Disclaimer: I don't own them. *sniff*
A/N: Quick, unbeta'd story inspired by the fic here: .
"We're going to get caught," Wilson hissed as he glanced over his shoulder.
"I slipped good ol' Phil the Pharmacist a hundred bucks to get lost for half an hour," House countered. "And since he left me the key…" House reached around Wilson and locked the door to the pharmacy. "See? Foolproof."
"No," Wilson protested, shaking his head and squirming away from House. "Cuddy has a key, too."
"Where do you think Phil is going to be for the next half-hour? He's going over some 'irregularities' on old invoices."
The oncologist stared nervously between his friend and the locked door. "Are there any irregularities?"
House sighed and rolled his eyes. "Not from my doing. As for Phil… I didn't get into details with him."
Wilson pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. "So say Phil is responsible for some irregularities and is setting us up so he can plea bargain out of trouble by ratting us out."
House's eyebrows shot upwards. "Seriously? You seriously think…" He barley choked back a laugh. "You are good, Wilson, but I don't know that you're 'get out of jail free' good." The diagnostician placed a finger on his chin and thought for a minute. "Although some of the sounds you make…"
"Shut up," the red-faced oncologist hissed.
"A deal's a deal, Wilson. You said if I could go off Vicodin for an entire week…"
"I know what I said," he growled, moving closer to the door so he could press his ear against it. "I just didn't think you'd be able to."
"I never had the right inspiration before."
Wilson stared at House, trying to keep his jaw off the floor as he tried to ascertain whether House was jerking him around. One glance at the pair of blue eyes gazing lustfully at his crotch convinced him of his friend's sincerity.
"So how about it, Wilson? You going to live up to your end of the bet?"
He had to make one last attempt to worm his way out of this part of the bet. "But why here?"
"I like the irony of not using drugs leading to the use of the pharmacy."
"You would," Wilson muttered as he moved away from the door. "You swear we're not going to get caught?"
"Not if you'll shut up. I bribed Phil for thirty minutes so I could enjoy myself, not so you could lecture me on the inappropriateness of sex in the workplace."
"Just…" Wilson's hands nervously flapped in front of him. "Just do it already."
House launched himself at Wilson, letting out a feral growl as he captured the oncologist's mouth. His tongue demanded entrance, which was quickly granted as Wilson melted against him. House reached down with his right hand, moaning in anticipation as he brushed his fingers against the other man's crotch.
"For someone who didn't want to do this..." he panted against Wilson's mouth.
"Shut up," he breathed harshly, placing his hands on House's shoulders and urging him to his knees.
"Patience, Jimmy," House cooed as his fingers made short work of Wilson's zipper. "Or would you prefer I stop now before we get caught?"
"Tease," he growled, breaking off into another embarrassingly loud moan as House freed his aching member. "Oh, God…"
House smiled as he looked up at his lover, loving the way Wilson clenched his eyes and threw his head back. The normally pale cheeks were flushed red with passion and the well groomed hair had developed a mind of its own, strands of it trying to escape in all directions at once. Once again House found himself marveling at just how beautiful Wilson was when he came undone. The familiar surge of pride swelled in his chest at the knowledge that he, Gregory House, was the one who could do this to him.
"Just admiring the view," he purred. House lowered his mouth onto his lover's cock, swirling his tongue around the tip of Wilson's member and down to the base of his shaft, making sure that no part of Wilson's penis was neglected. He tenderly cupped his lover's balls in one hand while gently tickling along the bottom of his shaft with the other, priding himself on the noises that were pouring forth from the oncologist's mouth. Taking a deep breath, House lightly blew across Wilson's cock until he felt the other man go rigid with the effort to keep still.
"Close," Wilson breathed.
House glanced up, enjoying the view of the other man's face where it angled downward. His eyes were closed and his lips pursed as he held his hands out in front of him, unwilling to rest any of his weight on House while his leg was in such a precarious position. That had annoyed House to no end the first few times he'd given head, but he'd come to accept it as part of Wilson's ever-present thoughtful nature.
Of course House had wanted to show that he could be thoughtful, too, which led to him practicing a new technique all week in anticipation of winning the bet. He eagerly swooped down and deep-throated his lover, humming and swallowing around his cock until Wilson came, screaming his name so loudly that he briefly wondered if Cuddy was going to find out after all…
"Where...?" Wilson panted as he sagged against the wall behind him. "Learn that?"
House grinned as he snagged a box of tissues and cleaned his lover. "You'll see when you get the next pay-per-view bill."
"Mmm," Wilson nodded, still trying to convince blood to flow into his overheated brain. "Worth every penny."
"Damn straight," he agreed as he carefully tucked Wilson back into his pants. "Give a cripple a hand up?"
Wilson's trembling hand grasped his and he carefully pulled the diagnostician to his feet. The oncologist wrapped his fingers around House's wrist as sincere brown eyes locked onto blue ones. "You are amazing."
"Not too bad yourself, Jimmy. Now, write out a script for my pills so we can blow this joint."
Wilson eyed him thoughtfully, before suggestively waggling his eyebrows. "How about another bet instead?"
"Uh-uh," House shook his head. "Taking you in the pharmacy was my fantasy and it's been fulfilled. Besides, Phil will start asking for more money if we make this a habit."
"Forget Phil," he grinned, leaning in to kiss the other man. "I was thinking that there's an entire hospital that has yet to be sullied by such inglorious acts. The radiology department, the MRI, Cuddy's office…"
"You wouldn't," House laughed in disbelief.
"A month without Vicodin," Wilson offered. "And Cuddy's office won't know what hit it."
A month of excruciating pain without the use of narcotics to manage it seemed like an impossible goal. But the chance to take Wilson in the one place he'd thought impossible, not to mention a month of Wilson giving him anything he wanted to take his mind off his pain… Really, that was a no-brainer.
With a smug grin, House nodded. "You're on."