Oh my gosh! House and Wilson are locked in a cupboard...like that has never happened in fanfiction before.
WARNING: Pure Cliché Slash
House used his cane to shove Wilson into the nearest cupboard, allowing the oncologist to trip over the supplies, before pulling on the internal light and grinning as Wilson landed on a heap in the floor.
Wilson threw his hands in the air, "It is sadistic how much you enjoy torturing me."
"Actually it's just egocentric – it makes me happy at your expense." House leant on his cane and watched as Wilson pulled himself up, rubbing his back where House's cane had prodded him.
"And why exactly did you throw me in here?"
"There was a patient."
"It's a hospital; patients do turn up."
"Well it's inconvenient. Especially when they decide to trust you and want your opinion on everything." He added.
"Oh I'm sorry, for a moment there I thought you were implying a patient was grateful."
House hit him round the shoulder with the end of his cane. "That's because you're an idiot."
Wilson rolled his eyes and headed for the door. House took a determined side-step and blocked the way, hanging his cane off the handle as he turned the lock.
"That isn't childish at all." Wilson commented with a sigh as he leant back against the shelving. House briefly stuck his tongue out and likewise leant back against the door.
He turned his ear to the wood as he heard the familiar sound of Cuddy's ridiculously high heels tap down the corridor.
"Damn, it's the Principle."
"Help! Help! I've been kidnapped!" Wilson called. House flung himself forward and covered Wilson's mouth with his hand. Unfortunately his misjudged the weight on his leg and they both fell to the floor in a heap.
"Why are you always such a spoil sport?" House hissed, wincing in pain and not removing his hand from Wilson's face. The footsteps stopped outside the door. The two men glanced back at the handle, expecting it to turn, but mercifully Cuddy just shook her head and continued down the corridor.
House slid his hand from Wilson's mouth and pressed his palm flat on the floor next to the oncologist's head.
"Are you planning on getting off me anytime soon?" Wilson asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Is it annoying you? 'Cause if it is, then no, no chance."
"Of course it's not annoying me House; I really love being squashed to the floor by your sexy body." Wilson responded sarcastically.
Despite the pain, House managed a grin.
"What if my sexy body likes pinning yours to the floor?"
"I would seriously worry about your sexy body."
"You still think it's sexy then?"
"House! Get off me!" Wilson said exasperated, attempting to fling his arms in the air but they were now trapped at the wrists by the diagnostician's hands.
House repositioned himself to take the weight off his leg, remaining head to toe with his best friend; moving forward slightly to level his eyes with Wilson's.
With his hands paralysed, Wilson had to settle for raising his eyebrows.
"You do realise we're locked in a cupboard, on the floor, discussing how sexy each other are?" House said, "This could be misinterpreted."
"By whom? I'm not inviting anyone in here!"
"Good." House said, leaning down ever so slightly to ghost his words over Wilson's lips. "Because neither was I."
Then he slowly closed the final gap and lightly pressed his lips to Wilson's somewhat shocked mouth. As he broke away he was aware his own had gone very dry.
Wilson took a couple of deep breaths to fill the silence then found his tongue.
"Well that was incredibly sexy." He admitted, with a lopsided grin.
"Well of course; this is me we are talking about." House said, completely lacking in modesty, before dipping his head down again and running his tongue along Wilson's bottom lip, then slipping it in past the oncologist's teeth.
Wilson slid his hands from House's grasp and laced them up along the older man's waist, before trailing them up the bumps in his spine. Now with free hands, House found Wilson's face again, this time savouring the touch as he glided his fingers along the other man's jaw line and through his soft hair.
His other hand was slithering down between their warming bodies to the waistband of Wilson's trousers, pausing to grab hold of the material and release the pristine shirt from its hold, then moving up to brush across the skin of Wilson's torso.
They were abruptly interrupted from what was promising to be a very steamy make-out session when the handle on the door was roughly turned. Forgetting the door was locked, both men jumped to their feet; House falling to the floor again in pain. Using one hand to tuck in his shirt, Wilson used the other to pull his friend to his feet and tossed him his cane. There was the sound of keys jangling from the other side of the door.
By the time it opened both doctors were standing [nonchantly], eyes on the door.
"Thank goodness you arrived," House said limping towards the corridor, "You should really look at that lock; people could get trapped in there."
Wilson smiled apologetically as he squeezed passed the janitor and then sped up to follow House down the corridor.
"About what just happened..." He started, moving to block the diagnostician's path.
"Oh don't worry Jimmy." House said, hobbling past him, before throwing over his shoulder, "I plan to have a lot more grateful patients from now on."
With his hands on his hips, Wilson just grinned into the tiles on the floor.