Summary: Oneshot, newly established H/W, House decides to throw a bachelor party for himself and Wilson. Could be read by itself or as a prequel to Every Morning and/or a sequel to any of my other H/Ws. Happy mixture of smut and fluff, which we need during this trying time.

Disclaimer: I do not own House or any of the characters. If I did, you wouldn't be reading this on fanfiction, you'd be watching it on TV. Well, some of it. The rest of it you'd need to purchase separately through your cable provider.

The Bachelor Party

Wilson looked up from his desk at the familiar sound of his office door opening suddenly, without the warning of a knock, but he smiled because he knew who the entrant would be and was always happy to see him, even when he interrupted work.

"Hello, Greg."

House rolled his eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you? It's okay for you to call me Greg in the bedroom when my extraordinary sex skills make you lose all control of what comes out of your mouth, or if we're at home and you want to act all gay and mushy with me. But at work, for the love of god, just stick with House."

"You don't believe in god," Wilson reminded him, turning back to his paperwork as House settled on the couch.

"I'm aware of that," House answered. He didn't say anything else, so Wilson didn't respond.

"Wilson," House said a few minutes later, and Wilson looked up. House's demeanor had changed; he was serious now. As much as he complained about the first-name basis, House probably called him James at least seventy-five percent of the time. Now Wilson could tell House was feeling a bit uncomfortable, and he was trying to offset that feeling of discomfort by slipping back into something more familiar to him.

"What's up, House?" Wilson asked seriously.

"I need to ask you a question."

The diagnostician was not looking at him; he was looking at the chair in front of his desk. Wilson started to get nervous, too, but he told himself not to show it because House was more likely to say what was on his mind if he remained calm. There were few things that House didn't like discussing, and most of them House only had to discuss with Dr. Nolan, not Wilson. This had to be about their relationship.

"Go ahead," Wilson replied, trying to keep his tone even. He kept looking at House's face in case the older man wanted to catch his eye. This he did quickly before rushing into a monologue.

"I know we're not getting married or anything. When you get married, it fails. I'm not doing any of that domestic partner or civil union crap that they decide counts as marriage if you're banging a guy instead of a chick. I'm not filling out any paperwork that ties me to you forever. I didn't do it with Stacy and I'm not doing it with you. But I wanna know...are you intending...I you plan on this being permanent?"

He caught Wilson's eye again. Wilson had to smile. He got up from his desk, not looking away from House, and sat down on the couch next do him. "Yes, Greg," he nodded. He took one of House's hands off of his lap and held it with both of his own. He focused on House's whole face, not just his eyes, and continued to nod at him. "I intend for this to be permanent."

House nodded back, for some reason not allowing himself to smile, and he let Wilson kiss him warmly and gently on the lips. They couldn't get too intense, not here, not now, but House kissed back with a bit of passion anyway, wrapping his hands around Wilson's waist and pressing himself against him. Wilson's tongue battled House's for dominance and a knock at the door made them both jump, practically out of their skin. Wilson scooted away from House so there were at least a few inches of couch between them and smoothed out his hair. "Come in."

It was Cuddy. She held up a file and started to hand it to House, who glared at her. "Which one of them told you I was in here? Never mind, I'll just fire all of them. The time is ripe for a new team anyway-"

"-House, no one had to tell me. I didn't even check your office or the diagnostic room. Just get the guy cured so you can go do your clinic hours."

He opened his mouth to argue but she had left the file on the couch and exited the room as quickly as she entered it. House shrugged after her before turning back to Wilson.

"Now where were we?"

Wilson laughed and pecked House on the cheek. "Go. I'll see you at home."

"I think the two of you are conspiring against me to get me actually do some work around here."

"You're a sharp one, House," Wilson replied, settling himself down at his desk again.

House picked up the file, but he leaned over Wilson's desk to stick his tongue in his mouth one more time before departing.

Wilson knew something was up before he even made it to the door of the condo. He didn't hear the music itself, really, as much as he could hear and feel the bass. "Greg, what did you do now?" he asked himself as he turned the key.

The door just had to open a crack for the sheer volume of the music to overwhelm him. He stepped into the condo, screwing up his face at the loudness and looking around for the source. However, his survey of the room completely distracted him from his search. There were half-naked women everywhere. He recognized men and Thirteen from the hospital dancing--grinding, really--to the music, drinking and laughing and flirting and touching.

There was definitely a sense of deja-vu all over again; he remembered Chase's bachelor party that House had thrown in his apartment, knowing that would be the only way to get him to attend.

Chase was here, actually, and upon noticing his arrival, announced it to the room. "Hey, Wilson's here!"

"Wilson!" at least five drunk voices chorused. A pretty thing with a completely unnecessary push-up bra placed a drink into his hand, her fingers lingering against his as her cherry lips smiled at him.

He wanted to smile back but his eyes got lost on the way to her face and he ended up grinning at her boobs instead. Her bright red fingernail traced its way up his neck to his chin which she turned toward her face so he could look at her and not just her body. Her eyes were warm brown, like his, and so was her hair. Her right hand had found his left and she tugged him toward his living room-turned dance floor. Wilson downed the shot without even checking what it was and felt the burn, a good burn, as it slid down his throat and into his body. Just one drink, not enough to go to his head, but enough to wake him up.

He checked out her ass as he followed her. Barely covered with red and black lingerie, he could see her cheeks jut out, round and firm and tight. He thought about grabbing one. Maybe after another couple of drinks. They danced, if you could call it that, and at first she didn't press her body to his, for which he was grateful because it was easier to appreciate the view from a foot away.

Sexy stilettos lengthened her already mile-long legs, smooth and creamy and coming together where she was just barely covered...her lingerie rode as low as possible, the fabric wrapping around her hips only an inch wide. Wilson placed his hands on the sleek feminine curves from her hips to waist. His eyes followed her innocent belly button up to her not-so-innocent bra that offered its contents up for the world to see. Wilson was seeing, all right, and he was liking. The soft round flesh of her breasts fell smoothly against the red and black fabric of her bra. It bounced when she moved to the music, not enough to reveal the nipples Wilson knew were under there somewhere, but pretty damn close. His fingers traced along her skin, up her sides towards her bra, and she shivered, smiling at him.

Another pair of hands found its way on her waist, from behind. Wilson looked over the girl's shoulder to see Thirteen pressing her body against the stripper's. She caught Wilson's eye and smiled at him.

"Just because it's your bachelor party doesn't mean you get the hottest girl all to yourself."

"Yeah, right," Wilson said, stepping closer and sandwiching the girl between himself and Thirteen. "Like House didn't come into my office asking me about commitment just as an excuse to throw himself a bachelor party. I should have known something was up."

"Are you gonna complain?" She asked, her fingers brushing against Wilson's as they simultaneously ran their hands up and down the girl's back.

"No," Wilson replied, grinning when the stripper pressed her body against his and he felt her boobs against his chest.

"It's for both of you, anyway," Thirteen shrugged. One of her hands had left the girl's body long enough to find another and pull gently on her bra, bringing her in for a kiss. Wilson watched, thinking to himself that hiring her was the best business decision House had ever made. He saw the lusty look in Thirteen's eyes as she pulled away from the other stripper just an inch and then whispered at her, "Do you mind getting us a couple of drinks?"

Wilson chuckled and then clinked glasses with Thirteen before returning his attention to the girl in front of him. Thirteen left to go find the one who'd brought the drinks and probably make out with her some more. He continued pressing against the stripper's body, loving the feel of her skin underneath his hands and against him, but he watched the room over her shoulder. There were strippers everywhere, and each one had a guy Wilson either knew or recognized dancing with her. He finally saw House, off in the corner grinding with two girls at once. The one behind him had long blonde hair and had her hands wrapped around him as she pressed herself to him. The one in front of him was darker, exotic, and she rested her hands on his waist as she shook her ass against his crotch. He was sliding his hands over her waist and stomach, keeping his face inches from her long neck.

A slight shiver of jealousy ran through Wilson, numbed by the fact that he himself was entwined with a girl. Nevertheless, he disentangled himself from her and headed over to the corner to assert his dominance. He got sidetracked on the way over, though, by two girls Wilson would swear were identical twins, handing him another drink and draping themselves around him. He stared like an idiot at one while the other guided his hand over her soft, warm body. These girls weren't as well-endowed as the one he'd been dancing with earlier, but their matching bras barely covered their breasts and while Wilson tried to also look at their faces and into their eyes, every time he looked down he could see...practically everything. Momentarily forgetting his lover, he danced with the strippers, letting his hands roam everywhere, not kissing them but still getting close enough to smell, almost taste, the alcohol on their breath.

He danced with them for awhile before someone determined it was time to have a body shot contest. The strippers lined up against the wall with shots placed between their breasts while the men and Thirteen stood in front of them. Someone said go and Wilson started to lick the salt of one of the twins' abdomens. He didn't have time to savor the feeling of her soft feminine body beneath his sensitive tongue because he was in a hurry to try and "win"; his mouth reached her bra and he positioned it around the rim of the shot glass. He felt movement in his pants as his lips made contact with her breasts; he heard cheering, someone had evidently already finished their shot and made it to the lime. Wilson swallowed down the tequila and felt it going to his brain--he inwardly cursed himself for being such a lightweight and bit the lime out of her mouth.

Whoever had come in second place called for another round, and Wilson felt like college all over again but enjoyed it. While the girls got their bodies ready for round two Wilson looked around for House, spotting him at the end of the line with the busty brunette Wilson had danced with earlier. He caught his lover's eye and grinned. House, pretty drunk by now, grinned back before returning his attention to his stripper, slipping his fingers across her body.

Wilson moved faster this time, causing the tequila to spill down his chin and neck and the shot glass to almost crash to the floor. Fortunately Wilson's reflexes weren't so affected by the alcohol that he couldn't catch the glass before it broke, but this delayed his getting to the lime and Chase ended up winning, wiping his mouth and throwing his hands in the air while people cheered. Wilson looked over at House again, who wasn't even trying to win but was just enjoying the feel of the woman's curves beneath his lips.

Another twinge of jealousy, stronger this time, overtook Wilson and he left his stripper to go make sure his lover's didn't overstep her bounds. It wasn't necessary, though; by the time Wilson made his way to the other side of the room, she had left House to give a lap dance to Chase for winning the body shot contest.

The crowd gathered around to watch Chase get his lap dance, cheering and drinking and staring at the stripper as she displayed her body for them. Wilson stopped in his tracks, his buzzed mind forgetting about House again, and stared with the rest of them. Thirteen grabbed a chair and a stripper for herself, and everyone hooted and whistled as the sexy stripper entwined her body with the sexy doctor's. Wilson watched, entranced, and as they started kissing he felt himself tingling again.

Everyone booed when the lap dances ended and Foreman and Taub replaced Chase and Thirteen. Some people went for more drinks, or more dancing, others stayed and continued to watch, waiting for their turn for a lap dance. Wilson opted to stay. It was half-his bachelor party, anyway, and he would get his turn to have the smooth curvy body near him soon enough.

An arm snuck around his waist and he might have jumped if his reactions had been quicker; instead he turned around to see House's head coming to a rest on his shoulder.


"Enjoying your party?" House's voice was slightly slurred, and he was grinning at Wilson.

"I thought you threw this party for yourself," Wilson said, raising his eyebrows.

"For both of us," House clarified.

Wilson heard a couple of excited drunken shouts and turned back to the strippers while House started kissing his neck. He smiled, enjoying the stimulation of all his senses at once, but when House took his earlobe into his mouth he moaned.

"Not now, Greg, come on, I'm already-"

"I am horny as hell," House breathed into Wilson's ear, arms snaking around his waist.

"I know," Wilson whispered at him, "and believe me, if it wouldn't cause mass panic I'd fuck you right now, but as it is..." his voice trailed off and he gestured at everyone around them that wouldn't appreciate the party's hosts having wild gay sex.

"The bedroom," House moaned, clutching at Wilson.

"They'll hear us."

"Maybe not..."

It ended up being a moot point because at that point warm soft hands were pulling Wilson and House apart and into the chairs Foreman and Taub had just vacated. Wilson's attention was drawn away from House for the third time that evening and onto the stripper in front of him, a young girl with shiny dark hair and huge breasts, wearing lacy turquoise lingerie and matching eye shadow. She smiled at Wilson as she started to step up onto the chair, and she took his face in her hands, looking at him with her blue-green eyes. Then she put her hands behind her head and turned away, bringing her torso closer to Wilson's and he stared at the curvature of her breasts before she backed off more. She stood in front of him, squatted down and opened her legs to the whistling of the crowd, closed them again and returned to Wilson. She slid herself over his left thigh and then turned around expertly and shook her tight ass an inch from Wilson's crotch.

Wilson slid his hands across her waist, staring at anywhere skin showed on her body. He heard a soft moan next to him and turned toward his lover, who was being enticed by a fiery redhead whose breasts were practically falling out of her tiny bra. House's eyes were focused entirely on the girls, his hands were on the stripper's waist and his mouth was agape. She slid off of him a bit, and his hand went from her waist to her ass, which she let him feel. Wilson continued to watch House's stripper rather than his own, and his reactions to the way she moved her body close to him. He looked at House's pants and could see a definite bulge there, which grew more pronounced as she pressed her huge round boobs against his chest and teased him by shaking her body near his. Watching, Wilson became even more aware of himself; he almost moaned with his own desire, and he looked at his shiny-haired stripper and put his hand up to dismiss her.

Wilson got up slowly, grabbing the chair to steady himself. " 'Scuse me," he said to the redhead, putting an arm gently on her shoulder. "I've got it from here."

She backed off and Wilson sat himself down gently on House's left leg, wrapping his arms around the man's back and kissing him deeply. This action was met with catcalls and whistles from every female in the room and boos and shouts of "Get a room!" from every other male in the room. Wilson ignored them and continued kissing the man that was rightfully his, feeling House's arms hold him against his body, shivering as they pressed themselves together. He pulled back for a moment for air, resting his forehead against House's and stroking his hair with his fingers.

"Maybe," Wilson panted, feeling himself twitching with desire, "they've got a point."

House nodded, staring into Wilson's eyes and playing with his hair, kissed him once more, briefly but passionately, and helped him up off the chair. They made their way to the back of the crowd to be less noticed, and kissed again, Wilson moaning into House's mouth and grabbing his ass, pressing their pelvises together. He was hot, sweating, breathing into House's face. Somehow he managed to catch his lover's eyes, a kernel of cool amidst all the hot, and he whispered lustfully, "I want you so badly right now."

"I know," House murmured back at him, and Wilson knew House could feel him through his pants; they were so close together. They no longer cared if anyone at the party noticed them slipping off together. Wilson fumbled blindly for the doorknob, and as soon as the door was shut tight behind him he started ripping House's clothes off.

"Hurry up," he moaned at House, who was starting to pull his tie the rest of the way off.

"You're the one who insists upon wearing a tie," House panted, pulling at it with one hand and squeezing Wilson's ass with the other, making him moan again.

"You know what, forget it," Wilson panted, pushing House toward the bed. "I can't wait." He skipped taking House's T-shirt off and went straight for his pants; House followed suit. Wilson saw House's hot erection poking through the boxers and moaned with longing. He helped House lean back onto the bed and took the warm stiff cock in his hands. House moaned, leaning his head back and running his fingers through Wilson's hair. Wilson squeezed House's testicles gently, earning a longer moan and a tug on his hair. He rubbed his hands up and down House's shaft, stroking at the tip and feeling his partner dig his fingernails into his scalp. Finally he took House into his mouth, licking and sliding his tongue along him. He sucked greedily at his lover, still stroking with his hands the base that he couldn't get into his mouth.

"James," he heard House moaning. "Oh, fuck, James. Oh, god, James, oh fuck."

Wilson relocated his hands to House's hips as his lover started to thrust, helping him move in and out of his mouth, playing with him with his tongue and sucking. He squeezed House's body with his hands and his dick with his mouth, he heard him swearing and moaning his name. "Oh, god, I'm coming," he moaned a second before he did.

Wilson sucked it down, swallowed, pulling his head back temporarily before licking the rest off the tip. He stared at House for a moment before leaning up quickly to kiss him. As aware as he was of the sensation of tongue against tongue, he could feel himself pulsing against his boxers and he knew he would burst if he wasn't taken care of soon. He stopped kissing House to press their foreheads together and kept his hands on the side of his face. "Oh, Greg, I need you baby now," he moaned, involuntarily thrusting against House's leg just to feel something against his throbbing member.

House kissed him quickly before moving head and hands down toward his crotch and sliding his boxers down his legs. Wilson moaned when House's fingers grazed him, pre-come streaming out. He arched his back, moaning uncontrollably when his lover took him into his mouth. "Oh, Greg," he moaned, hands reaching wildly for his head and sliding his fingers through House's hair. He felt his tongue sliding along the length of his cock, circling around the base when he deep throated and returning to tickle the head as it came out again. "Oh, Greg, stop teasing," he pleaded. "Oh, please, Greg, oh!" He heard his lover chuckle and wanted to curse him. He squeezed House's hair to show he meant business and the older man immediately responded in kind. Squeezing and stroking with his hands and sucking relentlessly on the head with his mouth, House's constant smooth movements drove Wilson wild. Each shift of skin or tongue sent waves of pleasure through his body, so intense he lost control of his movements, thrusting his pelvis and thrashing his legs, panting House's name between moans. He wanted to put off coming as long as possible but couldn't help how fast it happened; he'd been aroused too long.

Wilson collapsed against the bed, panting. He sensed House over him and opened his eyes. They looked at each other for a moment--Wilson wasn't quite sure how long--he always lost track of time when he looked into House's eyes this deeply, this intensely. Eventually House leaned down and kissed him. Wilson closed his eyes before House's lips reached his, and he tasted himself in House's mouth but didn't mind because it mixed with the taste of alcohol and the taste of Greg House, his love and life.

It was later, they'd cleaned up and most of the strippers and guests had gone; they'd made love again, more slowly this time, and now lied comfortably in bed. House rested his head on Wilson's bare chest, arms around his waist possessively. Wilson found this amusing and ironic, considering he'd been the one who spent the whole night jealous of the older man's strippers. Every now and then he ran his fingers through House's hair.

"I know a bachelor party is supposed to be the final act of a single guy before he spends the rest of his life committed to someone, but I for one wouldn't mind doing that more often."

"I don't know, Greg," Wilson said, smiling. "I really didn't like the looks some of those strippers were giving you."

"I ended up in your bed, didn't I?" House responded, propping himself up on an elbow to look at Wilson.

"I know," Wilson smiled, running his fingers through House's hair again and closing his eyes when the older man kissed him. It was brief, chaste, and Wilson quickly reopened his eyes to survey his lover. He smiled at House's eyes and then chuckled.

"What?" House asked, lying back down and snuggling (though he'd never use that word himself) back against Wilson.

"You're very clever, House," Wilson proclaimed, stroking House's head where it lay against his chest.

"I'm aware of this," House responded, nodding against Wilson. "But how so?"

"Hmm, pretending you wanted to ask me if I was committed to you just so you could throw a bachelor party. You had me for awhile, House, but that was just a cover." He slid down on the bed to be at eye level with House, and grinned at him. "You just wanted to know, didn't you? You just wanted to make sure you're my one and only, that I plan on spending the rest of my life-"

"-Hey, if you think I didn't enjoy that party out there-"

"-I never said you didn't enjoy it," Wilson clarified, eyeing him slyly. "But you only threw it as an excuse for asking me, for ensuring that I'm your life partner."

"Don't say that," House groaned into the bedding. "It sounds so gay."

Wilson chuckled. "But you are gay for me. I know you are," he teased. "You love me," he continued, resting his head on the bedding to catch House's eye. He gave him a quick kiss.

"Maybe a little," House admitted, smiling slightly.

Wilson scooted back up on the bed so his head rested on the pillow and House followed him, scooting so his head rested on Wilson's chest. He slipped his arms around him again.

"You'd better not say that in front of anyone though," House warned.

"What, that you're my life partner?" He laughed again at House's groan. "Life partner," he teased into House's ear. House childishly put a hand over the ear that wasn't pressed against Wilson's chest. The younger man chuckled again and squeezed House's side where his hand rested. "How about I just say that you're my...permanent lover?" the oncologist suggested.

House smiled into Wilson's skin. "That works."

A/N: Constructive criticism is appreciated, just be gentle. And positive reviews make me smile, so if you enjoyed this please let me know.