Wilson basked in the warmth of his lover's body against his as they rested. He was sitting up with his back propped against the headboard of the bed. House's head was lying on his upper belly with his ear pressed against Wilson's bare chest, over his heart, as if the sound soothed him. Wilson could feel the warmth of House's breath as it tickled his belly and the warmth of House's hand where it curled possessively around his ribcage. House was snuggled up close, fast asleep, his breathing deep and even. His whole body was pressed up against Wilson and his right leg was resting across Wilson's legs. It felt better elevated, especially after the workout they'd just had, though Wilson was always very consciously careful of his lover's injured leg.
Wilson's right hand was stroking House's graying chestnut curls, which House had grown out long again just because Wilson had asked him to. Every now and then, he dreamily let his hand wander down to House's scruffy cheek and neck, rubbing the stubbly beard and tracing the bullet scar on House's neck.
It always scared him to think of how close he had come to losing House forever that horrible day. They'd had to literally drag Wilson out of the ER as he fought them, trying madly to get to his lover. Of course, no one had known they were lovers then. Now, everyone knew, and Wilson was always sure to leave a mark or two on House's neck to "advertise", as he called it, that House was his and everyone else should keep their hands off.
There was also the gold band he'd lovingly placed on House's finger after making love one night soon after House had recovered enough from his wounds. House had seemed almost shy about the whole thing as if, even after all this time, he couldn't quite believe his "Jimmy" or anyone for that matter, really wanted him forever. But Wilson quickly disabused him of any fears he had by kissing him so deeply and so tenderly that they were soon making love all over again, their bodies heated up and breathless with desire. He soon had House moaning wildly, his head thrown back, exposing his throat to Wilson's tender bites and kisses. He cried out his Jimmy's name over and over.
Now, Wilson smiled dreamily as he remembered that night and lovingly stroked his older lover's hair and cheek. With a deep sigh, he twisted his body to face House's and slid back down beneath the covers with him, careful of House's leg and stopping his sleepy protests with soft, gentle kisses as he wrapped his arms around his lover's warm body. Relishing the feeling of his lover's flesh sliding against his, he pulled House close to himself as tightly as he could without fully waking him. House's head was soon nestled comfortably on Wilson's shoulder with Wilson's chin resting on top of House's tousled curls. Wilson closed his eyes and took another deep breath, inhaling the wonderful scent of House's hair as he let himself drift off to sleep, House securely in his protective arms, safe from bullets and abusive fathers and all the other assorted hurts he'd suffered in his painful life. Wilson was determined to make the rest of House's life just as beautiful and happy and pain-free as he possibly could.