Wilson peeked at the alarm clock beside the bed. It was far too early to get up and start breakfast. He turned over and saw House sprawled out on his side of the bed. It was very warm and he had kicked off the sheets, naked as the day he was born. Wilson took a few moments to take in the sight he would never get enough of. He loved to look at House, especially like this, although House was far to self-conscious to let him do so without a sarcastic remark or two, so he propped himself up on one elbow and looks.

He resists the urge to run his fingers through House's somewhat thinning hair, loving how the ends would curl slightly. Remembering looking up at House braced above him, inside of him, and how when sweat soaked they curl tighter and plaster themselves to his head. He felt himself harden a little at the thought, but didn't focus on it, not yet. He risked running the back of his fingers down House's bristly jaw, smiling slightly when House turned towards the gentle touch, but didn't wake. Lines visible around his eyes and forehead hadn't disappeared with the night's rest, but they weren't as deep, or furrowed in a combination of concentration and pain. His eyes slid down over House's throat, grinning wickedly at the mark he left at the juncture of House's neck and shoulder, remembering how that had made House shudder and arch against him. Through extreme willpower he didn't lean down to trace the small bruise with his tongue.

His eyes swept over House's chest and arms, muscular for a man of his age, the right side even more so. He placed his hand lightly over House's heart, feeling the beat for a few seconds, refusing to entertain thoughts of how often it had stopped or nearly stopped, refusing to think of how fragile House really was despite the muscles, despite the strength of his will. He let his fingers brush House's nipples lightly, moving on to better thoughts as he saw them harden. He looked lower, glancing briefly at the still soft part of House's anatomy that the planned on returning to very soon.

He sighed quietly as he took in the deep gouge on House's right thigh. The scar tissue there was still angry and dark looking. It was still a source of shame to House, even after they had become intimate it was months before House would willingly walk about in shorts, or lay about after sex without tugging his boxers or sweats back over his leg, even still it wasn't anything House tolerated Wilson looking at, no matter how briefly, or touching. Wilson wished there was someway, something he could do to make House less self conscious about it, but he wasn't naïve enough to think he could kiss and make all or any of House's wounds better. The best he could hope for was that he could make things more tolerable. He wonders if he could have resisted making the choice Stacy did and then is selfishly glad he didn't have to and offered a prayer that he never would be placed in that situation. He loved House deeply. Did he love him enough to let him go? Wilson found himself frowning and tried to shake it off, this wasn't a morning for melancholy what ifs. He called himself all kinds of idiot and foolish, but he leaned down and placed a light kiss on the worst of the scar tissue before letting his fingers run up the opposite, heavily muscled left thigh.

When his fingers slid upwards and started caress House's sac, House moaned and instinctively spread his legs. Wilson's gaze darted up, nervous, but found House still sound asleep. Wilson lifted up and shifted position so he was kneeling between House's legs, forearms braced against the bed close to House's hips. He ducked his head down and placed a soft kiss just below House's navel, letting the tip of his tongue trace a trail down as he slid further down, licking a line down House's cock, still soft, but twitching in response, circling the tip before taking him completely in his mouth. It was a guilty pleasure of Wilson's to be able to this, to be able to feel House grow in his mouth. He brought one hand to hold House's hip down and the other to trace patterns on House's balls, letting them further back to play gently but firmly on the nerve ending rich patch of skin.

It didn't take long for Wilson to have to slide back a bit, so he could focus his attention on lapping and sucking at the most sensitive areas of House's cock. He groaned as he felt House's hands slide through his hair, gripping slightly but not forcing him, almost patting Wilson to encourage him. It wasn't that House was usually rough, but there was an uncommon tenderness in the way he held Wilson's head in his palms. Wilson thought that maybe he was still asleep, but when House groaned 'oh fuck Wilson' in a voice that was far to coherent for him to be asleep and to Wilson's ears, far too coherent for what he was currently doing to him, Wilson decided to redouble his efforts. Sucking just a bit harder, and then letting the tip of his tongue rub against that spot just under the ridge of his tip, alternating between the actions and letting a moistened finger slip inside House.

After a few moments of this House bucked up and spilled himself inside of Wilson's mouth. Wilson pulled back a bit to swallow what he was given and then kept lapping at him until House couldn't take it anymore and pulled Wilson up to lay beside him, wrapping one arm around him, cradling him to his chest. He reached over with his other arm to wrap his hand around Wilson's cock. The position was awkward for the both of them, but Wilson was so worked up it didn't take long until he was as sated as House was.

They lay quietly for a few more minutes. Wilson knew the silence was too good to last. 'You know, since you have probably been awake for the past half hour, and saw fit to molest me with your eyes and mouth, you should be the one to get up and clean up the mess you made.' House observed quietly, but his words lacked their usual sarcastic malice.