Chapter Text
It was dark and House wasn’t sure what time it was. He was laying down in bed awake, facing the ceiling. There was barely any light coming through the window but the little light from the streetlights illuminated the figure of a man on top of him. As the man leaned down, closing the space between them, House got a better look at him when the light reflected off of his deep brown eyes and sleek brown hair as he pressed their lips together.
“Wilson?” House breathed, voice raspy with shock, into the other man’s mouth. He could feel Wilson’s body press against his as a familiar heat built up in his stomach. His lips moved from House’s lips, over to his neck.
“House…” Wilson answered softly. House felt his warm breath on his neck, giving him goosebumps. House’s hips buckled, pressing himself up to meet Wilson’s as he lifted his arm to grab a handful of his brown hair and urge his head forward to press their lips together once more. The passion between them grew as they exchanged messy kisses and rubbed their bodies together, House feeling as if he couldn’t get close enough, needing more, needing to feel Wilson’s body close against his. The familiar heat in his stomach grew with each second of passion exchanged between them, and he rubbed against Wilson with more desperation, wrapping his legs around his hips to keep him close to him.
“W-Wilson…” he panted into the other man’s ear as he felt himself reach climax. He squeezed his legs around Wilson’s hips harder as he felt a wet spot form between them, panting hard at the feeling of release. Wilson pulled away and looked into House’s eyes, caressing his face gently and planting a kiss sweetly on his lips, while a quiet beeping sounded in the background.
House suddenly woke up, disoriented, to the sound of his alarm clock going off. It read 7:00 am. He started to lift the blankets off him to get up and get dressed for work when he noticed a spot on the sheet that was wet. He investigated it further and noticed a familiar sticky substance covering his stomach and groin. Wilson’s face looming over him flashed back into his memory as he remembered the content of his dream and his face flushed bright red.
“What was that about?” He wondered out loud to himself, embarrassed at the fact that he just came harder than he had in a long time while dreaming about Wilson of all people, and would now have to face him at work with that erotic image of his face still in his head, remembering the feeling of his warm body against his own. He gulped while thinking about it, making a mental note to avoid him as much as possible while he figured out what this dream was supposed to mean. The past two dreams he had meant something, the last one even helped him solve a case. So there had to be a reason why he dreamt of his friend in such a compromising manner, right? He decided to stop thinking about it so hard and hope that Cuddy had a particularly difficult case that could distract him from whatever this was.