(no subject)
You inch toward him, trying to calculate the best angle for attack. He fidgets a little, as if sensing you are up to something. But you are always up to something.
You take a breath, then lean against him, hooking a hand behind his head and pulling his lips to yours. He does nothing for nearly a minute and you freely explore his mouth, gradually getting more daring. It takes until your tongue touches his before he pushes you away.
Wilson's cheeks are flushed and he is looking at you as if you had just given him the shock of his life. Well, you probably have. He swallows once, twice, not meeting your eyes. "What the hell was that?" he finally asks.
"I think I've had too much to drink," you mumble as an excuse, feeling woozy, but knowing it has nothing to do with the booze. You lean your head back and stare up at the ceiling.
"I agree. Your breath is like 100% proof." He reaches over and lightly smacks your arm before standing. "If that's how you are going to react to a western, I'd hate to stick around until you see a Hallmark commercial."
Bad jokes. You have definitely rattled him.
"See you tomorrow, House."
You respond by grabbing Wilson's half-empty bottle of beer from the coffee table and saluting him with it.
"That went well," you tell yourself as the door clicks closed. You return the beer to the table and sigh.
The End
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