Title: Proper Attention
Fandom: House M.D.
Category: First-time, romance, humor, slash, angst, hurt/comfort, Wilson whumpage,
Rating: M or NC-17
Warning: Explicit slash, m/m penetrative intercourse, also some explicit medical whatsits, but nothing gross. Minor violence. Also, off-camera canon death of Amber.
Summary: "How did this happen? I was calling you out on having the hots for me and now I'm begging you to fuck me? How does that work?"
A/N: Set in late season 4 and continues through early season 5. I have worked with canon as much as I could, including some very specific scenes that I actually put in word-for-word because they were significant to my story. Some canon I have tweeked and molded to my will, because that's what we do. Of course anything that remotely involves Huddy during these seasons in canon has been deleted because this is a Hilson story. Actually Cuddy is hardly even mentioned.
This is a true first-time story and I put every bit of it on camera because first-time sex is a big deal so I made it a big deal. I didn't glaze over it ambiguously. It's all live and in color so if anal sex isn't your deal, please don't read this story. I like the guys being guys, not one being the girl and essentially the bottom-bitch. I like to keep them manly and …well…in character (except they have sex with each other) but Wilson does feelings vs House who does not so they contrast pretty harshly, but they hold their own. I think I kept them pretty much IC but I also had to give it a plot so there are some OMC that sort of whump on Wilson a bit. Let me know if you think it's OOC too much.
Not betaed. All mistakes are mine. I own nothing. House and all the characters do not belong to me. I'm just taking them out to play. Spoilers for Season 4-Don't Ever Change, Living the Dream, House's Head, Wilson's Heart. Season 5-Dying Changes Everything, Not Cancer, Birthmarks, Joy.
File in hand, House reached for the door to treatment room two. Turning the knob, he pushed his way into the room expecting to see a person waiting for him, not the other way around. There was no place in the small room for anyone to be hiding, so he sighed dramatically and turned to walk out the way he'd come in. Wilson suddenly blocked his path stepping inside and closing the door behind him.
House gestured toward the empty room with a flourish of his hand. "I can see you haven't completed the tour yet, but there is no patient here, so…" House went to move toward the door again only to be blocked once more.
"The patient is here. You're the patient."
House quirked an eyebrow and looked at the name on the, apparently, faux file the nurse had handed him. "Oscar Wilde." He nodded in appreciation. "Spouse is Dorian Grey." He turned and tossed the file into the nearby garbage can. "Perfect."
"You didn't drink any coffee this morning at breakfast."
"So what. I wasn't thirsty."
"Thirst has nothing to do with drinking coffee."
"Ah, yes … highly diagnostic criteria has been met. What's the DDx, Doctor?"
Nonplussed, Wilson listed his friend's additional symptoms. "I interrupted you in the bathroom yesterday and you flushed as soon as I'd walked in. I don't think you had just finished though. I think you couldn't go."
House hung his head. "I'm fine …"
"And you are leaning more heavily on your cane. Obviously you're in more pain than usual."
"Wilson, I'm fine." He insisted. "I am trying to cut back on the caffeine and my leg is more painful because this case is …"
Wilson interrupted him before he could finish his rant. "What I don't understand is why you didn't just tell me you were having problems urinating again. You tell me when your leg pain is worse, you came to me when you broke your hand, when you need a refill on your Vicodin. You don't have issues telling me when you have something going on. So I thought maybe it was because this situation would require a more personal exam, but then you told me about your urinary retention when it happened last year. It makes no sense. Why are you hiding?"
House eyed him skeptically. "You're not cornering me because you noticed I didn't drink coffee this morning." Deflecting like a true pro, House glared at him with steely eyes.
Wilson squirmed. "Did too."
"No, you didn't. We are here because that fink, Goldstein ratted me out."
"House …" Wilson shifted his weight and put his hands on his hips. "Not true … I …"
"Bullshit! He called you."
Wilson sighed. "Fine, it's true. Doesn't make me any less worried about you."
"Yeah, sure, now that some pretentious UROLOGIST has pointed out exactly what issue you might be worried about. Afraid I might actually make him diagnose his way out of a paper bag. He came to you crying that the big bad wolf was coming to visit?"
"I'm your primary care physician, he was …"
"He was nervous."
"Well … you don't play well with others."
"Well, you lured me here under false pretense."
"The supposed symptoms you noticed. You didn't notice any of it until AFTER Goldstein said something which means all of it can be chalked up to your own imagination. It's all circumstantial."
"I … uh …"
"Don't play medical mystery with me and expect to win. I'll kick your ass and rub your little puppy dog nose in it." Riding on the distraction of the moment as Wilson stopped to lick his wounds, House went to move toward the door again.
Wilson did not have a long recovery time, however, and stepped, his back up against the door. He pulled a glass vial from his pocket. "If you don't get your ass on that exam table right now, I will inject you with propofol and let your ducklings have their diagnostic way with your limp body."
House squinted his eyes, shooting daggers at his best friend. "You would not."
Wilson pulled a syringe out of his other pocket and held it up. "Care to test that theory?"
House hung his head and sighed. "Fine." He limped to the exam table, settling the handle of his cane on top of the counter on his way.
"I need you to take your clothes off." He reached up into a cupboard and pulled out a patient gown and tossed it onto the exam table. He purposely did not make eye contact wanting to avoid the embarrassment or shock shown in his best-friend's gaze he knew the request warranted.
"When was the last time you urinated?" Wilson turned to face him once again.
"When was the last time you urinated without having to catheterize yourself?"
"That's what I thought."
"I don't need a prostate exam. It's the Vicodin."
"Doesn't matter. You're over forty years old and I haven't given you a complete physical in … way too long. It's past time and you should have your prostate checked annually anyway."
House rolled his eyes. "I like the doctor-patient relationship we've had. I show up and you prescribe me pain pills. It's worked for years. Why mess up that perfect symbiotic relationship now with actual….doctor stuff?"
"Obviously there is a gap in patient care."
"I waive the right to be cared for. Of course that would mean that you'd have to waive the right to care, which your shmoopy, mamby, pamby brain can't compute." He said irritatedly. House didn't bother to unbutton his shirt before he pulled both shirt and t-shirt up over his head and wadded them up and tossed them unceremoniously onto the nearby chair.
Wilson set House's file onto the counter and reached over to grab the gown and make sure all the snaps were snapped before handing it to House. He thought for a moment about stepping out to give him some privacy, but he thought House would just spend that time clogging the sink with the exam table paper or setting off the sprinkler system.
"I'm not wearing that thing." He kicked off his shoes and sent them flying in the general direction of where he had tossed his shirts. He peeled off his jeans leaving his boxer briefs in place. He kicked the jeans to the side not caring where they landed, he rubbed his right thigh and then set himself up on the table, the paper crinkling loudly as he fully planted himself on it. He pointed to the gown in Wilson's hand. "I'm not wearing that and I'm not hanging around naked either. I'm keeping my undies on if that's okay with you Uncle Wilson."
Wilson rolled his eyes. He knew House was just trying to keep as much control over the situation as he could. If he didn't know him any better, he might be offended, but Wilson knew better. Tossing the unused gown onto the counter, Wilson grabbed the blood pressure cuff and came closer to his patient and best friend.
House, thankfully stayed silent throughout the vital signs assessment. "Lugar is an ass. Do you think if I called Lugar for an appointment he would call you to save him?"
Wilson looked up from writing in the file he held in front of him. "Your theory is that if he thinks he's a bigger ass than you, he'll see you?"
"Sorry. I think you're the long-running gold medalist in this event."
"He's a GP anyway. Why would you need one?"
"Thinking about firing you."
"Sorry. Nobody else will take you except me." He placed the file back onto the counter and pulled his stethoscope out. "You've made sure of that over the years. Take deep breaths in and out." Wilson instructed out of habit before placing one hand on House's shoulder as he placed the metal against House's chest.
House rolled his eyes as if to say "duh" but complied making sure to exhale directly into Wilson's face whenever he could.
"Okay, lean forward and hold your breath." Wilson instructed as he listened to House's heart.
House puffed out his cheeks and held his breath as effectively as any five-year-old.
"You can breathe." Wilson placed his stethoscope back to its spot around the back of his neck and reached out to feel the glands under his patient's chin.
"I've never given you a physical either."
"You're not my doctor." Wilson clarified as he moved down House's neck to palpate along the way.
"Why is that?" House moved as required without being directed as the process droned on.
Wilson smirked. "Probably because you take 1 in 20 cases and I'm entirely too boring."
"You're not boring per se…."
"But my case is." Wilson clarified moving to palpate pulses and glands in House's upper extremities.
"Hmmm…major symptoms, excessive caring …ugh…" He yelped as he felt Wilson's hand in his armpit. "…boundary issues."
"Boundary issues are not really an issue if I have to lower them to examine you."
"Assault me is more like."
"You are not being assaulted."
"I'm being held here against my will."
"Well that's because you're a petulant child who needs guidance."
"To continue the DDx, domineering attitude, snippiness and generally oppressive."
Wilson smirked and broke out the pen light. After shining the light into both eyes, he held it out in front of House's face. "Can you …"
"Wilson. Do you know how many neuro exams I've performed? I know what to do."
"Fine." Wilson moved the object in different directions as House followed it around with his eyes.
"I'm wondering if I should list "liar" as one of the symptoms or just chalk that up to "Sherlock Holmes" syndrome."
"Lie down." Wilson helped hold up House's bad leg as he shifted to lie flat onto the exam table. "Those who live on Baker Street shouldn't throw stones." He put his stethoscope in place once more and listened to his patient's belly.
House nodded his approval at the quick witted jab although he was irritated with the man himself.
Wilson straightened his stance again and placed the stethoscope back around his neck. "Any pain in your belly?"
"What? I'm not in any pain."
Wilson pressed firmly into House's lower abdomen eliciting a definite hiss and a white-knuckle grasp onto the sides of the exam table.
"Does that hurt?"
"You're an evil man."
"I am not. Just looking for some effective communication. What else do I need to know?"
"Then why did you make an appointment with a urologist?"
"I just … wanted a consult." He rubbed a hand over his face knowing how lame that sounded. "Wilson, I'm f…"
"If you say that you're fine one more time, I'm braking out the propofol and making a call to your conference room." He looked at his watch. "I think I could catch the ducklings before lunch break."
House sighed and dropped his arms to his sides again. "Fine! Let's start with pertinent negatives shall we. No burning with urination or blood in the urine before the retention started. No frequency or urgency. I haven't urinated on my own for 3 days. I try to cath myself as little as possible but after eight hours, I can't hold it any longer. I have some bilateral flank pain as well."
"You said no blood in the urine before the retention started. Does that mean you're seeing some now?"
"It's because of the caths."
"So that's a yes. Any fever?"
"Loss of appetite, nausea?"
Wilson ran a hand up House's side and followed the edge of his ribs down his back, continuing a couple inches lower to palpate the flank area. House bit his lip.
"Hurts right there?"
"Probably a kidney infection from the retention. We'll get some labs."
"You mean like a UA, doctor?" House rolled his eyes. "Brilliant."
"I know you can't give me a urine sample, House." He pulled out his best impression of Colonel Klink. "But I have vays uf making you talk." And followed this announcement up with an evil laugh.
House couldn't help but smirk as he rubbed his eyes at the thought of having to be catheterized again.
Wilson finished his exam of House's abdomen and checked glands and pulses in the lower extremities. "You have to uncurl your toes so I can check your pedal pulses."
"Oh, sorry." House sounded apprehensive. Probably because he knew the big finale was coming soon.
"Any new issues with the leg?"
"Pain control okay?"
"Is that a trick question?"
"Do you always answer a question with a question?"
"Would you know me otherwise?"
Wilson snickered. "No, probably not." He turned and pulled out more supplies from a drawer and then donned gloves. "Okay, stand up for me." He pulled the rolling stool closer and sat down and waited for House to come to terms.
"When was the last time you had a prostate exam?" House, again, tried to deflect.
"I don't have to yet."
House quirked an eyebrow. "You're thirty-nine … your birthday is …"
"It's in six months."
"I call dibs!"
"House you're not doing my prostate exam. You're not my doctor."
"You have it scheduled?"
"You don't have it scheduled. You're hoping it will go unnoticed at your next GP visit. Which, if I've hacked into your online schedule correctly, is scheduled for …."
"House, knock it off."
"Not to worry Jimmy. I shant let your healthcare needs go unnoticed."
"They are not going unnoticed. I'm an oncologist. I do know a little about key exams during the lifespan."
"Well, I get dibs."
"You are not calling dibs on my prostate exam."
"I'll buy you flowers first."
"Afraid I'll poke and tell?"
"Stand up and drop 'em."
"I consider it a general rule to run in the opposite direction of glove-wearing, lube-wielding doctors."
"Yea, well as a general rule, that's probably advisable, but I still have propofol in my pocket."
House rubbed his right leg and stood up unevenly, quickly balancing his stance.
"I really hate this."
Wilson looked up, sympathy in his eyes. "I know. You hate any kind of medical attention. But, you know as well as I do that you need it."
"I could refuse."
Wilson nodded. "That's true. And I could stop prescribing your vicodin. Neither one of us is going to do that so let's just get this done."
"Is there any possible way of getting out of this?"
"You've given it your best effort and I do applaud you, but no."
Finally House nodded his ascent but didn't move.
"I'm pulling." Wilson warned before the boxer briefs were pulled to mid-thigh. "Do you do self-testicular exams regularly?"
House hissed when each of said testicles were taken gently into warm fingers. "Yes, right before my monthly cycle."
Wilson looked up to see a pained and stressed out look on House's face. He thought it best to take the advice. He knew what sometimes happened during such a personal exam and he didn't want House to feel ashamed. He could see House was giving it his best mind-over-matter action to avoid becoming erect in front of his best friend. "Cough." Was only said out of necessity in order to complete the exam.
House hauled his briefs back up as soon as the exam was finished. Wilson turned, threw out his gloves and washed his hands to give his friend time to recover. When he turned, House was facing away from him, leaning heavily against the table, both hands palm-down on the table. He was breathing heavily.
"You okay?" Wilson reached for a new pair of gloves and applied a generous amount of the lubricant on a finger of his left hand.
House nodded and blew out a breath very slowly.
"House, it's natural …"
"Don't give me the comforting speech, please." He looked briefly toward Wilson noticing the lubed finger. He shivered and sighed heavily before he bent himself over the side of the table and hooked a thumb into the waistband of his shorts and yanked them down. "Let's just get this over with."
Wilson placed his right hand in the small of House's back to steady him. "This is gonna feel cold and wet."
"Sorry, little pressure."
"Yea, I got that!"
"Take some deep breaths."
"I'm fine. Just hurry."
With a practiced, professional hand, Wilson found the gland and assessed it quickly. "Alright, that's it. I'm done." He withdrew gently and discarded the gloves an instant later. House was uncoordinatedly attempting to get his briefs back into place and very definitively not turning around. Wilson grabbed the waistband and pulled them back into place then reached for the discarded gown sitting on the counter, handing the bulky material to his friend. House nodded his appreciation in silence and sat gingerly with the gown in his lap.
Wilson turned and washed his hands once more. "Well, I didn't find any hernias or testicular anomalies so that's good. Your prostate isn't swollen either so it's probably just side effects of the medications."
"Gee, where have I heard that before?"
"You do have allergies though."
"Apropos of nothing …"
"If you took an over-the-counter sinus medication like pseudophedrine, it can cause urinary retention. Especially if you take quite a bit of it." He remembered catching House snorting lines of sinus meds before.
"I haven't seen you have allergy symptoms lately though."
House rubbed his eyes. "That would be because I'm snorting pseudophedrine."
"Why didn't I think of that?"
"Probably because you couldn't pee and your allergies were acting up which is the ironic thing about it." Wilson chuckled. "I should rub your puppy dog nose in it but I'll be the bigger person."
"Good of you." House smiled. "Definite Sherlock Holmes syndrome."
"Wilson is to Watson as House is to Holmes." Wilson finished his charting and went toward the door. "I want an ultrasound of your kidneys just to be safe. I'll grab your antibiotics from the pharmacy and meet you in Oncology."
House was taken aback. He though he was finally done with the torture. "Why am I meeting you in Oncology?"
"Privacy. I'll do the ultrasound myself and anchor the catheter with a leg bag and get the sample for the UA. I think nurse Elsie is working today, if you'd rather have her do it."
"I'll pass." House looked away. "You don't have to do it yourself. Just write me an order. I'll go through outpatient."
"Shut up." Wilson scrunched his eyebrows together, half in anger, half in frustration. "We don't send each other to … to outpatient." He said it as though it was akin to sending someone to purgatory. "Would you send me to outpatient?."
"Anyway, you'll need to keep the catheter in until the swelling goes down and your bladder can relax. Shouldn't be more than a day or so. You're probably dehydrated so I'll run in a quick liter of fluid."
"Can't we just do it here in the clinic?"
"There is just more room and more privacy and I can use those rooms more freely since it's my department. Unless you want to use a room in the diagnostic wing…oh wait … that doesn't exist."
"My place then." Wilson opened the door. "See you in thirty minutes."
"Whoa!" House yelped as his penis was grasped firmly by Wilson's right hand. Without notice he shoved a blunt syringe filled with gel into the tip of his penis and emptied the contents. "Holy … what the …"
"Is that lidocaine jelly?"
"You are such a beautiful man." House relaxed as the stinging feeling went away completely and left the area numb.
"You didn't use lido when you cathed yourself?"
House shook his head. "I didn't think of it at first, but then I'd have had to put the med in someone's name to get it from the pharmacy and I was doing it too often for it to go unnoticed."
"Like that's stopped you before." Wilson threaded the rubber tubing into House's penis with pain-free ease and anchored it before collecting a specimen for lab and then setting up a leg bag that could be discretely warn underneath regular clothing. He drew the sheet up over his patient, finished marking the blood and urine specimens for lab before discarding his gloves, washing his hands and handing them off to a nearby nurse at the nurse's station. Upon returning to the room, Wilson dragged the ultrasound machine to the bedside. He checked on the progress of the IV fluids running into a vein in House's left arm before he settled in sitting on a stool with the machine whirring in front of him. Before Wilson could direct House to change positions, he let out a sigh and positioned himself appropriately for the ultrasound.
"You look pensive." House inquired.
Wilson shook his head even though his patient couldn't see the gesture. "I'm not."
"Now you're being passive aggressive."
"I don't think I signed up for the bedside psych assessment. Especially since it isn't my bedside."
"Lucky you, it's free."
"House." Wilson stated as more of a warning as he continued to move the probe around into the gel and push buttons.
"Look, I didn't not tell you as my friend. I just didn't come clean to my doctor. Who does? Isn't that expected behavior of your patients?"
"You didn't tell either one of us, apparently." Wilson snorted easily able to decipher House's language. "Were you afraid that I as your friend might tell me as your doctor?"
"You're dangerous when you start talking in the third person." When Wilson didn't smile, House continued. "I was afraid you'd tell your girlfriend. I don't need Amber knowing about what's going on in my naughty place."
"Why would I tell Amber?"
"Oh please! You tell her everything."
"I knew you'd hold a grudge about the syphilis thing. That was different. I was telling my girlfriend about a funny joke. I tell her things about my life, about work, about you. She ran with it."
"And you weren't betrayed that she used your relationship to get to me? She's a spy who …"
"Oh, quit being so dramatic. Amber is not Pussy Galore and you are not James Bond. She did what she thought was right. I was upset about it, but not all that pissed. I got over it pretty quickly actually. Go figure."
"She pacified you with sex."
"Works every time."
"So why are you mad at me, again?"
"I shouldn't have to wait to hear something from another doctor to know that you're sick …"
"I'm not sick …"
Wilson continued as though he wasn't interrupted. "I shouldn't have to corner you and blackmail or threaten you to keep me informed about your health. I'm the one that signs your prescriptions. This is stuff I have to know and …damnit….you know better." He gave the machine one heavy-handed push of a button. "Other side." House flipped carefully making sure to take his tubes with him. Wilson could feel the blue eyes of his patient boring a hole into his skull. "Well?"
"Actually, you would be more like Pussy Galore. Amber is Auric Goldfinger in this scenario."
Wilson sighed. He knew he wasn't going to get any promises or platitudes from House. He settled in to clicking and probing again. "Why isn't your team knocking the door down? Where did you tell them you were?"
"Having my genital warts scraped."
Wilson laughed which made House laugh.
Wilson was busy with paperwork the next morning when House barged into his office unannounced, as usual.
"Before you have to hijack an exam room and bend me to your will I thought I'd let you know that I'm healed." He didn't bother to come all the way into the office or even shut the door so Wilson knew this was going to be a short visit.
"You're not healed."
"Close enough. I can pee. It's a miracle."
"Keep taking the antibiotics and not taking the pseudeophedrine."
"Yes, mom. See ya for lunch?"
House closed the door as he left.
The next Wednesday evening on their play date, House had cooked. It really was a shame House was too lazy, busy or self-centered to make it a more frequent affair, but the scattered occasions he had been able to eat House's cooking, it was absolutely, maddeningly amazing.
After the game was over, Wilson declared he would do the dishes before Amber came to pick him up.
"You don't have to do the dishes."
"You cooked. It's only fair." Wilson rolled up his shirt sleeves and busied himself with the dishwater. "Why are you turning down free labor, especially from me? I've done your dishes a hundred times, mostly when you won't do them yourself."
"I'm being nice."
"You're being nice?"
"I can change."
"Yea, sure. Why would you though?"
House resolutely did not pick up the dish towel to help with the dishes. Instead he took up his stance against the kitchen counter leaning heavily on his left leg with arms crossed in front of him. Wilson recognized it as a highly self-protective stance.
"Maybe because I know you're being pussy whipped at home. I feel sorry for you."
Wilson snickered. "You don't feel sorry for anyone, let alone me. And I am NOT whipped."
"Then maybe I should feel sorry for you for the lack of being whipped. No box with leather and chains being taken down from a high shelf in Amber's closet?"
"Well, actually…" Wilson smiled and turned to look at House. A distinct look was momentarily displayed. One that was flashed so quickly, he wasn't even sure he actually had seen it. What was that? What was it? Anger? That made no sense. Disgust? Please! With the amount of porn House watched, there was no way he would be judgmental or even mildly disgusted at the prospect.
House schooled his expression quickly but it was there. It had been there for Wilson, just long enough for him to finally decipher. It was jealousy. Jealous of who? Jealous of Wilson or of Amber? The conversation in the restaurant came back to Wilson. "Oh my God! You're sleeping with me." It had thrown House for a loop, that realization. He'd gone pale and retreated. Wilson hadn't thought much about it. He could see the similarities between the two, personality-wise. Wilson took House's quick retreat that night as his disgust at the prospect but maybe it was more than that. Maybe it was more like regret. He replayed the events over the last several months—the scene outside of the elevator came back to him.
"Went by your hotel this morning. They said you'd moved out. You move in with CB?"
"No, apparently I moved in with you."
"The very fact that you're resisting my insight proves to me …"
"House, you're right." Wilson waved his arms, keys still in hand. "Why not date you? It's brilliant. We've known each other for years. We put up with all kinds of crap from each other and we keep coming back. We're a couple."
House raised an eyebrow. "Are we still speaking metaphorically?"
"Amber is exactly what I need and if you weren't mired in self-loathing topped with a thin crust of megalomania." Wilson poked his keys toward House's chest.
"Hey, that's my best friend's girl you're talking about."
Wilson walked away toward his office shaking his head.
House turned toward his friend. "I was wrong."
Wilson turned in response. "House. You're right."
"She's not me, well she is me, but that's not why she's attractive. She's a needy version of me."
Wilson shook his head in mock disbelief. "Hard to imagine such a mythical creature."
"You started seeing her right after I fired her."
Wilson shook his head. "I started seeing her four months ago."
"She told Kutner it was four weeks."
Wilson sighed heavily.
"You lied to me. And there was money on the line."
"Because I knew how you'd react and I knew you wouldn't pay me anyway."
"You knew I was right."
"She wasn't needy. She was just … in a bad situation. There's a difference." Wilson turned to go to his office once more.
"Not to your libido."
Wilson came back waving a hand, coming face-to-face once more with his friend. "Wait a minute … wait a minute. Why are you doing this? Every time I agree with you, you find a new argument. What are you trying to avoid?"
House lowered his head but peered at Wilson with a half smirk.
"Well, if you'd looked at me with those flashing eyes before I was involved …" he shrugged, key ready as he turned, once more to his office door. "Ce la vie." He unlocked his door and turned to say, "and I use the French because … you're an ass." And then made his way into his office alone and shut the door.
Wilson coupled these conversations with many more comments over the recent past. Add it to the toe-curling in the exam room, the erection, the closeness, the touching. He knew, but what the hell? What the hell was there to do about it? He loved Amber.
House shook himself from his reverie. He'd been too close to Wilson. Wilson had been talking … talking about … what? He couldn't even recall, he just knew he had been so close and House was just about to lean in and kiss Wilson, when he realized Wilson was only in his space to put the dish away. Maybe. Wilson was acting strange. He had backed away from House and had a look … a look like he'd just found out the most horrendous secret. House thought back quickly about recent events. Had he given himself away? Did his best friend know how he truly felt about him? Yes, he'd gotten hard during the exam—he was sure that wasn't the first time that'd probably happened to Wilson.
Wilson shook his head as though he were just coming out of a coma. "I … I think you like me."
House raised an eyebrow. "Of course I like you. You're my best friend."
The doorbell rang.
"I didn't know …"
House had his own lightning-fast recovery time. "Didn't know what?" What had he seen in House's actions that made Wilson jump to that conclusion? House obfuscated. Maybe he'd seen a look. Maybe he could pass it off as something else. "You're lucky I didn't hurl on your shoes with how bad my leg is protesting to being upright for this long." He grabbed the dishtowel from his gobsmacked friend. "Go. Your cut-throat bitch is here. Play date is over."
Wilson's reverie was broken by a 2nd ringing of the doorbell followed by a persistent knock. He nodded his head and silently grabbed his jacket and moved toward the door. He didn't look back to see House before he pulled the door shut and went home with Amber.
Wilson had no idea what to do with the information he had learned that evening. It was not like him to avoid a situation but the more he thought about it, the more he convinced himself he was not interpreting it correctly. House was in pain all the time. Maybe the looks he thought he saw were merely pained expressions and even if he did have … those feelings, House had obviously no intention to act upon them anyway. He'd proven that by giving Wilson the excuse that he was actually in pain and had essentially kicked him out. Wilson loved Amber. Wilson was … normal.
House avoided him for another week but then barged into his office dragging his little portable TV with him. "Brock Sterling is going to die." He had proclaimed.
"What? …that's tragic. Is this someone you know?"
"I've known Doctor Sterling for years."
"God, I'm so sorry, House. Is there anything …"
He shoved the TV in Wilson's face. "Do you think he's having trouble swallowing?"
Wilson stared blankly at the screen. An actor in full-on surgical garb pulled out a flask and took a heavy pull. "This is Doctor Sterling?"
"What about ataxia? His hand is kind of shaky, isn't it?"
"House, go to the ER. Find a real case."
"I need a high-def television. There's one in the doctor's lounge." Of course, Wilson didn't know when House walked out, that the man was going to commit six felonies before figuring out the case, but he chalked it up to House being House. Thankfully, the awkwardness passed and he was just too grateful things were back to normal. Wilson loved Amber. Wilson couldn't live without House. That sounded sort of flip-flopped but it was the natural order of things.
Weeks later when he received a phone call at the nurse's station in oncology, Wilson's heart sank when he heard that House had been in an accident. He rushed to ER to make certain his best friend was alright. Naturally, he was obsessing about the puzzle instead of his own symptoms. Even though Wilson had been on call all night, he stayed at the hospital all day to keep an eye on House. He was in a dangerously fixated mood. In the best of circumstances House ignored his own health for the sake of solving the puzzle. In the best of circumstances, House didn't have a fractured skull.
Walking in on House during a full-on hallucination had scared Wilson. He was surprised, however, when the man relented easily and went with him to the MRI suite.
"If you haven't found the bleed yet …"
"There's edema and localized swelling in the section of the temporal lobe that controls short-term memory. Also the penis size cortex is set to pathetic."
Wilson asked him more questions about what had happened during the hypnotic episode with Chase. He didn't understand why House was pushing himself to such limits. Was he self-destructive because of his feelings for Wilson? Was there anything that Wilson could do to save House from himself?
"Are you having muscle cramps." Wilson asked him.
"Your toes are curling."
House swiftly straightened out his toes.
"This is bad, House. This is really bad." Wilson was distracted from the toe-curling by the results of the MRI.
House, Wilson and Cuddy all decided the skull fracture was severe. Cuddy insisted he go home and rest and, of course, House insisted he would rest as soon as the puzzle was solved.
"Why, House. Why is this patient so important that suddenly you've become … Batman?"
"I don't know."
Of course, House didn't go home as ordered by Cuddy. Wilson followed him down to the empty cafeteria for a while, until he was paged back to Oncology. He seemed coherent, just fixated. Long years of experience told him House was a mountain and Wilson wasn't moving him anytime soon.
After he puked on Cuddy's shoes, Wilson and Chase manhandled House's unconscious form back to his apartment with direct orders to keep him there until the next morning. They settled him on the couch and Wilson sat in the nearby chair waiting for him to return to consciousness. After an hour, Wilson told Chase he could go. The borderline-suicide behavior had to stop which required a conversation not meant for everyone. Opening cans of worms was not Wilson's strong suit, especially when the topic was so difficult. He loved Amber. He wasn't sure what the hell he was actually going to do about House's feelings for him, but he knew he had to get House to at least admit to them. Nothing would be resolved unless the issues were put out there to deal with. He wasn't going to stand by and watch House slowly kill himself.
The moan from the couch captured Wilson's attention. He sat on the edge of the sofa and brought out his pen light. "House? Can you hear me?"
No response to the question but House brought his hand up to his face.
Wilson pulled the hands away and lifted an eyelid to shine the light directly at House's pupils. "Tell me what the date is, House?"
House batted the hands away. "Jeezus … stop …"
Wilson unclicked the pen light but captured his patient's face in a firm grasp. "Open your eyes and look at me?"
House reluctantly complied.
"What day is it?"
"Where are you?"
House looked around, confused. "My apartment, but …"
"Chase and I brought you here. Do you remember what happened?"
"Yes. I got flipped around like a marble in a box." House was losing his patience.
"Good. What's my name?"
Wilson smiled. "Don't even joke about that."
House tried to sit up only to be blocked by Wilson firmly pressing on his shoulders. "Wilson, I'm fine."
"No, actually, you have a skull fracture which, by definition, means you are not fine." He re-clicked his pen light and this time, was permitted to complete the neurological exam without complaint. "You are going to stay here until you have at least six hours of sleep."
"But, Dad! I'm not even tired."
"I mean it, House. Six hours. Minimum."
"How long have I already been asleep?"
"Two, but those don't count. Six more."
House rolled his eyes and went to rub his face with his hand when he noticed the IV fluids. "What's this?"
"You haven't eaten anything and you were vomiting. Just a little hydration."
"I wasn't vomiting. I vomit-ed … as in once."
"I'm going to keep the liter going until it's finished. You'll be napping anyway. I'll take it out when it's done."
Wilson helped House settle into his own bed, took his cell phone away and unplugged the house phone. Two hours later when he caught him in the bathroom talking to his team on Wilson's cell phone, he'd had enough.
"Hang up the damn phone!" He had been beating on the bathroom door when House finally emerged, smug look and all.
House handed the closed phone back to Wilson. "I did." He exited the bathroom as though he had nothing to feel guilty about.
"What the hell is with you, House? I don't get it. This guy is a complete stranger. Why are you risking your life for him? There has to be a reason and don't tell me it's just the puzzle. I've seen you obsess and I've seen you absolutely transfixed, but you do know your own limits and what you're doing now, the way you are pushing yourself is killing you! Why?"
House looked sheepish. "I honestly don't know." He stated calmly.
Wilson sighed. It was go for broke time. He knew it. House would continue this self-destructive behavior until he faced his feelings. "I remember a conversation we had about a woman that you were doing a differential on to prove she was in love with the brother-in-law instead of her husband. I, of course, was appalled. You can't diagnose love, but you had to prove me wrong. You explained that toe-curling came from the pleasure center of the brain and is elicited by things that make you feel good whether it's food, orgasm or being near to someone who elicits that emotion. You and I stood outside of the patient's room and watched. The husband came in and she would smile and interact … but when the brother-in-law came in, her toes curled. We watched, both of us and then you even called them out of the room, both of them and then let the brother-in-law back in. We watched her toes curl without the husband anywhere near the patient, thus proving that it was the brother-in-law she had feelings for, not her husband."
"I remember, Wilson. What's your point."
He stepped closer. He looked up into deep blue eyes. "The point is that your toes curl when you're with me. The point is that you like me."
House glared at the younger man.
The unfortunate timing of Cuddy's phone call interrupted the conversation. She needed him to come back to the hospital and stop the patient from dying. He did. But the case was nowhere near solved.
Wilson remembered being on that bus attempting to reenact the accident. House had taken a dangerous amount of Alzhiemers medication to stimulate his brain to remember what he was determined to remember, do or die. Dying was actually a very real possibility since House had coded on the mock bus drill. As he was pumping blood back through House's heart when he finally did collapse, he knew he would do anything, be anything House needed Wilson to be, if he would just live. Wilson could not live without him. He was Wilson's best friend and he could not contemplate how the earth would even have the audacity to keep spinning without House on it. When House finally woke with a gasp and kept saying Amber's name, he had no idea of the hurt he was about to face. And Amber had died anyway, even though the best diagnostician in the country was on her case. Even though he had sent his best friend to possibly sacrifice his own life to save hers.
House had stayed away for two months. No late night phone calls, no showing up with a beer and pizza, no talk of what had happened at House's apartment that day. Cameron and Cuddy visited regularly, made him casseroles—most of which he tossed after they left. Chase and Foreman had each come once, separately. His mother had visited and stayed a week. Among the multitude of well-wishers that had come forward, House's mom had called and offered condolences and politely and sincerely asked if there was anything she could do. He understood House did not do funerals, did not do polite, he even understood that, even though Wilson was his best friend, possibly his only friend, House just could not do feelings. And this was raw, this situation. Wilson was a mess. He slept with her pillow hugged tightly to himself. He half expected her to walk through the door any moment. He sprayed her perfume over himself and watched it waft down and land on his body and there, in those brief moments, he would close his eyes and pretend she was there. There were moments when absolutely nobody was around to occupy him so that thoughts of her, even weeks, a month, two months later, would come unbidden into his mind, crippling him with sadness.
House never came. Wilson needed him desperately and also hated him. He had arbitrarily decided he and House were no longer friends. Guilt, anger, grief and regret made him come to that conclusion on his own. Cameron, Cuddy, actually nobody that had come to see him over the time he had spent away, had discussed House at all. Wilson was sure that it was a subject best left untouched. It was complicated. It was House.
When House's father died, Cuddy had called him. He wanted so much to go to House, give him someone to lean on because he knew he had nobody else. It was a big deal, but since House didn't do feelings, he would revert to his usual stance—act like nothing happened and wait for it to blow over. When House's mom had called him and begged him to please make sure Greg made it to the funeral, he couldn't let her suffer for House's idiocy. He called Cuddy and they concocted a plan to drug House. Even when he and Chase were manhandling his limp body to Wilson's car, he still wasn't sure he was doing the right thing. Despite his outward stance, he knew he was doing it because he still cared and that he still loved House.
Things became normal once more. Normal as far as any relationship with House could ever get. Once Wilson had sold a prank on House that he was in love with a hooker who needed his help with law school tuition by invoking his dead girlfriend's name, the kid gloves were off and they started spending even more time together, became much more relaxed around each other again.
"Are you gay?" Wilson asked one night apropos of nothing. They had been sitting on the sofa, feet up, beers in hands, waiting for the Thai food to settle in their stomachs a bit more before finishing off their respective cartons.
Without missing a beat, House said, "Oh, I don't know. I guess I'm about as happy as the next guy."
Wilson tilted his head slightly, begging for a straight answer, so to speak. "Please … just answer the question."
"Does it matter?"
"I just … I thought I knew you."
"You do know me. I haven't changed. I'm still the insufferable bastard I've always been. Who I sleep with has nothing to do with that." He rolled his eyes and continued to watch the game.
"You sleep with women."
"I have slept with women, sure. I like sex."
"So you're … you're what? Bisexual then?"
"No, not really. Sex is not …" He sat on the edge of his seat intent on the current play. "Catch it! Catch it you ….AH….sonofabitch!" He glanced at his friend who was obviously not into the events on the screen. "Wilson, what difference does it make? I'm me, you're you. As long as we're not sleeping with each other, my sex life has nothing to do with our friendship."
"House … I think maybe it's time to talk about it."
House motioned at the television. "And you think the fourth quarter is the time to talk about … it? Whatever 'it' is?"
"It's not even a game. More like a massacre."
House sighed. "Fine." He clicked off the television and downed the rest of his beer. "What are we talking about?"
"You know what I mean."
"You can't even say what you mean, ergo, you are not ready to talk about what you mean."
Wilson sighed. "I'm talking about certain …feelings …you have for me …"
Taking advantage of Wilson's obvious discomfort, House dived in. "I have feelings of friendship, amity, comradeship. I also respect you as a colleague and hold you in great esteem. Not to mention being the co-collaborator on our many tales of hijinks …"
"I'm talking … about certain … sexual feelings."
House sighed, sometimes Wilson just would not allow himself to be distracted which was annoying. "Are you going to bring up the toe-curling again?"
"And the chemistry between us."
"What about it?"
"Are you being deliberately obtuse?"
House pulled himself off of the sofa. "I think I'm gonna need to drink something stronger for this conversation."
Wilson followed House into the kitchen. "I think it's important to get this out in the open."
"Funny, I thought it was important to sweep it under the rug."
"What d'ya mean why?" House was borderline frustrated. "My own attraction to you is really none of your business."
Wilson looked around as though he'd never been in the apartment before, attempting to explain House's words with a possible rift in the dimension he was living in. "Okay, wait … what you're saying is that you have sexual feelings for ME but that's none of my business?"
"On what planet does that …"
"Because it doesn't matter! You're not gay. I am. It doesn't matter because a) nothing will ever become of this and b) I know how to have guy friends without fucking them."
Wilson shivered and rubbed a hand over his face.
"See the thought of it appalls you, so don't bring it up again."
"Being appalled had nothing to do with it." Wilson promised.
"Look, …" House sighed. "There was a point, I don't know why, that I thought I might be attracted to you sexually. I had a crush on you. I'm sorry that I made it too apparent. The whole thing with Amber and her being the female version of me … it just … well it, apparently, kicked my ass. But I've had time to digest it all and you're my friend first and foremost. That's what is important to me. I promise, my actions, my friendship, my feelings for you, I have a lock on it. It's under control."
"So you think pretending it doesn't exist is the answer?"
House poured himself a drink and slammed it back. "Wilson, did you have a clue that I might even be gay before you busted me?"
"Exactly. I know what to do, how to act, what to say. Nobody has ever known about me. Well, me and my hookers. That's it."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
House shook his head. "It's not your business! Jeezus … do you go around announcing that you're hetero? It doesn't define me."
"We've known each other for a long time."
"And I've intimated that I'm comfortable having sex with men how many times over the years?"
"I thought you were joking."
"I … wasn't." House sighed. "Look, I've had friends. Guy friends that I thought could handle knowing – of course, this was a really, really loooong time ago—but they couldn't handle it. Things got strange and soon enough, they were gone. I wasn't taking that chance with you. Not with anyone else again. That part of me was private and nobody's business … I feel like I'm repeating myself …"
"Well, I know now."
"So now I make you feel uncomfortable? Then why hang out with me? You figured it out months ago. Obviously, it hasn't broken our friendship so why do this now?"
"Because …" Wilson swallowed, hard gathering his wits. "I think I want more."
House raised an eyebrow. "More what?"
Wilson reached over and grabbed House's hand. "Just … more."
House backed away as though he'd been burned. "No … Wilson, no you don't. You've been drinking. You're not thinking straight."
"No pun intended?"
"No, definitely no pun intended. You ARE straight."
"You don't know that. I know that I have feelings for you."
"So, I have feelings for you too, but that has nothing to do with what we're talking about here."
Wilson walked up to House steadily, determinedly. He backed him up against the counter and placed his hands on either side of his friend, staring into blue eyes.
"Wilson … don't. Just don't." House turned his head to avoid the eye contact.
Wilson moved in closer. "Can I kiss you?"
House shook his head. "Stop it." He said it softly, not sure if he even meant it.
"How do I know what I feel if I can't test it? I know I love you. I know how I feel around you. How do I know how deep that goes if I don't try?"
"Wilson, you did not wake up this morning to find yourself gay. It isn't a virus or a bacteria you catch and you would know way before you turned thirty-nine whether you were gay or not. This is … bromance on steroids … that's all."
"I'm not talking about being gay. I'm talking about my feelings for you. And I did NOT just wake up with those feelings today. I've thought about this … about you for a long time. Let me kiss you. This might be a moot point. If I feel nothing, then it's over. Case closed."
"You're not just talking about a peck. You're talking about a real kiss. If you test it and it isn't what you thought, how do we go back? God knows I'm not the biggest authority on relationships, but if there is one thing I know, it's that there is no moving backwards."
"If I feel nothing … which, by the way, I really doubt that will be the case, we erase this day, we don't mention it again and we go back as if it never happened."
"You're really not winning this argument. If you do, in fact, feel something, then what? We rent out the hospital chapel, order some flowers and live happily ever after? Contrary to popular belief, breeders really don't find fulfillment in gay relationships. Odd though it is to go against the natural order of things, but you can't fix the basics of who you are. Your DNA is just faulty. Sorry."
Wilson chuckled slightly, keeping eye contact. "What if this …" Wilson motioned between the two of them "… you and me, becomes something more? Something so special it transcends friendship."
"Do you think it will transcend DNA?"
"How in the hell do you know if I'm … DNA programmed to be a … a 'breeder' or be gay? You don't have any idea because I don't. What if we're just … meant to be together … more together?"
House looked skeptical and still refused to meet Wilson's eyes.
Finally, he met Wilson's brown eyes with his and nodded briefly, eyes wide, insecure. Trepidation evolved into mild panic as Wilson moved closer.
Wilson placed his hands on House's sides, not going for skin. Just resting comfortably against the soft t-shirt. He saw House close his eyes tightly and grasp the counter top he was leaning on. "Can you touch me … please."
House opened his eyes and brought his hands up to Wilson's hips. "I'm taller, my hands go lower than yours."
"Thus making me the girl?"
Wilson snickered. "We'll see." Fortified by the humor that was just 'them', Wilson leaned forward, closed his eyes and met soft lips. When House's lips responded to his and he felt the grip on the small of his back tighten, smashing body to body, Wilson advanced the kiss, easily parting House's lips to probe inside. It was electric. It was white-hot frission. It wasn't enough. What started off soft, tentative, quickly grew exponentially to nuclear proportions. Unbidden, he allowed his own hand to reach up and clamp onto the back of House's neck, further deepening the kiss. His other hand wrapped tightly in the soft t-shirt material on House's side. He felt his hips thrust forward into House's. Dear God! If he knew he loved this man before, couldn't live without him before, he was absolutely and unquestionably gone for this man now on so many levels.
"Wilson?" House mumbled through the kiss
"hmm …" He could feel the hardness at crotch level for both of them. Pelvic thrust met pelvic thrust. Kisses traveled from mouth to neck to face, each pulling the other toward them.
"Wilson … stop."
"uh uh …" He clamped his hand around House's neck even tighter, demanding more.
Finally, House pulled back with definite purpose, pulling Wilson's hand away from his neck. "Wilson, stop."
Wilson, gasping for breath, looked confused. "What? Why?"
House was just as short of breath. He sighed heavily. "Because I'm kicking you out."
Wilson looked like a kicked puppy. "You're not serious? I … I think the experiment was … successful." He pushed his own hardness once more against House's.
"All the more reason for you to leave."
Wilson took a deep breath and let it out. He took a step back, letting go of the t-shirt and breaking away from House's grip. "I'm gonna love to hear that reasoning, I'm sure."
"Wilson, you don't know what you want."
He gestured toward his pelvic areas. "I beg to differ …"
"One hot kiss after you've been celibate for … how long?"
"What difference does it make? This was you and me. I'm obviously attracted to you so …"
"It doesn't mean anything, Wilson. You're not gay."
"Well, I know what being gay means. You do not. You may not think you're confused at the moment because your dick is hard and because me, a guy, made that happen. It was only chemistry and friction. That's it. It doesn't mean your dick won't ever become hard around the ladies ever again. I'm sure the fourth Mrs Wilson is picking out her honeymoon lingerie as we speak."
"This is different … it's you …"
"Yes, me. Your best friend. It's my job to protect you from assholes like me. Do you really think I'd take you to bed with me on a heat-of-the-moment thing? BAM—you're gay now! Yippee, now we fuck? That's not how it works."
"Yes, because you spend so much time courting the people you take to your bed."
"I don't court hookers or one-night-stands! Do you think you would fall into either one of those categories?"
Wilson shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Of course not … I …"
"You're horny. You're very confused. It's not happening. I'm not losing you."
"Wait a minute …" Wilson put up his hands in surrender. "Just think about it for a second. Okay, sure, it might be bad, but if you think about it, it could be the most amazing, knock-it-out-of-the-ballpark, homerun, once-in-a-lifetime thing."
House sighed. "It could also go horribly wrong." House took a couple of steps away. He needed some space. "You think you won't ever cheat on me with a woman because … what? Because it's me? Trust me, I can't fix the nature of who you are. I can't compete with that, ever. Some cute little nurse who has such a hard time adjusting to life as an oncology nurse will need you and you'll be there. And you'll walk her down the aisle, business as usual. And that is how it should be. It's natural, it's what should happen because that's who you are. It's what you do and that's okay. I accept that you are and always will be a heterosexual man-whore who likes to get married."
"That's not fair."
"What's not fair? You were attracted to each and every one of your wives, you loved every one of them. Yet you cheated. The women you chose give you their vulnerability and neediness that I never would. Eventually you would need to be needed and you would find it or it would find you like a damn heat-seeking missile and I would never be able to forgive that, Wilson. Not ever. And then our friendship, that both of us depend on, would be lost."
"Maybe, just maybe, I cheated because none of them could've ever given me what I really wanted. With Amber … she … she didn't need me. I really think I would have stayed married to her forever … I know, I know, I'm not proving my case. I am saying that I've changed. She did change me."
House sighed, again. "I don't think she made you gay, Wilson."
"No, I don't think so either. But she did make me realize things about myself and that time is short and that I shouldn't deny how I feel."
"So, now you're a repressed homo?"
Wilson pushed House backwards a step. "Will you quit being so fucking stubborn."
"I'm not being stubborn. You've never been attracted to men in your entire life."
"You don't know that."
"Yes, I do."
Wilson sighed. Poured himself a drink and downed it quickly. He poured two more drinks and slid one toward House. They both downed them. "When Amber died, I thought I would never claw my way out of the soul-crushing misery. But, I've seen you dead or near dead, way too many times than I should have and even though that sorrow has, thankfully, never taken up residence long enough to crush me, it has given me thought. It has made me think about what I would feel if you weren't there. You're important to me, House. Way more important than my best buddy. Way more important than my own life. I want it to be more and I know that it can be more." He turned to face House, look him in the eye. "I know it will be different because you don't need me. It's different because we started as friends so it won't be a bedroom-only relationship. It'll work because we save each other."
House shifted his weight and sighed. "I … I don't think we're doing this right. I don't want you to change who you are for me. I never will for you."
"I'm not expecting you too. You're not changing me. I've … changed though. You didn't do it but I have … we have changed. Things already are different."
"Do you understand …" House sighed in frustration and poured himself another drink and sipped it this time. "Have you ever had anal sex?"
Wilson blushed and shook his head.
"Not even in college, not with your wives, not even a finger?"
"We … we played, but no. Never."
"I can't be your first." House grabbed his cane and headed back toward the living room.
Wilson smiled at the apparent hint that he might actually be open, maybe… but then he realized what House had said and shook his head. "What? Why?"
House turned back to face him. "Because it's a big deal, that's why!" House leered at his friend heedless of how intense his gaze.
"Yea … I figured that …"
House shook his head. "I can't be the one … it will change how you think about yourself."
"Is that what happened to you? Did it change you?"
"No, of course not. I've known about myself since I was a kid. Did I have questions, fears, insecurities, doubts? Yes, but I've always known and once I figured out … the … ins and outs, so to speak, well, it was just a package deal."
"Okay, so I'm a late starter. I'll figure it out."
"It's not that simple. You're already programmed. Taking it up the ass is something queer boys do, right? How can a real man let someone do that? How does a real man give himself to someone like that?"
Wilson tried desperately to not look shell shocked. He hadn't given the physical aspect of it much thought. "How many … have you …"
House shook his head. "It doesn't matter. The point is that I am a man and I fuck men. The point is that I like to be fucked by men. I do not think of myself as less of a man because of those things. You have always been with women. When you're inside of a woman, no matter how raw it is, even if she thinks she's in charge, she still opens herself up for you. She's the vulnerable one and you are a solid brick wall. Now you think you're ready to switch teams and I don't think you've thought it through. The physical aspect is important."
Wilson hung his head.
"What if you absolutely hate it and cannot imagine spending the rest of your life having sex that way? Sex is a very important aspect of a relationship. I can't be your first because if you decide this was a bad idea at some point, it can't be me that you blame. We might be able to have a do-over after one kiss, but not after that. No way. Sex changes everything."
"If you're appalled at the thought of anal sex …"
"I'm not appalled." Wilson sighed. "Quit saying that." He said quietly.
"If you're appalled at the thought of anal sex, if you can't do that as the fucker AND the fuckee, this won't work. I'm going to want to fuck you and I won't do without it."
Wilson nodded. "I … realize that."
House harrumphed. "No you don't."
"How did this happen? I was calling you out on having the hots for me and now I'm begging you to fuck me? How does that work?"
"Wilson, go home."
"And what? We act like nothing happened? Business as usual?"
"I think that's the best call."
"I think that's a chicken shit call."
"I can't …"
"Well, you are gonna lose me. You take a chance with everything else in your life. Why not with me? If it can be more, be better, why the hell not?" Wilson knew it was playing dirty, but he moved in closer, placed a hand on House's stubbly jaw with his left hand and sought skin, rubbing his side with his right thumb at House's side. "Tell me you don't feel how good this can be." The white-hot frission took hold once again and he could feel House melting under his touch.
House couldn't stop the kiss. He had no will to stop it. He placed his hands around Wilson's waist. There was no battling of tongues; it was just a mutual, lusty probing, pushing, pulling, combining. Regardless of how long it was, it stopped too soon. They stepped apart, still holding on to each other.
"Dare I say it, but … I think you still might be attracted to me." Wilson smiled.
"If Foreman kissed me like that, I'd spike wood."
"You're determined to not let this go?"
Wilson thought for a moment. "I'm determined to see where this could go."
House nodded. "Fine." He said cautiously. "Then I've got some homework for you."
"You're still sending me home?"
"Yes." House released his hold and limped into the living room rifling through his DVD collection. He made an 'ah-ha' gesture as he pulled out what he was looking for triumphantly. "Take these home. Watch them." He handed the DVDs to Wilson who took them with curiosity. "Six hours of pure man-on-man action. See if it makes your special place tingly."
"Watching porn is my homework?"
"Not just any porn. Gay porn."
Embarrassed, Wilson nodded slowly. "The purpose of this is to …what?"
"Purely educational. I'm not even sure you know what anal sex is."
"House, I am a doctor. I know what it is."
"… or if you even have a gay recessive gene that we can exploit, but we are not jumping in head first." House led him to the front door. "Also, try jacking off to thoughts of men … or of me … maybe in the shower or whenever."
"What?" He sighed. "I'm not being unreasonable. You wanna have a sexual relationship with me but you've never even seen a naked man in a sexual situation. You need some experience. I'm trying here, Wilson. I really am. But you blush every time I say 'gay' or 'penis' or 'sex'. You're not ready."
Wilson nodded. "You haven't even said penis."
"Okay, true. But you blushed when I said anal sex."
"Okay, okay. I'll watch. I'll …"
"Jack off. Say it with me, Jimmy."
"I'll Jack off, smartass."
"There ya go. Knew you had it in you." House opened the front door and Wilson grabbed his jacket and exited, carrying his homework with him. "Let me know how it goes." He yelled to Wilson's retreating form. "And don't forget the lube."
Wilson rolled his eyes but smiled too. The man was nuts. Absolutely certifiable.
House blasted through Wilson's office door in typical House-fashion the next day. "Watch any good movies lately." He asked much louder than was necessary before he kicked the door shut.
"I thought you had a patient."
"I do. So what." He let the silence hang for a moment. "No, seriously, have you watched any good movies lately?"
Wilson hung his head, diving back into the file on his desk. "I didn't get a chance last night. My mom called."
House nodded slowly. "Right. As she always does at ten o'clock at night on a Tuesday."
"It was only eight her time."
"True. I assume, however, that she knows of the time difference between your house and hers. I also assume she knows you're a doctor. Doctors typically get up at a very early hour … people dying and all that clinical mumbo jumbo."
"House." Wilson sighed frustratedly.
"Okay." House gave Wilson a tight-lipped smile. "Understood." He limped toward the door. "I heard they were handing out gay cootie spray. Sure glad you got your hands on some of that before you became gay for more than two hours. Did you know if you go to sleep gay on a full moon, the curse will stick? That would've sucked!" He had his hand on the doorknob when Wilson's plea made him stop in his tracks.
"Please." Wilson sighed. He turned in his chair and took a deep breath before standing up and moving toward his friend. "House, please. I can't … I have to have real feelings for … porn has never … done it for me. If you recall, I don't do casual. I marry everyone."
House smiled. "Or cheat."
"It's never been cheap, House. I've always had a genuine, personal interest. It's always been about feelings."
"Did you watch it at all?"
House eyed him skeptically. "Yes you did."
"I won't hold it against you if it scared you."
Wilson grabbed House's arm and sighed in relief. "It scared the hell out of me."
House nodded. "That would be because it's scary."
House grabbed his chin and tilted it up to meet his eyes. "It's also intense and amazing and …" He kissed Wilson's lips softly, "… and beautiful."
Wilson nodded. "Yeah."
House took a step back. "Anything else to report?"
Determined not to blush like a 15-year-old girl, Wilson nodded. "Yes. Jacking off to thoughts of you in the shower with me … actually while I was physically in the shower last night, was quite successful." He smiled. "Copiously successful." Wilson shrugged. "But I already knew that would be."
"You've fantasized about me before?"
"Oh yea. Like I said. I've had a long time to think about you … about us."
House smiled. "Nice. Was I doing you or were you doing me?"
"Last night? Both. Started off me doing you but then I flipped us for the finale."
"And you're okay with that?"
Wilson nodded emphatically. "I'm absolutely fine with it."
"Well, aren't you the star pupil." House shifted his weight. "Want some company tonight?"
"Cool." House smiled and retreated back to his office.
The doorbell rang promptly at 8pm. Smiling, Wilson opened the door expecting to see House. "Oh, hello. Can I help you?"
"I'm Ben." He flashed a brilliantly white smile and leaned on the doorframe casually. "You're Wilson, right?"
"How …" He eyed the man up and down once more. He was gorgeous. Way too gorgeous for normal people. Smoldering eyes, perfect hair, perfect lips and judging quickly, he was sure he had a rock hard body and a penis with the perfect length and girth as most hookers and/or strippers do. "Sonofa … House!" Wilson sighed running his hand over his face. He peeked out into the hallway to make sure nobody was nearby. "Look, I'm not going to be needing your services tonight. Have you already been paid?"
Ben stepped closer into Wilson's personal space. "He said you'd try to blow me off. He also said I should be…persistent." He stepped inside and shut the door behind him.
Panic took hold of Wilson quickly. His voice was shaky. "He…he said to …"
"Hey, hold up." Ben put his hands up in the universal gesture of "I come in peace." "Wilson, relax. Take a breath. I'm not gonna hurt you."
Wilson nodded stiffly trying to collect himself. House would never … well, actually he didn't know House's hooker standards at all, but he had to assume he wouldn't put him in danger.
"Let's sit down, okay?"
"Yea,yea … sure. C…come in." Wilson stuttered.
Ben actually led Wilson, obviously shaken, into the living room. Wilson plopped himself safely into an armchair leaving Ben to have the sofa to himself.
"No, I'm good. Thanks."
Wilson shifted in his seat in obvious discomfort. "So, House sent you to …"
"Have sex with you, yes." Ben sat back and appreciated the sight before him. Too many times he was sent to have sex with people who were way too old, fat or ugly. This job definitely sucked a lot less than usual. He took in the bare feet, nice-fitting jeans, cheezy-looking polo, but hey, what was underneath of the polo was in good shape, so he was not upset about that.
Wilson nodded. His gaze shifted from a very fascinating spot on the hard wood floor up to Ben. He was a good-looking man. Probably early 30s, blue eyes, not as blue as House's but still very intense. Short, brown hair with just the right amount of product in it to make it look purposely messy, sculpted facial features. His black Henley wasn't too tight but fit just tight enough he could appreciate the pecs underneath. His biceps were easily appreciable even though they were hidden by sleeves.
"Is it okay if I take this off?" Ben pulled at the collar of his shirt.
Wilson quirked an eyebrow.
"I mean if you're gonna stare..."
Wilson flicked his wrist and nodded and might have said "yes" but more likely it sounded like "nnnguh."
Ben sat in silence across from Wilson, allowing the obviously uncomfortable man to become more acclimated to his presence. He attempted small talk. "Have you lived around here for a while?"
Wilson nodded his head.
"Okay. Married, have any kids?"
Wilson shook his head.
Ben stood up and grabbed for his belt. "We don't have to talk at all if you …"
Wilson jumped to his feet, stammered something barely intelligible which Ben quickly translated to an offering of refreshments, again. Actually he thought he also heard him offer some bruschetta and Muscato as well as ice water, ice cream, coffee or soda pop. He accepted the offer of ice water and sat back down flipping his phone out and sending a quick text to his regular client while Wilson had taken off to the kitchen.
BEN4U-pretty cold in here
FLAMINCANE-thaw him out
BEN4U-dude is wound tighter than a gnats ass
When Ben heard a loud crash and a "Oh son-of-a…!" from the kitchen, he looked over to see two glasses fly through the air and Wilson fall backwards onto the floor. The distinct sound of bone cracking made Ben flinch and he silently prayed Wilson was still alive and breathing and awake before he bolted off the couch to help him.
"Oh fuck!" He crouched down next to the unconscious man and tapped him gently on the shoulder. "Hey man, you okay?" He silently panicked as he noted a few cuts from the broken glass on Wilson's arm and head. Fuck Fuck Fuck. He remembered the old guy. He was a doctor. Quickly he dialed the number and waited for an answer.
The familiar deep voice answered on the second ring. "I don't think you're paying attention to the right person, Ben."
"House, he's unconscious … he fell … and there's blood and he won't wake up, man. Should I call an ambulance?"
"Is there blood coming from his head?"
Ben quickly assessed where the blood was. "No, not from the back of his head. There's glass in his forehead. That cut is bleeding pretty good. Arms mostly."
Ben was distracted by Wilson's groaning. "What the …"
"Ben, listen to me." House insisted.
"Don't let him get up. I'm on my way."
Ben pushed Wilson's shoulders back against the cold floor, much to Wilson's discomfort.
"Ask him what day it is."
"House says I should ask you what day it is."
Wilson moaned taking stock in his own condition, mentally tabulating his injuries and berating himself for being an idiot. "You're talking to House right now?"
"Tell him it's Friday, I know my fucking name and … just … fuck."
"I heard. Don't call an ambulance. I'm five minutes away. Put a blanket over him and do not let him move. I mean it, Ben. He is not to move off of the floor."
"Got it." Ben slid his phone closed to end the call. "He says to make you stay put."
"That isn't necessary. I'm fine."
"He was pretty insistent that I not let you up and I'm prepared to lay on top of you to make that happen."
"He's on his way, I take it?"
"Less than five minutes."
"It's a safer bet he's less than two minutes out."
"He said I should put a blanket over you."
"You don't need to, I'm not in shock."
"House said I should. Will you stay here while I get one or are you going to stand up as soon as I turn my back on you?"
"I really feel like an idiot, Ben. I would love to get off this floor and have a little dignity when my boyfriend walks through the door."
"I get it, man. I do, but I think your health is a bit more important than your dignity and if he's your boyfriend, I think he'd understand your safety a lot more than he'd understand your loss of dignity."
"Oh … yeah, that would be great if that were true."
Ben resigned himself to the fact that there was no way he would trust Wilson to not stand up the second he was out of the room so he abandoned the idea of the blanket figuring it was more important he stay on the floor. "He's your boyfriend, huh?"
"Actually, no. Not really. We're …it's complicated."
"I get it."
"Good, can you explain it to me then?"
Ben quickly cleaned the area of all of the free fallen glass and soaked up the water with a dishtowel.
"I'm sorry … about tonight. Maybe he promised you a bonus, or whatever. I … it just wasn't going to happen anyway. But we could have gotten our stories straight and worked all that out."
"No big deal." Ben parked himself on the floor next to Wilson, leaning on the counter.
"You did a good job."
"All the …the, uh… charming … and the … the body." Wilson nodded in appreciation. "Good job on that."
He was interrupted by a familiar, gruff voice. "Oh, will you stop! Your head is probably pounding, you're bleeding, lying on a cold floor and you're worried about how the hooker feels?" Ben got out of his way as House knelt down, requisite pen light in hand. "I think he'll get over it without a marriage proposal." He looked up toward said hooker. "How long was he out?"
"Not long, about a minute or two."
House nodded. Turning back toward his patient, he asked, "Do you remember what happened?"
"I slid barefoot on some ice, my feet came out from underneath me and I fell backward."
"Did your head hit first?"
Wilson shifted on the cold, hard floor and hissed in pain. "No, I'd say my hip hit first."
"Good. Your hip can take more impact than your head. Any neck pain, headache?"
"Yeah, I have a headache. No my neck doesn't hurt."
"What else hurts?"
"I'm okay, House. I just wanna get up."
"I know. We'll help you up in a minute. Let me finish looking at you first."
Wilson was struck stupid by House's amazingly compassionate touches and soothing words. It made him feel comforted by his best friend which was uncharted territory.
House began unfastening Wilson's belt. He stopped when Wilson put his hands on House's. "I need to look at your hip."
Wilson moved his hands.
"Can you roll over a bit?" House pushed the jeans down, moving his boxers along the way as well exposing a good amount of flesh. House whistled. "Wow, that is going to be a big bruise. Can you move your leg?"
"I think so." Wilson demonstrated that he could move it by lifting his leg and extending and bending it. It took effort and he winced in pain, but he could complete the task.
House finished his exam and looked back to Ben who was staring intently. "If I could trouble you to put a shirt on, can you please help me stand him up and then get him back down to his car?"
"Because, I'd bet money you have at least a concussion and I want to rule out a bleed."
"You told Ben I didn't have to go to the hospital."
"No, I told him not to call an ambulance."
"House, I don't …"
"Oh, no you don't. I shouldn't have to blackmail you into getting medical attention. Remember that? Take your own advice."
"You're not my doctor." Wilson said softly, feeling like his own idiocy was just being irritatingly confounded.
"I don't think your GP does housecalls, does he? If you'd rather, I can call an ambulance, you can go to ER where the ER doc can eventually see you at some point tonight, he'll do a CT at some point and then probably send you home. You might be home by six tomorrow morning and doctor McDreamy still will have not laid one eye on you the entire time. Me or ambulance?"
"You're just gonna take me to CT, right?"
"Wilson, I'm going to x-ray your hip and stitch you up too."
"Yes, but if the CT is negative, I get to come home? No inpatient observation?"
"Good boy, Jimmy."
House stood and offered a hand to Wilson. He rose up off of the floor but nearly went down again when he put pressure on his sore hip. Ben and House both dove in to help.
Wilson cringed in pain then suddenly dove for the sink mindless of the pain it caused, and promptly emptied his stomach contents.
"I think you have a concussion."
Wilson heaved but shook his head in disagreement. The worst over, he turned on the water and rinsed his mouth out. "Pain can cause nausea."
"I'm still going with concussion. Dizzy?"
Wilson used a nearby dish towel to wipe his mouth. He was contemplating how truthful he really wanted to be and what repercussions there might be in the end. In case he really did have a concussion, it was probably better to just be truthful. Besides, House probably knows the answer. "Yeah, a little."
House rubbed his back. "I know."
Wilson nodded. "Let's get this over with." Slowly he came to his full height again, adding pressure slowly, he let his left foot back onto the floor until he could be upright and weight-bearing. Once he steadied himself, he shooed away his help. "I'm fine … I'm fine." With a heavy limp, he made his way out of the kitchen.
"Hey, Kettle! You're black!"
"This just feels so familiar to me … but wait a minute … yes, that's right. It was me saying I was fine and you giving me no choice but to accept the help. Sound familiar?"
"uh…I really am …"
"Ah …" House stuck his finger in Wilson's face, warning him about arguing. "Me or ambulance?"
House looked at Ben and motioned toward Wilson. Ben quickly took up his position on Wilson's side, sliding the injured man's arm around his shoulders.
Ben looked back toward House. "Should I pick him up and carry him?"
"Jeezus fuck … House, if you say 'yes' to that, I will kill you in your sleep, I swear." Wilson looked at Ben. "I don't suppose it would matter if I said 'no' right?"
Ben shook his head and gave Wilson a look something of a cross between pity and concern.
House grabbed a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and closed it, smirking. "I really want to say yes though. Not because I think you need it medically, but because I would love to tease you relentlessly about it for the next decade."
"I mean it House. In your sleep. You'll wake up DEAD."
"I guess I won't point out the obvious …"
"Shut up, House." Wilson slipped into his loafers that were sitting by the door on their way out.
House laughed and led them down to Wilson's car, shutting the door and grabbing the keys as they left Wilson's apartment.
Wilson laid on a cold exam table, listing to the right side trying to stay off of his sore left hip. He was glad House thought of the frozen peas to keep the swelling down and even though he now had a proper ice pack to the area, it was still pretty sore. The pieces of glass had been extricated from his skin on his arm and left side and one particularly nasty one on his forehead. Most only needed steri-strips but House had thoroughly cleaned him up himself and stitched some that were more deeply cut, like his elbow and his forehead. His hip x-ray was negative. He was glad he wouldn't have to get by on crutches or see an orthopedic surgeon. Just a bruise. It would heal on its own. Even though House had done the CT himself and knew exactly what it showed, he had left to "get the results" and came in snapping a CT film up onto the light box. He was wearing a lab coat.
"Why are you wearing that?"
House looked at the coat. "What? This? It makes me look all doctory. Don't want to get our roles confused here."
Wilson rolled his eyes. "Fine, yes, I get it. You're the mighty doctor. I'm the patient. I will bend to your will. What did the CT show?"
"You're gonna need round-the-clock care for the next twenty-four hours."
"Yikes, that means it's pretty bad, huh?" Ben asked.
Wilson looked over to the chair in astonishment. He'd forgotten the man was still in the room. Wilson wondered what the hell Ben was still doing there. "No, it means House is an ass."
"Am not. I'm a doctor and I have the coat to prove it so whatever I say …"
Wilson looked over at the CT film himself. "It's negative."
"eh eh eh….you can't see from over there in the patient area AND …" He turned off the light on the box. " … you don't have a white coat. I do." He pulled a syringe from the pocket of his lab coat. "Turn over."
"Toradol." House grabbed Wilson's belt, working it open.
Wilson grabbed his hand. "I don't need anything for pain, House."
House batted Wilson's hands away and continued to loosen the man's pants. "Yes, that's why you've been avoiding lying on your sore hip. No pain at all. Right?"
Wilson sighed, moved the ice pack and shifted gingerly to his other side and held his weight there while House moved his clothing, exposing a hip.
"Big poke." House warned before Wilson felt the needle enter his skin. He couldn't help the flinch at first but then sighed and waited for it to be over. He noticed Ben again, sitting in the chair next to the exam table. Why in the hell was he still there?
"While we're in the area, let me take another look at it." House moved to the other side of the exam table and pulled at the clothing covering Wilson's damaged hip.
Wilson rolled his eyes and moved to comply. Ben leaning in closer for a good look himself, had Wilson feeling a bit exposed and uncomfortable, but decided that seeming like a prude to these two men would not help, he rolled once again to expose the area while House pulled at his jeans and boxers. He hissed as House prodded the area but it was over quickly.
"Okay. I think we're done here." House announced righting Wilson's clothing and fastening the jeans and belt in place himself.
A couple of steri-strips, stitches to his forehead and elbow, a couple of band-aids on his left arm, a CT, an x-ray, a pain shot and an ice-pack later, Wilson was ready to go home.
"You'll stay the night with me tonight. You have a concussion so I'll keep an eye on you."
Begrudgingly, Wilson agreed. It was better than being in the hospital all night and if he must spend the entire night with the man he loved, he thought that probably wasn't such a bad deal.
Ben made himself useful again, being Wilson's crutch. Not that Wilson thought he needed him, but House insisted upon the assistance and it was just easier than arguing, especially when House was wearing that stupid coat. Wilson quickly recognized that the coat House was actually wearing was, in fact, his own coat. Great.
House led Ben and Wilson through the door of his apartment and over to the couch. "Let's get him comfortable here. It'll be easier to see the TV if his head is on this side." House pointed and directed then went into the kitchen to grab Wilson an ice water, setting it on the coffee table well within Wilson's grasp.
"No problem. Any pain?"
"Just feels like a bruise. I'll be fine. No headache." Wilson settled in laying down and pulling the blanket over himself.
"Good. Can I get you anything?"
"No." Wilson looked back to Ben again. The clue bus finally hit him. Ben was there to sleep with House! Fucking … sonofafuckingbitch! He couldn't stop the hurt that pushed its way into his facial expression.
"What's the matter?"
Wilson glared. "Are you kidding me?"
"What are you talking about?"
"You're going to fuck him tonight, aren't you?"
House nodded to Ben, who made himself scarce by finding his way down the hall to House's bedroom as though the journey was completely familiar.
"Don't. Just don't, House. Please."
House sat down on the edge of the sofa and placed a hand softly onto Wilson's chest. "Hey, what are you so upset about? I'm not celibate. I think you know that."
"I just … I thought …" He turned his head. "Nevermind." He moved to sit up. "Actually, I'll call a cab and check myself into the hospital for the night. At least I know the nurse's there actually give a shit."
House pushed him back into the sofa. "Don't do that. I'm not good at this. You know that." He sounded irritated. "If you have something to say, say it. Don't assume I know and don't play games."
"Really? You can't guess that I might just be upset that the man I'm in love with is in the next room fucking someone else? You can't guess that?" He raised his hand to his head accidently smacking into the sore spot and winced. Frustrated, he sighed. "This has been one of the most idiotic, humiliating days of my life. I would just really appreciate it if you would not make it the worst day of my life." He squeezed his eyes shut, not even knowing what to expect. House was an opportunist and he obviously wasn't interested in sleeping with him nor was he into niceties and worrying about what everyone else thought or felt. He was shocked when he heard House's answer.
"Okay then." He stood up and made his way back to the bedroom.
Wilson sat up and waited. Okay then? What the …?
The bedroom door opened up again and Ben made his way down the hall, carrying his shoes. "Good luck, Wilson."
Wilson nodded to the man as he left and closed the door behind him.
A moment later House stood in the hallway. "You coming?"
"Wha … I'm sleeping in your bed?"
"Well, yea. If I'm not getting laid, there's no point in me having to trek down the hall every two hours."
Wilson beamed and grabbed up his blanket quickly. "True enough."
"I'm not smirking."
House closed the bedroom door. "You want some pajama pants?"
"That would be good." Wilson undid he jeans and belt and slid them down as best as he could, leaving his boxers in place. He noticed House was watching him but he didn't care. He had a hard time bending over enough to get the pants off without sending new bolts of pain from his bruised hip.
"Sit down." House commanded. Wilson's jeans were pulled off and discarded and the pajama pants were pulled on. Wilson stood expecting to be left to pull them up all the way himself but was surprised when House didn't relinquish the task. If he felt House take a few extra seconds, lingering on skin just at the waistband of said pajama pants, well then so be it. He felt the material of both his boxers and the pants being shoved down on his left side for House to peer at his hip
"Let me take another look." He prodded the area. "It's a bit more purple, but not any bigger than it was. Just a bruise. You're fine." House walked toward his side of the bed.
"Yeah … it's just sore. No big deal."
Wilson started to pull at the polo shirt he had on. He could sleep in it if he wanted to but men sleep shirtless all the time. No big deal. He swiftly pulled it up and over his head and then tossed it, nonchalant, onto a nearby chair. He didn't even fold it first. He smiled surreptitiously when he heard a groan coming from House. With a self-satisfied air, he climbed onto the side of the bed that was obviously not House's and got under the covers.
"You're gonna sleep like that?"
House shook his head. "Nothin'. It's fine with me." He turned to his alarm clock and started pushing buttons. "I'm setting this for every two hours. You know the drill. If you're not in a coma when the alarm goes off, start talking. Otherwise … well, I guess otherwise, you're in a coma in which case I guess that's my problem." He gave Wilson a tight-lipped smile. "Understood?"
"Yep, got it." Wilson smiled and snuggled under the covers. When House got into the bed, Wilson snuggled closer to him, finally ending up on his side, facing House and tangling his leg with House's.
House turned onto his side. "You know you said you were in love with me, right?"
Wilson didn't hesitate. "Yep, I know."
"It's not going to work."
"You're not seducing me."
"I suppose you want me to put my arm around you so you can snuggle into my chest."
"That'd be nice. Unless you'd rather snuggle into mine?"
"Yeah, right." House lifted his arm and Wilson moved closer, relishing the feel of coarse hair rubbing against his face, of strong muscle instead of soft curve.
"No you cannot play with my chest hair. I put on a t-shirt for a reason."
"You can play with mine if you want."
"No, thanks." House's arm finally went around Wilson's shoulders and settled on top of his arm.
Wilson looked up. "I suppose you wanna kiss me now."
House turned his head. His internal struggle was apparent for a moment but finally, he relented. "That'd be nice."
Wilson smiled and then found it difficult to maintain the smile as House's lips came against his, his tongue seeking entrance. Easily they found a slow rhythm, mingling with each other, deepening the kiss. Wilson moved more on top of House than to the side of him, grinding into him. Hips meeting hips, cock meeting cock. The urgency lent itself to moral imperative as they moved together, thrusting, touching, needing more. House ended the kiss but closed his arms around Wilson, bringing them closer, tighter up against one another. Wilson kissed House's neck, clavicle and sought nipple through the t-shirt House was wearing. He sighed somewhat disappointed at the barrier between them.
"Wilson … wait, wait … Wilson …"
"I'm going to take you back to the hospital myself if you don't stop."
Wilson sighed and let himself sag back into his previous position snuggled into House's chest. "You're still not going to make love to me until I've slept with someone else are you?"
House looked into Wilson's eyes determinedly. "No, I'm really not." He squeezed him tighter. "I knew you'd pick a Lifetime TV way to say 'fuck'."
House woke him every two hours and Wilson spouted off the answers to the requisite questions to establishing his level of consciousness. The sleep was interrupted but they had slept well, snuggled warmly in each other's arms. Wilson stayed the weekend, not by invitation but by House casually tossing out things they should do that weekend during conversation at breakfast. They stopped by Wilson's apartment to pack a bag early Saturday morning. The weekend went by friends as usual. The only lustful glances as far as Wilson knew were his own toward House. Saturday they went to a car show at the convention center and Sunday they spent the day being lazy around the apartment, watching monster truck shows, ESPN and Animal Planet. Wilson made steaks, baked potatoes and a salad Sunday evening and both men were disappointed that they hadn't thought about dessert while they were at the grocery store picking up the steaks earlier.
Four days later, Wilson caught House between patients at the clinic.
"Can I be your next patient? These stitches are itching like crazy and I can't reach them." Wilson was attempting to scratch at his elbow through the lab coat he wore.
"Sure. Come into my parlor."
"Said the spider to the fly." Wilson's limp had gotten nearly imperceptible as the area healed. Wilson shed his lab coat and folded it over the visitor chair. It still took more effort than usual to get himself up onto the table.
"Want me to look at your hip while we're here?"
"I want you to look at all you want with me as naked as you want. BUT I also want you naked … and definitely not here."
House smiled and raised an eyebrow as he settled onto a stool in front of Wilson.
"So, in answer to your question, no, I do not need you to look at my hip." Wilson started to roll up his sleeve to expose his elbow.
"Actually, go ahead and take off your shirt. I want a look at the areas on your side as well."
"No you don't." Wilson undid his tie. "You want to see my naked skin. You like my naked skin." He threw his tie aside and started on the buttons.
"Never said I didn't like your naked skin. Just said I wasn't going to fuck your naked skin until …"
"Until I find someone else to fuck me first. Yeah, yeah, I think I got it." Wilson was becoming more frustrated. He tossed his shirt behind him on the exam table and sighed waiting for House to lay his hands on him.
House moved closer, palpated the wounded areas and assessed their appearance one by one. "You're mad." It was a statement, not a question.
Wilson shook his head. "No, I'm not mad." His voice sounded more defeated than angry and frustrated. "I understand."
"Okay. Then what's the problem?" House pulled out a suture removal kit and manipulated Wilson's arm in the position he needed it to be in order to remove the sutures.
Wilson smirked. "Just horny I guess." He smiled and hopefully relieved some tension in the room. He honestly had no intention of instigating House in a debate.
"Then, by all means, get laid." House announced with detached ease.
Wilson could not wrap his head around how easily the thought of Wilson in someone else's arms, with someone else's appendages finding their way near or in him, had no effect on House whatsoever. The thought of someone touching House or hell, even looking at him funny, sent a jolt of teeth-clattering possessiveness over Wilson that would send him through the roof. He had just about gone ape-shit crazy on Ben the previous weekend and had no intention of repeating that scenario.
House finished taking out the sutures on his elbow and put on a band-aid to keep it covered. He moved up to the wound on Wilson's face. Wilson moved away and grabbed his shirt, pulling it on hastily, feeling more exposed than he wanted to be at the moment.
"I can take those out. I can see them just fine in the mirror." He pointed to his forehead.
"Wilson, sit down. It'll only take me a second."
Wilson finished buttoning his shirt and haphazardly tucking it in. "No, thanks." He put on his lab coat and stuffed his tie into his pocket.
"I'll see you tonight, right?" Wilson verified before opening the door.
"Yep, Monster Trucks. Starts at eight."
"I'll bring dinner."
Wilson left the room. He knew he had left House feeling like he had done something wrong. Well he had. How could he be so cold and aloof to having another man touch him? This was House. Why was he so fucking surprised. He could pass easily on the major benchmarks in life if it meant he didn't have to do feelings. Taking Wilson's virginity might involve feelings and emotions and god-forbid, tenderness. That's why he wouldn't do it himself.
Wilson hated himself for wanting to be near him as much as he did, especially since he was so easily tossed to the wolves by House. Hated himself for wanting to occupy him not only for the pleasure he took in spending time with the man he loved, but for wanting to prevent him from finding someone else to go to bed with, for wanting to occupy his time and his mind so that even he wouldn't think of finding other distractions in the form of a warm body.
Saturday afternoon, House sat next to Wilson on the couch watching television amiably like they always did. House turned to Wilson. "You should go out and get laid tonight."
Wilson nearly choked on the soda he'd taken a sip of. "Excuse me?"
"A fine specimen like you … you're sure to get some action. I can tell you which bar to go to."
Wilson hated this. If he said no, he was backing out on their arrangement. If he said yes, he was heading out into the world to let some stranger touch him. Someone he didn't want or love and with full consent of the one man that he did want to touch him.
"You're not going to get any action unless you leave." House explained as though it was nothing.
"Fine." Wilson relented. He stood up, ready to leave. "I need to go home. I'll call you."
"I'll text you the address."
"No, I know where to go." He leaned down and gave House a quick peck on the lips before he left.
"Not really. I heard the nurse's talking."
"The gay nurses?"
"Yes. Tod is gay."
"House. What do you care? You have no idea who nurses are or what they do. They're actually very helpful people."
Wilson rolled his eyes. "I'll call you later."
"Call me when you get there. Where are you going?"
"I'll call you." Wilson shouted as he closed the door behind him. The last thing he needed was for House to actually show up at the bar. He didn't want him near him.
The Meat Hook, as it turned out was a special place known for its leather and bondage clientele. Awesome. Although Wilson did not complete his mission, he did gain new insight into Tod's sex life. That was interesting.
The prominence of the leather-only wardrobe did not clue Wilson in on the particular lifestyle involved right away. It wasn't until he'd attempted to actually urinate in the bathroom when he discovered that the bathroom wasn't really used for bodily functions. When he was pushed up against the wall and asked if he needed a collar by a two-hundred and fifty pound, burly dude wearing ass-less chaps and a cod piece, Wilson politely refused and excused himself quickly.
When he let himself into House's apartment at midnight, he didn't say a word. He simply stripped down and slid in beside his friend. House woke easily when he'd entered the bedroom and took Wilson's silence as his lead not saying a word. When Wilson laid down looking worn and defeated, he simply wrapped him up in his arms, Wilson's back to his chest and they both slept.
They drove into work together on Monday and rode up to their floor in the same elevator.
"You have a busy day today?" House asked knowing full well what his schedule looked like since he'd hacked into it as usual and checked it the night before.
Wilson shrugged. "No, not really. An appointment with a drug rep this morning, a couple of patients this afternoon…you?"
"Berating my team, soap operas start at eleven and a massage after lunch."
The elevator arrived and exiting, Wilson headed for his office without another thought about House's day. He turned to House before he made it to his office door. "You have clinic duty today?"
House, partly down the hallway, turned around to answer. "Not if I can help it." He smirked and then continued his journey where his team awaited, each with their own possible case to take on.
"Get an MRI of his brain and start him on ceftriaxone for the infection." House pulled his right leg up onto his bookshelf, ready to relax as he dismissed his team from his office. As they were leaving, he saw a familiar drug rep making his way down the hall toward Wilson's office. He'd seen him many times before making his way through the various offices. He had attempted once to get to House via Cameron, but that was kyboshed before it started. The guy had a snobbish walk with his head held slightly too high as though he was too good to actually stop and talk with anyone that wasn't a doctor. House only gave him a passing thought that he bugged him—from his $500 hair cut to his pretentious Prada shoes. He peeked across the balcony and saw Wilson sitting in his office doing paper work before he clicked his portable TV on and tuned into his favorite soap.
Wilson looked up and announced "Come in." at the sound of the knock on the door. He was expecting Anton and, as always, Anton was always right on time.
Anton entered flashing his confident smile as always. "James, how are you?" he put out his hand toward Wilson. "Whoa, what happened to the noggin?" He pointed toward Wilson's head with one hand while he shook hands amiably.
"Nothing. Stupid fall. It's no big deal." Wilson explained briefly before Anton began his drug rep shpeal. He listened to a few sentences and nodded appropriately, but Wilson was distracted. He had been all day. House had made it clear. Nothing would happen between them until Wilson had proven that he wasn't going to run away as soon as it had gotten physical. As hard as he tried, he just wasn't able to take his mind off of House, off of the situation he was in. He'd gotten nowhere with his paperwork and had to be redirected twice during the department meeting that morning when he was caught not paying attention.
He looked across his desk at Anton. He was young. Way more confident than he should be at his age, but he thought that was probably an important attribute with his job. He was tall, thin, well-dressed. Way too well-dressed, Wilson thought, to be strictly straight. Wilson came up with a solution to his issue in that moment. Fuck, he was really going to do this. Was he really going to do this? Yes, dammit. This was perfect.
"Anton?" He grabbed the man's attention mid-rant. Wilson licked his lips and leaned in. "I was wondering if you had any more of those condom samples."
"Of course. Plenty." Anton turned to his case and then dropped a handful onto Wilson's desk. "Do you need a demonstration?"
"I think I do. Can you lock the door please?"
Anton locked the door and proceeded to undo his tie as he stalked toward Wilson behind the desk. Wilson stood and backed himself up against the wall. Wilson flinched as the amount of space between them disappeared and Anton took on a completely predatory role. He gulped and breathed heavily gasping as Anton pulled on his belt.
"I even brought lube." Anton smiled wolfishly.
"How … prepared … " Wilson stuttered, nervous as hell and feeling sort of like he'd just stepped into the spider's web.
Anton leaned in to kiss Wilson, but quickly, Wilson brought up a hand to his face to stop him and pushed on Anton's chest. "No kissing on the mouth."
Anton chuckled and pushed Wilson's hand aside. "Shut up. Trust me, you want the kisses." He planted a firm kiss to Wilson's mouth and demanded entrance with his tongue.
Wilson was shocked. He talked himself into just going with the flow, however. It was too late to turn back and he was beyond ready to move forward with his life. If this was what it took to get there, he'd be fine. He felt his pants and boxers hit the floor and he was manhandled into position facing the piece of wall sending a pain through his bruised hip. He gasped and held onto wall, not sure if he should push off and run for it or just grab on and hold tight until it was over. He took a couple of deep breaths and grabbed the wall, waiting for the inevitable. Cool, slick lubricant was felt between his cheeks and he winced as he was breached. He could tell it was just a finger but fuck it hurt. He warred with himself.
But he couldn't do this. "Stop … Anton, stop."
Anton reached around and grabbed Wilson's cock, stroking it. He was muttering what Wilson only assumed was comforting words into his ear, but he couldn't hear a word Anton was saying. His entire brain was only thinking one thing. STOP.
He pushed off the wall, but was pushed forward once again. He felt another finger breech his ass and he hissed in pain, aware of the onslaught of physical reactions going on in his lower half. His cock was hard and being stroked, the fingers in his ass moved carefully, tenderly and …oh fuck … he guessed that was a good wack to his prostate.
"STOP … please, Anton. I can't …"
Anton stopped working his fingers but pushed his body into Wilson's and breathed.
A second or two passed and Wilson shifted, attempting to convey that he would rather Anton move away from him.
"I believe the man said to stop." Wilson shuttered and squeezed his eyes closed as House came into his office via the balcony door. "I suggest you move away." House brandished his cane in warning.
"I think Dr. Wilson and I were having a private moment and you should but out."
"And I think Doctor Wilson has already told you to stop so if you don't remove yourself completely from his vicinity, I will place this cane directly within your vicinity in a manner in which you do not want me to. Understood?"
He stroked Wilson's cock a few times. "James?"
Wilson pushed himself off the wall once again but this time was not met with resistance. "Please leave."
"Fine." Anton removed his fingers making Wilson gasp and squeeze his eyes shut. Anton righted his own clothes, leaving Wilson to fend for himself. He grabbed his case and left hurriedly.
Ashamed, Wilson bent down, picked up his slacks and pulled them into place. He hated that House saw him like that. Anton was stopping on his own but Wilson was sure House thought he was seeing Wilson being assaulted. He didn't like that. "He was going to leave on his own." Wilson hobbled when he felt the pain in his hip.
"Not fast enough for me." House moved toward his friend.
"I'm okay, House." Wilson put his hands up in an effort to keep House at bay.
House kept some distance between them without making Wilson feel like he was bearing down on him. "I know you are." He tapped his cane on the floor as Wilson finished fastening his belt. "I know you're not going to like this, but can you please go into your bathroom and make sure there's no blood."
"Or I could look and make sure myself."
Wilson put up his hands in surrender and limped into his bathroom. He washed the area thoroughly and then took a moment to splash some water on his face. He was pissed, he was frustrated. Finally he walked back out into his office where he knew House was waiting. "I'm fine. No blood."
House eyed him skeptically. "Would you tell me if there was?"
Wilson shrugged. "No, probably not, but there isn't." He moved toward his desk. "Stop looking at me as though I've just been … victimized or something. I wasn't. I asked him to do that."
"I asked him because … because he was a way to get to you. And I think it's bullshit that I should have to sleep with a sleeze ball like that in order to get to the real point—having a relationship with you!" Wilson's voice rose as he spoke, becoming more and more frustrated the more he thought about it. "Look … House … I get it. I understand your point of view, but I'm never … putting myself in that situation again."
"If that means we never … fuck … then I guess we never will but I can't do this with someone I don't know… with someone I don't love."
"I know." House moved toward him. He wrapped his arms around him. "I don't want you to."
Wilson sighed giving in to the affection even though he knew House was only hugging him to be condescending. "I don't know what that means."
"It means you're mine to deflower." He smiled into Wilson's hair
"You're such an ass."
House nodded. "Just another one of my charming qualities." He rubbed his thumb in circles on Wilson's back. "You wanna come over tonight?"
Wilson raised his head off of House's chest but did not step away from the embrace. "No way. Not tonight."
House looked at him questioningly.
"You're in the middle of a case."
"You say that as though it explains everything."
Wilson sighed exasperated, pulling away from the embrace and letting his hands speak just as fast as his voice. "House, you know you just as well as I do. We'll be …progressing and then I'll say something like … hey, maybe they should stop making condoms out of latex … and then you'll get this crazy look on your face and run back to the hospital as though you weren't just trying to get into my pants and low and behold, what d'ya know, it was a latex allergy this whole time. Yes, thank God, another life saved because you are constantly looking for the answer to your puzzle."
"Why would you say something like that? Latex is clearly the superior …"
"House!" He put his hands on his hips and gave him a sardonic look. "Not even close to the point. I don't want to be entangled with your puzzle. We'll … uh … we'll get together when you're done with the case."
House nodded. "Cool. Now I have time to court you. What's your favorite flower?"
"Court me? Do people say that anymore?"
"You prefer 'being wooed'?"
"No, definitely not. Besides, we've been 'courting' each other for the past sixteen years."
House nodded. "Guess I better get back to work. I have a bigger incentive to solve this one."
"You sure you're okay?" House looked genuinely concerned.
Wilson nodded. "I'm fine. I'm embarrassed, but I'm fine."
"Yep." Wilson watched as House made his way to the door. "Thanks, House."
He nodded as he left Wilson's office to return to his team.
The first thing he did was rule out latex allergy.
Despite the incentive, House had not figured out the puzzle. He had gone home and alone and spent the evening obsessing over the list of symptoms, done some research and tried to sleep, hoping the answer would come to him after some rest. When he woke up with just as many answers as he had the night before, he sighed and went in to work early. House's latest patient had kidney failure and would die without a transplant. Unfortunately, his daughter had the same disease her father did and couldn't donate a kidney until they figured out what the hell was happening. If they didn't figure it out soon, not only could the dad die of the kidney failure, but the daughter was in the same boat and paddling fast.
House walked into Wilson's office and slumped down on the couch. "I need a genetic disease."
"I'm sure you're carrying a few."
"Symptoms are kidney failure, bleeding and insomnia." House continued as though Wilson had said nothing.
Wilson was spouting off about Cuddy and her new baby she was adopting. House was barely paying attention. "There was no real pregnancy, so there's no strand of dopamine receptors, so there's no post-partum depression. Cuddy will be the happiest new mother you've ever seen."
House had that look of epiphany on his face that Wilson had seen numerous times before.
"I've just given you the answer haven't I? And now you're going to walk out of here without saying a word."
House got up off the couch. "Nope, actually I was going to tell you to be at my place tonight at seven." He walked out of the open office door and shouted over his shoulder. "And bring some lube!"
Wilson went to his own apartment after work to shower and clean himself. He debated shaving but decided that might be weird and just trimmed the hair in his nether region. He meticulously shaved his face and groomed himself to within an inch of his life. He made it to House's apartment promptly at 7pm. Should he knock? Should he use his key? Should he get back in his car and go back home? He swallowed, took a deep breath and knocked on the door before he talked himself out of it. When House immediately opened the door, he knew House was using the peep hole to witness Wilson's minor freak out.
"Thought you were gonna change your mind there for a second." House said as he stepped aside to allow entry.
"No, just wasn't sure if I should knock or use my key … just feel kinda stupid. Uncharted territory and all that."
House nodded and closed the door when Wilson strolled in casually without a hint of trepidation. "Okay. So you're good to go then?" House eyed him skeptically continuing to assess his best friend's mindset.
"I'm good." Wilson dropped his overnight bag down and shed his coat tossing it over the back of a chair. He started pulling at his tie. "Is now good for you?"
"Wilson, stop." House stepped into Wilson's space. "We are not going to rush back to the bedroom and get it over with." Wilson dropped his gaze to the floor. "You know, if you're nervous, you could just say that. We're going to have to get used to actually sharing …" House gulped mockingly. "… feelings." He said the last word as though it left a bad taste in his mouth.
Wilson contemplated. "You mean share them with full expectation of being mocked or share them without fear of being mocked?"
"Hmmm … good question, although which do you think is more likely the answer?"
Wilson rolled his eyes.
House stepped closer and put a hand on Wilson's waist. "I'm bad at this, Wilson. That's not going to change. Don't assume I know how to not hurt you. I need you to protect yourself, especially from me. The only way to do that is to tell me what's going on … yes, as much as I hate dealing with …feelings, I know you and I know how they run your life …"
"Hey … they don't …" Wilson protested.
"Yes, they do. Guilt, shame, sympathy, empathy, lust, insecurity, jealousy … it's cost you a ton of money and has cost you how many marriages? Emotion rules you. Do not let me push you away and don't you dare push away from me. You and I can't do this half-way. We're already more than that going into this. We've been dating for more than a decade. We're all in straight out of the gate and I won't be able to continue my life without you in it. I already know what that feels like and I know I can't do it."
Wilson thought guiltily back to the time he told House that they were no longer friends. He shook his head in agreement that he could not be without House either.
"I need you to not keep your feelings to yourself. I need you to tell me."
"Regardless of the risk for mockery."
House smiled. "Relationships are about sacrifices."
"Not that you're going to sacrifice your will or ability to mock those around you though?"
"It's such a gift. Why waste it." House sighed and relented. "Okay, how about twenty-five percent of the time I refrain from any verbal repartee that might send you into a spiraling pit of self-loathing after you've shared with me some Hallmark, soul-sucking emotion."
"Oh, big of you. Ninety percent."
"Whoa. That's insane. Forty and three blow jobs a week."
"Eighty-five AND I'll blow you in your office."
Wilson smiled in victory.
"Wait. When? How many times?"
"Nope, you already agreed. No contingencies. I have to do it once and whenever I chose."
"Well, I'm negotiating the contingencies."
Wilson stepped back pointing a finger at his best friend. "You should've thought of that before you let your little brain speak for you."
"I've been ripped off!" House gave Wilson a tight-lipped smile. "You're a greedy negotiator."
Wilson nodded. "Damn right."
"Do you even know how to give a blow job?"
"You should've asked that before too."
House stepped into Wilson's space again, clutching the man's shirt and bringing him in closer for their first kiss of the evening. Finally.
Wilson relaxed into the kiss and asserted himself as well, blending together, allowing the lust to engulf them. Soon kisses turned to pecks on the jawline, neck, behind the ear. Hands sought skin, both going just under their t-shirts, above the jeans waistband. Both circling their thumbs with the newly found warmth. Both rocking their hips gently toward the other in a seemingly well-rehearsed dance.
House broke free first. "I made dinner." He said breathlessly.
Wilson continued to peck and kiss at any flesh available. "Don't care."
House smiled and continued the exploration.
Wilson pulled back. "Wait, my "deflowering" is worthy of your cooking? What did you make?"
"Uh uh … you should've asked before you let your little brain talk for you."
Wilson smiled and continued his ministrations. He felt his shirt being lifted as House's hands made their way up his chest, seeking his nipples. He hissed when he felt them being touched, pinched, licked and finally bitten. He gasped when House bit him there. "Ow … oh, God." Wilson was light-headed with lust. He put his hands into House hair applying a small amount of pressure. "Do that again … please." He gasped. "Oh fuck." He felt House bite him once again, this time on the other nipple.
"Nobody has ever bit your nipple before?" House asked and continued to lick and nip at the area.
"No. God … it feels … oh fuck."
House stood to his full height once again leaving Wilson in a moaning, gasping mess. He kept his arm around his waist because he wasn't sure Wilson could still stand on his own. Inspired by Wilson's responsiveness and his own need to stop putting so much pressure on his bad leg, House needed to get them horizontal asap. He stroked Wilson's cheek and kissed him tenderly on the mouth. When Wilson started becoming more coherent, House asked, "You okay?"
Wilson shook his head out of the spell he was under and righted himself looking ashamed at how wanton he had sounded and how easily House had brought him to the edge. He gazed at the floor. "Yeah, yeah. I'm good."
"You are very responsive."
Wilson nodded his head. "I guess I am."
"Why are you looking at the floor? Look at me."
Wilson sighed and finally met House's eyes once more.
"Nothing. I'm fine."
"Did I embarrass you? Are you nervous? Bored? What the fuck is going on? You were all hands and kisses a minute ago and now you're cold. I told you, I need for you to talk to me."
Wilson raised his hands in frustration, righting his shirt as he took a step away. "FINE … you make me feel like a Victorian virgin for Christ's sakes. You're all 'oh look at how the virgin acts … haven't you ever blah blah blah?' Can't we just assume that no, I haven't done … whatever … and get on with it? I'm a man, House. I may be a gay virgin, but I've fucking fucked before so if you're going to take my ass, then fucking take it already."
"I wasn't mocking you."
"Well it feels like it." Wilson let his voice trail off, thinking maybe he had overreacted.
House shrugged. "Okay."
"Okay? I don't know what that means." There was no bitterness in Wilson's voice.
"It means I understand." House took a step back. "You hungry?"
Wilson furrowed his brow. "NO … dammit, I'm not hungry." He sighed and pushed himself into House's space, pulling the man toward him, adding pressure, seeking skin. He grabbed the hem of House's t-shirt and pulled it up, House raising his arms obligingly as Wilson pulled up. Wilson discarded the shirt and looked at the new found skin, seeing again for the first time. He was beautiful. Soft skin, sparse hair covering his pecs and a trail of hair leading into his jeans. He ran the back of his fingers of one hand down the line, dipping barely into the waistband. House shivered. Wilson looked up into House's eyes. Lust, pleading, maybe a little uncertainty exposed in the expression on his lover's face. His lover. "Mine" Wilson thought he'd only said that in his head, but the feral grin House displayed made him think he actually said it out loud.
"Bedroom." House demanded as he limped down the hall without his cane.
"Right behind you." Wilson made his way down the hall after House pulling his own shirt off and dropping it on the floor on the way.
House pulled a zero turn and was on Wilson as soon as they made it to the bedroom. He yanked on Wilson's belt with one hand and put his other hand around his waist exploring the expanse of skin. Their lips met once more, seeking contact. House maneuvered Wilson to the edge of the bed and pushed Wilson's pants and boxers passed the man's hips, letting them fall to the floor.
"Sit." House ordered. He made quick work of getting the garments untangled and out of the equation completely. Wilson sat on the bed, naked.
Wilson balked a bit at the sight of the lust in House's eyes. House looked like he was caught in a trance. Wilson reached for him, repaying the favor of taking off his pants by undoing the belt directly before him. He ran his hands around House's hips, held a buttock in each hand and squeezed. He continued to kneed at the flesh, finally pushing the garments down past House's knees. When House was completely exposed before him, he took House's cock in his hands, feeling the weight of it, the smooth skin, the width, the length. It was not hard yet which surprised Wilson since his own dick was hard enough to cut glass.
"The vicodin, not you. It just takes a bit sometimes."
Wilson nodded and stroked House's cock feeling it harden and lengthen in his hand. Wilson actually gulped at the size. He'd never seen House's hard cock before, it was pretty impressive. He could feel the wetness gathered at House's tip and moved closer to it. House gasped when he felt Wilson's lips come in contact with his cock.
"You don't have to …"
"I know. I want to taste you." He licked the tip and took a moment to process. "Kind of bitter. Smooth. Thick." He wetted the entire head and then sucked House's dick into his hot mouth.
"Oh fuck … fuck …gawd …Wilson!"
Wilson stroked it with his tongue on every out stroke and went deeper and deeper with every in stroke. He paid special attention to that spot just under the head and teased the opening with his tongue.
House pulled away. "Stop …" He was breathing heavily. "You have to stop or this is over before it starts."
Wilson nodded and scooted back on the bed allowing room for House to join him. House sat down on the edge of the bed to rid himself of his jeans and socks and then lay on his back on the bed next to Wilson. He grabbed a tube and a foil packet from the nightstand and then turned on his side to face Wilson.
Wilson moved in closer, turning on his side to face House. They kissed. Hands explored warm smooth skin. Their cocks lined up, they dry humped until their actions became more urgent. House pushed on Wilson's top shoulder blade attempting to get him to lie on his stomach.
Wilson pushed back. "You want me on my stomach?"
"You have two choices. On your stomach or straddle me."
"I want to see you."
"I have to prep you. This isn't how I'm going to fu … make love to you."
Wilson smiled at House's conciliatory gesture. "Which way do you prefer?"
"On your stomach."
Wilson nodded and moved into position. House stayed horizontal at Wilson's side.
"Face me, Wilson."
Wilson turned his head and made eye contact with his lover. "How are we going to …" Wilson motioned toward House's bad leg indicating he wasn't sure how that was going to work.
"Any way you want."
"Is there one way that is most comfortable?"
"I can do it any way you have in mind. Some I can tolerate for longer than others."
"Which is most uncomfortable?"
"That makes sense."
"Shut up and kiss me."
Wilson smiled into the kiss. He felt House's cock up against his hip. It was the sore hip but it had healed almost completely so he wasn't going to …oh fuck … oh fuck that felt good. House was rubbing a finger up against his entrance. It was mind boggling how many nerve endings were situated in that spot. So tender and so responsive to stimuli. House continued to kiss him through the gasp that Wilson released when House breached him for the first time with a single finger. Wilson rotated his pelvis, grinding into the mattress, House grinding against his hip, House finger fucking his ass and attempting to keep tongues connected. It was so hard to concentrate on so much going on.
"Feel okay?" House broke away to ask.
"Yes." Definitive answer. No question…yes, it was good!
Wilson felt House remove his finger and then enter him again, it felt wider and Wilson couldn't stop the flinch and the gasp of pain. He was panting and pushing against House with his hands. House reacted quickly and wrapped his leg around Wilson's, and the hand that wasn't already occupied in Wilson's ass snaked underneath Wilson's body to hold his hip in place.
"Easy, easy …"
"Just breathe. Take deep breaths and relax."
"Easy for … you to say … holy fuck!"
"Arch your back a little and spread your legs for me. I'll stroke you. It'll make you relax."
"House …" Wilson's breath was hitched. He didn't think relaxation techniques were going to stop it from feeling like someone was trying to shove a pole up his ass. " … I … I don't think …"
"Wilson. Look at me."
Finally Wilson took a deep breath and opened his eyes.
"Do you trust me?"
"Arch your back and raise up a little."
Wilson complied. He felt House's hand stroking his now flaccid penis. He felt like an idiot, his ass in the air, his face buried into the pillow.
"Spread your legs."
Wilson, again, complied. The pressure was slowly starting to feel better. His dick was coming to life once again. Pain turned … whoa … pain turned into a fucking carnival ride!
Wilson turned back to House again. "Oh. My. Fuck!"
"Oh fuck. Oh gawd, keep doing … oh fucking hell … keep doing that."
"Doing what?" He changed his angle and pushed his fingers inside Wilson once more. "This?"
Wilson shouted and just about came unglued as House nailed his prostate. And then he nailed it again … and again. Wilson could not stop the continuous 'oh fuck … oh fuck … oh fuck' spilling from his mouth as his ass was prepared. He let his hips relax back into the mattress, giving House better access to his ass. The slow burn in his belly was getting hotter and hotter. House couldn't fully stroke him but Wilson thought it was better to slow it down anyway.
"I want to come when you're inside me."
House slowed down his ministrations. "Aren't you good for two?"
Wilson raised an eyebrow. "Are you good for two?" He attempted to clench his muscles around the invading fingers and hissed and thrust forward into House's hand. "Gawd!"
House smiled. "No, sadly. The vicodin and I are in a disagreement about that."
Wilson nodded knowingly. "I want to come with you inside me at the same time you do."
"I think you've been watching too much porn. That hardly ever happens."
House nodded. "Ready for another?" he emphasized his point by stroking his prostate again.
"Oh gawd … yes!"
He felt the two fingers removed and the pressure increased exponentially.
Wilson thrust into House's hand and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, relaxing his muscles along the way. Soon he was invaded by three well lubed fingers.
House moved in and kissed Wilson. Wilson smiled and kissed him back relishing in the onslaught of sensation going on around him. Why had they waited so long to do this? Every stroke had Wilson reeling with pleasure. Every few strokes, House went that much deeper and stroked his prostate sending Wilson so much closer to the edge.
He had to reel it in or he would come way too soon. "Slower, please."
House complied. They laid there together, facing each other, kissing distance. House fucked Wilson slowly, tenderly with his fingers. "You okay?"
"I am perfect."
"How are you lubing each finger with only one hand?"
"I have a glob of lube up on your hip, out of the way. I dip my finger in it and then I dip in in you."
"Mmmm … how efficient."
House kissed Wilson again. "I've done this a few times before."
Wilson nodded. "I think I have come to appreciate that fact very …" he pushed back against House's hand. "…very much."
"It feels good?"
"It feels amazing."
"Time for the main event then."
Wilson nodded, half drugged with lust.
"How do you wanna be?"
"I don't know."
"Do you want to be in control of the penetration or do you want me to do it?"
"And you want face-to-face?"
He removed his fingers slowly, wiping his hand on the sheets. "Move over. Lay crossways with your feet dangling off the bed." House instructed as he grabbed the lube and condom and walked around to Wilson's side of the bed. He grabbed a pillow and gave Wilson a light slap to the hip. "Up." House shoved a pillow under Wilson's hips and took hold of each ankle and positioned them on House's shoulders.
"I thought standing up was the most uncomfortable for you."
"It is." House lubed his cock and rolled the condom on.
"So why …"
"Look … don't think I'm mocking you but this is your first-time. I want it to be the way YOU picture it. If you want face-to-face and you want to be able to kiss and you want me in control, then that's what you'll have. People remember their first time. Always. I want it to be … good for you." He stroked himself, keeping himself hard as he spoke to Wilson.
Wilson smiled and nodded deeply touched that House would go to such measures to make this special for Wilson.
"You ready?" He lubed up Wilson's entrance once more and dipped a finger inside to make sure he was still open and slick. "Move toward me a little more." Wilson scooched closer. "Little more. I want your ass hanging off the side of the bed."
"I feel like I'm on a gyne table."
"Oh gawd … we are so going to fuck on one of the gyne tables in the clinic."
"Only if you're the one in the stirrups."
"Fuck." He placed the tip of his dick at Wilson's entrance. "Ready?"
Wilson nodded. "Yes."
House leaned in practically folding Wilson in half as he breached through Wilson's entrance slowly. Wilson flinched and hissed in pain as the fullest part of the head breached past that first ring of muscle. He placed the palm of his hand quickly onto House's chest signaling him to stop.
"I stopped. We're going slow. Breathe deep and relax just like before."
Wilson nodded and soon he was pushing his hips against House, seeking more. Slowly House sunk in to the hilt, leaning in further to kiss Wilson's sweat-soaked forehead.
"Let me know when you're ready for me to move."
Wilson thrust upward. "Now is good."
"You are a star pupil, aren't you?" He pulled out slowly and thrust himself back in eliciting a gasp and moan from Wilson.
"Yesss … oh fuck, yes." He wrapped his right leg around House's waist being careful to keep his left leg exactly where House was guiding it keeping it away from House's bad thigh. Wilson clutched onto House's biceps, rubbing his shoulders, back and relished the feel of the pressure of House on top of him, plowing into him, stroke after glorious stroke. House went deeper and deeper. He pulled at Wilson's nipples with his teeth.
"Stroke yourself." House pulled both of his knees up onto the bed gaining more purchase as he fucked Wilson through the mattress, his tempo gaining power and speed.
"House! Oh Fuck … Oh fucking fuck!" Wilson no longer felt the uneven strokes of someone with a bumb leg fucking him. He felt a powerhouse of a man pistoning in to him, the slap of each thrust when skin met skin, the thick cock moving in and out, back and forth. He felt his legs being pushed back even further and the tempo increasing once more. "Oh … oh … House!"
"Come for me, babe. Come for me." House panted.
Brown eyes locked with blue as Wilson stilled spilling his come over his own hand, sending it flying onto House's chest and abdomen as well as his own thighs and belly. House continued to stroke into Wilson moving back into a standing position to take the strain off of his thigh. He touched Wilson's cock gently waiting for it to come back to life. He leaned in and kissed Wilson's chest, nipping gently, his thrusts not nearly as fast or as hard.
"It's not you, trust me." He continued to stroke languidly. "It's just hard for me to come this way."
"Do you want to switch?" Wilson hitched a breath as House pushed in particularly deep. "Uh … guh …"
"I'm starting to get spent. You mind riding me for a while?"
Wilson noticed how sweaty and flushed House was. It was not lost on Wilson that the effort House made to make his first time special had cost him physically. It must be hell to live in that kind of pain every single day. "No, I don't mind. I can do that." Wilson flinched as House removed himself and climbed up onto the bed lying flat. Wilson straddled House and placed his hands on House's shoulders as House grabbed his own cock and pushed himself up into Wilson. "Oh fuck." He began fucking himself onto House's cock and seated himself rather harshly, crying out in shock at the change in the feel.
"Goes pretty deep this way. Pretty much a guaranteed prostate hit every stroke as long as you get the angle right." House explained.
Wilson experimented with angles. "OH!"
"Found it then?"
"Oh fucking … fuck yes." He stroked himself hitting that particular angle time and time again. Sometimes he rolled his hips on the downstroke letting House's cock push against his prostate continuously.
"Watching you fuck yourself on me … gawd … you are so … amazing. And I love how you curse like a sailor during sex."
Wilson laughed. "I always have. It used to piss Bonnie off … a lot."
"I love it. I love you."
Wilson leaned down and kissed House. "I love you so much."
"I want to fuck you every single day of our lives."
"As long as I get to fuck you too, that sounds great."
House smiled into the Wilson's kiss. "Hey, I think we just said our commitment vows to each other."
Wilson thrust back down onto House's cock and pulled back up only to thrust back down again. He laughed with his ecstasy-addled brain. "Yes, I promise to fuck you every day of your life is exactly the same as love, honor and cherish."
"Well, I promise all that too."
"Would you like to come?"
"I want to come reeeaally badly."
Wilson thrust deeper, harder and began to pick up the pace. "Then come for me." He began to stroke his own cock as he buried himself onto House's.
House grabbed Wilson's hips gaining purchase as he thrust upwards. "Oh, yea, baby … oh gawd … Wilson!"
Wilson pulled on his own cock and spilled over House's chest once more as House stilled and released into the condom inside Wilson. He thrust a few more times into Wilson's clenched ass and finally slumped in post-coital lethargy just as Wilson had on top of House's chest.
Wilson went to pull away but House grabbed his hips and pushed him back down eliciting a groan from Wilson.
"Stay put a couple minutes. It will slip out easier if I'm soft."
Wilson replied by clenching his cheeks together and grinding down.
House slapped his rear. "Holy fuck. Stop that. Tender, sensitive here."
"So … do you think you might want to do that again?" House rubbed Wilson's back softly.
Wilson looked up into House's eyes. "Oh, we will be doing that again. And again and again."
"You liked it?"
"Oh yea." Wilson shimmied his hips and House held onto the condom as he separated himself. Wilson rolled off to the side of the bed, heedless of the many wet spots. "I can't believe you thought I wouldn't like that. It was … so intense. So amazing."
"Told ya." House tied off the condom and tossed it into a nearby trash can.
"Yeah. You were an amazing lover. You have surprisingly strong upper body strength."
"It's all the steroid use."
Wilson smiled and snuggled into House's chest barely able to keep his eyes open any longer.
"We should shower."
"You falling asleep?"
"Mmmm … yeah … sorry. I came twice. I'm surprised I'm still conscious."
"You fall asleep directly after sex?" House nodded his approval. "Man after my own heart." He nudged Wilson. "Hey, Wilson."
"I told you I called dibs on your prostate exam."
Wilson slapped him lightly on the chest. "You're an ass."