House fic: To Have Loved and Lost
Now revised!
Is it wrong that I wrote this on Valentine's Day?
*takes a deep breath, and clicks the post button*
Title: To Have Loved and Lost
Pairing: H/W with mentions of Wilson+wives
Rating: PG-13 for language and sex references
Word Count: 363
Warnings: Deathfic
Spoilers: None
Summary: Wilson has suffered a lot of loss in his life.
Thanks very much to daasgrrl for the beta :D
Arms around his waist, crossing at the chest, hand over his heart. Warm breath against his neck…
Wilson woke, knowing he was alone at 4:33 in the morning, always 4:33, body aching to feel another pressed against it. He tried to fall back asleep, but he knew it was useless. Instead, he closed his eyes. And remembered.
The first time. Angela, wife number one. It had been special. Full of warm whispered love, caring caresses. That had been how it had started. Then her urgent moans slowly turned into requests to hurry-early meetings at work the next day. Whispered excuses-I have a headache. And she had taken on a layer of ice, the touching causing pain before stopping altogether. His second and third times, Jessica and Julie, ended up with more of the same: a spark of passion that died long before it could grow to a full flame.
His fourth time...the pattern continued.
“House…”
“Shhh…not going to hurt you.”
Wilson had been on his side, back to the naked man lying next to him. Fingers traveling over his back, down to his buttocks, and back again.
Lost in the memory, Wilson shivered, as he had shivered then, feeling fingers slip into and move inside of him. He fisted his pillow and tried not to cry out.
It had hurt. A lot. Lies. But this was a different kind of hurt. The kind that had turned from moans of pain to groans of pleasure. A spark was formed. Passion ignited.
But the damn pattern went on. The reasons may have been different, but the outcome was the same.
Time grew shorter, urgent touches slowly fading before stopping altogether…
Headaches that came and went...
Wilson holding him as House’s pain became too much for either man to bear...
Ice in his chest when he realized his lover was gone, that his frantic touches would never be returned...
He curled up, wrapping his arms tightly around his pillow, trying not to choke on his sobs as he thought of the one relationship that might have lasted long enough for the flames to catch.
In the end, James Wilson would always end up alone.
Is it wrong that I wrote this on Valentine's Day?
*takes a deep breath, and clicks the post button*
Title: To Have Loved and Lost
Pairing: H/W with mentions of Wilson+wives
Rating: PG-13 for language and sex references
Word Count: 363
Warnings: Deathfic
Spoilers: None
Summary: Wilson has suffered a lot of loss in his life.
Thanks very much to daasgrrl for the beta :D
Arms around his waist, crossing at the chest, hand over his heart. Warm breath against his neck…
Wilson woke, knowing he was alone at 4:33 in the morning, always 4:33, body aching to feel another pressed against it. He tried to fall back asleep, but he knew it was useless. Instead, he closed his eyes. And remembered.
The first time. Angela, wife number one. It had been special. Full of warm whispered love, caring caresses. That had been how it had started. Then her urgent moans slowly turned into requests to hurry-early meetings at work the next day. Whispered excuses-I have a headache. And she had taken on a layer of ice, the touching causing pain before stopping altogether. His second and third times, Jessica and Julie, ended up with more of the same: a spark of passion that died long before it could grow to a full flame.
His fourth time...the pattern continued.
“House…”
“Shhh…not going to hurt you.”
Wilson had been on his side, back to the naked man lying next to him. Fingers traveling over his back, down to his buttocks, and back again.
Lost in the memory, Wilson shivered, as he had shivered then, feeling fingers slip into and move inside of him. He fisted his pillow and tried not to cry out.
It had hurt. A lot. Lies. But this was a different kind of hurt. The kind that had turned from moans of pain to groans of pleasure. A spark was formed. Passion ignited.
But the damn pattern went on. The reasons may have been different, but the outcome was the same.
Time grew shorter, urgent touches slowly fading before stopping altogether…
Headaches that came and went...
Wilson holding him as House’s pain became too much for either man to bear...
Ice in his chest when he realized his lover was gone, that his frantic touches would never be returned...
He curled up, wrapping his arms tightly around his pillow, trying not to choke on his sobs as he thought of the one relationship that might have lasted long enough for the flames to catch.
In the end, James Wilson would always end up alone.