Ficlet : Every Time
Feb. 28th, 2014 10:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
menolly_auTitle: Every Time
Characters: House/Wilson
Rating: PG-13
Words: 700
Warnings: Choose Not to Warn - but no character death.
Summary: With Wilson's time running out House has a decision to make.
Wilson's Health Status He's sick, but he doesn't die.
Author's Notes: Yet another post-finale scenario although this one isn't very likely. Also answering a weekly prompt from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hw_prompts but saying which one would be a spoiler :)
"When the cancer starts getting really bad…" Wilson says.
House smiles and puts on his helmet and glasses.
"Cancer's boring."
This will be the last night, House thinks. Wilson is getting sicker. His movements are a touch slow and he tires easily. He tries to hide the persistent cough but it's always there, just under the surface - ready to awaken. House knows the signs by now. There’s not much time left.
He lies pressed against Wilson’s naked body, idly running his hands through the unruly hair. He breathes in the scent of him, the feel of him. He’ll miss this. He’ll miss being with him. Until he can be again.
Wilson stirs underneath his hands, awakening from slumber. He turns, still half asleep, and moves closer.
House drops a kiss onto his forehead and Wilson smiles. His eyes open lazily and House feels a pang of regret at the look in those eyes. Maybe he can stay one more day.
"Never thought I'd see the day when Gregory House snuggled me in bed," Wilson says.
"Never thought I'd see the day when James Wilson admitted to being hot for my body." It’s a weak retort because Wilson is looking at him like that. Like he knows everything House is thinking. Like House is the only thing in the world that matters to him.
Wilson smiles that lazy smile again and his hand moves between them, coming to rest at House's groin. A wave of warmth floods through House at his touch. He groans and presses himself into Wilson's hand.
He starts to say something but Wilson moves closer and captures his mouth in a kiss that drives all conscious thought from House's brain.
"I wish... “Wilson says when they finally break apart, and House knows what he means because Wilson always says this. He wishes that the five months weren't draining away. He wishes that they'd been lovers for as long as they'd been friends. He wishes that they had more time.
It's dawn of the next morning when he leaves the cabin. He lights a forbidden cigarette, shivers in the cool air and takes in the coming day. A day he won't see.
In his hand he holds his most precious possession. A gold pocket watch, its cover discoloured with age. A find in one of those odd-ball antique shops that Wilson liked to frequent.
It had been four months into Wilson's illness and there hadn't been long left. He could track Wilson's progress through the shop by the sound of his coughing. Feeling desperate to get away for a moment he'd stepped outside, on the pretence of having a smoke.
The owner had followed him out and pressed the watch on him - her eyes intent with something House couldn't name.
"It will give you what you need," she'd said, looking back into the store where Wilson was. "What you both need. Enough time. Just believe." She’d pressed his hand over the watch and then she’d gone. He’d stared down at the watch and known what he had to do.
He opens the cover of the watch and stares into the old mechanism, the hands are ticking away the seconds. He glances back at the cabin, where Wilson still sleeps. He'll lose him, and then find him again. Over and over. Time will never run out for them.
He closes his eyes and pictures where he wants to go, when he wants to go. Always the same destination.
When he opens his eyes again the cabin is gone, the woods it had rested in are gone. He's getting onto his bike, with Wilson beside him. They're on a bridge, over a river, in the middle of a long road that curves through the trees – stretching forward and back as far as he can see.
"When the cancer starts getting really bad…" Wilson says, as he always does.
House smiles and puts on his helmet and glasses.
"Cancer's boring."
He rides off, knowing that Wilson will follow. Their journey will be different this time, but House knows that soon he'll have Wilson again. He always does.
They have all the time they need.
Characters: House/Wilson
Rating: PG-13
Words: 700
Warnings: Choose Not to Warn - but no character death.
Summary: With Wilson's time running out House has a decision to make.
Wilson's Health Status He's sick, but he doesn't die.
Author's Notes: Yet another post-finale scenario although this one isn't very likely. Also answering a weekly prompt from
hw_prompts but saying which one would be a spoiler :)"When the cancer starts getting really bad…" Wilson says.
House smiles and puts on his helmet and glasses.
"Cancer's boring."
This will be the last night, House thinks. Wilson is getting sicker. His movements are a touch slow and he tires easily. He tries to hide the persistent cough but it's always there, just under the surface - ready to awaken. House knows the signs by now. There’s not much time left.
He lies pressed against Wilson’s naked body, idly running his hands through the unruly hair. He breathes in the scent of him, the feel of him. He’ll miss this. He’ll miss being with him. Until he can be again.
Wilson stirs underneath his hands, awakening from slumber. He turns, still half asleep, and moves closer.
House drops a kiss onto his forehead and Wilson smiles. His eyes open lazily and House feels a pang of regret at the look in those eyes. Maybe he can stay one more day.
"Never thought I'd see the day when Gregory House snuggled me in bed," Wilson says.
"Never thought I'd see the day when James Wilson admitted to being hot for my body." It’s a weak retort because Wilson is looking at him like that. Like he knows everything House is thinking. Like House is the only thing in the world that matters to him.
Wilson smiles that lazy smile again and his hand moves between them, coming to rest at House's groin. A wave of warmth floods through House at his touch. He groans and presses himself into Wilson's hand.
He starts to say something but Wilson moves closer and captures his mouth in a kiss that drives all conscious thought from House's brain.
"I wish... “Wilson says when they finally break apart, and House knows what he means because Wilson always says this. He wishes that the five months weren't draining away. He wishes that they'd been lovers for as long as they'd been friends. He wishes that they had more time.
It's dawn of the next morning when he leaves the cabin. He lights a forbidden cigarette, shivers in the cool air and takes in the coming day. A day he won't see.
In his hand he holds his most precious possession. A gold pocket watch, its cover discoloured with age. A find in one of those odd-ball antique shops that Wilson liked to frequent.
It had been four months into Wilson's illness and there hadn't been long left. He could track Wilson's progress through the shop by the sound of his coughing. Feeling desperate to get away for a moment he'd stepped outside, on the pretence of having a smoke.
The owner had followed him out and pressed the watch on him - her eyes intent with something House couldn't name.
"It will give you what you need," she'd said, looking back into the store where Wilson was. "What you both need. Enough time. Just believe." She’d pressed his hand over the watch and then she’d gone. He’d stared down at the watch and known what he had to do.
He opens the cover of the watch and stares into the old mechanism, the hands are ticking away the seconds. He glances back at the cabin, where Wilson still sleeps. He'll lose him, and then find him again. Over and over. Time will never run out for them.
He closes his eyes and pictures where he wants to go, when he wants to go. Always the same destination.
When he opens his eyes again the cabin is gone, the woods it had rested in are gone. He's getting onto his bike, with Wilson beside him. They're on a bridge, over a river, in the middle of a long road that curves through the trees – stretching forward and back as far as he can see.
"When the cancer starts getting really bad…" Wilson says, as he always does.
House smiles and puts on his helmet and glasses.
"Cancer's boring."
He rides off, knowing that Wilson will follow. Their journey will be different this time, but House knows that soon he'll have Wilson again. He always does.
They have all the time they need.
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no subject
Date: 2014-04-14 06:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-15 11:31 am (UTC)