Thinking About The Clinic Patient Who Kept Visiting Her Ex Husband In Her Sleep And Having Sex With Him.

thinking about the clinic patient who kept visiting her ex husband in her sleep and having sex with him. thinking about sexsomnia in the hilson dynamic while they’re living together after julie

if it was house: wilson wouldn’t know, obviously. but he’s nursing a divorce and would assume it’s some kind of cruel joke. he wouldn’t let him in the first time. the second time he would probably get angry, assuming he’s definitely drunk and/or being an asshole on purpose. both times he wouldn’t ask about it in the morning. the third time around, he would let him in. he would think oh well if it’s happened this many times he must be serious. and he would convince himself it’s not gay because it’s just a guy helping out his bro. he’s not sure which way the help goes. regardless, they “have sex”. it’s lazy frotting and grinding, no kissing (house tries, but wilson doesn’t let him), no penetration. further evidence for wilson to suggest to his mind that it wasn’t gay. in the morning he asks about it. and house has no idea what he’s talking about. and now they’re both freaking out because they think something is wrong with one of them, or it’s some elaborate prank. the fourth time, wilson stops him at the door again. he does like a full drug/alcohol check before letting him in. but he lets him in. and wilson bites his neck to make sure it’s real. in the morning, wilson sees house and goes “aha! it is real! look!” and house sees the mark on his neck and is absolutely mortified because he immediately recognizes that he’s been having sleepsomnia episodes. he apologizes softly and leaves the apartment, not even pausing to think that maybe if wilson was letting him in, that meant he actually did want it. now wilson is confused and frustrated. angst ensues.

if it was wilson: house would give him that wide-eyed puppy dog “seriously?” expecting the bone to be yanked away from him. but wilson would sidle into bed with him and nuzzle his nose into house’s neck. he would be sickeningly sweet, kissing his face and touching him gently. house would welcome it, and he would cum in his pants. he wouldn’t mention it EVER. it would just keep happening. eventually house would figure out what was going on. he would start flinching at wilson’s touch during the day. he would lock his door at night. he would cry and shiver and jerk off, thinking about how none of it was really real. and he would try to set wilson up with women so he would stop trying to get into his room. not that he doesn’t want to have sex, but it hurts too much. the realization that they are both using each other and wilson doesn’t even know. and of course the urge to just keep letting it happen tugs at him. and of course he doesn’t shut it down the first couple times. but at some point it becomes too much like living in a dream. he’s so disconnected from waking reality, he can’t let it continue. his mind is too scrambled to think that maybe there’s a reason wilson keeps going to his room. the fact that he is the desired one, not just the subconscious mind’s need for sexual contact, doesn’t even cross his mind. angst ensues.