Um. I was listening to show tunes when I got the inspiration to write more for this. ... Don't. Ask. Weird music gives me the creative energy I require. Also... I apparently feel a need to write more when people ask if I'm going to. I aim to please (so long as I like what I'm writing)! ... Some spoilers for the end of Season 4 and in the NOTE.
hughville -I'm so glad you liked it. I honestly thought it was terrible... I did write it about 2 a.m. I went back to re-read it and realized that it actually doesn't suck big fat ass. Thank you so much! ... I guess they weren't as OOC as I thought. :D
jaime - Thank you! Glad you enjoyed.
Kyrie - ... Holy shit, I evoked a squeal from you? ... That makes me feel awesome. :3
NOTE: I don't incorporate House's new team in my stories. Why? Because I hate them. They're not as fun as his original three. Thirteen's just a lame bisexual who's dying and nobody cares, Taub is just a white, midget version of Foreman (who FAILS because he doesn't have crazy eyes like Foreman), and Kutner's unbearably fucking retarded, which I was okay with until they abruptly made him kill himself. Seriously, what the hell? D: ... I know Kal Penn went to work for the president, but they could've done something cooler with him then that anti-climactic shit. I really love Crazy-Eyed-Generic-Black-Doctor Man, Stupid-As-Fuck-Australian Mate, and Crazy-Ass-Closeted-Sex-Addict Bitch.
Admittedly, the first few days after Wilson's return were awkward. There were a couple of instances where one of the two men went to make a joke that would've normally meant nothing, then stopped dead in their tracks. Those moments were always followed by stressful silences.
Slowly, those moments came fewer and farther apart until about a month later they were gone all together. The two had even gotten a bit into the dating scene, though it didn't feel much different than the meals they'd eaten out or in together previously. All that really changed was now there were slight brushings of hands against the other's, staring at each other for too long in complete and comfortable silence, or a subtle bumping of legs beneath the table that usually led to lingering to rub against each other before pulling away and going on as though nothing had happened.
Eventually, they graduated to small pecks on the cheek and holding hands behind closed doors, mainly at House's apartment while watching the television together. They would never discuss moving up to doing more lover-type things; they'd just start doing it and grow comfortable with it.
House noticed that Wilson was still a bit withdrawn and less enthusiastic to do more than cheek-kissing and hand-holding. He'd wondered about it before, but his thoughts were finally confirmed when he pushed Wilson gently onto his back on the couch and settled on top of him, kissing his neck. The slighter man moaned a bit until he felt the diagnostician's hand creeping up his shirt. Firm hands were placed on House's shoulders, pushing him back so they could look each other in the eye. No words were needed. He could see the look in Wilson's eye, the look that told him that he was still mourning Amber. God, she was good. Even from the grave she still managed to make his life more troublesome.
But he knew that it would take the younger man some time to get over her and her death, so he didn't voiced his irritations. Instead, he refrained from pushing to do more and forced himself to be content with what he was already allowed to do.
Unfortunately, his growing sexual frustration began accompanying him to work.
He was in his office discussing a patient with his team when a simple mentioning of the patient's past sexual encounters came up in exploration of STD's. The constant saying of "sex" or anything pertaining to it, really, was enough to have him wishing that he hadn't been abstinent for so long. He'd stopped having prostitutes over after Wilson left, so he hadn't had sex in roughly two months. He never thought things could get this bad.
There he was, thankfully sitting behind his desk, getting unbelievably horny like some teenager with raging hormones. This was bullshit, and he couldn't keep quiet any longer.
After growling at his team to leave and shut the blinds behind them, he got himself off and cleaned up in record time before heading over to Wilson's office. Like always, he didn't bother knocking and merely barged in.
The oncologist looked up from his paper work and smiled warmly, "Hey, House."
"Wilson." The older man barely cast a glance at him as he hurriedly shut the door behind him.
Wilson leaned back in his chair, eyeing his friend curiously, "Something wrong?"
"Actually, yeah." He took a seat across from the younger man and stared at him with intense piercing blue eyes, "I just got hot while discussing a patient's potential for contracting STD's."
"That... sounds like something you should keep to yourself." he chuckled light-heartedly.
"I'm not done yet." His tone had Wilson stop mid-chuckle and blink at him, nodding silently for him to continue, "I can't stand not being more... physical with you."
"Well... um..." Wilson stammered, face flushing slightly.
"I'm not necessarily saying I wanna throw you down and fuck you senseless right now, though that does sound like fun."
Wilson merely ignored the last bit of House's statement, "So, you just need some release?"
"How much more alone time do you think you have before your team comes looking for you?"
"About... twenty minutes."
"Well, that provides enough time for a rather hot make-out session, don't you think?" Wilson asked, smiling innocently.
"I swear Wilson, if you're jerking me around I'll put you in a coma, harvest your organs and sell them on the black market."
"Oh, don't be so melodramatic. You wouldn't be able to, anyways." Wilson stood and walked around the desk to him.
House looked up at him, eyes already partially glazed over, "Oh?"
"Nope. You'd have to be able to catch me first." he smiled sweetly, leaning down slightly.
House grabbed his tie and yanked him down so they were mere inches apart, "I'd find a way."
"I'm sure you would." Wilson muttered before closing the distance between their lips.
Both men had forgotten just how sweet-tasting a first kiss could be.
That was so gay. Absolutely and utterly gay. ...I love it. :3
Hm... not much to say. I thought about making this another story instead of an extra chapter, but figured not.
This is the ENDof this story. My next stop for this fandom is a HouseWilson smut!fic... if you'd all vote, dammit. 8D
Thanks for reading and review if you like, as they make my day.