The Art Of Proctology

"There's something very wrong about this situation," House said in a surly voice. He was lying on his front, his cheek mashed into the pillow as he stared across at the books stacked messily on his bedside table.

Wilson let out an exasperated sigh, shifting his weight on his hands above House. He was naked, hard, had the condom on his penis, he was nervous about what they were about to do, and House was making this as unenjoyable as possible by expressing resentment every step of the way. He'd even groused throughout the hand job Wilson had given him to get him in the mood. "Will you stop complaining?"

"I'm not complaining. I'm stating."

"Will you stop stating, then," Wilson replied impatiently.


"Because you're making me nervous!"

House lifted his head from the pillow and craned his neck to peer at Wilson. "You're about to stick your dick up my ass for the first time ever, and you're telling me you're nervous?"

"Well, of course I'm nervous!" Wilson retorted. "I've never done this before!"

"Neither have I!"

Wilson shot him a long suffering look. "Your whining isn't making this any easier."

"You're about to violate my ass; I have a right to voice displeasure."

"I'm not about to violate anything!" Wilson exclaimed.

"I have a very strong feeling this is going to hurt, which instantly renders it violation in my books."

Wilson sighed in annoyance. He leaned over so House could see him better in his peripheral vision. "You don't want to do this, we don't have to."

House craned his head a little more. "This was your idea."

"You agreed to it!"

"I'm having second thoughts."

Right, he wasn't going to put up with this. Wilson started to back himself away from House with his hands.

"Where're you going?"

"To watch TV," Wilson replied, getting to his knees. "To read a book. To do the dishes. To whack off in the bathroom. Anything to get away from you and your chronic bitching."

"I'm not bitching."

"Oh, yes you are."

"You wanted to do this, didn't you?"

"You evidently don't," Wilson snapped. He started to shuffle back on his knees with the intention of getting off the bed. He was going to pull his sweatpants back on, go out to the living room to watch some TV and forget about this whole idea of wanting to be on top for once. He should've expected that House would ruin what Wilson hoped would be a nice thing between them.

"Aww, come on," House relented. Wilson felt the bed dip a little as House half-rolled onto his side, causing Wilson to prop his hand on the mattress for balance as he scooted back, and just as he was about to dismount the bed he felt House's hand snatch his wrist. "Come on," House coaxed in a reluctant tone. "Stop being such a woman."

Wilson gave him an unimpressed look and tried to wring his wrist free from House's grasp. His other hand was peeling the condom off his now almost-flaccid penis. "Only women bitch the way you are right now. I think that qualifies you more of a woman than me."

"You're the one getting huffy here."

He dropped the condom to the bed. "I got nothing on your gift of huffing, House. Let me go."

House pulled on his wrist. "No."



Wilson tried one more time to wrench his wrist free and then surrendered, begrudgingly allowing House to pull him back towards him. "I wish you'd make up your mind."

"I am making up my mind," House replied as he shifted a little more onto his back.

"What happened to having second thoughts?"

"I'm having second thoughts about the second thoughts."

Wilson snorted as he stretched over House's body. "Right. Shall I start timing how long it'll be before you start having second thoughts about those second thoughts you've had second thoughts about?"

House gave him an annoyed look as he let Wilson's wrist go and reached up to grasp the back of Wilson's neck. "Shut up."

"I say the same thing to you and you never listen, so why should I indulge you?"

"I'll start complaining again."

That was a good enough reason for Wilson, for the moment. He pushed aside his aggravation as he let himself be pulled down and settled his hips between House's thighs with a disinterested kiss to House's mouth. He'd felt a lot more into this before he'd opened his mouth and said he wanted to make love to House for a change. He'd stupidly used the term 'make love', too, and got steadily more and more annoyed at every jibe House poked at him as a result. Not only did he feel annoyed but House's taunts made him feel insecure about himself and what he wanted to do. Being with House came with no end of jokes and remarks made at his expense, so he should've been used to it -- but making love to House was something he'd always wanted to do and he'd always envisioned that it would be a lot more meaningful, if not romantic than what House was turning this into.

Feeling House's fingers threading through his hair as House attempted to engage him in a deeper kiss, Wilson closed his eyes and made himself focus on the sensation of House's tongue touching his and House's erection between their bodies in order to regain his interest, and soon he began to return the kiss as deeply as House was kissing him. Like always, House's bristles were distracting and not necessarily in a good way -- it chafed and irritated his skin, and not for the first time Wilson felt like commenting to House that it was about damn time he shaved the damn facial hair off. Complaining would only spark off a round of complaints from House, however, so he focused his discomfort away from himself by pressing his body down against House's. He heard House sound a quiet groan when Wilson rocked his hips forward, and it was wasn't long before they were both breathing heavily.

"Roll over," Wilson said, breaking the kiss enough to murmur against House's mouth.

"Get off me first." Wilson did as he was told; lying to House's left as House struggled to get himself onto his front, and once he was settled Wilson leaned in to press a kiss to his shoulder. "I'm not so much about making love as I am about getting on with it."

"House," Wilson groaned in protest. He knew that wasn't going to last long.


"Don't start."

House huffed, though said nothing more. Wilson pressed a few tentative kisses to his shoulder, then a few slower, deeper ones against his neck while he slid his hand onto House's ass. He shifted up closer so his penis was pressed against House's hip, and he rubbed himself gently while he explored House with his lips and his hand -- the pleasure of paying House this much attention was something Wilson found intoxicating, and he found himself wishing House would be more accepting of it, and not just because he was lazy in bed just like he was lazy with everything else in life. Wilson groaned in quiet appreciation as he slipped his hand between House's legs to tease his balls and--

"You know, it would've been way hotter if you'd demanded to fuck me," House interrupted.

The suddenness of House's comment startled Wilson and he pulled back with an exclaimed, "Jesus!" before shooting House a look of annoyance. "This would be 'way hotter' if you shut up for once in your life."

"Communication is a vital tool for couples having pleasurable sex."

"Pleasurable," Wilson echoed dryly. "You're making this about as pleasurable as an uninspired wank."

"Please," House scoffed. "I am very inspiring."

"No. You're not."

"I am," House argued. "That boner you have drilling holes into my hip is inspired because of me."

"You keep this up, you'll be responsible for my boner's imminent death."

"What, and then no 'making love'?"

"Will you shut up about that already?"

House snorted. "Never."

"I suspected as much," Wilson sharply replied. He was starting to get annoyed again. Instead of giving up, tempting as that sounded, Wilson leaned in and bit House's shoulder firmly.

"Owww!" House lifted his head from the pillow and scowled down at Wilson. "What the hell was that for?"

"You're pissing me off." House opened his mouth to speak but before he could, Wilson cut in, "The lube. Give it to me."

"I'm totally not letting you bone me if teeth are going to be involved."

"Teeth are only going to be involved as long as you continue being a prick."

"I could end up with a lot of bite marks, then."

"Yes, I know," Wilson evenly replied. "Which is why I want the lube now. Either that, or I'm giving up."

"You could get it yourself," House retorted.

"Just give it to me!"

He ignored the irritated look House gave him and snatched the lube from House's hand when it was handed to him. Pushing himself up to a sitting position, he snapped the lid open while House grabbed the spare pillow and started to shove it under his hips. "You know, if you weren't so insistent on this 'making love to me' business, I totally would've gotten laid by now."

"That's because you make a crappy bottom," Wilson replied, squirting a liberal amount of lube onto his hand.

House snorted in amusement. "Shit really isn't something that should be discussed while attempting anal sex."

"We haven't even got to the attempting part, and at the rate we're going we may never actually make it to the attempting part, so I really think you have nothing to worry about." Wilson snapped the lid shut again and tossed the lube aside, shifted in closer to House. He placed a hand onto his asscheek and pulled it aside, and ran his other hand gently down the cleft of House's ass to smear it with lube. He felt House tense up and heard him draw in a quick breath.

"Cold," House remarked.


"No, you're not."

Wilson rolled his eyes, though didn't bother to argue. He started to rub his fingers in gentle circles around House's anus and suppressed a smirk at the groan House gave. Fingering House was something he had done before, so this wasn't the part he felt uncertain about. Stretching and preparing him, however, was something he hadn't done. He'd experienced it enough with House to know what to do, but that didn't stop the idea of penetrating House any less daunting. He pushed his finger into House and started the slow process of sliding his finger in and out, stroking his prostate gently and alternating different angles with his finger. He could tell was enjoying it with the way he'd closed his eyes and rocked his hips forward each time Wilson stroked the base of his prostate and decided to introduce a second finger.

"Don't stop," House murmured.

"I need the lube."

"You're breaking my concentration."

"Just give me the lube." House slapped his hand onto the bed and felt around for the lube without opening his eyes, and tossed it at Wilson. It landed on Wilson's thigh, and after he picked it up he flicked the lid open. "Pass me a condom, too," Wilson said as he slicked his hand up.

"Get it yourself."

Wilson gave an exasperated sigh. "Will you stop being a pain in the ass?"

"Pretty soon, you're going to be a pain in my ass, so I'm compensating with payback now."

Wilson, despite himself, laughed. "Your confidence in me is reassuring. Really."

"Glad you think so," House dryly replied.

"Just get me a condom."

House sighed like it was a laborious task and stretched his arm across to the box of condoms lying on the bedside table. He tossed them carelessly towards Wilson. "Don't waste them like you did with the last one."

"Stop complaining and I won't," Wilson said as he pulled a condom out of the box. He ripped the packet open with his teeth, plucked the condom out and then stroked himself until he was hard before rolling the condom onto his penis.

"I never knew being a bottom was so boring."

Wilson looked up at House and quirked his brows. Boring? House found him boring? Well, that did little for his confidence. He cleared his throat and tried not to appear as insecure as he suddenly felt. "I had no idea you were bored," he casually remarked.

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"Well… at least you're relaxed?" Wilson offered.

"Oh, yeah, totally relaxed," House sarcastically replied.

Wilson frowned. He turned his attention back to the lube and tried to push aside the feeling of inadequacy House was instilling in him, and after he squirted more lube onto his hand he moved his hand to House's ass and reintroduced his finger. He shifted on the bed to stretch out beside House and started to press kisses against his back while he pushed his finger in and out of House. The quiet groans of pleasure House gave made him feel a little better. "That feel good?" he asked timidly, more for his own reassurance than anything.

"Can't talk; mentally preparing myself to be fucked," House muttered into his pillow.

Wilson snorted quietly, uncertain whether he actually felt reassured by that response at all or not. He pushed his finger in a little deeper and teased House's prostate until he felt House jerk his hips forward with a grunt. Pushing himself up to a sitting position again, Wilson pulled House's asscheek aside and carefully started to wedge his second finger into House.

"Aahhh," House hissed quietly into his pillow.

Wilson immediately stopped. "What?"

House shook his head after a short pause. "Nothing," he replied. "Keep going."

Wilson wasn't convinced. He could feel House had tensed up with the way he was clenching his ass. "Relax," Wilson instructed. "You're going to make this uncomfortable for yourself if you don't."

"I already am uncomfortable."

Well. This wasn't going too well. Wilson sighed and forced aside another well of inadequacy as he gently continued to push his fingers into House. It seemed each and every movement of his fingers made House tense up more and more, and at one point Wilson almost gave up. He stopped a few times to add more lube and wondered if it was worth it at all when he began to introduce his third finger, only to have House complain loudly that it hurt.

Wilson was far from aroused now, and felt about as adequate as a clumsy virgin. He felt embarrassed, too, that House obviously wasn't enjoying this anywhere near as much as Wilson hoped he would. "If this hurts, then we should stop," Wilson said in a flat voice.

"No," House stubbornly replied.


"We got this far. Don't start something you can't finish."

"It seems to me like you don't want to finish this."

"Just get on with it."

Wilson sighed. He half-heartedly worked his fingers into House, grimacing every time House made a sound of discomfort. It seemed persistence eventually paid off, though, because once he'd managed to get his fingers into House he focused as much attention as he could on his prostate, and House started to respond with sounds of pleasure instead of pain, even rocking his hips to encourage Wilson to stroke his fingers in and out a little faster.

That sparked renewed arousal in Wilson, as well as confidence. His penis slowly started to fill out, and he began to touch and stroke himself with his free hand to get himself hard. When House started to breathe heavily, Wilson began to draw his fingers out with the intention of climbing on top of House.

"You don't have the world's biggest dick by a long shot, but right now it suddenly seems like the size of Moby Dick," House admitted.

Wilson glanced down at himself and then back up at House. "I'll go slow," he promised.

"That doesn't shapeshift the idea of your penis into anything smaller than a whale's right at this moment," House replied.

"All the more reason to call me a dork, then, right?" Wilson joked lightly.

House snorted.

Wilson climbed on top of House and he hated how nervous he felt. This was stupid -- he'd had sex with House many times, so there really wasn't any reason to feel like House's body was foreign to him. Except this was a part of House's body that Wilson wasn't acquainted with because Wilson had always been on the receiving end, and he'd never anticipated to feel this unsure of himself. Had he known, he would've spent more time exploring and experimenting until both House and himself felt comfortable enough to do this.

He kneeled between House's thighs, applying more lube to House's ass and to his penis until he had lube everywhere. After he snapped the bottle shut it clumsily slipped out of his hand and Wilson wiped his palms on the sheets. He leaned over House and dropped a few kisses to House's back, supporting his weight on one hand while he held his penis in his other. He noticed out of the corner of his eyes that House had taken to gripping the pillow beneath his head, as though he was bracing himself for what was to come. That didn't inspire confidence in Wilson, either. Swallowing back his insecurity, Wilson pressed the head of his penis against House's anus.

"Ahhhh," House quietly hissed.

Wilson closed his eyes and resisted the urge to sigh despondently. He pushed forward gently, which elicited another hiss from House, and it was all Wilson could do to push in as slowly as he could. House was anything but relaxed, and that just proved to Wilson that he sucked at this.

"Fuck," House gasped when Wilson's penis pushed passed the inner circle of muscles.

He halted. "You okay?"

"No," House replied in a strained voice.

"Uh. You want to… stop?"

House grunted and shifted awkwardly on the bed. "Don't know."

Well, that wasn't a very helpful answer. Wilson wasn't sure whether to pull back or keep going. He decided, after a moment, to keep going and tried to work his way in by rocking back and forth gently the way House did sometimes, which always gave a chance for Wilson to move with him so Wilson had control over the penetration.

"Nnnrgh," House gurgled into the pillow.

"Do you want me to stop?" Wilson said again, insistently this time.


"Why? It's obviously hurting you."

House turned his head on the pillow so he was looking the other way, and let out a tight breath. "Keep going."

"Stop being such a stubborn asshole."

"It's my asshole that's being stubborn, not me."

Wilson snorted, though his amusement was cut short by House giving another uncomfortable grunt. "We can stop."



"Shut up and fuck me."

Wilson sighed. "What, no derogatory remarks about 'making love'?"

"'Shut up and make love to me' doesn't sound right when I feel like I have Vicodin shit up my ass."

"A what?"

"Vicodin shit." House turned his head the other way and grunted again in discomfort. "Makes me constipated. This anal sex thing feels like I've got a stubborn turd lodged up my ass."

"Okay," Wilson replied promptly, pulling out of House. "I'm done here."

House lifted his head from the pillow to look up over his shoulder at Wilson. "What?"

Wilson climbed off House and tipped over onto his back. He was stupid to even try this. Stupid, stupid, stupid. "This isn't working out," he replied as he slid the condom off.

House shifted up onto his elbows. "It could've if you kept trying."

"You talking about constipation and turds while I had my dick halfway up your ass wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I suggested this."

"Aww, come on. You're not going to start sulking, are you?"

Wilson ignored House as he leaned over the edge of the bed and tossed the condom in the bin. He then crawled forward to reach for the other condom left lying in the sheet, and discarded that one, too. "I'm not sulking," he finally replied. "I'm just disappointed."


"Why? Because that totally sucked, that's why." He ignored the way House rolled his eyes and scooted forward on the bed. He'd have a shower, maybe watch some television, put this whole foolishly ambitious ordeal behind him.

"Where do you think you're going?" House asked.

"To have a shower."

"You haven't got me off yet; you can't go."

Wilson threw an incredulous look over his shoulder at House. "What, and continue to feel like I'm your proctologist?"

"If role playing is what gets you off."

Wilson snorted. "Somehow, I think you incorporating talk of faeces into the whole act kind of killed the mood a little. So, no, I don't think I'm with the whole role playing thing."

House rolled onto his back with a grunt and then waved his hand dismissively at Wilson. "Who cares. Role playing or not, you should finish what you started."

"I should, should I?"

House nodded. "Yep. Only fair."

"I think you're capable of finishing off the job yourself."

"Nowhere near as fun, though."

"Hey," Wilson replied as he stood up from the bed. He turned to face House. "You of all people shouldn't knock masturbation."

"Why not?"

He gestured to House with his hand. "Well," he replied matter-of-factly, "after all, it's having sex with someone you love."

House scowled. "Like I don't love you."

Wilson started to smile at House as he walked slowly around the bed. In the strangest ways, House had a way of making him feel better whenever he was disheartened by something. He often wondered if House did that deliberately, or if House even realised he was doing that all. He stopped at the foot of the bed. "Does your ego know that?"

House gave him an amused look as he propped his hands underneath his head. "My ego is understanding towards my need for an open relationship."

"Well, that's good to know," Wilson replied. He smiled at House, who smirked back at him, and Wilson kept on smiling to himself as he headed out of the room.