tomorrow night.
I leaned in and kissed him, tasting him, craving him. He belonged with me. He knew that. I knew that. I kissed my way down to his neck, feeling the heat roll off him in waves, hearing his blood pulse through his artery, so close, so close. My teeth sank into his neck before I could stop myself. The sweet, warm liquid flooded my mouth, poured down my throat. His gasp of shock and arousal sounded faint, far off, as his body went rigid. Just a taste, that was all I could have right now. I had to force myself to let go.
The sound of his gasping filled the room. He was dazed and giddy; he would have let me have every last drop. But I didn’t want that. I just wanted a taste and a connection. We now had a permanent connection and nothing would ever, ever break it.
I wasn’t going to drag him into this kicking and screaming, scared to death of becoming a “monster” like me. Cupping his face in my hands I told that any memory of being terrified of me was now gone. A nod from him. Licking the last of the crimson smears from my lips, I told him to go to sleep. And that’s just what my friend did.
Come morning House would wake up without a concern and stumble to the kitchen for his coffee as per usual. But I would remember. I would remember it all, every last detail, and that’s not how I wanted us to begin our new life together.
It was time to get going. I lay him back on the sofa, and find a pillow and blanket for him. He didn’t so much as flinch. He was dead to the world. I could set off a grenade in the room and he wouldn’t bat an eyelash. At least he would get a good night’s sleep.
I left.
~~~~
The last of the daylight was still clinging to the sky when I woke up. I couldn’t move just yet so I listened to his thoughts. House was watching television and trying to let his mind go blank and far off. His leg was bothering him. He was rubbing his thigh--I could hear and feel the soft scraping of the denim beneath his palm--and washing down a couple of Vicodin with some bourbon. Too much pain. Too many Vicodin. That was all going to change very soon.
House?
I heard the glass of bourbon shatter on the floor. No need to ask if he heard me.
The sun will be down in a few minutes. I’ll be there soon.
His response was almost immediate: I’ll be waiting.
It was the longest few minutes I ever experienced.
~~~~
He answered the door before I finished knocking, as if he had been standing there, listening for me. He was wearing my McGill sweatshirt. I smiled at that, then at him. No sign of fear in his eyes, just nervousness. Perfectly understandable. I stepped inside.
House closed and locked the door, then stood with his back against it, watching me, waiting for me. Waiting for me to make the first move. I liked that. Anticipation now mixed with his nervousness; he was nearly panting, his pupils were blown, the size of dimes. Well, who was I to keep him waiting?
Two steps and I was toe-to-toe with him, my mouth crushed over his mouth, the faint taste bourbon still lingering there along with the deep, rich taste of House. His hands tearing at the buttons of my shirt--one or two clattered on the floor--then swarmed up my back. His skin, his heat, it was intoxicating. House was my drug, my addiction, what I craved the most. I could never get enough.
He broke away, breathless. The sight of his face now burning red with lust, his mouth swollen from my kisses, my sweatshirt clinging to his sweaty skin…it was almost too much. It took every last ounce of self control to hold myself back. This was something worth taking my sweet time, something to savor. Sure, I could take the quick and dirty way and suck the life out of him right there against the front door, but where was the fun in that? Both of us deserved better.
I took his hand and led him to the bedroom, peppering his face with soft kisses along the way.
He slowed down as well and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me to him. For a while we simply stood by the bed and held each other. I loved the feeling of it, the closeness. I could feel each warm puff of his breath against my neck, could feel House revel in the intimacy he craved but so rarely found. House’s actions may have slowed down but his thoughts were like a tornado barreling down a highway: Don’t you dare leave you can’t leave me don’t want to be alone I love you stay here stay with me forever please don’t go…
I came back for you, House. You will never be alone again.
His arms wrapped tighter. I heard what could only be called a muffled cry of relief come from him.
Gently, I pushed him back until he was sitting on the bed. I took the hem of the McGill sweatshirt and began to pull. Without a word he raised his arms and let me peel it off him. Shedding his old life, preparing for the new one he was ready to start. He climbed on the bed and sank back into the pillows, quietly watching as a undid the last few buttons he hadn’t torn off and shrugged out of my own shirt. I crawled on top of him, planting kisses along his belly, his chest. Feeling him shudder beneath me, because of me, surrendering to me, it was exquisite. I swung a leg over his hips, straddling him, looking down at him. So beautiful. The word beautiful couldn’t even begin to describe him as he lay underneath me. His bright blue eyes never looked away. No trace of fear left in them; they were full of anticipation, full of lust, love, awe, impatience, carnality. His erection pressed into me.
I leaned and brushed my lips over his. His affection for me, his lust, his love; I wasn’t making him do any of it. This was of his own free will. He was laid bare in every sense of the word and letting me take in every last detail. Letting me see him vulnerable. Dropping his mask. No wonder I wanted to savor this, and I did, just as I savored of his kisses as I committed the taste and texture of him to memory, the sound of his moans as I ground my crotch into his as his legs wrapped around me like a vine, listening to him murmur my name.
It couldn’t last. Nothing this good ever does. My kisses found their way down to his neck. His blood just underneath the skin. I could smell it, could see his pulse. The marks from last night had faded, and they would again. It was time to do what I came here for.
The pain was something I couldn’t help as my teeth tore into his artery and didn’t let go. The pang of regret as I heard him cry out was gone in a heartbeat as his life poured down my throat. It was everything, it was too much, it wasn’t enough, it was mine. House was mine. He belonged to me. He struggled but couldn’t break free even if he wanted to and if I let him. His instinctive efforts to get away grew weaker and weaker with each mouthful I took. Then his arms fell away onto the soft blankets beneath us.
His face was chalk white, eyes half-open and dull. Crimson dripped from my chin and dribbled along his chest. With my sharp nails I ripped open my own throat, feeling the very thing I had just drained from him flow free. I pressed House up against my open wound and urged him to drink.
At first he didn’t, and I was terrified that I had taken too much, that he was gone beyond my reach. Then his lips moved, his tongue was lapping it up, and he was drinking, swallowing each mouthful like a man starved. I held him there, letting him relish each drop; the sweet, rich liquid that couldn’t be found in any bottle.
Enough. I had to wrench him away. His chin and mouth were dripping with it, his blood, my blood, our blood. He looked around the room, then at me, as if seeing it all for the first time. There was a new fire in his eyes, a roaring blaze that could reduce the whole city to ashes.
I brushed my thumb along his scruffy cheek. He leaned into my touch and sighed.
You know why I came back for you, House.
I know why you came back. He laughed softly, his sharp teeth glinting against the faint amber glow from the street. I know.
--The End