First Kisses (2/13) for shenth "Unplanned"
ii. Unplanned
A/N: Prompt was: unplanned (word), restaurant (setting)
Given me by: shenth
Wilson felt all of about sixteen, awkward and rangy, all knees and elbows. He kept dropping his napkin, he had very nearly spilt his wine, and he felt fairly certain that he had given the entire waitstaff the impression that he had never been in a restaurant before in his life.
If it was any consolation, he had certainly never been to a restaurant under these circumstances. On a date, certainly, and with House, of course; with House, on a date? Never.
He wasn't sure if it would have been any less nerve-wracking with another man, or if it was all because of his strange relationship with House.
It had been spontaneous, the proposal of dinner, and completely unplanned, and maybe that was the hardest part for him, not being in charge of a relationship. He was always the planner, the one who asked women out on dates, and even a few men in his time. But this, this was completely beyond his ken.
He was being courted, and he had not the first clue as to how to act. It made him nervous, yes, but there was something so incredibly flattering and sexy about it all. At the ripe old age of 42, he found himself in a role that he had never played before.
He liked it.
House's grins, and his flirting voice (Wilson had only ever gotten the joking version, and he realized only now the subtle power of it), and his knowing looks, all together gave him a picture of House that he had never seen before, didn't even realize existed, not for him.
He flirted back, unfettered by gender roles and "what will he think of me". He already knew what House liked about him, and he could be just as outrageous and ostentatious in his flirting as he had always wanted to be.
He leaned close to House, as if to whisper something wicked, and instead, stole a kiss from the dragon himself.
Shockingly, the dragon only smiled, a slow, seductive smile that Wilson didn't think House's face was capable of making.
Then House's slim fingers were on the back of his neck, curling impulsively in his hair, and he barely registered the shocked stares around them.
He did spill his wine that time, but, House's tongue entwined with his, he found that he didn't much care.
Let them stare.
A/N: Prompt was: unplanned (word), restaurant (setting)
Given me by: shenth
Wilson felt all of about sixteen, awkward and rangy, all knees and elbows. He kept dropping his napkin, he had very nearly spilt his wine, and he felt fairly certain that he had given the entire waitstaff the impression that he had never been in a restaurant before in his life.
If it was any consolation, he had certainly never been to a restaurant under these circumstances. On a date, certainly, and with House, of course; with House, on a date? Never.
He wasn't sure if it would have been any less nerve-wracking with another man, or if it was all because of his strange relationship with House.
It had been spontaneous, the proposal of dinner, and completely unplanned, and maybe that was the hardest part for him, not being in charge of a relationship. He was always the planner, the one who asked women out on dates, and even a few men in his time. But this, this was completely beyond his ken.
He was being courted, and he had not the first clue as to how to act. It made him nervous, yes, but there was something so incredibly flattering and sexy about it all. At the ripe old age of 42, he found himself in a role that he had never played before.
He liked it.
House's grins, and his flirting voice (Wilson had only ever gotten the joking version, and he realized only now the subtle power of it), and his knowing looks, all together gave him a picture of House that he had never seen before, didn't even realize existed, not for him.
He flirted back, unfettered by gender roles and "what will he think of me". He already knew what House liked about him, and he could be just as outrageous and ostentatious in his flirting as he had always wanted to be.
He leaned close to House, as if to whisper something wicked, and instead, stole a kiss from the dragon himself.
Shockingly, the dragon only smiled, a slow, seductive smile that Wilson didn't think House's face was capable of making.
Then House's slim fingers were on the back of his neck, curling impulsively in his hair, and he barely registered the shocked stares around them.
He did spill his wine that time, but, House's tongue entwined with his, he found that he didn't much care.
Let them stare.